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>>>>______________<<<<

CHAPTER 56

Previously on She is Mine. My wife.

He picked up the diary.

And when he opened it

He froze.

His hands went cold.

His breath stopped.

On the very first page, written in clean, feminine handwriting:

JANKI RAVI PRASADRAJ

Abhi's mind spun, a sharp punch of shock hitting him straight in the gut.

This wasn't just a diary.

This was a truth someone had protected for decades.

And the first page alone was enough to tell him:

The story behind Janki's death was not just painful.

It was dangerous.

>>>>>>_____________<<<<<<

TARGET

VOTE: 150

COMMENT: 50

>>>>>___________<<<<<

FLASHBACK OF JANKI

JANKI'S POV

People assume an heiress walks into a place like a B-school as if she owns it.

Maybe some do.

I didn't.

I walked through those glass doors with my chin up, yes but that confidence wasn't arrogance. It was survival. When people look at you and see your last name before your face, you learn to hold your spine straight.

The campus buzzed with freshers dragging luggage, taking selfies, pretending they weren't lost. I caught some people staring the usual curiosity, the silent whisper of "that's JANKI PRASADRAJ... her father owns..."

I ignored it and adjusted the strap of my tote bag, stepping toward the notice board.

Class schedule. Orientation timing. List of textbooks.

One particular book was already highlighted with a red star:

"Organizational Behaviour Advanced Edition."

Mandatory for the first assignment.

Perfect. First day and they already want us to fight for a book.

I sighed, tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, and headed straight to the library.

IN THE LIBRARY

The moment I stepped in, the cool air hit me that old-book smell mixed with polished wood. For a second, I felt lighter. Libraries always made sense to me; they don't judge, they don't gossip, they don't measure you by your bank balance.

I walked directly to the management section.

Empty shelf.

Just a metal label saying "Organizational Behaviour".

Of course.

But then I spotted it the last copy, being flipped open by a tall guy in a navy-blue shirt, sleeves rolled neatly to his forearms, hair slightly messy like he'd been running.

He looked... serious. Not stiff-serious, but deep-focus serious.

Like a man who always had a hundred things on his mind and didn't waste energy on unnecessary words.

I cleared my throat.

"Excuse me?"

He didn't look up.

He just held one finger up the universal 'one second' sign.

My brows twitched.

Not the best start.

He finally turned a page and said, still not looking at me,

"Someone else already asked. I'm taking it first."

My jaw tightened.

"I didn't ask you anything yet."

That made him look at me.

Sharp eyes. Dark.

Not cold just guarded.

"Oh," he said flatly. "I thought you were another... never mind."

"Another what?" I pressed.

His gaze flickered over my clothes crisp white shirt, beige trousers, gold watch.

I knew that look.

People used it to slot me into categories.

He didn't say it, but I heard the unspoken word: rich.

I crossed my arms. "I just wanted to know if I can have it after you're done. Not immediately. I'm not here to snatch it from your hands."

His expression didn't change much, but something about his shoulders eased. Slightly.

"I'll return it in an hour," he said. Not accusing. Just stating.

"Thank you," I replied coolly.

But the irritation remained. Not because he refused he didn't but because he assumed.

I walked away before he could say anything else.

I sat near the window with my laptop, pretending to read through the syllabus, but my attention kept straying.

Why had that stupid one-second gesture annoyed me so much?

Maybe because I came here hoping stupidly that at least in this new place, people might try to know me before judging.

And then the first boy I speak to does exactly what everyone else does.

I exhaled sharply.

Fine. It didn't matter.

I watched him from the corner of my eye later as he moved deeper into the shelves, book in hand, eyebrows pulled together in full concentration.

Serious type.

Focused type.

Probably the scholarship topper.

Definitely the "I don't talk much" type.

I didn't know then how accurate I was.

About twenty minutes later, I got up to stretch my legs. That's when I saw him halfway across the floor, kneeling to help a younger student who had dropped an entire stack of notes.

He wasn't irritated.

He wasn't superior.

He wasn't rushing.

He collected every paper quietly, placed them neatly into the junior's hands, and only said two words:

"Be careful."

Not harsh. Not soft.

Just... gentle.

It took me off-guard.

This wasn't the rude guy I met.

This was someone else entirely calm, considerate, quietly kind.

And he didn't do it to impress.

He didn't even notice me watching.

The realization hit me harder than I wanted to admit:

He's not arrogant. He's just guarded.

IN CLASS

When I turned back toward my desk, I caught him glancing at me.

Not staring.

Just observing.

