Chapter Fourteen: A Proposal Without Illusions

The city of shimmered under the quiet fall of night as Poornima stepped into her penthouse.

She didn’t go to the palace.

Not tonight.

Not after everything.

The silence here was different. It didn’t judge her. It didn’t whisper behind her back. It didn’t remind her of what she wasn’t.

It simply… existed.

She closed the door behind her, leaning against it for a moment, her eyes shutting as if she was trying to hold herself together.

The day had been too much.

Too overwhelming.
Too unfamiliar.

She walked slowly toward her room, her steps heavier than usual, and changed into something comfortable. The fabric felt soft against her skin—but her mind refused to rest.

Because no matter how much she tried…

He was still there.

In her thoughts.

Veeresh Rathore.

She sat down on the edge of her bed, her fingers unconsciously moving toward the ring on her hand.

And just like that—

The moment replayed.

The way he had stood in front of her.

Not romantic.
Not nervous.
Not even gentle in the way stories describe.

Just… real.

“I don’t love you.”

She let out a soft breath, her lips pressing together.

What kind of proposal started like that?

No flowers.
No softness.
No promises of forever wrapped in pretty words.

Instead—

Truth.

Blunt. Unfiltered. Almost harsh.

Her fingers tightened slightly.

“I am not husband material.”

The words echoed again.

No man had ever said that to her.

Not like that.

Not while looking directly into her eyes—without shame, without trying to impress her.

“I drink. I smoke. I have no good habits.”

She let out a faint, disbelieving laugh, shaking her head slightly.

Who admits all that… while asking someone to marry them?

Her gaze dropped to the ring again.

He had taken it off.

That moment…

It lingered.

The way her heart had skipped—thinking, for a second, that maybe…

He was taking it back.

That this was over before it even began.

But it wasn’t.

He had held her hand again.

Firm. Certain.

“I will be honest with you.”

Her breath slowed as she remembered his voice—steady, unwavering.

“I will fight. I will get angry.”

Not promises of perfection.

Not illusions of peace.

Just… reality.

“I might take out my frustration on you.”

Her brows had furrowed at that. Even now, she felt that slight resistance rise within her.

But then—

“I will never leave.”

That line.

That one line…

It had cut through everything else.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she pressed them against her lips.

Because no one had ever said that to her before.

No one had ever stayed.

And he said it like it was the simplest thing in the world.

Like leaving… wasn’t even an option.

Her chest tightened.

“I will be loyal.”

Simple.

But heavy.

Because loyalty…

Was something she had never truly received.

And then—

He had slid the ring back onto her finger.

Not like a prince claiming his princess.

But like a man making a decision.

A choice.

Her.

Despite everything he knew.
Despite everything she was.

She let out a slow breath, leaning back slightly.

“This isn’t how it’s supposed to feel…” she whispered to herself.

In her stories—

Proposals were intense. Emotional. Sweeping.

Men fought for love.
Women melted into it.

Everything was beautiful.

Perfect.

But this…

This wasn’t beautiful.

It wasn’t perfect.

It was messy.

Complicated.

Almost uncomfortable in its honesty.

And yet—

It felt more real than anything she had ever written.

Her eyes stung slightly, though she wasn’t crying this time.

Just… feeling.

Confused.

“Handle him…” she murmured again, a faint, tired smile touching her lips.

He had said it so casually.

As if he knew she would struggle.

As if he expected it.

As if… he was giving her a warning and a challenge at the same time.

Her gaze softened, her fingers gently tracing the ring once more.

“What are you, Veeresh…” she whispered.

Because he didn’t fit into any of her stories.

He wasn’t a hero.
He wasn’t soft.
He wasn’t even trying to be loved.

And yet—

He had offered her something no one else ever had.

Not dreams.
Not lies.

But truth.

And a place beside him.

Her heart felt unfamiliar in her chest—like it didn’t quite know how to respond.

Because for someone who had spent her entire life craving love…

This wasn’t love.

Not yet.

But it was something else.

Something raw.
Something uncertain.
Something that scared her…

And pulled her in at the same time.

Poornima lay back slowly, staring at the ceiling, the city lights flickering faintly through the window.

Her life had never been in her control.

Not as a child.
Not as a daughter.

And maybe…

Not even now.

But this time felt different.

Because for the first time—

Someone hadn’t hidden the truth from her.

He had placed it right in front of her.

And asked her to stay anyway.

Her eyes slowly closed, her fingers still wrapped around the ring.

And one thought lingered softly in her mind—

This wasn’t a fairytale.

But maybe…

It was something real enough to change her story.