Page 10 of Mrs. Pandey
I couldn't take it anymore. Not another rejection. Not another loss. Not another person walking away from me like I was nothing.
I was not saying I was the nicest person. I wasn't. But I never intentionally hurt anyone. People, on the other hand they hurt me, they used me and took what they wanted and left.
A soft knock interrupted the storm in my head.
"Ira..." my mother called through the door, her voice almost too gentle. "Are you coming downstairs or not? Your father wants to have a few words before he leaves for his business meeting."
"I'm coming," I muttered, gritting my teeth.
I dragged myself to the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face, scrubbing away every trace of pain. Every tear. Every weakness. I applied moisturizer, forcing a smile at my reflection.
"Awful," I muttered to myself, then walked out of the room.
Downstairs, I froze mid-step. There he was, Mr. Amish Patel. That bastard. Sitting comfortably beside my father. His smug voice paused the moment his eyes landed on me.
"My dearest Ira," he said, standing and extending his arms for a hug. I glanced at my father as he gave me a slight nod, gesturing for me to go ahead. I swallowed the nausea and stepped forward.
His arms wrapped around me, and I felt his hand slide up and down my back in a way that made my skin crawl.
"I'm sorry for what happened to you," he said, pulling away just enough to leer at me. "But don't worry, I'm sure you'll end up with the most handsome prince in the world. That Rathore boy was a real asshole."
I took a step back and forced a tight smile. My skin prickled under his gaze as his eyes wandered down the length of my body.
"You look just... great. As always," he said with a smirk.
"Thank you, Uncle Amish," I said, voice stiff, and sat next to my mother.
"I actually know a young and single doctor," he added casually, turning back to my father. "He is smart, and wealthy. I can talk to him to see if he'd be interested in marrying our baby Ira."
My jaw clenched. I wanted to snap his old neck and mouth.
If my parents weren't sitting here, I would have punched him. Over and over again. Until he couldn't speak.
I was grateful I had joined the army. Because there, I learned how to survive. How to endure the worst.
I remembered carrying thirty kilos on my back, running five kilometers straight. If I could do that, I could take him down without making a sound.
And someday I will.
This man had assaulted me and turned my parents against me.
And now he wanted to play matchmaker?
"I'm not interested," I snapped at him, not bothering to hide my disdain. My mother squeezed my arm, warning me to behave.
"I won't marry someone I don't know," I added coldly. "And I'm not looking for a doctor. If I ever decide to marry, it'll be an army officer."
"Ira, mind your voice..." my father said through clenched teeth.
"It's okay, Anand," Amish cut in. "She's just going through a rough phase. I get it. Must be hard getting dumped for some random girl. But honestly, I'm relieved. I never liked that Rathore boy anyway."
That was enough.
I grabbed my phone and stood up. "Excuse me. I have an important call to take," I said, flashing a tight-lipped smile.
Outside, I stepped onto the balcony and gripped the railing, trying to calm the fire burning in my chest. Inside, I could hearmy parents talking about how ill-mannered I had become. About the poor decisions I had made in life.
They never wanted me with Aryan. They hated my job in the army because they wanted me to be an engineer or a doctor. Someone easier to mold, to control. I was an army officer who could never easily bend.
