As Sahiba stood beneath the soothing spray of the shower,the steam enveloping her like a comforting embrace, she couldn't help but feel a sense of urgency creeping into her thoughts. The events of the previous night lingered in her mind, a stark reminder of the reality of her situation.
Her gaze drifted down to the marks that marred her skin, souvenirs of Angad's. Each mark told a story of pain and submission, a testament to the power he wielded over her. But as she traced her fingers over the angry welts, a fire ignited within her, a determination to break free from the chains that bound her.
With renewed resolve, Sahiba stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in a towel, her mind racing with plans and possibilities. She knew that if she wanted to escape from Angad's clutches, she would need to be strategic, to bide her time until the perfect opportunity presented itself.
But now, as she stood before the mirror, her reflection staring back at her with steely determination, Sahiba knew that she was capable of more than she had ever imagined. She would no longer be a victim of Angad's cruelty; she would be the architect of her own destiny.
As Sahiba carefully selected her outfit from the wardrobe, her fingers lingering over the rich fabric of the emerald green and gold sharara suit, she felt a sense of empowerment wash over her. Today, she would not dress to appease Angad's desires or to hide from his wrath. Today, she would dress for herself, reclaiming a small piece of her autonomy in a world that sought to diminish her.
With practiced precision, she adorned herself with the delicate gold necklace and matching earrings, each piece a symbol of her newfound resolve. As she caught her reflection in the mirror, Sahiba couldn't help but feel a spark of pride ignite within her. For the first time since her forced marriage to Angad, she felt like herself again—a woman of strength and resilience, capable of facing whatever challenges lay ahead.
Each piece of clothing she adorned herself with was chosen with precision, not just for its aesthetic appeal, but for its potential to win Angad's trust. She knew that to break free from his clutches, she would need to play the part of the obedient wife, to convince him that she was on his side. It was a risky gambit, but Sahiba was willing to take the chance if it meant securing her liberation.
With every delicate gold earring she fastened and every intricate detail of her sharara suit she adjusted, Sahiba felt a sense of purpose wash over her. This wasn't just about outward appearances; it was about seizing control of her own destiny. By doing as Angad liked, she hoped to disarm him, to lull him into a false sense of security while she plotted her escape.
As she caught her reflection in the mirror, Sahiba couldn't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction. If all went according to plan, today would mark the beginning of her journey towards freedom.
As Angad stirred from his slumber, his eyes falling upon Sahiba as she got ready with grace, she met his gaze with a newfound confidence. "Good morning, Angad," she greeted him, her voice steady despite the tumultuous emotions swirling within her.
Angad's eyes softened as he took in Sahiba's transformed appearance, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. "You look beautiful," he murmured, his voice tinged with genuine admiration.
Sahiba offered him a small smile, her heart pounding with nerves as she summoned the courage to speak her truth. "Thank you, Angad," she replied, her words measured and deliberate. "I want you to know that I remember what you told me last night about being your wife and the eldest daughter-in-law of this family. From today onwards, I will take charge and carry out my responsibilities with pride. I want everyone to be proud that I am your wife."
Angad's expression softened further at Sahiba's words, a hint of pride gleaming in his eyes. "I am proud of you, Sahiba," he said, his voice filled with genuine warmth. "But remember, I still have control over everything. You may take charge, but ultimately, it is I who holds the power in this relationship and the house."
Sahiba's heart sank at Angad's reminder of his control, but she refused to let it dampen her spirits. Today marked the beginning of her journey to freedom, and she would not allow anything—or anyone—to stand in her way. With a silent vow to herself, she squared her shoulders and stepped out of the room, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead with courage and determination.
As Sahiba entered the dining area, she was met with the piercing gazes of Jasleen Bua,Pravjot Bua, and her husband Hansraj Pupha, their presence a reminder of the tension that lingered within the walls of Brar Mansion. But today, Sahiba refused to be cowed by their disdainful stares. Today, she would reclaim her voice and assert her worth, no matter the cost.
Jasleen Bua's voice cut through the silence like a sharp blade, her tone dripping with sarcasm as she addressed Sahiba. "Well, well, look who's finally decided to grace us with her presence," she sneered, her eyes narrowing in thinly veiled contempt.
Pravjot Buachimed in with a mocking laugh, her lips curling into a disdainful smirk."I must say, Sahiba, you're looking rather... put-together today,"she remarked, her words laced with sarcasm.
Sahiba felt a surge of anger rise within her at their condescending remarks, but she refused to let it show. Instead, she met their stares with a steely resolve, her voice firm as she addressed them head-on.
"Thank you for your concern," she retorted, her tone dripping with sarcasm."But I assure you, I am quite capable of dressing myself without your input."
Hansraj Pupha's gaze bore into Sahiba with a mixture of disdain and curiosity, his expression unreadable as he observed her carefully. "Indeed," he added, his voice grave. "One wonders what prompted this sudden transformation."
Sahiba felther temper flare at his insinuation, her frustration bubbling to the surface. "What prompted it?" she exclaimed, her voice rising with indignation. "Perhaps the realization that I am now living in my husband's house, unlike some people who are still freeloading off their parents after marriage!"
