Kolkata, a city rich in heritage and culture, stood as a perfect blend of tradition and modernity. Known for its grand festivals, exquisite cuisine, art galleries, and sacred temples, the city had a charm of its own. Yet, amidst its vibrance, she lived—silent, reserved, and lost in her own world.

In the heart of the city stood a beautiful house. Though not grand, it had an understated elegance, exuding warmth and comfort. The garden outside was in full bloom, filled with colorful flowers swaying gently in the evening breeze. Birds chirped as they returned to their nests in the trees surrounding the house, signaling the end of another day.

A car pulled up in front of the house and came to a halt. Moments later, a middle-aged man stepped out, carrying a bag. He walked to the entrance and rang the doorbell.

Bhavesh Arya, a middle-class businessman, owned a jewelry shop in the city. He worked hard to provide for his family, ensuring that nothing ever fell short.

Within seconds, the door swung open, revealing a woman in her forties with a warm smile. Chitra Arya, his wife, greeted him with familiarity and care, taking his bag just as she did every day. Without a word, she placed it on the shelf and followed him as he settled onto the couch in the living room.

"Bhavesh, you look exhausted. Are you okay?" she asked, concern evident in her tone as she handed him a glass of water before sitting beside him.

"I'm fine, don't worry," he reassured her with a tired yet gentle smile.

"You're late today," she noted, glancing at the clock.

"Yes, I had to oversee everything at the shop and assign responsibilities to the staff before we leave for a week. I don't want anything going wrong in my absence," he explained, running a hand over his face.

"You're right," she nodded in understanding.

"Would you like some tea?" she offered.

"No, let it be. It's already dinner time. We'll just eat," he replied, his gaze flickering to the clock once more.

"Alright. You freshen up while I set the table. Dinner is almost ready," she said, standing up.

Bhavesh nodded but hesitated for a moment before asking, "Where is she?" His voice was calm, yet there was a flicker of something deeper—something unspoken.

Chitra held his gaze for a moment before offering a half-smile. "In the kitchen, as always," she replied softly.

His expression hardened slightly. He didn't ask any further questions, nor did he seem inclined to. Without another word, he rose from the couch and made his way toward his room.

Chitra watched him disappear behind the door and sighed, lowering her gaze.

In the kitchen, a young woman stood with her back turned, clad in a simple black full-sleeved salwar suit. Her long hair cascaded down to her waist, neatly tied back to keep it out of the way. An apron covered her outfit as she focused on her task—chopping vegetables while simultaneously keeping an eye on the dish simmering in the pan on the stove. The rich aroma filled the kitchen, tempting anyone nearby.

Just then, a voice broke the silence.

"Shalvi?"

Her hands froze mid-chop. She turned around slowly, revealing her delicate yet reserved face. Her eyes held a certain depth, a quiet sorrow she never voiced.

The girl was none other than Shalvi Arya. Once lively and full of joy, she had transformed into someone quiet, withdrawn—almost a shadow of the person she used to be. An incident had changed her, stripping away the spark she once carried. Now, she barely spoke, never raised her voice, and kept to herself.

"Ji... ji (Y... Yes), Maa?" she asked hesitantly, her voice soft, almost uncertain.

Chitra Arya stood at the doorway, offering her daughter a gentle smile.

"Is everything done, Shalvi? Do you need help with anything?" she asked.

"No, Maa, everything is almost ready. I was just preparing the salad. You should go and sit, I will... j-just arrange the table in five minutes," Shalvi said, her voice faltering slightly as she turned off the stove, signaling that the dish was done.

Chitra stepped forward, reaching for the knife to help her chop the salad. "It's okay, Shalvi. I'll do it, you—"

But before she could take it, Shalvi stopped her, shaking her head.

"No, Maa. I'm done. Just two more minutes. Please go and sit with Baba. I'll handle everything," she insisted politely.

Chitra studied her for a moment before sighing and nodding, knowing well that Shalvi wouldn't let her help. With a soft pat on her shoulder, she left the kitchen.

Shalvi continued chopping, but her mind wasn't truly present. It never was. Lost in her thoughts, she barely registered the knife in her hands. It was no surprise that she often ended up with small cuts or burns while cooking, yet she never cared. The physical pain was nothing compared to the weight she carried in her heart every single day.

A few minutes later, she finished preparing the salad. Methodically, she placed everything on the dining table, arranging it with precision. Then, she filled the water jug and walked out into the dining area, her steps measured and quiet.

Bhavesh was already seated at the table. She moved toward him, filling the glasses with water before taking her usual seat opposite Chitra.

Chitra was about to serve, but Shalvi quickly stepped in. "I'll do it," she said softly.

She never once lifted her gaze. Bhavesh glanced at her briefly before shifting his attention back to Chitra, continuing their conversation as if nothing had changed.

