A Second Chance

Jeevika had been living a simple and peaceful life once, or so it seemed. Growing up, everything felt normal. Her mother had passed away when she was in her teens, a loss that still weighed heavy on her heart. A year after her mother’s death, her father had remarried his assistant, a practical decision he said was necessary to maintain the family. Jeevika had accepted it without protest, especially since her stepmother had always treated her well. There were no harsh words, no cold behavior. It was as if her stepmother had slipped seamlessly into their lives. Her stepsister, however, had always kept her distance, never speaking much to Jeevika. But that suited Jeevika just fine—she preferred to avoid conflict. Life continued in a predictable rhythm, and she never had any real complaints.

At 23, when her father decided it was time for her to marry, everything changed. Her father, a wealthy businessman, arranged for her to marry Abhiman, the son of his business partner, a powerful billionaire. At first, Jeevika had no objections. It was an arranged marriage, and she trusted her father to make the right decision for her future. But her best friend, Tara, painted a much darker picture. Tara had convinced her that Abhiman was nothing but a ruthless playboy, someone who would never be a good husband. The idea of being trapped in a loveless marriage terrified Jeevika, and Tara fueled her fears with stories of his reckless behavior.

In her panic, Jeevika made a decision that would change everything—she ran away from the wedding. It had seemed like the right thing to do at the time, her only way out. With Tara’s encouragement, Jeevika thought she was saving herself from a terrible fate. She didn’t know then that she was running straight into a trap. Tara, her so-called best friend, had betrayed her.

Five years passed since that fateful day, and those five years were nothing but a nightmare. Jeevika had discovered the truth only recently—Tara had never cared about her well-being. Tara had wanted Abhiman for herself. The day Jeevika fled from the wedding, Tara had stepped in, hoping to take her place. Jeevika had been too blind to see it then, too trusting, too naïve. She had believed Tara was her friend, but she had been wrong. The revelation had left her shattered.

Betrayed, broken, and angry, Jeevika found herself alone. Her father had disowned her after she ran away, her stepmother and stepsister turned cold, and now Tara had revealed her true colors. Her entire life had fallen apart, and she had no one left to turn to.

That day, when Jeevika got into her car to drive away from it all, her mind was a storm of emotions—rage, sorrow, and regret. The betrayal, the lies, the years she had lost weighed down on her heavily. She had no direction, nowhere to go, and no one who cared about her. As she sped down the road, her thoughts consumed by everything she had lost, fate struck again.

The screech of tires, the deafening crash—it all happened too fast. Her car spun out of control, flipping off the road and smashing into a tree. Jeevika felt the sharp pain tearing through her body, but worse than the physical pain was the ache in her heart.

She lay there, bleeding and broken, trying desperately to reach someone, anyone who might still care. She called her father, her stepmother, her stepsister. Each call went unanswered, the silence cutting deeper than the wounds on her body. Despair crept in, and as the world around her darkened, she saw something that shattered her completely—her stepmother, her stepsister, and Tara.

They were standing there, not far from the crash site, watching. Watching her die.

Her breath hitched as she realized they wouldn’t help her. No one would. Tara, the friend she had trusted, stood with a cold smile, her arms folded. Her stepmother and stepsister looked on without an ounce of concern. In that moment, Jeevika’s world collapsed entirely. Her family—her own flesh and blood—was letting her die.

Her vision blurred, and she could feel her life slipping away. The only thought that consumed her mind was revenge. How could they do this to her? All she had ever wanted was a simple life, the life her mother had dreamed for her. She had wanted nothing but peace and love. And now, as her life ebbed away, all she could think of was getting back at them.

“Please, God,” she whispered, her voice weak as tears streamed down her face. “Just one chance. Give me one more chance… I will change everything. I will get my revenge. Please, God…”

Her words faded into the night, and then everything went blank.

