5

Jaane kya rokta tha mujhe usse mohabbat karne se,

Uski mohabbat se nahi, mujhe uski deewangi se dar lagta tha

Naira's pov

I decided to cook dinner for Yuvaan tonight. I know he'll probably scold me if he finds out I cooked. After all, he hired a maid to handle that, but I told her not to come today. I wanted to make this meal for him myself-to finally talk through everything that's been happening up between us and clear out these misunderstandings. Tonight, I'm going to ask him everything that's been on my mind. I need to know if he's interested in our baby, in our marriage, in us.

As I was thinking all this, my cravings kicked in again. I wanted chocolate-specifically the ones Dev gave me. I searched the whole house, every corner of the kitchen, but they were nowhere to be found. Where did the chocolates go? I'll have to ask Yuvaan to get me some tomorrow.

I spent the evening making all his favorite dishes, carefully preparing everything just right. I even put on that bodycon dress he bought for me, hoping he'd notice. Now, I'm just waiting for him. It's almost eleven, and he still isn't here. He's always late, so this isn't surprising. But still, part of me keeps hoping he'll come home a little earlier, for me... and for our baby.

I let out a soft sigh, placing my hand over my sixth-month baby bump. "You know, bache, your papa is always late. But sometimes... I just wish he'd come home sooner. For us. I wish he'd be a little more involved, show more interest in taking care of us."

I took a deep breath, pushing down my doubts. Tonight, I'll finally ask him everything. I just hope he's ready to answer.

After an hour of waiting, I finally heard his car horn. I jolted awake, realizing I'd slept on the dining table. Yuvaan walked in, looking exhausted, barely looking in my direction as he loosened his tie and headed straight towards his room. I quickly got up and followed him, holding my belly as I hurried after him.

"Did you eat dinner?" I asked softly, catching up to him. He just shook his head no, barely looking at me. I took a deep breath, not to let his coldness discourage me. "I made dinner for you," I told him.

As expected, he frowned and scolded me for cooking, knowing it could be tiring for me. But I brushed off his complaints and gently took his hand, insisting he join me for dinner. With a sigh, he gave in and followed me to the table.

He sat down as I started serving the food, watching him closely as he took his first bite. "How is it?" I asked, my voice filled with hope. "It's good". He mumbled and a smile spread across my face.

Then, I gathered the courage to ask, "Do you like the dress I'm wearing?" It was the dress he'd bought me, one I'd picked out specially to impress him tonight.

He looked up, his eyes lingering on me for a moment. "You look hot in it," he said, giving me a quick peck on the lips. But something about the way he said it felt... off, almost like he was just saying what he thought I wanted to hear.

Once he finished eating, I began cleaning up the table, still feeling a strange. Suddenly, he pinned me hard against the table's edge. A sharp pain shot through my hip, and I winced. Before I could say anything, he leaned in, his voice low and rough. "This dress looks better on the floor than on you," he murmured, his lips brushing mine in a hard, possessive kiss.

I felt a mix of emotions-confusion, and even a hint of fear. This wasn't what I expected tonight to be, but maybe it was his way of showing he cared. Or... was it? My mind was racing, but I silenced the questions for now, hoping I'd find the answers I needed soon.

I tried to focus on cleaning, but he was relentless, his kisses growing more demanding. I managed to pull back just enough to murmur, "Yuvaan... I'm still working."

But he didn't stop. His hand slid up my back, pulling me closer, and I felt his grip tighten as he continued, ignoring my words and any hint of my disinterest. His intensity overwhelmed me, his hold making it hard to catch my breath, and I could feel myself getting trapped.

"Yuvaan," I tried again, more firmly this time, but he caught both of my hands in one of his, pinning them behind me as he kept kissing me. I felt a twinge of panic, barely able to breathe now with how close he held me, my body pressed firmly against his. My heart raced as I thought of our baby. How was this affecting it? I wished I could touch my belly, even just to feel a small reassurance. I wanted to tell my baby that everything was oka.

I felt myself begin to lose control, how could he not see that I wasn't comfortable? Didn't he realize that I needed space, that I didn't want this right now? Each moment that passed only added to my frustration, and I found myself torn, wishing he could understand, could feel the growing discomfort building within me.