Shalvi served them before taking her own plate—just a small portion of vegetable curry, two rotis, and a few pieces of salad. It was always the same. Barely enough, yet she never asked for more.

As they ate, Bhavesh spoke to Chitra while Shalvi silently listened, her eyes fixed on her plate or the patterned tablecloth.

"We're leaving tomorrow, Chitra. Is everything packed?" Bhavesh asked.

"Yes, I've prepared everything. Don't worry," she assured him.

"They'll be so happy. We're meeting them after so many years," Chitra added, a hint of excitement in her voice.

Bhavesh nodded, a rare smile appearing on his otherwise serious face. "I can't wait, Chitra. I'm finally going to see my sister after so long. Because of past complications, we couldn't meet, but now that everything is sorted, it feels good."

Chitra smiled back, sharing his happiness, while Shalvi remained silent, taking small bites as she listened.

Then Chitra's eyes traveled toward Shalvi, and she finally decided to voice what had been on her mind for the past few days. She hesitated, unsure if Bhavesh would agree, but she had to ask.

"Bhavesh, I was thinking... why don't we take Shalvi along with us?" Chitra asked, hopeful yet uncertain.

Shalvi stilled. Her hand froze mid-air as she was about to take a morsel, but she didn't look up. She already knew her father would refuse. It had been three years since she had stepped out anywhere, except for the nearby park, the market, and the temple. So why would he agree now? And most of all—she didn't want to go.

Even if it was a wedding, she had no interest. She barely even knew the relatives they were talking about. All she knew was that they were her father's sister's family—her buaji and her husband's relatives. Their daughter was getting married, and the family had recently returned to India after living in London for years. It had been ages since they last met, mainly because her grandfather had a major fallout with buaji's husband. That feud had kept both families apart, but now that the issues were resolved and her grandfather was no more, they had decided to reconnect.

And now, with her buaji's family settled in Mumbai, the wedding was set to take place in Jaipur—a grand destination wedding. It all sounded extravagant, but none of it excited Shalvi. She knew better than to raise her hopes.

Bhavesh looked at Shalvi, who remained silent, and after a moment, he spoke.

"Yes, I was going to say the same thing. It will be good for her. Shalvi, get your packing done. If you need anything, finish your shopping by afternoon. Our flight is in the evening, so you'll have some time." His tone was authoritative, leaving no room for discussion.

Shalvi's fingers nervously fidgeted in her lap. She couldn't outright refuse, but she also couldn't bring herself to agree. Mustering all her courage, she tried to voice her reluctance.

"I... I... d-don't want to go, Baba," she whispered, her eyelashes fluttering anxiously.

"Why? Do you have something important to do here?" Bhavesh's tone turned sharp, carrying a hint of irritation.

This was exactly what she had feared. She knew her father's anger well. Chitra glanced at Shalvi, concern flickering in her eyes.

Shalvi shook her head vigorously, still looking down.

"Then what's the problem? It's your cousin's wedding. We are meeting them after so many years, and they will be happy to see us all there together." He exhaled sharply before continuing. "Chitra brought it up today, but I had already decided. You are coming with us."

He paused before adding, "And there's one more thing I wanted to tell you. After Ira's wedding, I'm planning to get you married too."

It felt as though ice-cold water had been poured over her. Marriage? Her marriage? With whom?

She shuddered inwardly, struggling to steady herself as she processed his words.

"Her marriage? Bhavesh, what are you talking about?" Chitra asked, confusion evident in her tone.

Bhavesh looked at her and gave a slow, firm nod.

"Yes, Chitra. Samarth Yashvardhan mentioned that they have found a suitable alliance for Shalvi. The boy is well-settled, from a reputable family, and they believe he would be a good match. I thought we should meet him and his family first before making any final decision," he said, his voice carrying a sense of finality.

Chitra nodded thoughtfully. Though the topic of Shalvi's marriage had come up suddenly, she reasoned that it was inevitable. One day or another, her daughter would have to get married. It wasn't wrong to start looking for alliances.

Shalvi sat frozen, her breath shallow. Marriage? They were talking about her life as if she had no say in it. She didn't want this. Not now. Not when she was still struggling to recover from everything that had happened.

She forced herself to speak, her lips dry and trembling. "B-b-but, Baba... I... I d-don't wan—"

Her words were cut short by Bhavesh's sharp, angry tone.

"Did I ask for your opinion, Shalvi? Did I?"

She flinched as tears welled in her eyes. She knew there was no point in arguing.

Chitra placed a gentle hand on Bhavesh's arm, trying to calm him. "Bhavesh, please... she's just—"

"What, Chitra? Just what? This girl has always done the opposite of what we expected. We gave her all the freedom she wanted, and what did we get in return? She showed us nothing but disgrace. Now, she has lost the right to decide for herself." His voice was firm, cold, and unyielding.