Jasleen Bua's eyes widened in shock at Sahiba's bold retort, her cheeks flushing with anger. "How dare you speak to us like that?" she snapped, her voice trembling with barely contained rage.
But Sahiba refused to back down, her gaze unwavering as she met Jasleen Bua's glare head-on. "I dare because I refuse to be belittled and demeaned by anyone, least of all you," she declared, her voice ringing with defiance.
Pravjot Bua's laughter rang out like a discordant melody, her eyes sparkling with malicious glee. "Oh, Sahiba, you always did have a flair for the dramatic," she taunted, her voice dripping with scorn.
But Sahiba remained undeterred, her resolve unshaken by their attempts to intimidate her."If standing up for myself is dramatic, then so be it," she declared, her voice steady despite the pounding of her heart. "I will not be silenced, not anymore."
As Sahiba's bold retort echoed through the dining area, Manveer, her mother-in-law, stood frozen in astonishment, her eyes wide with disbelief. For years, she had watched silently as the dynamics of the Brar household played out before her, her own voice drowned out by the cacophony of tradition and expectation. But today, as she witnessed Sahiba's courageous stand, something stirred within her—a flicker of admiration for the young woman who dared to defy the status quo.
Manveer's gaze followed Sahiba as she left the room, her heart swelling with a mixture of pride and awe. In that moment, she saw a reflection of her own unspoken desires, a yearning for freedom and autonomy that had long been suppressed by the weight of expectation.
As Sahiba took her seat beside Angad, a tentative smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she glanced at him, finding unexpected warmth in the curve of his own smile. The subtle exchange did not go unnoticed by the others at the table, their eyes flickering with curiosity and speculation.
As breakfast progressed, Sahiba's resolve strengthened, and she turned to Seerat with a gentle smile. "Seerat Di, it's your first day after your marriage here today, and according to traditions, you should make something sweet," she suggested, her tone warm and encouraging.
Jasleen's sharp voice cut through the air like a knife, her eyes flashing with indignation. "Who are you to order my daughter-in-law around?" she demanded, her tone laced with hostility.
Sahiba remained composed, her gaze steady as she met Jasleen's fiery glare. "I'm not ordering her, Jasleen Bua," she replied calmly. "I'm simply reminding Seerat Di of our traditions. And as the eldest daughter-in-law of the house, I believe it's important for us to uphold these customs."
Angad's voice cut through the tension, his tone firm as he came to Sahiba's defense."Sahiba is right, Bua," he interjected, his eyes meeting Sahiba's with a silent acknowledgment. "We should all respect our traditions."
Jasleen bristled at Angad's words, but beneath her veneer of indignation, there was a begrudging acceptance. With a dismissive wave of her hand, she relented,allowing Sahiba's gentle reminder to stand unchallenged. And as the family resumed their breakfast, a fragile peace settled over the table—a silent acknowledgement of Sahiba's growing influence within the household.
As Sahiba delved into her artwork, she found herself interrupted by Seerat's unexpected presence, causing a momentary pause in her creative flow. Setting aside her brushes, Sahiba turned to greet her sister with a warm smile, though her heart braced itself for the conversation that was sure to follow.
"Seerat Di, it's so good to see you," Sahiba greeted, genuine warmth shining in her eyes despite the tension that lingered between them. "How have you been? I hope married life is treating you well."
Returning Sahiba's smile, Seerat settled into a nearby chair, a hint of uncertainty flickering in her eyes. "It's been...different," she admitted, her voice tinged with nostalgia and apprehension. "But Garry has been wonderful, and I couldn't be happier with my decision."
Sahiba nodded in understanding, though a pang of envy briefly pricked her heart at the mention of Seerat's newfound happiness. "I'm glad to hear that," she replied.
Seerat's smile faltered slightly, a shadow crossing her features as she spoke of Sahiba's marriage. "Sahiba, I want to apologize," she began, her voice laced with sincerity."For running away and causing you to marry Angad. I never meant for any of this to happen."
Sahiba's heart softened at Seerat's heartfelt apology, awave of empathy washing over her. "Seerat Di, there's no need to apologize," she reassured, her voice filled with genuine warmth. "You made the decision that was right for you, and I understand that." Seeing the monster that Angad was she was glad that Seerat ran away as she would never want her sister to go through what she was going through. Deep down she wished that Seerat and Garry were honest from before.
Seerat's eyes sparkled with gratitude as she reached out to squeeze Sahiba's hand. "Thank you for being so understanding, Sahiba," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "You're truly the best sister anyone could ask for."
As Seerat rose to leave, Sahiba couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt at the secrets she held close to her heart.
After dinner as Sahiba sat in her new room, the quiet solitude enveloping her like a comforting embrace, she couldn't shake the sense of determination that had taken root within her. The events of the day had sparked a newfound resolve, igniting a flicker of hope amidst the shadows of her marriage.
Lost in her thoughts, Sahiba's reverie was interrupted by the sound of the bathroom door opening, signaling Angad's arrival. She turned to face him, her heart fluttering with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity, unsure of what his mood might bring.