A sharp pain surged through my wrist as I whimpered, trying to pull away. "Yuvaan... please, let me go," I pleaded, feeling the strain of his grip and the ache in my body. But he didn't loosen his hold. Instead, he tightened it, as if he didn't hear my voice at all.

With all the strength I could gather, I managed to break free from his grip and stepped back, my heart racing with anger and hurt. Without thinking, I raised my hand and slapped him across the face, hard enough that the impact seemed to echo in the room.

"You..." he muttered, his voice low and dangerous, his eyes filled with anger. I took a shaky step back, my heart pounding. But before I could say anything, before I could apologize or explain, he raised his hand and slapped me across the face, just as hard.

The pain stung, leaving me momentarily stunned and breathless, my hand instinctively moving to touch my burning cheek. I couldn't believe what had just happened. I tried to form words, to ask him why, but no sound would come out. Before I could gather myself, he took another step forward, his expression relentless, his hand raising again.

Panic surged through me, and I turned, stumbling as I tried to escape. I rushed toward the stairs, desperate to put distance between us. But my movements were slowed, the weight of my belly making it hard to move quickly.

Before I could make it up the stairs, I felt his hand grip my hair, his fist tangling roughly, yanking me back. Pain shot through my scalp, and I cried out, my hands instinctively moving to cover my belly. My mind filled with fear for the baby, my breath coming in short, frantic gasps.

"Yuvaan, please... the baby," I managed to say, my voice weak, pleading. But his grip didn't loosen, his anger overpowering any sense of compassion.

I felt helpless, caught between the fear of his wrath and the desperate need to protect my child. All I could do was hope that he would realize the harm he was doing, not just to me, but to the life growing inside me.

He dragged me up the stairs, his hand still tangled painfully in my hair. I struggled, trying with all my strength to free myself from his grip, but it was no use. His smirk only grew as he watched me struggle, as if he was somehow enjoying my helplessness. My heart raced, panic and confusion mixing in my mind.

Why is he acting like this? This isn't the Yuvaan I know-the man who said he loved me, who promised to take care of me and our baby. All those words... were they lies? I tried to remember his kindness, but now, those memories felt like dreams.

"Yuvaan, please!" I begged, my voice breaking. "What are you doing?"

But he just tightened his hold, ignoring my pleas. When we reached the bedroom, he shoved me onto the bed with such force that I fell hard, landing awkwardly on my belly. A sharp pain shot through me, and I instinctively clutched my bump, fear for my baby filling every part of me. I tried to push myself up, but he pressed me back down onto the mattress, pinning me there with a merciless grip.

I could barely breathe, my chest crushed under his weight and my hands and legs moving desperately like a fish out of water. Every breath was a struggle, my lungs gasping for air, but he didn't stop. I looked up at him, hoping for a trace of the man I once trusted, but his cold laughter cut through the room, his eyes glinting with cruel satisfaction as he watched me suffer.

"Why?" I whispered, though the words barely escaped my lips, lost in the suffocating haze of pain and confusion.

"Why? Because you are my fucking wife". Saying this he tore my dress, his actions harsh and, his face twisted into someone I could no longer recognize. "Then let me do what I want to do" he spat, his voice cold and biting, "and it's your duty to satisfy me." His words cut deep, like knives. I'd never heard him speak like this before.

"You think you can just ignore me?" he snapped, his voice filled with anger. His grip tightened as he leaned closer, his gaze cold and unyielding.

"You want my time, you want my attention-but have you ever thought about what I need?" He laughed bitterly. "You sit around here, acting like you're doing me a favor by staying, but you're nothing without me. You're here because I allow it."

He scoffed, looking me up and down. "You're supposed to be my wife, but instead, all you do is create problems. Maybe it's time you remembered that you belong to me-that everything you have is because of me."

He stared at me, his eyes hard and unforgiving. "You think you can just refuse me? That's not how this works."

As he stood over me, anger still radiating from his body, I could feel the weight of his presence, suffocating me.

"Yuvaan, please," I whispered, my voice shaking. "Don't talk like this."

