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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 · 现代言情
分數不夠
266 Chs

I Haven’t Even Started, and You’ve Turned into a Tomato.

WARNING: MATURE CONTENT AHEAD: READERS ARE WARNED TO PROCEED WITH CAUTION:: 

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|Innaya|

Knowing Sahil's past, I could somehow understand him. Being the person who went through something terrible at childhood, I knew how it changes life. The people around us determine the course of our thinking as a child. It leaves a huge impact. But my sympathy stopped there. After growing up, he could have determined what was right and what was wrong. 

That night when he came barging and demanding an explanation was clearly etched in my memory. He had reminded me of my father then. For that, I could never forgive him. And, according to Eshan's words, there was more to it. Sahil's involvement in our life was more profound than I could have ever thought. 

Then there was Ayesha and her mother. I wanted answers, but my husband did not look like he would answer them.