When Jeevika opened her eyes, the world was completely different. Her heart raced, confusion flooding her senses as she sat up. She was no longer in the wrecked car. She was no longer bleeding or broken. Instead, she was dressed in a rich, ornate wedding lehenga, her hands adorned with the deep red mehndi of a bride.

She looked around, her breath coming in sharp gasps. This wasn’t the site of her accident. This was a wedding—her wedding. Jeevika’s pulse quickened as the realization hit her. She was back. The intricate mandap, the sound of wedding chants, the soft glow of the fire—all of it felt eerily familiar.

It was the day of her wedding to Abhiman.

She was back to the moment when she had made the worst decision of her life. She had run away that day, thrown away everything. But now, God had given her exactly what she had begged for—a second chance.

Jeevika stood, the weight of her bridal attire heavy but not as heavy as the emotions swirling inside her. This time, things would be different. This time, she wouldn’t run away.

This time, she would stay, and she would make sure that everyone who betrayed her paid for it.

The beginning of her revenge had just begun.

Jeevika sat on the mandap, her eyes distant as she recalled the whirlwind of events that had brought her to this moment. It felt like only yesterday when Abhiman had come to meet her for the first time. He had been calm and clear in his intentions, something that had both surprised and intimidated her. “I want to marry you,” he had said firmly, without hesitation. “I want a proper married life, nothing less. Just like the rest of my family, I expect us to live as husband and wife.”

His words echoed in her mind as he tied the mangalsutra around her neck, the weight of the sacred thread feeling heavier than she had anticipated. The pandit chanted his final blessings as Abhiman gently filled her maang with sindoor, sealing their union. “They are now married,” the panditji announced, his voice carrying a note of finality. “Go, seek the blessings of your elders.”

Jeevika and Abhiman rose together, the silence between them loud with the unsaid expectations that marriage held. They bent down before their parents, touching their feet and receiving blessings. Everyone seemed happy, and the house buzzed with the activity of celebration. The guests ate, laughed, and congratulated the newlyweds, but Jeevika felt strangely detached from it all.

Soon, the time for her bidaai came. This was supposed to be the emotional climax, the moment when every bride’s heart breaks as she leaves her family behind. But as Jeevika stood there, she felt strangely numb. The tears that she had expected didn’t come. It was only when she looked at her father’s kind, weathered face that her eyes began to well up. The thought of leaving him behind brought her to the edge of tears.

When she hugged her father, they both broke down. For a moment, the world around them faded, and it was just the two of them, their unspoken bond heavy in the air. Her stepmother came forward to embrace her, but Jeevika stiffened. She turned away, choosing not to acknowledge the woman who had always been cold and distant. She ignored her step-sibling as well, including the so-called friend who stood there, more envious than emotional.

Finally, she was led to the car that would take her to her new home. Abhiman walked ahead, exchanged a few reassuring words with her father, and promised to take care of her, to never let her be sad. It was a promise that sounded noble, yet Jeevika couldn’t help but feel uncertain. How well did they really know each other?

She climbed into the car, her mind swirling with exhaustion. Tears still fell down her cheeks as she processed the weight of the day. Abhiman handed her a box of tissues, his gesture more practical than comforting. The silent ride stretched on, and the fatigue from the long day, the crying, and the emotional stress began to take its toll. Without realizing it, Jeevika’s head found its way to Abhiman’s shoulder, and she fell asleep, her breath steadying in rhythm with the car’s gentle movements.

After some time, the car pulled up in front of Abhiman’s house. He looked down at Jeevika, still sleeping peacefully, her face soft and innocent in slumber. For the first time, a small smile crept across his face. “She looks like an angel when she’s sleeping,” he murmured to himself, his eyes filled with tenderness. "I can’t wake her up."

Without a second thought, Abhiman stepped out of the car, cradling her in his arms. He carried her bridal style towards the main door, where his family waited eagerly for their arrival. As soon as they saw him, the teasing began.

