It was during a family dinner when an uncle made a cruel remark. “Gunnu is still a child, playing at being wife. Abhinav deserves someone mature, don’t you think?”
The words stung Gunnu, though she covered it with a smile. But Abhinav’s head lifted sharply. His voice came out firm, steely, final.
“She is my wife. No one questions her worth under my roof. Ever.”
The table fell silent. Gunnu stared at him, stunned. He never raised his voice—but now his quiet wrath struck like lightning. The uncle mumbled an apology and shifted uncomfortably.
Later, Gunnu confronted him. “Why did you defend me like that?”
“Because you are mine to defend.” His tone left no room for doubt.
Her heart raced. The words shouldn’t have sounded so intimate, so possessive—but they burned through her in ways that made her both flustered and secretly thrilled.
For the first time, she saw—not just the soldier—but the man who felt deeply, fiercely, and more than he could say aloud.
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