Gulabo

Yash's POV: 

It's summer. I'm finally heading back home after two months—No, wait… two years, at least that's what my family believes.

They don't know the truth. They don't know I fly to India every month. Just for her. Just for a glimpse of the one person who keeps my demons at bay.My Gulabo. Inayat Chauhan. My girl—though she doesn't know it yet. She's too innocent. Too breathtaking. Like a living poem.

God, I need to see her. Now.

My body's headed back to Punjab, but my heart? It beats only for her. I can't survive without seeing her. She's my medicine— The cure to wounds no one knows I carry. Wounds I'll never let the world see.

My past is drenched in shadows.

My present—twisted and cold. 

And my future? That's a storm waiting to break loose.

I am a man made of darkness. But Inayat… She's the only sunshine I've ever known.

The first time I saw her… she wore a red suit, her cheeks tinted the same shade as if they were kissed by the wind. She looked like a blooming rose—divine, untouched, ethereal. A goddess wrapped in simplicity.

That day marked the end of me. And the extinction of every other woman in my world. Since then, I haven't looked at another soul the same way. No one else exists. No one ever will.

My thoughts were abruptly broken by the ringing of my phone. I glanced at the screen—Navver Singh Brar.

My brother. Not by blood, but by bond. Technically, he's my cousin. But if there's anyone who truly knows me, it's Nav.

Even though I'm not the type to express feelings or wear my heart on my sleeve, he knows I love him. He understands me. We're opposites in every sense—He's loud, impulsive, warm.

And me? I've been shaped by a past that turned me into this—Silent. Emotionless. Unreachable. Heartless, maybe.

But not for her. Never for my Gulabo. For her, I'd move mountains. I'd burn kingdoms. 

A month ago, some filthy bastard started bothering my sister—Mehakjot Kaur Brar. She's ten years younger than me, but in my eyes, she's not just my sister—She's my child. My heartbeat.

There are only two women in this world I'd burn everything down for—Mehak and my Gulabo.

Like always, Mehak didn't tell me anything. She never does. She believes she can fight her own battles—And while I admire her strength, the truth is, she's still a child. Too young. Too soft for this cruel world.

But I'm not. I had the boy tracked. Every detail of his miserable life was sent straight to Nav. 

And Nav? 

He unleashed hell. I didn't need to follow up. I trust him with Mehak's safety more than I trust myself. He loves her even more than I do—and that's saying something. And I accept that.

I ended the call with Nav after telling him one thing—I'm going to see my Gulabo first. He needs to cover for me at home. Make some excuses. I don't care what. But right now, nothing matters more than her.

I'm not someone who finds comfort in music—But there's one song I always go back to. A track by Tegi Pannu that feels like it was written from my own chest.

Because every time I hear it—I see her.

I parked my car right in front of Inayat's university. Before stepping out, I pulled my hood over my head—a necessary move. Too many people here recognize me.

I slipped out of the car and into the building like a shadow. Since childhood, I've always gotten what I wanted—by hook or by crook. But Inayat isn't something to be taken.

She isn't a possession. She's the most delicate, divine thing this brutal world has ever created.

And I won't take her by force. If she doesn't want me, so be it. But if she does… then there's no power on this earth—no god, no man—who can stop me from making her mine.

Her choice matters to me. As her happiness does. My eyes searched the crowd restlessly.

And then I saw her. Everything within me softened. There she was—my Gulabo. Draped in grace, lost in her own world.

She looked at me. Our eyes met—And she immediately looked away, her lashes fluttering down like a curtain. So innocent. I chuckled quietly. 

But then—someone grabbed her wrist. Him.

The same bastard who dared to propose to her months ago. I thought I made it clear—he was not allowed near her. Clearly, the message didn't sink deep enough. His mistake.

I turned to the nearby staff member. 

He blinked at me, confused. "Yes?"

"Tell him," I said, voice like steel wrapped in silk, "if he values his life—and if you value your university—stay the fuck away from Inayat." My tone remained calm. Threats don't need to be loud to be lethal.

"Who the hell are you to say that?" snapped the man—likely a professor.

I lifted my hood slightly, just enough.