His gaze softened very slightly when he saw me talking to a girl who was on the verge of tears over her assignment confusion.

I sat next to her, explained the task calmly, showed her the portal, told her which seniors could guide her.

When I finished, I noticed him still looking.

Not judgmental this time.

More like... reassessing.

Like he was realizing he had been wrong about me, the same way I had been wrong about him.

We didn't speak again for the entire day.

But something had shifted quietly, silently.

He began seeing me differently. I think.

But I began seeing him differently.

We didn't know it then, but that small shift was the exact place where everything started.

The next morning, I walked into our "Organizational Behaviour" class with my notebook in hand and zero expectations.

I had already decided one thing:

I am going to mind my own business.

No judging.

No assuming.

No unnecessary interactions with that navy-blue-shirt boy from the library.

The class was already half full. People had formed their little fresher groups the overfriendly ones, the academically terrified ones, the "we came from the same undergrad" ones.

I scanned for a seat in the middle row.

And that's when I saw him.

Ravi Kumar Reddy.

I heard his name being called yesterday, thats when I know his name.

Sitting in the second row, near the window, posture straight, bag placed neatly beneath the desk, pen aligned with his notebook, eyes fixed on the board like he was preparing for a battle.

Of course he was here early.

Of course he was focused like it was an exam.

I turned my gaze away instantly.

I did not want round two of our awkward tension.

I slipped into a seat three rows behind him.

But the universe is irritatingly nosy it never lets things go smoothly.

Halfway through the lecture, the professor clapped loudly.

"Alright, everyone! You'll be working in pairs for the first mandatory assignment."

People groaned. Some cheered.

I didn't react. Group work was normal.

The professor continued, "I'll be pairing you all randomly. No choosing friends."

Good.

Less drama.

"Let's begin... Janki Prasadraj and--"

He squinted at the sheet.

"Ravi Kumar Reddy."

The silence around me felt heavy as stone.

Of all the 60 students in this room... him?

I kept my expression blank even though my brain was screaming internally.

Ravi slowly turned around.

His eyes met mine.

Steady.

Unreadable.

But definitely surprised.

I exhaled through my nose.

He gave a tiny nod respectful, neutral as if acknowledging a difficult assignment rather than a human being.

So be it.

______________

After class, everyone shifted into corners to discuss plans.

I gathered my notebook and walked up to him.

He stood straight, almost too formal, as if talking to people wasn't something he did casually.

"We should divide the work today," I said first, because someone needed to break the ice.

He nodded. "Yes."

Silence.

He wasn't giving me anything.

I was not going to stand here like a fool.

"Look," I said, "I have classes until 4 p.m., but I'm free after that. You?"

"Same. I work at the typing center after 6, so before that."

I blinked.

Typing center.

That small detail hit different.

Not because middle-class jobs surprised me people worked everywhere.

But because he told me without hesitation. No shame. No ego. Just... fact.

"Library at 4:15?" I suggested.

He nodded again. "I'll be there on time."

He turned to leave, but then paused and looked back.

That guarded expression cracked slightly.

"About yesterday..." he said.

I raised an eyebrow. "What about it?"

"I wasn't rude on purpose," he said quietly. "I thought you were someone else. Someone who tried to take advantage of the library system."

"So you assumed," I cut sharply.

He didn't defend himself.

He didn't argue.

He simply said, "Yes."

The honesty disarmed me. Brutally.

"And you misjudged me too," he added, not harshly just stating the truth.

My lips parted.

He was right.

I had assumed he was arrogant.

He wasn't.

"Fair enough," I said, softer.

It was the first moment we both met eye to eye - not as heiress and scholarship student, not as stereotypes, not as strangers.

Just two human beings acknowledging their flaws.

He nodded once more and left.

And for the first time... he didn't look guarded. He looked real.

________________

I reached the library early - old habit.

I liked settling into a space before the chaos arrived.

At exactly 4:15, he walked in.

Not a second early.

Not a second late.

Disciplined down to the minute.

He sat across from me.

"So," I began, flipping open my notebook, "do you want to divide by chapters or concepts?"

"I'll take the theory-heavy parts," he said immediately. "I'm familiar with the author's previous work."

I blinked. "You already studied this?"

He nodded. "Most of it. I downloaded free PDFs during my CAT prep."

Right.

CAT toppers were built differently.

"And you?" he asked.

"I'll take the research part," I said. "Interviews, behavioural patterns, analysis. I like the human side of management."

His lips twitched.

Not a smile just a flicker.

Barely there.

But I caught it.

"You read people well," he said quietly.

It stunned me more than it should have.

