Saaya:- Love & Shadow

From the moment I looked at her, I knew she would be my undoing, but I didn’t know it would be this serious. I would disobey every rule I had for her.

I am Charvik Singh Thakur was never meant to cross paths with her, but destiny—or, you could say, our Dada—had different plans.

When I saw her descending the stairs, she didn’t look like a woman walking among mortals; she looked like a goddess who had wandered into my world by accident.

The soft sway of her waist felt like the movement of a sacred river, and the evening light resting on her seemed like a blessing stolen from the heavens.

The moment I climbed onto her balcony, risking my dignity for her number, I realized something terrifying.

I had fallen in love.

I had become a devotee.

Every temple has its deity. Every prayer has its destination. Every wandering soul seeks something to kneel before.

She became all three.

Perhaps that is why I never feared her rejections, her sweet words, or the walls she built around herself. A devotee does not stop worshipping just because the goddess remains silent. They simply learn to find meaning in the silence.

People asked me what I saw in her.

How could I explain that some people are admired and some are desired, but only once in a lifetime does someone arrive who is worshiped?

She was my unanswered prayer, standing before me in human form.

Somewhere between stolen glances, late-night conversations, and a thousand unspoken confessions, I stopped asking the gods for miracles.

Because every time she smiled at me, I was already witnessing one.

The worst part is that I would rip apart the whole world for just one of her tears.

When I found out who hurt my girl enough to make her afraid of her own shadow, I knew I would do anything to destroy that person.

-∆∆∆-

I am the type of man who is proud of his control over everything. People often call me the master of manipulation because, even if the situation didn’t allow me to bend it in my favor, I could bend people in my favor.

My name is Prarambh Veer Pratap Singh. I was supposed to finish my work in India and never come back, but the girl I thought was just a phase proved me wrong.

From the moment she slapped me, I should have walked away.

I have had guns pointed at my head and knives pressed against my throat. I have faced enemies foolish enough to challenge me to my face.

None of them ever left a mark.

But somehow, the woman who struck me before learning my name became the wound I could never close.

I met her in a club filled with drunk strangers, deafening music, and bad decisions.

She looked exactly like one. A bad decision. I came there for someone else.

For the girl who used to be my best friend. The girl I had promised to protect. Now she belongs to another man.

I wasn’t looking for love.

I wasn’t looking for a future.

I wasn’t looking for her.

But then, that cruel bastard of a fate dragged her into my path and laughed while everything burned.

At first, she was just an obstacle.

Then she became an irritation.

Then, she became an obsession.

I told myself that I only kept looking at her because she fascinated me.

I told myself I only kept coming back because she was useful.

I told myself that marrying her was nothing more than circumstance.

A replacement groom.

A replacement bride.

A replacement story.

But nobody warns you that the replacements sometimes become more important than the original plan.

No one tells you that one day you’ll wake up and realize that her laugh determines your mood.

Her tears will determine your anger.

Whether your house feels like a home or a graveyard depends on her absence.

I spent months convincing myself that she was just temporary.

Then, I found myself memorizing the way she tucked her hair behind her ear.

The way she frowned when she was worried.

The way she held my son against her chest, as if she had carried him beneath her own heart.

That was the moment I knew I was doomed.

Not when I married her.

Not when I kissed her.

Not when I started wanting her.

It was when my six-month-old son stopped crying in her arms.

When he reached for her before he reached for me.

It was when she looked at him with a love that she didn’t owe to either of us.

That was when she stopped being an obsession.

She started becoming family.

My family.

The most dangerous thing about her wasn’t her beauty.

It wasn’t her kindness.

It wasn’t even the way she could silence every demon inside me with a single glance.

The dangerous thing was that she made me want things I had spent my whole life thinking weren’t meant for people like me:

A home.

A wife.

A child.

A future.

People think love makes a man soft.

They are wrong.

Love simply gives him something worth becoming monstrous for.

God help anyone who tries to take my wife away from me.

I wasn’t born a hero. I was made to be a villain.

Villains are not known for letting go of what belongs to them.