“Oho, bhai! Shaadi ke pehle hi joru ka ghulam ban gaye ho!” his younger brother, Veer, teased, his grin wide as he took in the sight.

“Bhai, I didn’t expect this from you,” his younger sister, Riddhi, added with a playful smirk. The rest of the family chimed in, their laughter filling the air.

The noise stirred Jeevika from her sleep. She blinked her eyes open, confused at first by the unfamiliar surroundings. Then, to her shock, she realized she was being carried in Abhiman’s arms, with everyone staring at them. Her face flushed red, and she turned to him quickly, whispering, “Please… put me down.”

Abhiman didn’t respond at first, his expression unchanged. He held her a little closer, ignoring her quiet plea. But when she looked up at him again, her eyes wide with embarrassment and discomfort, he relented. Gently, he set her down, but not without keeping her close, his hand still holding hers firmly as if to remind her of their bond.

The post-wedding rituals passed by in a blur of customs and traditions. Jeevika, though overwhelmed, managed to follow along as best as she could, her nerves making her more cautious with every step. Soon, the long day came to an end, and the elders announced that everyone should retire for the night. Tomorrow would be their grand reception, and there was much to prepare.

“Riddhi, beta, take Jeevika to Abhiman’s room. She must be tired,” Abhiman’s mother, Seema, said kindly.

Riddhi nodded and led Jeevika upstairs. As they entered the room, Jeevika was greeted by the overwhelming scent of fresh flowers. The entire space had been meticulously decorated for the wedding night, the bed covered in petals, the air thick with unspoken expectations.

Riddhi gave her a knowing smile. “Sit down, bhabhi. Bhai will be here in a couple of minutes.” She left the room, closing the door softly behind her.

Jeevika sat on the bed, her heart racing. She clasped her hands together tightly, trying to steady her breathing. This was the moment she had been dreading. Despite everything, despite the wedding, the rituals, the blessings, this part of the marriage made her feel the most vulnerable.

The room was silent, save for the soft flicker of candles, and Jeevika waited nervously for Abhiman to return.

Jeevika sat on the bed, her mind replaying the events from earlier in the hall. Her heart was still fluttering from the playful yet intense moment between her and Abhiman during the post-marriage rituals. Everything had felt surreal, as if she was living someone else's life. The ring-finding ritual, meant to determine who would be the dominant partner in their marriage, had been a source of nervous excitement for her.

"Bhaiya always wins, so I think he will win this time too. I’m on his side!" Riddhi had announced, confident in her brother’s ability to dominate the game.

"Nah, no way! I think my bhabhi will win. She’ll have Bhaiya wrapped around her finger in no time. He’ll do whatever she says, right, Bhabhi?" Veer teased, placing a hand on Jeevika’s shoulder with a mischievous grin.

Jeevika had blushed at his words, her cheeks warming with the unexpected attention. Abhiman, however, wasn’t amused. His dark eyes had flicked toward Veer, clearly irritated by his touch on Jeevika. The tension was palpable, but Veer only smirked, noticing his brother's expression and stepping back, amused by Abhiman’s possessiveness.

"Stop teasing, and let's begin the ritual. Let’s see who wins!" Seema, Abhiman's mother, had said, cutting through the banter with a smile.

The ring was dropped into the bowl of milk and rose petals, and both Abhiman and Jeevika had plunged their hands into the bowl, searching for the small piece of jewelry. In the first round, Jeevika had found the ring quickly, to everyone's surprise. The second round, however, had gone to Abhiman, his fingers closing around the ring effortlessly.

Now, it all came down to the final round. Jeevika's heart raced as she searched for the ring, her fingers brushing against petals and milk. Then, suddenly, she felt a warm hand wrapping around hers under the surface. She looked up, startled, only to meet Abhiman’s smirk. He gave her hand a gentle but firm squeeze, and before she could react, she felt something small and solid in her palm. It was the ring. He had given it to her.