Most people saw my clothes, my family name, my car.

Not... me.

"How do you know?" I asked.

"You understood that junior's anxiety immediately yesterday," he said without hesitation. "You explained everything calmly. People usually avoid responsibility on the first day."

I stared at him.

He had noticed that?

Before I could respond, he lowered his gaze back to the book.

This man...

He noticed everything.

He just never said it aloud unless necessary.

______________

We worked for nearly an hour, silent except for the occasional discussion.

But the silence wasn't awkward.

It was... comfortable.

At one point, a group of students at the next table started whispering loudly.

"Look, that's Janki Reddy... her father owns---"

"Who's that guy with her? Is he also from some big family?"

"Probably trying to flirt."

Ravi froze slightly.

Of course he heard them.

The whole floor did.

I clenched my jaw, ready to confront the idiots, but Ravi spoke before I could.

"Ignore them," he said calmly, not looking up. "Noise doesn't change truth."

I stared at him.

That was the first time someone told me to ignore gossip not because they were scared of my family, but because they genuinely didn't care about the noise.

"You're strangely unaffected," I said.

He shrugged lightly. "People have talked about me my whole life. 'Middle-class boy with ambitious dreams.' 'Scholarship kid.' 'Doesn't fit in.' I stopped caring."

There was no bitterness in his voice.

Just acceptance.

I felt something shift inside me.

Because this this steadiness, this calm, this inner strength was something I had never seen up close.

And it was... attractive.

Not in a dramatic, romantic way.

But in a quiet, dangerous way that sneaks up on you before you notice.

___________

We packed up after finishing.

As we walked toward the exit, it began drizzling outside.

Great.

I hated rain without warning.

I stopped near the door, annoyed.

Ravi opened his umbrella an old black one, slightly bent at the edges.

He didn't offer it dramatically.

Didn't try to flirt.

He simply said, "The hostel gate is far. You'll get drenched. Come."

A plain statement.

No expectation.

No hidden meaning.

Just practicality.

I hesitated.

Not because of him but because I wasn't used to simple kindness without an agenda.

He looked at me, eyebrows slightly raised. "You're overthinking for no reason."

I huffed. "Fine."

We walked together, close enough that our shoulders almost touched as the rain pattered around us. Neither of us spoke.

The silence wasn't empty this time.

It was charged.

Alive.

Warm in a way I couldn't fully explain.

By the time we reached the gate, something between us had undeniably shifted.

Still subtle.

Still quiet.

But real.

_______________

If someone had told me a month ago that I would find comfort, actual comfort in the presence of Ravi Kumar Reddy, I would've laughed. He was the kind of man people admired from a distance, not the kind who slipped quietly into someone's daily routine.

But somehow... he slipped into mine.

It wasn't dramatic. It wasn't a big moment.

It was small things too many of them.

The way he always saved a seat for me during lectures, even though he never said he was saving it.

The way he'd walk beside me in the corridors, slightly angled like he was shielding me from the crowd not intentionally, but instinctively.

The way he'd lower his voice when speaking to me, even though he barely spoke to anyone else anyway.

And the way he listened.

He listened like every word mattered.

_____________

Our so-called friendship started becoming a habit.

We stayed back in the library together.

We partnered for presentations.

We studied together in the quiet garden corner near the East block, under that overgrown gulmohar tree.

Sometimes we didn't even talk we just sat, and somehow that silence felt... warm.

He would bring me coffee without asking.

I would bring him snacks because he always skipped lunch like an idiot.

We didn't say we were friends.

We just became that without thinking.

But the closeness?

That grew without permission.

Like when I fixed his tie before a seminar.

Or when he brushed a strand of hair behind my ear while I was scribbling something and it fell onto my face.

Those moments were clean.

But not harmless.

Because every time it happened, my stupid heartbeat would react like it was auditioning for a drum competition.

___________

And then came the jealousy.

First, mine.

It wasn't planned it ambushed me.

A girl from our class Aparna came to Ravi during break. She smiled too much, tilted her head too much, and placed her hand on his table a little too close to his.

"Ravi, can you help me with the finance notes? I don't understand Chapter 3..."

He looked up politely.

Nodded.

Explained something.

Completely normal.

But I didn't feel normal.

My stomach twisted, and my chest tightened in a way I absolutely did not appreciate. I tried to focus on my laptop but ended up typing a whole line of random letters.

At one point, Aparna leaned closer, near his shoulder.

I snapped.

I didn't even think I just stood up, walked straight to him, placed my hand on his shoulder and said casually,

"Ravi, you're coming with me. Right now."