He didn't say anything. Instead, he moved closer, his eyes hard, his hands reaching toward me. I instinctively held my belly, trying to protect the life growing inside me, feeling a knot of dread tighten in my chest. My hands trembled as I begged silently for him to see reason, for the man I once knew to come back.

"Don't touch me," I said, my voice breaking. "Please, not like this."

But his anger didn't seem to fade. It was like a storm consuming him, and I didn't know how to calm it. I could see the struggle in his eyes, like he was torn between two parts of himself, but it didn't change the fact that I was scared-scared for myself, scared for our baby, scared for the future of us.

His harsh words and the tension in his body made the air between us thick with resentment and fear. I couldn't understand how it had come to this, how the man who once promised to love and protect me had become someone I feared.

As I struggled under his grip, my heart raced with fear and confusion. I didn't understand why he was behaving like this. His eyes, once full of warmth and affection, were now cold and distant. He was pushing me further into a corner, and I couldn't find a way to stop him.

Without informing me he entered inside me. "Yuvaan please no.... ah, please stop it." I tried to speak while I barely breathed.

His movements were relentless, and the more I tried to speak, the further he pulled away emotionally. The hurt I felt was not just physical but deep inside me. This wasn't the man I knew, the one I thought loved me.

As I lay there, struggling for air and control, I realized I was no longer pleading for him to listen to me. I was pleading for us-pleading for the love we once shared to return.

He was inside me and doing his work like a raw animal but I, I started to feel numb. I am not feeling my body anymore. Even my hands and hurting and I can't even reach my belly.

It was like he was a giant, and I was just this small, fragile thing beneath him. I tried to plead with him, my voice shaking as I begged him to understand how much he was hurting me. It wasn't just the marks on my body; it was everything he was doing to me inside, too.

But he wouldn't listen. It was like my words didn't even reach him. I could see the indifference in his eyes, and it made me feel invisible, like I didn't matter at all. Each second felt like an eternity as I realized he was completely ignoring my cries for help.

The marks on my skin were constant reminders of the pain he inflicted without a second thought. Each bruise told a story of my silent struggle, of the battle I was fighting within myself. I felt so angry and sad at the same time. How could someone who said they cared about me cause so much hurt? It felt like a betrayal that cut deeper than anything physical.

I felt every thrust deep inside me, a reminder that he saw me as nothing more than an object to fulfill his desires. My body was aching, each movement sending waves of pain coursing through me, but it was the thought of the baby growing inside me that broke me the most.

I screamed, begging him to stop. "Please stop, think about the baby, yuvaan please." But instead of listening, he responded with violence, hitting me as if my pain was just an inconvenience to him. I felt trapped, a prisoner in my own life, yearning for a way out, yet fearing the consequences of speaking up.

■

The next morning, I woke up feeling a sharp, burning pain all over my body. I am still naked and the bed sheets were stained with spots of blood, and it felt like every part of me was aching even my belly had a dull throb. I tried to sit up, but the pain made me wince and I could only manage to whisper.

Just then, I heard footsteps, and when I looked up, I saw Yuvaan standing in the doorway. Tears welled up in my eyes as I watched him approach me, feeling both relief and frustration at my own helplessness. I wanted to get up, to do something, anything, but my body just wouldn’t allow it. He walked over with a calm expression, sat down on the edge of the bed, and gently cupped my face.

With a softness I hadn’t expected, he leaned down, pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead, and murmured, "Why are you doing this to me, sweetheart?"

How can he talk like this, after whatever he done last night?

As Yuvaan’s hands brushed over my bruises, I flinched and tried to pull away, but he held me gently, refusing to let go. “Does it hurt?” he asked, his voice softer than usual. I gave a small nod, and without another word, he leaned down and lifted me into his arms. He carried me to the bathroom, cradling me carefully, and eased me into the tub.

The moment the warm water touched my skin, a sharp sting shot through me, and I gasped, clutching his arm for support. Seeing my reaction, he immediately adjusted the temperature, cooling the water just enough to soothe rather than hurt. He sat down on the edge of the tub, his fingers tracing light circles on my arm, comforting me as best he could. I couldn’t hold back the tears any longer—I buried my face in his chest and let the sobs take over, whispering, “Why are you doing this to me? You said you loved me but why, why are doing to me and our baby?"

