Uncle's face crumpled with guilt. He could not meet my eyes.
"Beta, I—"
"He lied," Avija said flatly. "He lied about being sick. He lied about wanting you to be happy. He lied about everything to convince you to agree to this marriage."
The room was spinning. I reached out blindly and found the back of the sofa, gripping it hard to keep from falling.
"The marriage was always supposed to be temporary," Avija continued, relentless. "That is why it was kept secret. That is why no one announced it. That is why you were not allowed to wear sindoor or mangalsutra at work. Because you were not supposed to be his real wife. You were just a placeholder. A warm body to fulfill a superstition."
"Stop," I whispered. "Please stop."
"Armaan never wanted you. He wanted me. He chose me. You were just convenient. Just there. Just willing to believe whatever lies they told you because you were so desperate for a family."
Each word was a knife, cutting deeper and deeper.
"And now you have ruined everything. He says he loves you. He says he is not going to divorce you. He has ended things with me. Because of you. Because you manipulated him, made him feel sorry for you, trapped him with your helpless orphan act."
"That is not true," I managed to say. "I did not know. I did not know any of this. I thought—"
"You thought what? That a man like Armaan Khanna would fall in love with someone like you? You, with nothing to your name? No family, no status, no wealth? You thought that was real?"
The cruelty in her voice, the venom, it was unbearable.
I looked at Uncle again, desperate for him to deny it. To tell me this was all a misunderstanding. Some terrible joke.
But he just stood there with tears in his eyes, saying nothing.
Which was the same as saying everything.
It was true. All of it was true.
My marriage was a lie. My husband's love was a lie. Everything I had believed about my life for the past two months was a lie.
I pulled my arm free from Avija's grip and stumbled backward.
"Viya, wait," Uncle said, finally finding his voice. "Let me explain. It is not what you think. Things have changed. This is not—"
But I could not listen anymore. Could not stand to be in this room for another second.
I turned and ran. Out of the living room, through the front door, into the street.
I heard Uncle calling my name behind me, but I did not stop. Could not stop.
My mind was a chaotic mess. Fragmented thoughts crashed into each other, making no sense.
Armaan did not love me. He was supposed to marry Avija. I was just temporary. A sacrifice. A shield. Nothing.
The afternoon sun was blinding. The street was busy with traffic. People walked past me on the sidewalk, going about their normal lives, completely unaware that mine had just shattered into a million pieces.
I walked without direction. Without purpose. Just moving because standing still meant thinking, and thinking hurt too much.
Uncle lied. About his health. About wanting me to be happy. He used my love for him, my gratitude, my desperate need to belong somewhere, to manipulate me into this marriage.
And Armaan. My husband. The man I loved with every fiber of my being. The man I had given myself to completely. The man who said he loved me.
Had any of it been real? Or was it all just guilt? Pity for the girl who did not know she was being used?
I could not breathe. The air felt too thick, pressing down on my lungs.
