**Chapter 11: *Cracks in the Glass***
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"Beta, come stay for a few days," her mother had insisted.
Aanya didn't argue this time. She needed air. Her thoughts needed space.
Arjun hadn't stopped her either.
Just a simple, "Okay. Text me when you reach."
No questions. No protest. No possessiveness.
And that worried her more than anything.
***
Her childhood room felt smaller somehow. Her bed too soft. The walls full of memories she didn't want to relive.
But her mother fussed over her like old times—tea, snacks, home-cooked meals. Her father didn't ask about Arjun much. Just gave her a quiet nod when she arrived, then returned to his newspaper.
It was supposed to be peaceful.
Until her aunt and cousin arrived that evening.
"Oh look who it is," her cousin Meenal said with a smile too wide to be genuine. "The girl who snagged the IITian!"
Aanya gave a forced laugh. "It wasn't exactly a fairytale."
Her aunt raised a brow. "That's not what we heard. Apparently, he's obsessed with you. Trails you like a puppy."
Aanya's mother shifted uncomfortably. "He just loves her."
"Love or control?" Meenal said, not even trying to hide the venom. "I heard he doesn't let you go anywhere alone."
"Because we live in a new city—"
"Or because he's afraid you'll run away," Meenal added. "Didn't you even contact a lawyer once?"
Aanya stiffened.
Her aunt clicked her tongue. "Such drama. And poor boy changed so much. His mother told me Arjun hardly visits anymore. All thanks to this marriage."
Aanya's stomach clenched. "They don't even like me. Why would I visit?"
"Oh, don't be so sensitive," her aunt waved off. "You're lucky, Aanya. Women would kill for a man that devoted. You just need to… adjust."
"Adjust to being stalked? To having no freedom?" she snapped before she could stop herself.
Everyone fell silent.
Meenal smirked. "So it *is* true."
Aanya stood up, heartbeat loud in her ears. "I'm going to lie down."
She shut the door to her room and leaned against it, hands shaking.
So this is what they thought of her. Spoiled. Ungrateful. Unworthy of the husband they believed was too good for her.
Even her own mother didn't defend her.
Her phone buzzed.
**Arjun:** *"Let me know if you need anything. I'll come."*
Just that.
No "come back."
No "I miss you."
Just… I'll come.
And for once, she wished he *had* said more.
***
That night, she couldn't sleep. Her thoughts kept circling the same loop—Shruti's words, Meenal's taunts, her mother's silence, and Arjun's quiet presence even in his absence.
She picked up her phone.
Paused.
And then sent it anyway.
> *"I hate that I miss you. But I do."*
The reply came instantly.
> *"Come outside."*
Her heart jumped.
> *"What?"*
> *"I'm parked outside your house."*
***
She tiptoed past the hall, grabbed a shawl, and slipped out the side door.
There he was.
Leaning against his car, arms crossed, eyes shadowed but soft.
"You didn't reply for hours," he said. "So I drove down."
"You're insane," she whispered, stepping closer.
"Maybe," he said. "But if I stayed home one more minute wondering what they were telling you, I would've lost it."
"They think you're too good for me."
He chuckled bitterly. "They're half-right. I *am* too good."
She smacked his shoulder lightly, and for a moment, something warm cracked through the tension.
"I mean," he said, more serious now, "I'm not the right guy for you. I know that. You're fire. Wild. Ambitious. And I'm just this... suffocating man who holds on too tightly."
"You're also the man who drove four hours in the middle of the night just because I said I missed you," she whispered.
He looked down, then up at her again. "I'm scared, Aanya."
She didn't expect that.
"Scared you'll leave. That I'll wake up one morning and your side of the bed will be empty, and that'll be it."
She stared at him, breath catching.
"I used to think love was about trust," he continued. "But with you, I realized—it's also about fear. The good kind. The kind that keeps you awake, trying. Every day."
She took a shaky step closer. "Then stop being scared. I'm here."
"You won't always be."
"Maybe not," she admitted. "But right now? I am."
He reached for her hand.
This time, she laced her fingers with his willingly.
He pulled her into a hug, slow and uncertain, like she might disappear.
She didn't.
She stayed.
And in his arms, she found something strange.
Safety.
***
He didn't take her back home that night.
They didn't even go to a hotel.
They just sat in the car, talking until the sun rose.
She told him about the gossip, the whispers, the hurt.
He told her about the nights he spent standing at their window, wondering what he could change to make her stay.
And somewhere between 3 and 4 AM, she fell asleep on his shoulder.
He didn't move.
He just held her there.
Like a man holding his entire world—and knowing it could slip away in a breath.
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**[End of Chapter 11]**