ʜᴇᴀʟɪɴɢ sʜᴀᴅᴏᴡs

9.Invitation

Natasha's POV

Another day passed, and my college's holidays continued, confining me to the confines of my home. The weight of sadness hung heavy over me, knowing that my marriage had been arranged with someone I didn't even know. What added to my sorrow was the fact that I was being married off at the tender age of 18, a fate I had never envisioned for myself. I longed to be an independent woman, capable of standing on my own two feet.

Yet, despite my desires, I felt powerless to change my circumstances. My body still bore the physical wounds of the abuse I had endured, each ache and pain a reminder of the trauma I had suffered. It felt as though my bones were broken, making even the simplest of tasks a challenge. And yet, I knew I had to continue working, lest my father's wrath befall me.

As I went about my chores, dusting off the living room, my gaze fell upon a stack of envelopes resting on the table. Their glossy surfaces caught my eye, drawing me closer as I reached out to pick them up.

My eyes widened in shock as I read the words inscribed on the envelope:

𝑺𝒊𝒅𝒅𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒉 𝑴𝒂𝒍𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒓𝒂 𝑾𝒆𝒅𝒔 𝑵𝒂𝒕𝒂𝒔𝒉𝒂 𝑨𝒈𝒂𝒓𝒘𝒂𝒍

The elegant golden letters, beautifully crafted in bold cursive, seemed to mock me with their stark reminder of the impending marriage I had no say in.

My hand trembled as I held the envelope, the weight of its contents sinking in. Suddenly, a voice broke the silence, causing me to flinch and drop the envelope to the floor.

Turning around, I found my dad standing there, his cold gaze fixed upon me.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded, his tone icy.

"N-nothing... I was just... dusting," I stammered, trying to regain my composure.

He approached and picked up the envelopes before informing me of their purpose.

"These are your wedding invitation cards. Your uncle and I are going to our relatives' house to invite them," he stated, his tone devoid of warmth.

With that, he headed towards the door, issuing one final command before leaving.

"Clean the house, and by the time I come back, I need my meal ready," he ordered, before exiting and driving away, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the weight of impending doom hanging over me.

As my dad drove away, leaving me alone in the suffocating silence of the house, I sank onto the couch, my legs unable to bear the weight of my despair any longer. Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably, each droplet a testament to the overwhelming sense of hopelessness that consumed me.

"I-i... don't want... to," I whispered to myself, my voice barely audible over the sound of my own sobs. The words echoed in the empty room, a desperate plea to the void.

A torrent of questions flooded my mind, each one more agonizing than the last.

"Will he love me? Will the man I'm being forced to marry be as abusive as my father? Must I endure more pain in my in-laws' house as well? Will this suffering be my reality for the rest of my life? Will he even care for me?"

The weight of uncertainty pressed down on me like a suffocating blanket, squeezing the air from my lungs and leaving me gasping for breath. In the midst of my despair, one thought shone through with crystalline clarity: I needed someone who understood my pain, someone who cared.

And in that moment, my thoughts turned to Shreya, my best friend. She had always been there for me, a beacon of light in the darkness. But even as I yearned for her comfort, I couldn't help but wonder: What could she possibly do to ease the anguish that gripped my heart? I felt utterly and completely helpless, lost in a sea of uncertainty and despair.