Destined To Love You

CH 6

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 Sayra's POV

I stood there in the kitchen, fingers fiddling with the edge of my dupatta, watching my father's face as he put the cup down gently on the counter.

He hadn't raised his voice. Not once.

But the disappointment in his eyes?
That stung way more than any scolding ever could.

"Sayra," Papa said softly, turning to face me fully. "Chilli in the tea?"

I looked down. "It was a mistake..."

He arched a brow, the way he always did when I was lying and he knew it. That quiet papa-look that said I love you, but don't test me.

"Sayra."

I sighed, shoulders slumping a little. "Okay fine. Maybe it wasn't a full-on mistake," I mumbled, "but I didn't think you would drink it, Papa. It was supposed to be just for—"
I stopped myself.

Papa just looked at me. Calm. Silent. But full of understanding.

"I was nervous," I admitted finally. "It felt like everything was moving too fast. I just... wanted to feel in control of something. Even if it was a stupid cup of tea."

Papa let out a breath, running his fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair. "Beta," he said gently, "you don't have to prove anything to anyone. Not with silly pranks or forced smiles."

I blinked up at him. He wasn't angry.

In fact, he stepped closer and cupped my face.

"If you say no, it's a no. And that's it," he said with quiet finality. "Doesn't matter who the boy is, or how nice his family might be. Your opinion... your choice... that's what matters most to me and your mumma. Always."

My heart squeezed.

"You're my daughter before anything else, Sayra. Not someone's bride. You get to decide what feels right to you."

"Papa..." I whispered, suddenly overwhelmed.

He smiled then, that kind soft smile only he gave me. "Don't cry now. I can't handle your tears before breakfast."

That made me laugh, watery and short.

I hugged him tight, burying my face in his shoulder. His arms wrapped around me just like when I was ten years old and scared of lightning.

Some bonds don't age.
They just get stronger.

After a quiet moment, he pulled away and smoothed my hair back with his hand.

"Come soon," he said with a wink. "Before your mumma thinks we've run away together."

I grinned. "Yes, Papa."

And just like that, he walked out—leaving me standing there in the warmth of our kitchen, heart a little steadier, mind a little calmer.

Rithvik's POV

I shut the washroom door behind me quietly.

Not slamming.
Not hurrying.
Just... slow. Careful. Like if I moved too fast, reality might hit harder.

The mirror stared back at me, and for a moment, I couldn't even look myself in the eye.

I splashed cold water on my face.

Once.
Twice.
Three times.

But it did nothing to calm the storm inside my chest.

That voice...
That face...
Those words from just now—Sayra. Sayra Dixit.