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My Vulnerary Husband- our journey towards love

Innaya Kapoor, granddaughter of late Mr. Viraj Kapoor agrees to disagree with the concept of love. So obviously, marriage is off limit, driven by her own experiences of relationships. Worried for his granddaughter, Mr. Kapoor before passing away, chooses an alliance for her, she is unaware of. Six months past his demise, the chosen groom's arrival comes as a shock to clueless Innaya. Torn between her Grandpa's last wish and her own fears, Innaya decides to take a leap of faith after meeting her chosen husband. Innaya knows the scars of past she carries are enough to destroy her present if she gave in. She enters into her marital life, not prepared for having her husband to become her own vulnerary, ready with an armor of love for breaking down the walls of her past. The only thing she did not realize that everyone has their secrets and he had his own too. ____________________________________________ This story revolves around the mental health issue PTSD. NOTE - It may be an Indian story but there is nothing in it, that the non-Indian readers won't understand. So, my dear non-Indian readers, give it a try! It won't disappoint you :) Cover Image belongs to its respected owner. It's not mine. If you would like to connect with me: Discord: Mukta (My Vulnerary Husband)#5392

Mukta · Urban
Not enough ratings
266 Chs

Learning about the truth (5)

|Innaya|

Looking at the downcast expressions on Eshan's mother's face as she drank that vile liquid, I felt troubled. Unlike Eshan and Arjun, she had difficulty with drinking the juice. Her complexion turned paler and paler as she forced herself not to spit it out. Her nose scrunched up. From time to time, she would glance at me and then to her husband's side.

Was she waiting for me to offer her gulab jamun? Perhaps she wanted her husband to stop her. However, he did not move and stared ahead firmly. He was not going to help her. That left me with no choice.

Making my mind, I picked up the bowl of gulab jamun and pushed it in Eshan's hand. Keeping my gaze lowered, I slightly curved my finger and pointed towards his mother. He should be able to understand. Though I had calmed down early, I could not bring myself to initiate a conversation with his mother. What if she misunderstood me?