We came back home.
Aryan gently held my hand, looked into my eyes, and said softly,
"I'm sorry."
I pulled my hand away and screamed,
"Sorry? What sorry? Didn't I already warn you about the consequences? Didn't I tell you to be careful?"
I paused, took a deep breath, and continued in a firm voice,
"Now listen to me very carefully—you're no longer just an ordinary person. The moment you married me, you became a part of my world. You may not care about yourself, but at least have the decency to respect me."
"I won't tolerate people dragging my name through the mud because of your actions. When your name is connected to mine, you have a responsibility—to carry that name with pride."
"I've worked hard to build my reputation, and I won't let anyone tarnish it—not even you."
"From now on, be careful. If you ever fail to uphold my dignity again, I will forget who you are. And if that happens, the consequences will be far worse than anything you've experienced."
"There's only one thing in this world that truly scares me—my own anger. Because when it surfaces, it turns me into someone I don't even recognize. A villain."
"And when I become that version of myself... I destroy everything."
I stepped back, my voice now low but heavy with warning.
"So don't push me to that point. Ever."
---
Aryan stood frozen.
There was silence—long, tense silence. Then, he stepped closer, slowly, his eyes misted with pain and guilt.
Aryan (softly):
"I know I failed you today. And maybe I've failed myself too many times to count. But what hurts me more than anything right now… is not your anger—it's the fear in your eyes that I might be the one to ruin what you've built."
He knelt down in front of me, voice trembling.
"You didn't marry a perfect man. But I swear, I'm not weak. I don't want your reputation to suffer because of me—not anymore."
He looked up, broken, but sincere.
"You're right… I forgot that your name and mine are tied now. And that means your pride is mine to protect too."
He took my hand again.
"Give me one chance—not as your husband, but as your equal—to earn that respect. To walk beside you… not behind you."
Tears welled in my eyes, but I held them back. My heart ached to forgive him, but my pride remained tall.
I didn't speak, but I didn't pull away either. And in that silence—we both understood:
This wasn't just about marriage.
This was about power, love, redemption, and a vow to rise together—equally strong, equally scarred.