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A man's duty in a family is empty if he provides food but strips away peace, dignity, and safety. Financial stability should never be used as an excuse to tolerate abuse.

The morning sun filtered softly through the sheer curtains of Sunandha's living room, casting long, quiet shadows across the floor. She sat on the sofa, a warm cup of tea resting untouched between her hands. The house was quiet, but her mind was loud, filled with the endless checklists and quiet anxieties that come with being a single mother.

​A gentle knock at the door broke her train of thought. It was her aunt, Sunandha's Mausi, whose familiar presence always brought a sense of grounded comfort into the house.
​After settling down with a fresh cup of tea, Sunandha looked at her aunt, her voice carrying the heavy, deliberate weight of a mother who had been contemplating a major life milestone for months.

​"Mausi, Arohi is reaching marriageable age now," Sunandha began softly, staring into her teacup. "We need to start looking for a good match for her. If you know of any decent families or have any good proposals in mind, please let me know."

​Mausi nodded understandingly, a reassuring smile touching her lips. "Yes, of course, absolutely. I will keep an eye out and ask around our circles."

​But as the words left her mouth, Sunandha's gaze drifted away. She fell into a deep, heavy silence, her brow furrowing as she stared blankly at the floor.

The weight of the world seemed to settle squarely on her shoulders in a matter of seconds. Mausi, sharp and perceptive, caught the sudden flick of worry crossing Sunandha's face. The older woman placed her cup down and reached across the table.

​"You are stressing yourself out, aren't you?" Mausi asked gently, her tone laced with maternal concern. "Are you worried that the shadow of your divorce might somehow affect Arohi's prospects?"

She paused, hesitating slightly before adding, "You know... he did earn quite well. If you had just held on and stayed until Arohi's wedding, things might have been a little easier for you financially."

​Sunandha's head snapped up, her eyes flashing with a quiet but fierce resolve. The pain of the past resurfaced, not as weakness, but as absolute conviction.

​"Providing a livelihood isn't a man's only duty, Mausi," Sunandha said, her voice trembling but firm. "A protector and provider-doesn't just claim after the nuptials that he will feed and clothe you. Marriage is a promise to care for your feelings, to treat you with kindness and respect, to be your shelter, and to safeguard your dignity. He didn't fulfill any single one of those vows."

​She took a shuddering breath, the raw memory of her suffering tightening her throat.

​"And worst of all, he didn't even spare my children. Even today, Arohi wakes up in the middle of the night, trembling with fear from the nightmares of what we went through.

This isn't the life I visualized for my kids. I didn't raise them to watch them live in terror."
​Mausi's expression softened completely, the skepticism vanishing, replaced by deep empathy. She sighed, nodding in profound agreement.

"You are completely right, Sunandha. It is infinitely better to walk out and free yourself than to languish in a hollow, toxic relationship like that. You did the right thing."

​Meanwhile, in the adjacent bedroom, Arohi was sitting at her desk when Yash walked in, leaning casually against the doorframe.
​Arohi looked up from her books, her expression a mix of nervousness and resignation. "Mamma is planning to wed me off."

​Yash's eyes widened in comedic shock, his jaw dropping slightly. "Oh teri! (Oh my god!) Are you fine with it?"

​Arohi shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant despite the gravity of the topic. "Ha, kabhi na kabhi toh shaadi karni hi hai na, toh abhi sahi. (Yeah, I have to get married sooner or later anyway, so why not now?)"

​Yash straightened up, his playful demeanor shifting into something much more serious. He crossed his arms, looking at his sister with protective concern.

"Mere hisaab se, shaadi is a big commitment. Just apne mamma ki khawhish poori karne keliye, ya apna akela pan door hone keliye, ya kisi society ka pressure se nahi karna chahiye. (In my view, marriage is a big commitment. You shouldn't do it just to fulfill Mom's wishes, or to escape your own loneliness, or because of societal pressure.)"

​Arohi let out a sudden laugh, shaking her head at his uncharacteristic wisdom. "Baate toh itni badi-badi kar rahe ho, koi mil gaya kya? (You're talking so big and wise, have you found someone?)"

​Yash chuckled scoffingly, waving his hand in dismissal. "Mere hisaab se, pyar and all these relationships ek time waste hi hai. Mamma ko hi dekho, kitna takleef jheli hai. Aur waise bhi, har insaan ko pyar ya relationship mein hona zaroori nahi hai. Mein apne aap mein khush hoon, toh koi sirdard kyun paalu?

(According to me, love and all these relationships are just a waste of time. Just look at Mom and how much pain she went through. And anyway, it's not necessary for every person to be in love or in a relationship. I'm happy on my own, so why should I invite a headache into my life?)"

​Arohi smirked, leaning forward on her chair. "Toh tumhare liye relationships and love is sirdard? (So for you, relationships and love are a headache?)"

