Married to My Brother-in-Law, In Love with His Brother (Early Acess Ch 8)

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Now… let’s dive back in, shall we? 😉

The next morning broke pale and cold, despite the summer sun. Rajveer hadn’t slept. He sat at the edge of the bed, sleeves rolled to his elbows. The wedding photo was no longer on the dresser. He had tucked it into a drawer—out of sight, but not out of mind. Looking at it felt like betrayal. He had to come up with a name for the child soon, a name that would honor both his heritage and his wife's memory.

The baby cried again—softly, briefly.

And then Meenal’s voice, steady as breath, soothed him back into silence.

He didn’t rise.

A knock came—not at his door, but the main one.

Voices followed. Low. Civil. But not warm.

By the time Rajveer descended the staircase, Meenal’s father had already been seated in the drawing room. Her mother was beside him, sari pleated sharply, lips pressed thin. A silver tray of tea rested untouched on the center table.

Meenal was not there.

Kamini Dev, Rajveer's father's mistress and Aditya's mother, stood near the doorway, arms folded, gold bangles stilling their soft chime. She said nothing, but her gaze was watchful—too watchful.

“Thakur Sahab,” Menaal's father began as Rajveer entered, standing out of respect.

Rajveer nodded, remaining quiet.

“We won’t take much of your time. What we have to say... is not easy. But it is necessary.”

He paused. Meenal's mother glanced at her husband, then at Rajveer.

“Our daughter is unmarried. And she has spent the past month living under your roof.”

Rajveer said nothing, though the word living felt ill-fitting. Meenal wasn’t living here. She was surviving, same as him—ghostlike, quiet, indispensable.

“You and I may know the truth, Thakur Sahab,” her father said gently. “But the world only sees what it wants to judge.”

Menaal's mother added gently, “We lost Megha. We cannot lose Meenal’s standing too. What will people say when they hear she stayed here? Her reputation will be tarnished, and she may face judgment and criticism from society. No one will marry her."

Rajveer’s shoulders stiffened. Because they are right, a girl like Meenal will be judged harshly for staying in a man's house, even if it is innocent. It's unfair, but that's the reality we live in. But his baby only recognizes her, and if she leaves now, he will die.

"Exactly," Menaal's father said. “And that need is why this conversation must happen.”

He drew a small, folded piece of cloth from his pocket—inside, a gold ring, modest but pure. "Megha is gone, but her child needs a mother. Maybe you can marry anyone, but no one can love that child like its own mother." He paced, the floor creaking beneath him—every step echoing with guilt, fear, and the unbearable weight of need. The responsibility crushed his shoulders, but he knew what had to be done—for Megha’s child, left behind and voiceless.

The silence cracked.

Rajveer sighed. He didn’t want to marry anyone. He didn’t want to stain Megha’s memory by moving on too soon. And Meenal—she deserved better. Not a widower with a child, old and broken. But would it be so wrong to be selfish—for his son's sake? To give him a whole family, even if his heart stayed broken? The internal struggle continued as he grappled with his conflicting emotions and responsibilities.

“Are you asking me to marry her?” Rajveer said flatly.

Menaal's mother didn’t flinch. “No. We’re not asking.”

Then softer, “We are pleading.”

Kamini shifted slightly, her silk sari whispering against the stone floor. She knew her son Aditya loved Meenal but remained silent because Rajveer had done so much for her. Kamini’s gaze dropped briefly to the floor, as if ashamed of how much she owed him—and how little she could repay.

Even when she had only been a mistress, Rajveer had given her, her son Aditya, and their shared place in the family a name—and dignity. And Rajveer's son does need a mother; that newborn child needs a mother's love and care, and Meenal could provide that for him. Kamini understood the complexity of it all—her son’s quiet hope, her debt to Rajveer, the unbearable silence between right and right.

Rajveer exhaled sharply through his nose. “Have you spoken to her?”

Menaal's mother nodded her head. “We did, but she refused to listen to reason. She is headstrong and stubborn, just like her father. But the baby will need a mother."

Rajveer turned to the window. The sun had broken through the clouds outside, casting golden bars across the floor.

“She deserves more than a name handed out of obligation. More than a place in this house with no promise of peace.”

“She deserves protection," Menaal's father said quietly. “If it cannot be love, then let it be honor.”

Honor.

That word again.

He had lived his life under its weight, its silence, and its rules.

Now it was knocking again, but this time with a child’s future tucked beneath its arm.

And Meenal? She had never asked for any of this.

Just as Megha hadn’t—and still, it had fallen upon her anyway.

“Call her in,” Rajveer said at last, his voice hoarse.

“I’ll speak to her myself.”

*****

Author’s Note 💭

Hey, lovely reader 💛

Whew. That chapter was a heavy one, wasn’t it? Rajveer stood at a crossroads—torn between memory, duty, and the quiet ache of what might be. And Meenal… well, she’s about to face a storm of her own.

Writing this chapter made me pause. Because sometimes, men like Rajveer seem stern, almost distant—like they’ve built themselves out of stone. But underneath all that steel is often something raw, unspoken, and deeply kind. Maybe it’s pride. Maybe it’s grief. Maybe it’s just fear wearing armor.

We often talk about what women sacrifice, but this was a moment to show how men, too, carry silent burdens. Especially in a world where softness isn’t expected from them. Rajveer isn’t loud about his pain—but it’s there, in every breath he holds back, in every decision he makes for a child who doesn’t even know his name yet.

👉 Now I want to hear from you:
Do you think Meenal should say yes?
Can love grow out of obligation—or does it need freedom to bloom?
And do you believe that some of the kindest hearts hide behind the coldest words?

“Should Meenal choose Rajveer or Aditya? 🤔 Vote below!”

Drop a comment 💬 or email me your thoughts—I read every single one (yes, even the long rants, and I love them 😅).

Until next time,
Stay soft, stay sharp, and never underestimate the quiet ones 💫
📝💫 — Shaar Shree