He leaned down, kissed my forehead and murmured, “Because I love you like this, I love to see you suffer naira”. His answer both unsettled and confused me. Did he really understand what love was? Or was it only his way of keeping control?

With a shaky breath, I looked up at him and managed to ask, “Did you marry me just for this? Just to be intimate all the time, even without my consent?” His expression flickered, but he didn’t answer. Silence hung heavy between us, and a fresh wave of frustration washed over me. “Do you even care about the baby?” I asked. He didn’t hesitate, but his answer came in the same possessive tone I’d heard before. “I care about you.”

It wasn’t the answer I’d wanted, yet something in his eyes held a strange mixture of affection and control, like he needed me there to be whole.

After he finished gently washing away the traces of blood and bruises, he lifted me out of the tub, cradling me as if I were fragile glass. He brought me back to the bedroom, setting me down on the bed with care. Without a word, he helped me into my clothes, his touch surprisingly gentle as he guided my arms and legs into each piece of fabric.

Once I was dressed, he straightened up, brushing his hands down his shirt as he looked at me. "You're coming with me to office today," he said, as if it was already decided. His words sent a ripple of panic through me.

"I can't," I whispered, shaking my head. "I can barely walk, and my belly... it hurts too much." My words came out pleading, hoping he would understand, give me time to rest, anything but force me to move right now.

But he didn’t listen. Instead, he reached down, gripping my hand with a firmness that left no room for argument. “You’re coming, that's it” he repeated, leaving me with no option but to obey.

After Yuvaan finished getting ready, he returned to me, scooping me in his arms effortlessly and carrying me out to the car. He settled me in the passenger seat beside him, making sure I was comfortable before he moved around to the driver’s side. Without a word, he started the engine and began the drive to his office.

As we drove, my phone buzzed in my lap, and I glanced down to see Dev’s name on the screen. I reached for it, about to answer, but before I could, Yuvaan took the phone from me. He ended the call without hesitation, his jaw tightening slightly. “Dev will meet us at the office,” he said, his tone firm, leaving no room talk.

There was a part of me that wanted to protest, but I knew it would only make things harder. So, I stayed silent, as Yuvaan’s grip on my life seemed to tighten with every mile.

As we reached the office, Yuvaan didn’t waste a second. He got out of the car, came around to my side, and opened my door with that same steely expression. I tried one last time, my voice barely a whisper, “Yuvaan, please… I can’t walk. It hurts too much.”

But he didn’t respond. Instead, he reached down, grabbed the end of my saree, and tied it firmly around his wrist, securing me to him. “You’re staying right by my side today,” he said.

I tried to protest, my voice trembling, “Please, Yuvaan, I can barely even stand—”

He cut me off, tugging me along as he started walking. “You don’t get to decide that today.”

Each step was agony. My legs felt like they could collapse at any moment, but he moved forward, ignoring my stumbling and quiet gasps of pain. “Yuvaan, please, slow down,” I whispered, but he didn’t so much as glance back.

As we entered the lobby, I saw Dev standing there, waiting by reception with my favorite chocolates.

Why every time I look at him and feel something. Why? I mean whenever I look at his eyes, I see something I always wanted to see from yuvaan. He feels like home, my home. Relief and warmth washed over me for a split second, and I tried to slow my pace, hoping to reach out to him.

But Yuvaan tightened his grip, pulling me harder, and I barely managed to gasp, “Dev—”

Dev looked up just in time to see me struggling to keep up with Yuvaan. His face shifted from a smile to a look of shock as he took in the scene the saree tied to Yuvaan’s wrist, my unsteady steps, and the helpless look in my eyes. “What’s going on?” Dev asked.

Yuvaan didn’t even look him. “She’s with me,” he said shortly, dismissively, as though that explained everything.

I tried to reach out, my voice weak, “Dev, wait—”

But Yuvaan pulled me along, refusing to let me stop. Dev’s eyes followed us, filled with confusion and hurt. I could see the questions and worry in his face, but there was nothing I could do, not with Yuvaan dragging me forward as though my pain meant nothing to him.