​"Bilkul! (Absolutely!)" Yash replied instantly, cracking a grin. "And ab chhod do yeh sab. Mein Maggi bana raha hoon, khana hai? (And now drop all this. I'm making Maggi, do you want some?)"

​Arohi's eyes lit up. "Vegetable Maggi banado na phir. (Make vegetable Maggi then.)"

​Yash rolled his eyes playfully, turning toward the corridor. "Uske liye toh tuje veggies kaatne padenge. (For that, you'll have to chop the veggies.)"

​Arohi let out a dramatic groan, tossing her pen onto the desk. "Aahh... fine, I will do it."

​Laughing, the sibling duo headed out of the room and crowded into the kitchen, the heavy topics of marriage and commitment temporarily forgotten over the shared chore of chopping vegetables.

​The third year of college had officially commenced, bringing with it a whirlwind of new schedules, heavier assignments, and the highly anticipated college cricket tournament. The campus grounds were buzzing with energy as the match got underway.

​Yash, Shivansh, and Akshat were all part of the playing eleven, giving it their all on the field. Out in the stands, Purvi had practically dragged both Isha and Riya down to the ground to cheer for the boys.

The three girls stood near the boundary, cheering enthusiastically every time a wicket fell or a boundary was smashed.

​During the middle-over strategy break, the players dispersed toward the boundary lines to catch their breath. Sweat-drenched and panting, Yash jogged over to where Riya was standing, noticing she was holding a crate of cold water bottles.

​"Paani milega? (Can I get some water?)" Yash asked, wiping his brow with his forearm.

​Riya playfully held the bottle closer to herself, tilting her head with a teasing smirk. "Nahi. (No.)"

​Yash immediately put on a look of exaggerated betrayal. "Kitni buri baat hai. CR hoke apne praja ko water tak nahi deti! (How terrible. Being the Class Representative, you don't even give water to your students!)"

​Riya rolled her eyes, unable to hide her grin at his theatrics. "Itna drama mat karo. Deti hoon. (Don't do so much drama. Here, I'm giving it.)"
​She handed him the chilled bottle. Yash uncaped it and gulped down the water greedily.

Because the afternoon heat was incredibly humid, the icy water offered instant relief. Seeking a bit more comfort, he poured a generous amount of the remaining cold water directly onto his cupped palm and sprinkled it across his face and hair.

​With a sharp, fluid motion, he moved his head backward, swaying it to shake off the excess droplets. He then ran his fingers through his damp hair, pushing the unruly strands back from his forehead, a few stray water droplets glistening on his skin under the sunlight.

​In that exact split second, the noise of the stadium faded into absolute silence for Riya.

​She froze, her breath catching in her throat as she gazed at him. Her eyes softened, widening slightly as they locked onto the sharp line of his jaw and the effortless, rugged charm of his casual movement.

A sudden, deep warmth bloomed in her chest-an unmistakable wave of romantic realization that painted a subtle flush across her cheeks. For a brief moment, her usual witty defenses completely crumbled, leaving only the pure, unspoken expression of someone realizing they were falling into somethimg.

​Yash blinked away the water, snapping Riya right back to reality. Her heart did a frantic flutter as she quickly tried to stitch her composure back together.

​She cleared her throat quickly, her voice a little breathier than usual. "Yeh kya kar rahe ho? (What are you doing?)"

​Yash, entirely oblivious to the emotional earthquake he had just caused, flashed her a brilliant, dimpled laugh. "Wahi joh tum dekh rahi ho. (Exactly what you are watching.)"

​He gave her a quick wink, gripped his bat tightly, and turned on his heel to jog back onto the sun-drenched cricket ground.

​Riya stood rooted to the spot, her heart hammering against her ribs. She placed a hand over her chest, staring at his retreating back in utter disbelief at her own reaction.
​'Yeh kya tha, Riya? (What was that, Riya?)'

She scolded herself internally, her cheeks burning. 'Tumko woh ek minute nahi bhaata aur abhi aisi hi taad rahi ho? (You can't stand him for a minute and now you're checking him out like this?) This is going to be so odd and awkward...'

​Frustrated with her own racing thoughts, she lightly hit her temple with her palm, trying to literally shake the thoughts out of her head.

​Just then, Isha and Purvi, who had slipped away a few minutes prior to hit the campus canteen, walked back into the stands holding a few snacks.

​Riya looked at the bag in Purvi's hand and immediately seized the opportunity to redirect her chaotic energy. "Yeh kya hai? Orange color ke Lays lana tha na, yeh green wala acha nahi hota. (What is this? You were supposed to bring the orange Lays, this green one isn't good.)"

​Purvi sighed, holding up the green sour cream and onion packet defensively. "Orange wale nahi the yaar, isi se kaam chala lo. (The orange ones weren't available, buddy, just manage with this one.)"

​Riya let out a dramatic, disappointed sigh, crossing her arms as she took one last lingering glance toward the cricket pitch. "Ok, fine."

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