The applause hadn’t stopped ringing in his ears.
Even hours later, when Shubman stood in the locker room, half-dressed and still holding the towel loosely in his fist, all he could hear was the team's claps and cheers, echoing louder than they had when he’d hit a century.
"Congratulations, bro!"
"Finally tying the knot, haan? Rhea’s a catch!"
"Love marriage toh arranged ban gaya!"
He hadn’t said a word back.
Not one.
He just smiled—if you could call the stiff stretch of lips a smile—and let it happen. Let them assume. Let Yash walk out without looking back.
Let himself die in that moment.
He didn't even change before storming out of the locker room.
The guest lounge in the training facility wasn’t far, and neither were his parents.
“Shubhu!” his mother called, waving like they were at a wedding function. “You haven’t even hugged us properly!”
But Shubman didn’t stop. Didn’t smile. Didn’t perform.
“Why didn’t anyone tell me?” he said, voice hard and flat. “Why the hell was this announced without even talking to me first?”
His father raised a brow. “We didn’t think you’d mind.”
“You didn’t think I’d—” he stopped, laughing bitterly.
“You didn’t think? You announced my marriage to the world and didn’t even think to ask me?”
His mother flinched slightly but tried to salvage it. “Beta, she’s a nice girl. You two were close already, weren’t you? We just… made it official. There’s no harm.”
“No harm?” Shubman hissed. “Do you even know what you’ve done?”
“Shubhman,” his father said sharply. “You’re a public figure. This is a good move—for your image. It’s what you need.”
“I don’t need a fake wedding for my image,” he snapped, voice rising. “I don’t need you to turn my life into a PR stunt.”
He turned sharply toward Rhea, who had been standing behind them, all sweetness and softness.
“Did you know about this?” he asked, jaw clenched.
Rhea’s smile didn’t waver. “Your parents mentioned it… and I thought you’d be okay with it. You never really said no.”
“I also never said yes.”
Silence.
And then she spoke, like a gunshot wrapped in velvet.
“I’m pregnant.”
Shubman froze.
Everything inside him stopped moving.
His ears rang. His chest tightened. He blinked, slowly, like trying to wake up.
“Excuse me?” he breathed.
She placed a hand gently over her belly, still flat. “I wasn’t going to say anything yet. But… now that the announcement is out, I thought you should know. It’s yours, obviously.”
Obviously.
The word stabbed through him.
He stumbled back half a step, his back hitting the edge of the glass display case behind him.
YOU ARE READING
Not In The Script...
RomanceIt was supposed to be fake. But the jealousy felt a little too real. When a staged romance between Shubman Gill and Yashasvi Jaiswal explodes across headlines, they're forced to play along. But as the lines blur, feelings twist into something neithe...
