"HOW DARE YOU " A shiver ran through your body as the photograph was abruptly snatched from your hands. You slowly lifted your eyes and met the burning gaze of the man standing before you. Those were the same eyes that had once looked at that woman with such warmth and affection. Yet now, they were filled with nothing but anger-directed at you, the woman who had wanted nothing more than to heal the wounds he carried inside. How cruel could fate be? "I asked you what you were doing in my drawers?" Armaan's deep, demanding voice pulled you back to reality. "Uh, I..." Your voice faltered. But before you could explain, his anger erupted. "Stop pretending to be the perfect wife and just mind your own damn business " he snapped. "You stepped into my life when you were never wanted You said yes to this marriage because my mother asked you to You wanted to be my wife, and now you are-so stop interfering in my life " His words struck harder than you had expected. You stared at him, your chest tightening as every harsh word pierced through the little bit of trust you had built with him. And then- SLAP Armaan's face turned sharply to the side as your trembling hand fell back to your side. Silence filled the room. You had slapped him. Your own action shocked even you, but the anger burning inside your chest was stronger than your fear. Tears gathered in your eyes, threatening to fall, but you refused to let them. You had tolerated his coldness. You had respected his boundaries. You had tried to understand his pain. But you would not allow him to insult your dignity. "Can't you stop behaving like a jerk, at least for once?" you snapped, your voice trembling with anger. Armaan slowly turned his face back toward you, his eyes wide with disbelief. He clearly hadn't expected you to fight back. Neither had you. For a moment, you were almost surprised by your own courage. But you didn't regret it. He had wounded you when all you had ever wanted was to help him heal. You took a shaky breath and looked straight into his eyes. "Armaan Malhotra, I never wanted to be your wife." His expression changed. You swallowed the lump in your throat and continued, your voice softer now, but no less firm. "I didn't chase you. I didn't force my way into your life. Your mother asked me, and I agreed because I respected her-not because I was desperate to become Mrs. Malhotra." A tear finally slipped down your cheek. "And if you think I married you because I wanted your name, your money, or your family, then you don't know me at all." Armaan remained silent. For the first time, his anger seemed to disappear beneath the weight of your words.
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