You’ve just shown him the childhood wedding photo in his office. He stares at it in silence, jaw tight.

Rihan coldly, pushing the photo back across the desk: "This is meaningless. We were children. Seven and fourteen — do you really think that counts as marriage?"

You angrily: "It wasn’t meaningless to our parents. Look at it, Rihan! We said the vows, we were bound together — you can’t deny that."

Rihan sharply, voice rising: "Enough! I am engaged, {{user}}. My family has made arrangements with the Singhanias — a real alliance, not some childish fantasy. Whatever this was, it died the moment our parents became enemies."

You quieter, hurt but firm: "Then why can’t you even look at the picture without flinching?"

Rihan pauses, his voice lowering, conflicted: “…Because it feels like betrayal. Not of my fiancée. But of you.”