"Yashdeep Singh Brar," I said, letting my name cut through the air like a bullet. "I won't think twice before turning this place into ashes. Deliver the warning."

He looked into my eyes—and froze. The fear was instant. He nodded without another word.

That boy was about to touch Inayat's cheek.

My blood boiled. Every nerve in my body screamed to break his wrist right there—But before I could move, the professor intercepted, leaned in, and whispered something in his ear. The boy flinched, apologized to Inayat, and slinked away.

Inayat glanced after him—then her gaze flicked to me. Our eyes locked. I smirked. She bolted. Like a frightened kitten. My frightened kitten.

I sent the boy's full information to my guard. He'll handle him. Permanently.

It's been over two years. Two years of watching her from a distance. Of memorizing every detail of her life—her smile, her sadness, and the shadows that try to dim her light. I've never approached her.

Nav mocks me for it. Calls me a coward for not speaking to her. But it's not about fear. It's respect.

Inayat is quiet. Private. She doesn't let just anyone in. And I'd rather carve my heart out than make her uncomfortable.

She sees me. Every time I visit—she notices. Just like I notice her. But neither of us has taken the first step. And that's okay. I can wait.

I'll wait for her to come to me, to talk to me on her terms. Until then, I'll keep the distance. And protect her from the shadows...including mine. 

As soon as Inayat disappeared into her classroom, I knew everything was under control. I texted my guard to position himself in front of the university gate. He's been protecting her—silently, discreetly—for the last two years.

She doesn't even know he exists. And that's how it should be.

He's one of my most trusted men. I pay him extra—not just to do his job, but to do it flawlessly. His only task: keep my Gulabo safe. At all costs.

Once he arrived, I slid back into my car and began the long drive to Punjab—back to the place I once called home. The same place that abandoned me when I was just eleven.

To them, they did the right thing—sending me away to Paris, giving me a "better future." But they didn't know. Paris wasn't a dream. It was a nightmare. A place that carved scars into my body and soul—scars that still bleed in silence.

I never thought I'd survive that darkness. But then she came into my life. Inayat. My gulabo. Whenever she's around, it feels like the world doesn't exist anymore.

She is my world.

My obsession.

My medicine.

My calm in a lifetime of chaos.

After hours on the road, I finally pulled up to the old haveli. It was glowing—decorated from top to bottom like a wedding was about to happen. And everyone knows: I'm the eldest son. So they assumed the first wedding would be mine. They couldn't be more wrong.

Marriage? Not in this lifetime. Not unless it's her.

I stepped inside, greeted by the usual hustle of the Brar household. My eyes immediately landed on my father—Amrinder Singh Brar—and my chachu, Randeep Singh Brar, seated on the velvet sofas in the grand living room.

My father…He claims he did everything for me, gave me everything. But the truth? He gave me away—to hell.

Still, I walked up, bowed down, and touched both their feet. My father pulled me into a hug. His face radiated joy. I know he loves me. But love sometimes comes with consequences. He was helpless. Unaware of what Paris truly did to me.

"My son… my heart… has finally come home," he said proudly, patting my back.

"Look at him," Chachu added with a grin. "All grown up, glowing. We should get him married now." He pulled me into a hug as well, laughter in his voice.

"You're right," came another voice—firm, sharp, familiar. My mother. Simarjeet Kaur Brar. She stood behind them, arms folded, her presence commanding.

The strongest woman I've ever known. 

My role model. My home. I rushed to her and wrapped my arms around her. Her embrace was the only place I could let go.

She was the only one who fought for me when they tried to send me away. She was heavily pregnant with Mehak at the time, yet she still fought. But in the end, I went—for her sake only, I never told her what Paris did to me. I never will.

"At least smile for me, Yash," she whispered, pouting. That's her only complaint. That I don't smile anymore. That I don't express anything.

"How are you feeling now, mom?" I asked, my face unreadable.

"Alive. After seeing you." Her voice broke me inside.

From behind her came another voice—sweet and teasing.

"Giving all your love to Mom only?" Jasmeet Kaur Brar. My chachi. I greeted her with folded hands and touched her feet. She pulled me into a soft hug.

And then—"Veerji!" 

