A Century of Us

A/N

I am so happy today because I exercised my right to Vote 👆💜. 

*

Vritka has just landed in Mumbai. She was continuously trying Rohit's phone but it was saying switched off. 

"Itna ajeeb lag raha hai...ek phone nahi kiya aur phone switch off hai. Charging par lagana bhul gaya hoga...bhulakad kahi ka."

Vritika pushed open the door to Rohit's home, her suitcase trailing behind her. She closed the door behind her and set her bag down, kicking off her shoes. Just as she reached for the light switch, she froze. Rohit was sitting on the couch, his elbows on his knees, staring at the floor.

"Rohit?" she said, surprised but delighted to see him. "Tum yaha ho? I was so worried. Phone kyun off hai tumhara? Maine kitne baar call kiya—"

He came over and grasp her arms in a tight grip. "Did you reject the Dream11 project?" he demanded, his voice sharp and accusing. His eyes bore into hers, searching for an answer.

Vritika's mouth parted slightly, taken aback by his sudden aggression. "Rohit, what—"

"Answer me!" he barked, cutting her off. "Did you or did you not tell Ankit to cancel the deal?"

Her heart pounded as she looked at him. "Rohit, listen to me—"

"Just answer the question, Vritika!" His grip tightened, and his tone was laced with betrayal.

She winced but managed to speak, her voice trembling. "Yes, I did. But Rohit—"

He let go of her hand as if it burned him. 

"Why? Do you even understand what you've done?Do you know what this deal meant for me? For my family? We're drowning in debt, Vritika! And you, you just—how could you make such a big decision without talking to me first?"

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. "Rohit meri baat toh suno...."

"Baat sunne ka time khatam ho chuka hai, Vritika!" Rohit shouted

Vritika blinked rapidly, her tears threatening to spill. "Rohit, please... tum samajhne ki koshish karo. Dream11 is not a nice company. Agar kuch galat hota, tum legal troubles mein fas jaate! Main tumhare liye hi toh—"

"Mere liye?" Rohit cut her off, his voice was dripping with sarcasm. "Tumne mere liye nahi, apni so-called moral values ke liye kiya hai! Tumhe mere ghar ki halat pata hai? Mere papa ki tension, meri maa ka din-raat ka rona?"

"Rohit, I didn't know" she tried again, her voice cracking, " Aur bhi kahi brands hai, woh..."

Rohit's grip on her arms tightened. "Tumhe kya lagta hai, paise ped par ugte hain?" he spat. "Aur bhi brands hai? Kahan hai woh brands, Vritika? Kya tumhare paas koi contract hai jo mujhe abhi milne wala hai?"

Vritika flinched. She took a shaky step toward him. "Rohit, please...I did this for you."

"Tumne mere liye nahi apni ego ke liye kiya hai. 48 crore ki deal thi uss brand ki. Kabhi dekhe hai tumne itne paise zindagi main?......Main bhi kisse puch raha hoon? Usse jisne 60 lakh ka ghar ki EMI bharne main ek saal lagaa diya."

His words were like a blade, cutting deeper than anything she had ever felt before.She felt the sting of the insult, the way he had degraded her, reduced her to nothing more than someone struggling with basic financial burdens. 

 It stung and it stung deep.  

She had never imagined that he would bring it up in such a cold, cruel way. Itni mehnat se, raat raat bhar jag kar apne ghar ka EMI bhara tha...She had worked tirelessly to pay that EMI, had poured every ounce of energy into keeping the house that once belonged to her father—a house that was the last of what her mother had of her father. Losing him had been the hardest thing she'd ever faced, but she had to carry on. Every month, the pressure of that EMI weighed on her, but she had never once let it show to Virat or anyone else. And now, hearing him degrade her struggle, it felt like the world had turned against her. His judgment had hit her in a place she never thought he would reach—the place where her vulnerability, her pain, and her pride all lived.