Episode 2
Writer: Hamida
Currently, Midhi is in Diya's bedroom — a room soaked in elegance and modern style.
White curtains flow softly, plush velvet-like carpets hug the floor, and expensive furniture fills every corner.
Midhi is no longer in her school uniform. She's now wearing one of Diya's tops and palazzos.
The oversized top falls awkwardly to her knees.
She sits on the edge of the bed, legs folded up, her arms and head resting against her knees.
On either side of her sit Diya and Afnaan, whispering between themselves while throwing questions at her one after another.
> "What's his name?"
"Is she really in high school?"
"How on earth did she end up married to Pratyay?"
"Do her family know? Or was she kidnapped and married?"
"What was she feeling when it happened?"
No matter how many questions they throw, Midhi remains completely silent.
Her eyes fixed downward, expression vacant.
Her mind spins with tangled thoughts.
Her life didn't just suddenly fall apart — it was always a mess.
But now… her head feels like it's splitting open.
Afnaan leans over to Diya and whispers,
> "Hey… you think maybe she's mute?"
Diya whispers back,
> "Honestly? I was thinking the same thing."
Suddenly the room's door creaks open — Lota, the housemaid, walks in with a food tray and places it gently on the bedside table.
> "Bhabhi, Mejo Amma said to make sure you eat."
Midhi finally lifts her head and looks at Lota.
Her swollen, red face from all the crying melts Lota's heart.
She wishes she could do something to help Midhi, but she's just a maid. Powerless.
What's done is done.
Marriage is a sacred bond — written by the Creator Himself.
Not easily built, nor easily broken.
> "Bhabhi, please don't skip eating… even just a few bites?"
Midhi doesn't respond.
> "Latu, hand me the plate. I'll feed her," Diya says gently.
She mixes the rice with her fingers and brings a bite close to Midhi's mouth.
> "Come on, bhabhi… open up?"
Hearing the word "bhabhi" from girls older than her made Midhi flinch with discomfort.
Still, she couldn't say no to Diya's warmth.
> "See that, Latu?" Diya smirks. "Out of the three of us, Bhabhi only loves me. She ate from my hand, not yours."
Afnaan rolls his eyes.
> "Oh please, Your Highness of Love! She didn't say no because she didn't wanna offend you. My bhabhi doesn't insult people, that's all. If she really loved anyone more—it's obviously me!"
Despite her emotional turmoil, Midhi let out a small, reluctant smile watching them bicker over her.
---
Meanwhile, in the living room, Mrs. Rumana paced nervously.
She needed to talk to Pratyay, urgently. But the boy had vanished.
She tried calling several times. No response.
Back when he showed up with that girl, he'd barely stayed a few minutes. A phone call had come in, and he left immediately — only saying:
> "Mejo Amma, I'm leaving my wife with you for now. Please take care of her. You understand… she's not just any girl. She's my only wife. A teenager, too."
That was hours ago. Still no sign of him.
Just then, the front door creaked open.
There he was.
> "Where the hell have you been?" Rumana demanded.
> "Working. Where's my wife?" he asked flatly.
Rumana was stunned to hear him mention her again — like it was normal.
> "Pratyay… are you seriously treating this like a real marriage?"
> "What do you think?"
> "This isn't a game. This is about two lives."
> "Who's playing games? Anyway, it's late. I'm sure my wife's waiting for me. I should go."
He didn't wait for her response and headed inside.
---
🕐 Time: 1:00 a.m.
Midhi sat curled up at the far corner of the bed, her gaze still lowered.
Pratyay sat beside her, narrowing the distance.
> "Come closer, love. Let me hold you for a bit."
His voice was calm — unnervingly calm. There was a deep longing in it.
Midhi's body trembled at his words. She shrank back even more.
But Pratyay leaned in, gently placing both hands on her shoulders.
> "Why do you always act like I'm about to hurt you?"
She tried to move away. Failed.
His hands slowly traveled from her shoulders to her neck.
His touch—chilling but tender.
Then Midhi spoke.
> "I know boys like you. You just want to fulfill your desire, and then you'll toss me aside like trash. I know what comes next."
Her voice was a mixture of fear, disgust, and defiance.
As soon as the words left her lips, her chest tightened — she instantly regretted them.
Pratyay's jaw clenched. Rage flickered across his face.
His hand moved from her neck to the roots of her hair and held firm.
Midhi winced in pain.
> "So… I'm your desire, huh? Not love? Not obsession?"
He leaned closer.
> "Love can fade. Obsession can be cured.
But desire? Desire never dies.
And you, my dear wife, are my most primal, deepest desire.
One that won't vanish until the day I die.
You may never want me…
But I will never stop wanting you."
---
(⚠️ If there's any mistake, please overlook it with kindness.
And tell me — is the story boring to you? Or should I keep going?)