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Third person's pov!

"Open the door, Shrey!" Firm and impatient, Siddhu's voice shouted out from the other side. Shraddha's eyes went wide with fear.

"Dhruv, my goodness! Hide!" She whispered urgently, pushing him toward the wardrobe.

Dhruv, however, didn't move. Rather, he arched an eyebrow while his lips quirked with delight.

"Do you really think I will fit in there?" He echoed in a whisper.

"Dhruv! Now is not the moment to argue! Go hide someplace." Glaring at him, she grumbled.

When Dhruv realized how urgent it was, he finally made a move, running to the side of the bed and slithering underneath it.

After swiftly smoothing her hair and inhaling deeply, Shraddha cracked open the door.

"Yes, Sid?" She attempted to seem nonchalant as she asked, her voice quivering a little.

"Why did it take you so long? Inside, I could hear someone talking." Siddhu questioned, giving her a wary look.

"Oh, I was watching a movie.. You want something, Sid?" With her heart thumping in her chest, Shraddha answered.

"Are you certain you are alright? You seem anxious." Siddhu narrowed his eyes and leaned against the doorframe.

"Yes, absolutely." A broad smile was plastered on Shraddha's face.

Under the bed, Dhruv silently shook his head, trying not to laugh at her terrible attempt at lying. He was finding the whole ordeal amusing. People get caught in such situations during their teens or early youth. Here he is, nearing thirty and hiding, from his brother in law, under his wife's bed.

"I was also not feeling sleepy, Shrey. Let's watch the movie together?" Siddhu asked and Shraddha's eyes widened in panic.

"I- I was actually going to sleep. The movie just ended, Sid." Shraddha said.

"Oh.." Siddhu said with disappointment.

"How about we watch a movie tomorrow?" Shraddha asked.

"Yes. Just us single people. Let's not invite any married couples to watch the movie with us." Siddhu said, rolling his eyes. Shraddha didn't understand what he meant. But she didn't probe, as she was in a hurry to send him away.

"Sure.." She mumbled.

"Alright then. Goodnight.." He said and kissed on her cheeks before leaving.

Shraddha immediately locked the door and leaned against it, heaving a sigh of relief.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Dhruv slid out from under the bed with a groan, stretching his arms above his head.

"God, I didn't know hiding under a bed could be this uncomfortable." He mumbled, cracking his neck,

Still gasping for air, Shraddha remained at the door. Her eyes narrowed as she turned to glare at him. At her response, Dhruv furrowed his brow.

"Why is all of this secrecy necessary? We might just inform them of our marital status. What is the big deal?" Dusting off his shirt, as though it were the most sensible thing in the world, he asked. Shraddha's scowl became more intense.

"Oh, that's a great concept! Along with that, why don't we explain to them why you married me?" She retorted, her voice brimming with bitterness.

"Shraddha..." Mid-stretch, Dhruv stopped, his face darkening.

"What?" She folded her arms across her chest and snapped. "Don't look at me like that. You know it's not something we can just blurt out to them. 'Hey, guys, by the way, Dhruv and I are married. Oh, and it's because he thought I was having an affair his brother-in-law.!'"

"I married you because I f*cking love you." Dhruv hissed at her and Shraddha's heart skipped a beat.

Shraddha froze, her breath hitching as Dhruv's words hung in the air, heavy and raw. His intense gaze locked onto hers, his jaw tight, and his fists clenched as though he was restraining himself from saying more.

She opened her mouth to respond but found herself utterly speechless.

"I didn't marry you because of some stupid misunderstanding or some misplaced sense of duty. I married you because I loved you then, and I still love you now."

Her heart was pounding in her chest, each beat echoing loudly in her ears. She wanted to believe him—God, how she wanted to—but the wounds of their past felt too fresh, too raw to be ignored.

"You... you don't get to say that," she stammered, stepping back until her shoulders hit the door. "Not after everything. I heard you and Vedant that day, Dhruv."

"You need to understand, Shraddha—what I felt for you wasn't a lie. It wasn't fake. The conversation with Vedant.. You misunderstood the whole thing. There is no proof for my feelings, Shraddha. No evidence to prove that I married you solely because I was in love with you. All I can do is keep my heart at your feet and leave it to you to believe it or not." Dhruv said desperately.

"Love isn't supposed to feel like this, Dhruv. It's not supposed to feel like betrayal and heartbreak. It's supposed to make you feel safe." She shook her head, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.

"You don't feel safe with me?" Dhruv asked, his words breaking with the weight of the emotions he was feeling.

"You hid so much from me Dhruv. You haven't been open with me." Shraddha said and Dhruv ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.

"I know I have failed you, Shraddha. I am sorry. Sorry for causing you so much pain," he said softly, his thumbs brushing away the tears that spilled over. "But I am not giving up on us. Not now, not ever. You are the only person who makes this chaotic life of mine feel worth living. Tell me you don't feel anything for me, and I will leave. Tell me you stopped loving me, I will walk away right now and never look back."

She stared at him, her mind screaming at her to push him away, to hold onto her anger and shield herself from the vulnerability threatening to consume her. But her heart? Her traitorous heart whispered a different story entirely.

"I hate you," she whispered, her voice trembling as fresh tears fell.

"Hate's just love with a sharp edge, Shraddha." Dhruv smiled faintly, a sad but knowing smile.

Before she could respond, he leaned in, his lips brushing hers in the softest, most tentative kiss. It wasn't demanding or forceful. It was an apology, a plea, a promise—all rolled into one.

And to her horror, she didn't push him away. Instead, she found herself clinging to him, her fingers curling into his shirt as her walls crumbled, piece by piece.

"Oh Dhruv..."

A/n

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Love,

SF❤️