The brightest soul in this house finally arrived—Mehakjot Kaur Brar. She jumped into my arms. I kissed the crown of her head, my fingers gently brushing through her hair.

"How are you doing?" I asked.

"Great, as always," she grinned. That smile—It heals pieces of me even I've forgotten about.

First Gulabo.

Then Mom.

And now Mehak. 

These three women…They are the only reason I still breathe.

Just then, a voice broke through our emotional reunion. "You forgot me, huh?" Navver Singh Brar. My brother. My mirror in chaos.

He strode forward and pulled me into a rough hug. We didn't need words.

Our eyes said everything. Two men who've survived their own wars, standing side by side once again.

Today, I made everything you love, Yash," my mother said, her voice overflowing with warmth and joy. We followed her into the dining room. Despite the many maids we had in the house, when it came to food, there was never any compromise.

Both my mother and chachi believed food made with love could never be replaced by hands hired with money.

We sat down for breakfast. The conversation flowed around business updates, intertwined with the endless chatter of Mehak and Nav. Those two never seemed to run out of things to say.

They were the noise that filled the silence inside me. As always, my mother asked the one question she never skipped.

"Have you found someone yet?"

And just like always, I shook my head. "No."

But this time, it wasn't the truth. There is someone. Someone who brings peace to my soul just by existing. But I can't tell her. Not yet.

Our business spans the globe now—Punjab remains the headquarters. Nav and I manage the branches in Paris and New York.

Meanwhile, my father oversees the fields. He finds peace in soil and crops. Farming is his pride.

After breakfast, I stepped back into my car—not heading to an office, but to where my heart truly belonged. Back to her. To Inayat. She must be working at the café by now.

I could easily give her the money to end her struggle—money that would silence her aunt forever. But I know that woman. A viper in human skin. She would twist the truth, accuse Inayat, question her dignity.

And that?

That I will never allow. Not even a whisper against Inayat's character. To me, she's purity itself. She's the very air I breathe. 

I sat near the window inside the café, hidden in plain sight. Admiring her.

She looked… weak. Tired. Worn down by life. And yet, still so breathtaking.

This café had strict rules—no lingering without placing an order. But I paid them enough to keep their mouths shut and their eyes elsewhere.

She brought a tray to a nearby table, and our eyes met. There was something heavy in her gaze. A silent cry for help she didn't know how to express. It pierced through me. Shattered me.

She wasn't okay. Why the hell was she working if she wasn't well?

If only she'd allow me…I'd give her a life she wouldn't have to escape from. But that aunt of hers would rip her apart with accusations if I stepped in.

One day, I'll kill that woman. Her husband too. For what they've done to my Inayat…Their time will come. But not yet.

Then it happened. She stumbled—her body giving out. I was on my feet before anyone else could react, catching her in my arms.

My heart stopped. For a second, it felt like the world did too. If anything were to happen to her…I swear on everything I am—It would be the end of her aunt and uncle.

The only reason they're still breathing is because Inayat still loves them. Despite the hell they put her through, she chooses kindness. That… that is what drives me mad.

I rushed her to the hospital, paid the bills without hesitation. I knew her aunt would rather see her bleed than pay for her healing.

I told the doctors—no compromise. Treat her like royalty.

When I entered her room, my chest tightened. There she was—lying on the hospital bed. Fragile. Still. Too still. She doesn't deserve this life. None of it.

I sat beside her, brushing a hand gently across her cheek. So soft. So breakable. But then I pulled back. I couldn't cross the line. Not yet.

"God," I whispered into the silence. "Give me her pain. All of it. Every wound. Every weight. Every scar."

I can carry darkness. I've lived in it. I am it. But she…She's made of sunshine. Too delicate to be dimmed by this cruel world.

Let it all fall on me. Just let her be okay.

God, why is she so pure? So heartbreakingly beautiful? Every time my eyes land on her, I feel this unexplainable ache… this need to pull her into me—hide her inside my soul where no one else can ever touch her. Ever see her.

I want to keep her.

Like a secret meant only for me.

Because if someone hurts her... I'll burn the world down with my bare hands.

Even the thought of her in pain—it tears me apart. I can't take it. Not even in my dreams.

She's become my obsession. My weakness. My religion.

She's mine. Only mine.