Her eyes widened in surprise, but before she could ask why he had let her win, he gave her hand a quick pinch, jolting her out of her thoughts. She let out a soft gasp and instinctively pulled her hand out of the bowl, holding the ring high for everyone to see.

“I won!” she announced, her voice a mix of surprise and triumph.

Cheers erupted from their family members, and Abhiman’s mother clapped her hands in delight. “Now, Abhi, put the ring on her finger.”

Abhiman didn’t hesitate. He slid the ring onto Jeevika’s finger, his touch lingering longer than necessary. Even after the ring was on, he held her hand firmly, not letting go.

The next ritual had been equally nerve-wracking. Abhiman had to find his name hidden in the intricate patterns of her mehendi. It didn’t take him long—within seconds, his sharp eyes found the letters woven into the delicate design. He had smiled, his confidence evident, as though everything was falling perfectly into place.

But now, sitting alone on the bed in the quiet of their bedroom, Jeevika’s nervousness returned tenfold. She fidgeted with the hem of her dupatta, waiting for Abhiman to come in. She remembered his words from earlier, the ones that had hinted at his intentions for this night. She knew what was coming. It was their wedding night—the night where they were expected to consummate their marriage.

Her stomach churned with anxiety. Jeevika wasn’t ready for this. She had never been close to any man before, and though Abhiman was now her husband, the thought of what would happen between them tonight filled her with dread. How would he behave? Would he be gentle, or would he be the commanding man she had glimpsed beneath his calm exterior?

Suddenly, she heard the door creak open. Her heart leapt into her throat as Abhiman entered the room, his presence instantly filling the space. He didn’t say anything at first, just walked toward her slowly, his eyes never leaving her face. Jeevika instinctively curled her legs closer to her body, her hands trembling slightly in her lap.

He knelt down in front of her, his eyes now focused on her feet. Without a word, he gently took one of her ankles and placed it in his lap. Jeevika tensed, unsure of what he was doing, but then she saw him holding a small anklet—payal. He was putting it on her. The gesture was unexpected, and for a brief moment, Jeevika forgot her nervousness. She had always liked wearing payal, simple ones like this that weren’t too heavy but still added a soft, melodic charm to her steps.

When he was done, Abhiman pressed a kiss to her forehead, then her cheek. Jeevika’s breath hitched as his lips brushed against her skin. His kisses were soft, almost tender, but her mind was spinning, unsure of what to do. Then, without warning, his lips found hers.

The kiss was firm, his lips moving over hers with certainty. Jeevika’s eyes widened, her body stiff with shock. She didn’t know how to respond. She had never kissed anyone before, and the unfamiliarity of it left her frozen. Sensing her lack of response, Abhiman’s hand moved to her waist, giving her a sharp pinch. She gasped in pain, her mouth opening, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue exploring her mouth.

Jeevika was too overwhelmed to react, her mind blank as he continued kissing her. When he moved to her neck, his lips trailing down her skin, she felt a strange mix of sensations—fear, uncertainty, and a growing awareness of his touch. Her hand instinctively moved to his shoulder as he kissed her neck, his lips now dangerously close to her collarbone.

But then, something shifted. Jeevika’s heart pounded harder as she felt his fingers on the edge of her blouse, starting to undo it. Panic surged through her, and without thinking, she grabbed his hand, stopping him.

“Ji… woh… I’m not ready for this,” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. Her heart raced, terrified of how he might react to her refusal.

Abhiman paused, his dark eyes meeting hers. For a moment, the air between them felt heavy, as if he was trying to decide whether to respect her words or push forward.

Then, without a word, he leaned forward and kissed her gently on the lips. Jeevika’s eyes filled with tears, and one slipped down her cheek. She had braced herself for him to force her into something she wasn’t ready for, but instead, he pulled back.

He didn’t say anything, but his actions spoke louder than words. For now, he would wait.