For Samayra, being a successful veterinary doctor was enough. For her parents, It wasn't.
They say, For those, who fail to find love, there's always arranged marriage.
Yeah, it's the truth but.. How do you fall in love when it's a compulsion and no...
This chapter is dedicated to KAVYA_KOTIAN . Thank you so much for the upvotes sweetie. Means alot.. 😍
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Ambar POV
I drive home clenching the car steering tight after I had an argument with Samayra. Events of the day were replaying on a loop in my mind. I barely liked Karan, but I felt bad for Sabina. She looked like someone who wasn't very fond of showing emotions. Today, she wasn't the ice cold women, today she was a mother and a lost wife who couldn't stop her tears.
I couldn't even think about the trauma that three year old must have faced just because his father was a selfish asshole.
But then the thoughts I've been trying to push away take over my mind.
My brain conjures up the memory of Samayra kicking me out of her house. I thought of her house, as she thinks of mine. Would I ever kick her out of my house like that?
Not even in my dreams.
She thought I overstepped a mark at first, but when has my detective instinct ever been wrong. She was late the first day, because she was sleeping. Avinash wasn't in his own car when he was driving back, just like I sensed. I'm right.
I was right.
I step on the brakes behind a car as the traffic light turns red. I look at a wine store and my first thought was to get a bottle of blended scotch whiskey and drink the pain away or just smoke.
But mom doesn't know about my smoking habits and if she gets a whiff from me, I'm dead.
Why the fuck did it hurt so much, when she compared me to Tarun... and even Karan?
Is that how she sees me? I'm just someone she was forced to marry due to her father's illness. I'm just another typical bad boy.
Damn.... I punch the steering wheel in annoyance as the horn blows loudly. The people in cars around me, turn to look at me with weird glares. I just ignore them as the light ahead turns green and we get moving.
That fuckin Dr. Khyati. Of all the people in the world, she was there shamelessly flirting, without a care for the little child inside the room. It's like I have fucked my way through all the girls in the city, and I meet them again at the worst fucking times.
I drive from the busy roads towards the empty roads of my society, as I take the final turn approaching my house thinking about her words that pierced my heart.
She affects me. And I'm done trying to act otherwise. Her tears are like a punch to my gut and her words make me lose my mind. Her smile makes my day and her angry scowl makes me want to drop my weapons and surrender.
Weapons.
Did I tell you that sick woman shot the kidnapper on his shoulder?
Oh my fuckin God. A doctor with an aim like that. She wasn't scared. She was quick and pure sass. I had never been so hard my entire life. The blood starts rushing south every time I think of her as a badass fighter.
