SHUBMAN

The slam of the car door still echoed in my head as I drove away. Samaira had barely looked back, her stiff posture as she walked into her building making it clear that whatever was between us was done. Or at least, that's what she wanted me to believe.

I pulled the car into a side street and killed the engine, resting my head back against the seat. My hands were gripping the steering wheel so hard, my knuckles had turned white. I let out a frustrated breath, trying to unclench my fists. Why did it always come to this? Every time we were together, it felt like walking through a minefield. One wrong step, and everything would blow up in our faces.

Her words still stung—cheater. She didn’t even give me the chance to explain, didn't care to hear my side of the story. She just threw that accusation at me like a knife, expecting it to hit its mark. And it had.

But she didn’t know the whole truth. She didn’t know what really happened that day. And I wasn’t about to leave things like this.

Before I knew it, I found myself turning the car around, heading back to her place. Maybe it was foolish, maybe I was just setting myself up for more disappointment, but I couldn’t leave things unfinished.

As I parked outside her apartment, I sat there for a few minutes, trying to gather my thoughts. What was I even going to say? She made it clear she didn’t want to see me again, that she was done. But something in her eyes, that flicker of hesitation when she told me off, told me she wasn’t as certain as she pretended to be.

I got out of the car and made my way to her door, my heart pounding in my chest. The quiet of the night around me made every sound—my footsteps, the creak of the gate—feel louder, more pronounced. When I reached her door, I hesitated for just a moment before knocking.

It took her a while to answer, and when she finally did, she looked surprised to see me. Her eyes widened slightly, but she quickly masked whatever she was feeling with that same cold expression.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice guarded.

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my frustration in check. “Tujhse baat karni hai.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, clearly not interested in any kind of conversation. “There’s nothing to talk about, Shubman. I thought I made that clear.”

“You didn’t give me a chance to explain.”

“There’s nothing to explain. It’s over, and I don’t want to do this anymore.”

I took a step forward, my voice low but firm. “You think you can just walk away? After that hug?”

She flinched slightly, but she didn’t back down. “Yes, I can. And I will.”

For a moment, we stood there in silence, the tension between us thick and heavy. I could feel the anger simmering beneath the surface, but I wasn’t here to fight. We needed to sort out things.

“Samaira, you don’t even know the full story,” I said, my voice softening. “You don’t know what happened that day. Tu mainu villain samajh rahi hai.”

She shook her head, her jaw clenched. “It doesn’t matter, Shubman. I don’t care anymore.”

I could see the pain in her eyes, the hurt she was trying so hard to hide. And it killed me that I was the reason for it.

“You should care,” I said quietly. “Because you’re wrong about me.”

Her expression didn’t change, but there was a flicker of something—doubt, maybe?—in her eyes. She opened her mouth to say something, but before she could, her phone buzzed on the table inside. She turned away, grabbing it and checking the screen. I watched her shoulders tense.

“What is it?” I asked.

She didn’t answer right away, but when she finally turned back to me, her face was pale, her expression unreadable.

“My parents want me to come home,” she said flatly.

I frowned. “Why? What happened?”

She hesitated, glancing down at her phone again. “Tu jaan ke kya karega?”

I wanted to know what made her so uncomfortable, “Bata na please", I pleaded.

"Shubman, mummy papa ne kisi ladke ke sath mujhe milne ko bulaya hai", she said in one breath, her expression vulnerable.

A sinking feeling settled in my stomach. I knew where this was going.

“You mean… marriage?” I asked, my voice tight.

She didn’t look at me, just nodded. “Yes. They're forcing me to marry someone.”

The word hung in the air between us, and suddenly everything felt even more complicated. Her parents were pushing her into something—something she didn’t want, something neither of us wanted. And as much as we tried to ignore it, our past wasn’t going to let us escape that easily.

“I’m not going through with it,” she said quickly, as if to reassure herself more than me. “I won’t let them force me into this.”

I wanted to believe her, but I knew how these things worked. Family pressure was relentless, and as much as Samaira liked to think she could control everything, this was one battle she might not win. Moreover her family always prioritised the image in the society over personal choices.

“You don’t have to,” I said quietly. “But you know they won’t stop.”

She looked at me, her eyes hardening. “I’ll find a way. I’m not marrying someone I don’t know.”

The irony of her words wasn’t lost on me. We were both stuck in this mess—our unresolved feelings, our families, our history. And now, the looming threat of an unwanted marriage.

I took a step closer, lowering my voice. “Samaira, what if we—”

“No,” she cut me off, shaking her head. “Don’t even suggest it, Shubman.”

She didn’t want to hear it, but we both knew what I was about to say. Her family had already made their expectations clear. If either of us tried to resist, it would only make things worse. And deep down, I knew there was no escaping it.

“Think about it,” I said, trying to keep my tone calm. “If we don’t stop this, they’ll push you into something you don’t want. And maybe it’s not just about us anymore.”

She stared at me, her eyes wide with disbelief. “You’re seriously suggesting that we… that we get married?”

“I’m saying it might be the only way out.”

Her laugh was bitter, sharp. “You really think that’s a solution? Us? After everything?”

I didn’t have an answer for that. All I knew was that our lives were spiraling out of control, and this might be the only way to take back some semblance of it.

"Who's this guy?", I asked out of curiosity.

"Nahi pata. But ye pata hai ki he goes across states and countries for his job and I'll have to accompany him. So simply I'll have to leave my job", she replied blandly.

“You hate me, Shubman,” she said, her voice quieter now. “And I… I can’t forgive you.”

Her words stung, but I didn’t back down. “Maybe. But what choice do you have?”

We stood there, the weight of our past and our futures pressing down on us. There was no easy way out of this, no simple solution. And the worst part was, we both knew it.

Finally, she shook her head, looking defeated. “I won’t marry you.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat, my voice barely above a whisper. “You might not have a choice.”

She didn’t respond, just turned away from me, her shoulders slumping. I could see the exhaustion in her posture, the way she was fighting to keep it together.

"Aur tumhe lagta hai that if I tell my parents that I want to marry you, will they let me? The Shubman Gill jiski wajah se mere papa ko itni humiliation face karni padi?", she rubbed the harsh truth on my face. "And as far as I know, the marriage is already fixed", and saying that, she let out a sarcastic laugh.

"Either someone I hate or someone I don't know. What superb choices!", she sighed.

Yes I'm trying to give regular updates now.
Please share this story with all the Shubman ki deewani-s!

Thank you<3