Shalvi shrank in her seat, the weight of his words crushing her.

"I am thinking about her life. She had her chance to make her own choices, to live as she pleased—but she lost it. From now on, she will follow what she is told, without question. Is that clear?"

A tear slid down Shalvi's cheek as she nodded slowly.

"Ji... ji, so... sorry, Baba," she choked out, her voice barely above a whisper.

Chitra's heart ached at the sight of her daughter's silent suffering, but she remained quiet.

"Get your packing done and be ready by six sharp. I don't want any excuses, tantrums, or refusals. And I don't want you causing any drama at the wedding either," Bhavesh ordered.

Shalvi nodded, her hands trembling as she reached for her food. She had lost her appetite long ago, but she forced herself to eat, not wanting to give her father another reason to scold her.

"Shalvi, come with us. You'll feel better at the wedding, and you'll meet so many relatives," Chitra said gently, trying to reassure her.

"Ji, Maa. As you say." Her voice was hollow, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"Do you need anything? We can go shopping in the morning if you want—"

"No, Maa. I have enough," she replied softly.

"Okay. Still, I have done some shopping and bought a few things for you too. I have already packed them, as I knew Bhavesh would say yes to taking you. You can take them from me directly on the function days," Chitra said.

Shalvi nodded, pushing another morsel into her mouth.

"And are you sure you don't need anything? Any dress or accessories you want to wear for the wedding?" Chitra asked calmly, knowing that most girls liked to wear clothes of their choice for wedding functions.

"I... I will wear whatever you choose, Maa," she replied slowly.

Chitra nodded. Bhavesh told them to get the shopping and other preparations done by the afternoon if anything was needed.

A few minutes later, Chitra and Bhavesh finished dinner. Shalvi got up silently and started doing her work. She took all the dishes to wash.

Although Chitra tried to stop her, saying the maid would do it later, Shalvi politely declined.

"It's okay, Maa. Anyway, I don't have much to do. At least I can handle these household chores," she said, trying to mask her emotions. But her puffy eyes and swollen face told a different story as she started washing the utensils.

Chitra nodded.

"Good night, Maa. Baba," she said. But she knew there wouldn't be a response for her. So, she continued her work.

Bhavesh and Chitra looked at her for a moment as she washed the dishes. Then, Bhavesh walked away, followed by Chitra.

A fresh tear fell from Shalvi's eyes, but she wiped it away with the back of her hand, pressing her lips together to suppress her pain.

After completing her work, Shalvi turned off the lights and went to her room, carrying a water bottle. She took her night suit and went to change. After that, she came outside and sat on the bed.

She picked up the photo frame from the table and gently caressed it. It was a picture of her parents with her. They looked so happy.

Four years.

Four years since she had last laughed. Since she had last smiled with her heart.

Four years since her life had been reduced to nothing but silent tears and suppressed pain, slowly eating away at her from the inside, making her feel like she was dying bit by bit.

Once, she had been a lively, confident girl. Her parents had been supportive. But one incident had turned her life upside down. She had never imagined that the dreams she had cherished would never come true—and that she would have to pay a great price just for daring to dream.

Now, she was merely allowed to exist in this house.

Exist. Breathe.

But not live.

Her wishes? Seemed like she had stopped wishing a long time ago.

That was Shalvi Arya's life—nothing more than a hostage in her own home. She wasn't allowed to be free. She could only go to nearby parks or markets, always under a strict time limit. If she failed to return on time, she would have to face her father's anger.

Remembering Bhavesh's words from dinner, she got up from the bed. She pulled out her bag and opened her cupboard. Taking out a few traditional outfits for the wedding and other functions, she packed them neatly. But she knew—nothing could make her look beautiful when her face carried nothing but dullness and sorrow.

And second, she didn't want to face so many people.

Their accusing stares scratched at her soul, reminding her of things she wanted to forget.

But now, she had no choice.

She had to go. She had to pretend. Pretend to be happy. Pretend to enjoy everything—just the way her parents wanted.

Then so be it.

She zipped the bag and placed it to the side.

She wished the couple all the best in her heart, at least.

Lying down on the bed, she hugged the pillow, her father's words from the dinner table replaying in her mind.

Each time they echoed, her heart broke a little more.

"I don't know if I will ever be the most successful businessman someday or not, but I definitely want to be..."

"Want to be?"

"I definitely want to be your husband very soon."

She squeezed her eyes shut, taking a deep breath as a tear slid down her cheek, soaking into the pillow. She didn't open her eyes—just sniffled softly, hiccupping as she cried silently.

Holding the pillow close, she buried her face into it.

Her loose hair spread across the bed as her body trembled with the weight of her grief.