Chapter 20: chapter 20

Aarohi had barely slept the previous night. Vihaan’s words echoed in her mind, cutting her deeper with each replay. She had wanted to fix things, but every time she tried, the distance between them seemed to grow wider.

Her parents, unaware of her inner turmoil, had spent the morning discussing wedding plans with renewed energy. They were under the assumption that things between her and Vihaan had smoothed over, and Aarohi didn’t have the heart—or the courage—to tell them otherwise.

But the truth was, the idea of marrying Vihaan terrified her. He was cold, distant, and made her feel small with every sharp remark. Could she really spend her life with someone who seemed to dislike her so much?

By late afternoon, the Malhotras had arrived for another round of discussions. The house was buzzing with activity, but Aarohi felt like she was suffocating. Her mother called her to the living room, and as she approached, she caught sight of Vihaan standing with his parents. His expression was unreadable, but the tension in his posture was unmistakable.

Aarti smiled warmly at her. “Aarohi, come sit. We’ve been discussing the engagement date.”

Aarohi froze. Her heart raced as she realized the conversation had shifted from repairing the damage to solidifying the future. She wasn’t ready for this—not after everything that had happened.

“Aarohi,” her father’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts. “Did you hear what Aarti ji said? They’re suggesting next month for the engagement.”

Aarohi felt all eyes on her, waiting for her response. She opened her mouth, but no words came out. Her gaze flickered to Vihaan, hoping for some kind of signal, but his face remained impassive.

“I...” she began, her voice trembling. “I don’t think I can do this.”

The room fell silent. Everyone stared at her, shocked. Her father’s expression darkened, while her mother looked like she had been slapped.

“What are you saying, Aarohi?” her father demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

Aarohi felt her hands tremble as she tried to explain herself. “I’m not ready,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t think I can marry Vihaan.”

Her words hung in the air like a bombshell. Aarti’s smile faded, and even Dev, who had been quietly observing, looked startled.

Vihaan’s reaction, however, was the most intense. His jaw tightened, and his eyes narrowed as he stared at her. “Is this some kind of joke?” he asked coldly.

Aarohi shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes. “No, it’s not. I just... I don’t think we’re right for each other.”

Her mother stepped forward, grabbing her arm. “Enough, Aarohi! Apologize right now!”

But Aarohi pulled away, her voice rising with desperation. “I can’t! I don’t want to marry him!”

Vihaan’s parents exchanged uneasy glances, and Dev cleared his throat. “Perhaps we should give them some time to talk,” he suggested.

Vihaan, however, wasn’t interested in talking. “No need,” he said sharply, his gaze never leaving Aarohi. “She’s made herself perfectly clear.”

“Vihaan,” Aarti said softly, trying to calm him, but he held up a hand.

“Let her say what she wants, Mom,” he said bitterly. “It’s obvious she doesn’t respect this arrangement—or anyone involved in it.”

Aarohi flinched at his words, but she refused to back down. “This isn’t about respect,” she said, her voice trembling. “It’s about what I feel. And I don’t think either of us wants this.”

For a moment, Vihaan didn’t respond. He simply stared at her, his expression unreadable. Then, without another word, he turned and walked out of the house, leaving everyone in stunned silence.

Aarti and Dev quickly followed, apologizing profusely to Aarohi’s parents as they left. Her father’s face was red with anger, and her mother looked close to tears.

“What have you done, Aarohi?” her father hissed. “Do you have any idea what this will do to our reputation?”

“I’m sorry,” Aarohi said, her voice breaking. “But I can’t marry someone who doesn’t even like me.”

Her mother shook her head, her eyes filled with disappointment. “You don’t know what you’re saying,” she said softly. “Vihaan is a good man. You’ll regret this.”

Aarohi didn’t respond. She felt like her chest was caving in, but she also felt a strange sense of relief. For the first time, she had spoken up for herself, even if it came at a cost.

Later that night, Aarohi sat by her window, staring at the stars. She knew she had created a storm, and the days ahead would be even more difficult. But at least she had been honest.

Meanwhile, miles away, Vihaan sat in his office, a glass of whiskey in his hand. His phone buzzed with a message from his father.

Dev Malhotra: “We need to talk about what happens next. You’ll join us at the Sharmas’ tomorrow.”

Vihaan’s grip tightened around the glass as he read the message. His mind replayed Aarohi’s words, each one stinging more than the last. She had rejected him, humiliated him in front of their families.

But what bothered him the most wasn’t her rejection—it was the way she had looked at him. Like she was afraid of him.

And Vihaan Malhotra hated being feared.

“I’m not letting this end like this,” he muttered to himself, downing the whiskey in one gulp.