To her surprise, Angad approached her with an air of unexpected gentleness, a small package clutched in his hand. Sahiba's eyes widened in astonishment as he extended the gift towards her, his expression softened by a rare display of warmth.
"For you," Angad said simply, his voice tinged with a hint of sincerity that caught Sahiba off guard.
She accepted the package tentatively, her fingers trembling slightly as she unwrapped it with cautious anticipation. Inside, nestled within the folds of tissue paper, lay a delicate gold bracelet, its intricate design glimmering in the soft lamplight.
Sahiba's breath caught in her throat as she beheld the gift, her heart swelling with a mixture of disbelief and gratitude. It was a small gesture, yet it spoke volumes—a recognition of her efforts to take control of her own destiny, to assert her independence in a marriage that had long felt like a prison.
"Thank you, Angad," Sahiba murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she admired the bracelet's exquisite craftsmanship. "This... this means a lot."
Angad's lips curved into a faint smile at her genuine appreciation, a rare moment of tenderness softening the hard edges of his demeanor. "You're welcome," he replied, his tone tinged with a hint of warmth. "I've noticed the changes you've started making, and... I wanted to acknowledge that."
As Sahiba navigated through the daily routines of her married life, a facade of contentment adorned her outward demeanor, masking the turmoil that raged within her heart. Each day blurred into the next, a monotonous cycle of obligations and expectations that she fulfilled with unwavering precision.
It had been a month since the truth of Garry and Seerat's elopement had come to light, shattering the fragile semblance of normalcy that Sahiba had desperately clung to.
Angad had ceased his physical violence towards her, a small mercy that did little to assuage the wounds that lingered within her soul. Yet despite the absence of his fists, his demands for intimacy remained unchanged,a constant reminder of her captivity within the confines of their marriage.
As Sahiba sat alone on her room's balcony, the gentle breeze carrying whispers of a world beyond her reach, she couldn't help but feel a pang of loneliness gnawing at her heart. Her gaze drifted to the garden below, where Garry and Seerat sat entwined in each other's embrace, their laughter mingling with the soft melody of the evening breeze.
In the fading light of dusk, Sahiba watched in silence as Garry offered Seerat a spoonful of ice cream, a playful smile dancing upon his lips. "Here, love," he said, his voice tinged with affection."For the sweetest girl in the world."
Seerat's eyes sparkled with joy as she accepted the offering, her laughter echoing through the stillness of the evening. "Thank you, Garry," she replied, her voice soft with emotion. "You always know how to make me smile."
Their love was palpable, a tangible force that enveloped them in its warm embrace. And as Sahiba bore witness to their tender moments of affection, a bittersweet ache settled in the depths of her soul.
In the dimly lit room, Sahiba's heart raced with anticipation as Angad's stern gaze met hers. His words cut through the silence, each one carrying the weight of expectation and scrutiny. "Sahiba, you're late," he stated, his tone laced with an edge of accusation. "We need to know if you're pregnant."
Sahiba's hands trembled slightly as she reached for the pregnancy test, her mind racing with calculated precision. She knew that every move, every word, was a carefully orchestrated step towards gaining Angad's trust. With a steadying breath, she performed the test, her pulse quickening with each passing moment.
As the results flashed on the screen, relief flooded through Sahiba's veins. "Not Pregnant," the words declared, echoing the silent victory she had achieved. She looked up at Angad, her expression a mask of feigned apprehension and gratitude. "It's negative," she whispered, her voice betraying none of the triumph she felt inside. "I'm not pregnant."
Angad's features softened momentarily, a flicker of relief crossing his stern facade before his gaze sharpened once more. "Are you taking the pills again?" he questioned, his tone clipped and authoritative.
Sahiba met his gaze with unwavering composure, her resolve steeling against the rising tide of uncertainty. "No, Angad,I'm not taking the pills again" she replied, her voice steady and unwavering. "I regret taking them before." she lied
A calculated pause hung in the air as Angad processed her response, his eyes searching hers for any hint of deception. Sahiba held his gaze without flinching, her facade of compliance unwavering. "I understand the importance of starting a family," she continued, her words measured and deliberate. "And I'm committed to doing whatever it takes to make that happen."
A glimmer of surprise flickered in Angad's eyes at Sahiba's unexpected declaration, his features softening imperceptibly. "You are?" he questioned, a note of disbelief coloring his tone.
Sahiba nodded, her expression a mask of earnest determination as she played her part to perfection. "Yes, Angad," she affirmed, her voice steady and resolute. "I want nothing more than to be a mother to your child."
A sense of satisfaction washed over Sahiba as she watched Angad's guarded demeanor falter, a subtle victory in her ongoing battle for control. "Then we'll have to try harder," he declared, a hint of anticipation and warmth tingeing his words. "Together, Sahiba, we'll make it happen."
As Angad's gaze lingered on her, Sahiba fought to suppress the swell of triumph in her chest. She had played her role flawlessly, weaving a web of deceit to ensnare him in her carefully crafted illusion. And as she met his gaze with unwavering resolve, Sahiba knew that she was stepping closer to reclaiming the autonomy she so desperately craved.
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