My name is Aarohi Sharma, and I am 24 years old.
Since childhood, I have lived with my stepmother, a cold and pragmatic woman. For years, she repeated a single lesson to me, over and over: “Daughter, never marry a poor man. You don’t need love; what you need is a quiet and secure life.”
At the time, I thought it was just the advice of a woman who had suffered too much in life. Until the day she forced me to marry a disabled man.
His name was Arnav Malhotra, the only son of one of the richest and most powerful families in Jaipur, although his family had expansive businesses and connections extending into Mexico.
Five years earlier, Arnav had been in a car accident that, they said, left him paralyzed. Since then, he had lived apart from the public eye and rarely appeared at social events.
Rumors circulated that Arnav was cold, rude, and resentful toward women. But because of my father’s debts, my stepmother pressured me into the marriage.
“If you agree to marry Arnav, the bank won’t take this house. Please, Aarohi… do it for your father.” I bit my lip and nodded, feeling a deep wave of humiliation.
The wedding was a lavish affair at an old colonial hacienda in Mexico. I wore a deep red sari embroidered with gold, but my heart was empty. The groom sat in a wheelchair, his face as cold as marble. He didn’t smile or speak.
On our wedding night, I entered the room nervously. He was still sitting in his wheelchair, the candlelight casting shadows across his handsome yet stern face.
“Let me help you lie down,” I said, my voice trembling. He pressed his lips together slightly. “It’s not necessary. I can do it myself.”
I took a step back, but then I saw his body shudder. I rushed toward him instinctively. “Watch out!”
But we both fell to the floor. The thud echoed loudly in the silent room as I landed on top of him, my face burning with embarrassment.
And in that precise moment, I froze, realizing the undeniable truth beneath my hands.
(What incredible secret did Aarohi uncover during the fall? Click “Next Page” to continue reading…)
