Her breath hitched. “You are young, Kabir. You don’t understand. In this family, a widow is furniture. Quiet, useful, and never in the way.”

Society whispered. Relatives cut them off. Her name became a cautionary tale at kitty parties.

“Whore! Ungrateful! You dishonor my son’s memory!” His mother wailed.

“Anywhere. A room. A city. A life where you are not bhabhi but just Aarohi .”

Her lips parted. A tear slid down her cheek. “This is a scandal. They will call me a characterless woman.”

The screams that followed were the kind that shatter china and families.

“Appropriate is another word for buried.”

“And I am a man who has loved you since I was seventeen. Since I saw you laugh at Rohan bhaiya’s bad jokes and fix his crooked tie. I left because I couldn’t watch you belong to him. I came back because I cannot live without watching you live .”