Yuvaan continued down the hallway, his grip unyielding as he led me toward his office. Each step felt heavier, my legs protesting with every movement, and my voice trembled as I tried once more, “Yuvaan, please… I need to sit. I can’t keep going like this.”

He glanced at me, his eyes narrowing as though my pain was an inconvenience. “You’re coming with me, and that’s final,” he said.

We reached his office, “Sit here,” he commanded while my saree is still tied to his wrist and watch, pointing to a chair beside his desk.

Just then, Dev appeared in the doorway, his expression a mix of confusion and concern. “Yuvaan, can I speak to her for a moment?” he asked, glancing between us.

Yuvaan’s jaw clenched, and he didn’t take his eyes off me. “Anything you need to say to her, you can say with me dev,” he replied coldly.

Dev’s face softened as he looked at me, ignoring Yuvaan’s tension. “Are you okay?” he asked gently.

I opened my mouth to respond, but Yuvaan interrupted. “She’s fine,” he said before I could say a word. He turned to Dev. “And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t interfere in things that don’t concern you.”

Dev’s gaze hardened. “Yuvaan what's wrong with you? Why are you behaving like this since few months. Naira is like my family and her well-being does concern me.”

Yuvaan’s hand tightened on the desk, but he held back his temper. “She’s my wife now, Dev,” he said pointedly, his tone a clear warning.

Feeling the tension between them, I managed to speak up softly, “Dev, it’s okay…”

Dev looked at me, pain and confusion still etched across his face. “If you ever need anything… you know where to find me,” he said quietly, giving me a meaningful look before he turned and walked out of the office.

As the door closed, Yuvaan’s expression shifted, his eyes narrowing as he looked down at me. “Why are you doing this, hmm? Why do you make things so difficult?”

I looked up at him, my voice barely a whisper. “I’m not trying to, Yuvaan. I’m just… tired.”

He reached out, cupping my face and brushing his thumb across my cheek. “You’re my wife, and that’s all that matters,” he said firmly. “Remember that.”

Before I could fully catch my breath, Yuvaan’s pulled me out again. He had a meeting, and instead of letting me rest, he grabbed my hand and pulled me up from the chair.

“You’re coming with me to the meeting” he said, his voice leaving no room for argument.

“But… Yuvaan, please.” I whispered, still feeling the exhaustion and ache in my body.

“Enough.” He tugged at the saree still tied to his wrist, pulling me along like I had no choice.

As we walked into the conference room, every eye in the room turned to us. The glances were questioning, some shocked, a few others hesitant. It didn’t take long for them to notice the saree tied to his wrist and the way he was practically pulling me along. Embarrassment washed over me, but Yuvaan’s grip tightened, his possessive hold making it clear he wouldn’t allow any space between us.

One of the meeting person tried to hide a look of surprise as he glanced our way, but Yuvaan caught him immediately. “Is there a problem?” he asked sharply, his gaze turning cold as he stared the man down.

“N-No, sir,” the man stammered, quickly averting his gaze.

Another team member leaned over, whispering to a colleague, but Yuvaan’s eyes went on them. “If any of you have problem, you can leave the room" he said, his said. Then everyone looked away, focusing on their files and laptops as if their lives depended on it.

He led me to a chair right beside him at the head of the table. I sat in the chair, my heart pounding as I avoided everyone’s gaze, feeling trapped and exposed.

Throughout the meeting, I kept my head down, trying not to meet anyone’s eyes as I felt the quiet murmurs around me. And whenever anyone’s gaze lingered too long, Yuvaan would cut them off with a sharp look, silencing them instantly.

When the meeting finally ended, I saw Dev waiting just outside the conference room. The sight of him brought an overwhelming urge to run to him, to let go of all the hurt I’d been holding in and just cry. I didn’t understand why, but something in me needed the comfort I knew he could give.

I turned to Yuvaan, trying to hide my desperation. “I… I need to use the washroom.”

He looked at me, hesitating as if deciding whether to let me go alone. “I’ll come with you.”

