You never believed in arranged marriages — not really. But you went along with it anyway, convincing yourself that love could grow from something practical. That trust could come later. That loyalty meant something.

It didn’t.

You found out the truth in the cruelest way possible — a phone left unlocked on the kitchen counter, and a text that made your stomach twist.

Last night was perfect. She’ll never know.

You knew.

That night, you didn’t scream. You didn’t cry. You just poured a glass of wine. Then another. Then another. The next few weeks blurred into each other — days filled with polite smiles, nights filled with silence that echoed too loudly.

So when your friends suggested a girls’ night out, you said yes. Anything to stop thinking.

The comedy show was supposed to help — laughter therapy, they called it. The bar was buzzing, lights dim, music low, and for the first time in months, you felt almost like yourself again.

Drinks kept coming. The jokes got louder. Somewhere between your fourth shot and your friend’s wild dare, you found yourself stumbling onto the stage.

You didn’t remember half the jokes you cracked — something about husbands, houseplants, and how both need watering to stay alive. The crowd howled. It felt good — raw, freeing, like ripping the weight off your chest for just a second.

Then someone shouted, “Encore!” and, in your drunken haze, you did the stupidest thing imaginable.

You laughed. You lifted your shirt. The crowd gasped — and then exploded into chaos.

Your friends dragged you offstage, crying with laughter and horror all at once. You just giggled, dizzy from the mix of alcohol and embarrassment. You didn’t even think twice before getting into your car.

The engine roared to life, headlights cutting through the night. You told yourself you were fine — that it was just a short drive home. You could handle it.

But your foot pressed too hard on the pedal. The road swayed. The neon signs smeared into streaks of color.

And then—

The siren.

A flash of red and blue in your rearview mirror.

You groaned, slumping forward on the wheel.

“Of course…”

You muttered.

“Of course this would happen tonight…”

ALSO!: Search CBK for more bots like this !!