He blinked at me, confused but obedient of course he stood up.

Aparna looked shocked.

I didn't care.

Once we were out of the room, Ravi stopped walking.

"Janki... what was that?"

I pretended to shrug. "Nothing. I needed help."

"With what?"

I had no answer. Because the truth was ridiculous:

Help me because I'm jealous like a fool.

But he didn't push. He just stared at me with that calm, searching gaze that made me want to either confess or run.

I chose neither.

I just started walking, and he walked beside me without asking again.

And just like that, my jealousy didn't feel stupid anymore it became a secret I kept in my chest.

__________

But karma didn't let me escape.

A week later, karma struck him.

Hard.

It was a Saturday guest lecture day. One of our visiting alumni, Devansh, was a charming, extroverted idiot with zero concept of personal space. He was funny and bold and kept flirting with the entire class, including me.

During the break, he said,

"Janki, you should come to the alumni meet next month. I'll personally give you a tour."

I smiled politely. "Sure."

He took a step closer. "Give me your number, I'll send the details."

Before I could answer, a warm, firm hand wrapped around my wrist and pulled me a step back.

Ravi.

His jaw clenched, his eyes ice-cold.

"She doesn't give her number to strangers," he said quietly.

Devansh raised a brow. "Stranger? We're alumni."

Ravi's voice dropped even further. "That's still not a reason."

Devansh smirked. "Are you her boyfriend or something?"

My breath caught.

Ravi didn't flinch, didn't look away from Devansh.

But he didn't say "no" either.

He just tightened his hold on my wrist.

And for a second...

I swear I forgot how to breathe.

After Devansh walked away, Ravi still didn't let go.

He walked me out of the hall, into the open corridor, still holding my wrist like if he let go, something would happen.

"Ravi," I finally said softly.

He stopped.

"If you hold any tighter, you'll break my bones."

Only then he realised and immediately released me, stepping a whole foot away. His ears turned red.

"Sorry," he muttered.

I lifted my hand and poked his shoulder.

"No. Tell me why you did that."

He didn't answer.

But his silence wasn't empty.

It was loud.

Louder than any confession.

He was jealous.

Clearly.

Painfully.

And for the first time...

instead of panicking or hiding, I smiled.

____________

That night, the realisation hit me.

I liked him.

Simple. Clean. Unavoidable truth.

No maybe more than like.

Because when someone becomes the first person you look for in a room...

the first person whose opinion matters...

the first person whose safety sits in your heart like a weight...

That's not liking.

That's...

something else.

But I wasn't going to wait for him.

He was too controlled, too disciplined, too scared of crossing boundaries.

So the next day, I decided I would do it.

I would propose.

Not dramatic.

Not filmy.

Just real.

___________

He was sitting under the gulmohar tree when I reached reading, as always.

When he saw me, that rare, soft smile touched his lips.

"Good morning," he said.

I sat beside him, close enough that our shoulders brushed.

He looked at me, confused by my seriousness.

So I took a deep breath and said it exactly the way my heart wanted to

"Ravi... I love you. And I don't want to pretend anymore."

He froze.

I continued calmly, "I don't want a big moment. I don't need anything dramatic. I just want you to know that the way I look for you... the way my day doesn't feel complete unless I've spoken to you... the way I feel when someone else comes near you--"

I paused, smirking slightly.

"---all of that means I like you. More than a friend."

He stared at me like I had just rewritten the laws of gravity.

When he finally spoke, his voice was low, shaken.

"I thought you'd never say it."

I blinked. "Why?"

He exhaled. "Because... I've felt the same for weeks. But I didn't want to lose what we had."

My heart stopped.

He looked straight into my eyes.

"I love you too, Janki."

It wasn't loud.

It wasn't flowery.

It was honest.

It was him.

I smiled, leaned forward, and rested my forehead against his shoulder soft, steady, warm.

His hand came up, hesitantly at first, then firmly resting on my back.

And in that moment, under the shade of that old gulmohar tree...

_____________

The final year of our MBA slid by faster than I expected. Part of it was because Ravi and I had fallen into a rhythm not the immature kind where couples cling to each other every minute, but the adult version. He was disciplined as hell, I was ambitious by birth, and together we pushed each other harder than any professor ever could.

We graduated with top ranks.

He got an offer letter from one of Hyderabad's elite consulting firms six digits starting salary, the kind my father would respect if he bothered to look past Ravi's surname.

As for me, I stepped straight into the Prasadraj empire boardrooms, project reports, land negotiations, Krishna, my anna (brother) he is the most protective brother. Just because i asked him to leave me alone in masters days he left me without bodygaurds. But now he is being like a shadow again.