I quickly shook my head, trying to sound casual. “No, it’s fine. I can manage.”

He stared for a moment, then finally nodded, untying the saree from his wrist. “Fine, but be quick.”

I slipped out of the room, my heart pounding. The moment I saw Dev standing there, I couldn’t hold back. I rushed to him, and without a second thought, I threw my arms around him, holding him tight as I buried my face in his chest. The relief of his embrace made me tremble, and I struggled to hold back my tears.

Dev’s voice was soft but concerned. “Naira, what happened?” he asked, his arms wrapping around me protectively.

I wanted to tell him everything, to pour out all the fear, pain, and exhaustion, but the words wouldn’t come. I swallowed hard, shaking my head as I tried to compose myself.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching my face—and that’s when he noticed the bruises. His hand reached out, his fingers gently brushing the bruise under my eye, then the cut on my lip. “What… what is all this?” he asked, his voice tight with concern.

I forced a weak smile, hoping he’d believe the excuse I came up with. “I… I fell down the stairs.”

He frowned, clearly skeptical, but before he could ask more, his gaze fell to my hand. My fingers were swollen, likely fractured from the harsh grip Yuvaan had used on me earlier. Dev’s expression darkened, his fingers brushing over mine lightly. “Your fingers… what happened?”

“Oh, that… I got them stuck in the cupboard,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper, knowing how ridiculous it sounded.

Dev shook his head, exasperated but concerned. “Why are you getting hurt so much, huh? You need to be more careful,” he scolded softly, though his voice was full of worry, not anger.

Then he looked at my belly and asked me can he touch it and I nodded. He placed his hands on my belly and talked with the baby. "Hey champ come out soon, I am gonna give chocolates to you too, I like give them to your mamma."

Then I looked at him asked. "So did you talk to your girlfriend again? Or are you still planning to live with her memories.

That's when he gave me. The look who took my breathe away. I felt like his pupils turned into a heart shape when he looked at me and he didn't even blink.

His eyes softened, searching my face for the truth. “Is Yuvaan… taking good care of you?” he asked, his tone gentle but firm.

I hesitated, my mind racing. What could I say? The truth was too dangerous. I forced a small nod, my voice almost a whisper. “Yuvaan… he’s treating me well.”

Dev’s jaw clenched as he looked at me, unconvinced. “Are you sure? Because if something’s wrong—”

I quickly shook my head, cutting him off. “Really, Dev. He’s… he’s treating me fine.”

He didn’t seem convinced, but he didn’t press me further. His hand lingered on my shoulder, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze as if to let me know he was there, that I didn’t have to face this alone. For a brief moment, I felt safe, even if I couldn’t tell him the truth.

His touch gave me comfort but Yuvaan’s never did. God, why I am thinking like this about dev.

Just then, Yuvaan came out and walked over to us, with a calm smile. He looked at Dev, still holding my hand, and greeted him casually.

Dev didn’t look convinced. His eyes moved to the bruises on my face, and his concern was clear. “She’s been getting hurt a lot lately, Yuvaan. What’s going on?”

Yuvaan just laughed lightly, shrugging. “Oh, she’s just a bit clumsy. Doesn’t pay enough attention while walkinh.”

Dev didn’t seem to believe it, and he looked back at me, noticing the tears welling in my eyes. I wanted to yell and tell Dev how Yuvaan is treating me. I want to tell him that he is not treating the baby well.

Before he could say more, Yuvaan smoothly interrupted, “Anyway, we should get going.”

Without thinking, I held onto Dev’s hand tighter, hoping he could feel my silent plea. Yuvaan noticed and let out a forced chuckle. “What, are you trying to steal my friend?” he teased, then reached over and carefully pulled my hand away from Dev’s.

I looked back at Dev as Yuvaan guided me away, tears brimming in my eyes, hoping he’d understand that I was struggling and needed help. As we walked out, I saw the worry on Dev’s face, and though I couldn’t say anything, I hoped he’d know not to ignore this.

To be continued

Yuvaan ko yaha galiya do, comment section mein

Is naira is falling for Dev or she is just overthinking?