The Royal Contract

The Breaking Point

The night air was cold, but not as cold as the storm brewing in Meher’s heart. She paced the dimly lit garden of the Rathore mansion, her hands clenched into fists, her chest heaving with unspoken emotions. The sound of her anklets echoed in the silent night, each step filled with frustration, pain, and betrayal.

She had walked out of their bedroom, but where could she go? This was her home now. This was supposed to be the place where she felt safe. But tonight, everything felt foreign. Rajveer’s words, his secrecy, his avoidance—it all gnawed at her, planting doubts she didn’t want to acknowledge.

“Meher.”

The deep, commanding voice sent a shiver down her spine. She turned sharply to find Rajveer standing behind her, his face shadowed in the moonlight. His dark eyes were unreadable, his hands shoved into his pockets as if he was holding himself back.

“Why are you here?” she snapped, her voice laced with bitterness.

“Because you walked away,” he said simply, stepping closer. “And I can’t let that happen.”

She let out a humorless laugh. “Oh, now you care? When I needed answers, you gave me silence. When I begged you to tell me the truth, you ignored me. And now you think you can just show up and fix everything?”

Rajveer’s jaw clenched. “It’s not like that, Meher.”

“Then tell me what it’s like!” she exploded, her voice breaking. “Tell me why you’re keeping secrets! Why you’re pushing me away! Do I mean that little to you?”

He took another step forward, but she held up her hand, stopping him. “No. I don’t want your excuses. I want the truth.”

His breathing was heavy, his fists clenched, his own emotions barely contained. “It’s complicated.”

Meher scoffed. “Complicated? Marriage is complicated, Rajveer! Love is complicated! But you don’t see me hiding things from you, do you?”

Silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating. Meher’s heart pounded, her vision blurred with unshed tears. “I gave you my heart, Rajveer,” she whispered. “I trusted you. But now… I don’t know if I can.”

Rajveer flinched, as if she had physically struck him. His face darkened with something dangerous—fear. “Don’t say that,” he murmured, stepping closer, his voice raw. “Don’t you dare say that.”

Meher shook her head. “Then prove me wrong.”

For the first time, Rajveer looked vulnerable. His tough, arrogant façade cracked just a little, revealing something he rarely showed—desperation. He reached out, his fingers grazing her wrist, but she pulled away.

“I can’t keep fighting for us alone, Rajveer,” she whispered. “I need you to fight too.”

The weight of her words hung between them, heavy and undeniable. Rajveer’s eyes flickered with something she couldn’t place—was it regret? Guilt? Or something deeper?

The night stretched on, and though they stood inches apart, they had never felt farther from each other.

And neither of them knew if they could find their way back.