But even with our insane schedules, Ravi and I carved time for each other. Early morning chai. Late-night calls. Random drives to Necklace Road when both our heads were about to explode.

But happiness never lasts in rich families with fragile egos.

_______________

I made the mistake of meeting Ravi at a café near his office. Nothing romantic just stress relief, two sandwiches, and me whining about a failed tender.

But Krishna's bodyguard saw us.

By evening, Krishna stormed into my father's study like he was reporting treason.

"Dad... she's meeting someone. A middle-class boy."

That was all it took.

Rajiv Prasadraj didn't ask.

Didn't listen.

Didn't think.

He decided.

The next morning they called me downstairs and dropped the bomb like it was a business announcement.

"You're marrying Madhav," my father said. "Next week."

I laughed at first.

A stupid reaction.

But the audacity was so unbelievable, my brain refused to take it seriously.

"I'm not marrying him," I replied. Calmly. Too calmly.

The slap came so fast I didn't even see his hand move.

My cheek burned. My pride cracked. And before I could even touch my face, he ordered the servants to lock me inside my room.

One week.

One forced marriage.

They thought that would break me.

It almost did.

_______________

Radha, my sister in law managed to steal my old phone from the storage room and have it me. Only she supported me. I hid in the bathroom to call Ravi.

The moment he picked up, I broke.

"Please... take me away from here, my family have arranged a marriage woth my brother's friend. Ravi i don't want to marry him please take me from here" I whispered, because crying had stolen my voice.

I didn't beg often. I never needed to.

But this time, I did. To my Ravi.

On the other side, I heard Ravi's breath hitch.

"I'm coming jannu. Dont cry."

His words. Solid. Unshakable.

He tried to talk to my father before anything drastic, but obviously Rajiv never let him in. Forget conversation he wasn't even allowed past the gate.

My dad and brother never wanted to see him.

So Ravi switched plans.

_____________

Breaking into Prasadraj Mansion is not easy.

Breaking in without being seen is impossible.

But Ravi did it not because he's reckless, but because love makes even the most disciplined man gamble his entire future.

With two of his closest friends distracting the guards, he climbed silently into my balcony. I still remember the way he looked sweaty, anxious, but resolute.

"Come," he whispered.

I didn't think twice.

I grabbed my dupatta, some of my savings money, and my courage and ran.

We escaped into the quiet night like criminals instead of two adults making a choice about their own damn lives.

At dawn, we got married in a small temple.

No witnesses except two priests and sleepy dog.

I hadn't eaten anything since the night before. Ravi forced me to sit on the temple steps while he went out to buy breakfast for us.

That's when everything collapsed.

_____________

The gaurds caught me.

I didn't even hear them enter. One moment I was leaning against a pillar, the next their hands were around my arms, dragging me out.

I screamed Ravi's name.

He wasn't there.

They shoved me into the car, sped back home, and threw me into the living hall like I wasn't a human being but some dirty secret that escaped.

Krishna,my father, and... my mother stood there.

In the side, radha, my vadina was happy, she had a small smile on her face.

Their eyes immediately dropped to the mangalsutra around my neck.

The vermilion in my hair parted by Ravi's trembling fingers just hours ago.

My mother's face went white.

She clutched her chest and collapsed right in front of us.

I froze.

The world froze.

I tried to go to her but

Krishna yelled at me like all of this was my fault like my choice to love someone had physically harmed our mother.

They disowned me, cursed me and asked me not to come here ver again.

They rushed her to the hospital.

They left me standing there.

Radha vadina hugged and kissed my forehead and went running behind my brother who carried my amma in his arms.

I stood there.

Alone.

Broken.

And yet married.

______________

He reached the temple, found me missing, panicked, and drove straight to my house. When he saw me crying inside the hall, he didn't wait for permission.

He just held my shoulders and asked, "What happened? Where are they?"

And I told him.

For the first time ever, I saw Ravi's controlled nature break. His eyes filled not with weakness, but with helpless rage.

He took my hand and said, "Come. We're going home."

Except...

His home didn't take us in either.

His parents didn't want a scandal. Didn't want a rich family enemy. Didn't want a daughter-in-law who brought chaos at the doorstep.

They shut the door in our faces.

Just like that. We ended up,

On the road.

No home.

No acceptance.

No backup plan.

Just two people standing in the middle of Hyderabad traffic, holding each other's hands with no idea where to go next but damn sure they weren't letting go.

>>>>_____________<<<<

Bye

Diya kumar