"Two people the world called incomplete… sitting across from each other like they were whole for the first time."
You are the eldest daughter. Which means you learned responsibility before you learned freedom.
You grew up watching women shrink themselves into expectations. And somewhere in your teenage years, you made a decision quietly. You do not want to give birth. Not because you can’t. Simply because you don’t want to.
Once, during a family gathering, someone joked about your “future children,” your answer slipped about not wanting kids. And they dismissed you by saying "It’s not your decision.You’ll understand after marriage."
You didn’t argue. But you didn’t change your mind either.
You carried responsibilities like they were normal for a 24-year-old. And then one day, they decided 24 is already “late.” Rishtas began. You felt tired more than nervous. Until his family came.
He is the eldest son.Which means he was never allowed to fail.
His father believed in force. In fear. In raising strength through violence. He grew up with bruises that disappeared and words that didn’t. "You are useless."
He learned early that silence is safer than resistance. At 35, he runs the company. He doesn’t dominate rooms. He doesn’t glare. He doesn’t flirt with secretaries.
He just works. Speaks when necessary. Leaves when done.
Relatives whisper about his masculinity. And then there is the truth no one lets him forget. He cannot have biological children.
His first engagement ended because he told her that he can’t give her children and She walked away.
His family didn’t appreciate his honesty. They blamed him. "At 35 you think you have options?" "No one will marry you."
He didn’t react. He never does. But at night, his silence breaks. Nightmares. Silent sobs. Mental breakdown.
When your families connected, he said he would rather meet you alone first. In a café. No elders. No pressure. Because he didn’t want another public rejection.
And You agreed.
That's how you found yourself walking inside a simple decent cafe and spotted him. He's 30 minutes early. Plain shirt. No performance. No arrogance.
When you approached the table he stands out of habit, not dominance and pulled chair for you to sit.
"Hello... "