THE HONEYMOON PACT - One Night. One Truth. One Second Chance.
Sometimes the biggest fall is inside the heart.
Story: S A Spencer
Author of Popular Fictions: The Pink Mutiny, The Black Waters, Dream In Shackles
The taxi was winding up the narrow mountain road when the
driver casually dropped the sentence that nearly stopped Riya’s heart.
“Last year, a honeymoon couple came here. Husband slipped off
a cliff. Police later said it wasn’t an accident.”
Kabir laughed, shaking his head. “Mate, don’t spook my wife
on day one.”
The driver grinned in the mirror. “Just saying. These cliffs…
they’ve seen things.”
Riya forced a smile, but her fingers dug into the seat. The
air felt colder. The road felt steeper. And the plan she’d agreed to — the plan
she’d rehearsed for weeks — suddenly felt like a monster breathing down her
neck.
Kabir reached over and squeezed her hand. “Relax, Ri. We’ll
be at the resort soon.”
She nodded, but her stomach twisted. And she had no idea the
real fall was still ahead.
The resort was perched on the edge of a valley, all glass
balconies and pine‑scented air. Kabir was buzzing with excitement, pointing out
the view, the spa, the heated pool. Riya smiled when he looked at her, but the
moment he turned away, her face collapsed into worry.
Her phone buzzed.
A message from Arjun.
Tonight is perfect. Don’t lose courage.
Her throat tightened. She shoved the phone into her bag as
Kabir returned from the reception desk with the keys.
“Suite 804. Balcony faces the valley. You’ll love it.”
The balcony. The valley. The plan.
Her palms were already sweating.
The suite was beautiful — too beautiful for what she was
supposed to do. Soft lighting, a king‑size bed, a balcony with a glass railing
overlooking endless green. Kabir opened the curtains wide.
“Look at this view, Ri. Isn’t it stunning? What do you think?”
She nodded, but her eyes were on the railing. Thin. Waist‑high.
One push would be enough.
Her phone buzzed again.
Delete this after reading. We can’t leave a trail.
Her breath caught. She deleted the message instantly, then
panicked.
Deleting is also suspicious. Police can recover deleted
messages. They can track towers. They can trace everything.
Her hands shook. She imagined a courtroom. A judge.
Reporters. Her parents sitting in the back row, refusing to look at her. Arjun
nowhere to be found.
She imagined prison — twenty‑five years of concrete walls and
metal bars. She imagined stepping out at fifty, grey hair, no money, no family,
no future.
She imagined Arjun, the junior accounts clerk with a salary
barely enough for rent, telling her he’d “try his best” to support her… and
then slowly drifting away.
Her chest tightened.
Is this love? Or just a stupid fantasy of my sheltered youth?
Kabir walked out of the bathroom, hair damp, towel around his
neck.
“You alright? You look a bit off.”
She forced a smile. “Just tired from the travel.”
He kissed her forehead. “Have a nap. I’ll order tea.”
His kindness felt like a knife twisting inside her.
By evening, the sky had turned orange. Kabir suggested they
go for a walk around the property. Riya agreed, mostly because she needed air.
They strolled past pine trees and lanterns, Kabir talking about the places they
could visit tomorrow.
She barely heard him.
Her phone buzzed again.
Remember the plan. After dinner. Balcony. One push. I’ll be
waiting near the service road.
Her blood ran cold.
Kabir glanced at her. “Who’s messaging you so much?”
“Just… Mum,” she lied.
He nodded, but something flickered in his eyes.
They walked back to the room. Riya excused herself to the
bathroom. She splashed cold water on her face, gripping the sink.
I can’t do this. I can’t kill him. I can’t ruin my life. I
can’t trust Arjun. I can’t—
Her phone buzzed again outside.
Kabir, sitting on the bed, picked it up without thinking. He
assumed it was her mother again.
The screen lit up.
“Tonight. After dinner. Push him near the railing. I’ll be
waiting.”
Kabir froze.
The world around him blurred. His breath stopped. His hands
went cold.
He read the message again. And again. And again.
When Riya stepped out of the bathroom, he placed the phone
back exactly where it was and smiled at her.
“Dinner?” he asked softly.
She nodded, confused by his calmness.
He held her hand as they walked out of the room.
Her guilt grew heavier with every step.
Dinner was quiet. Too quiet. Kabir asked her about her
favourite foods, her childhood memories, her dreams. He listened with a
softness that made her chest ache.
After dessert, he said, “Come with me. I want to get you
something.”
She blinked. “Now?”
“Yeah. It’ll only take a minute.”
He took her to the jewellery store in the lobby. The lights
were warm, the glass counters sparkling. Riya felt sick.
Kabir pointed at a delicate diamond pendant.
“This one. It’ll look beautiful on her.”
The saleswoman smiled. “A honeymoon gift?”
Kabir nodded. “Yes. Something she’ll remember forever.”
Riya’s throat tightened. She wanted to scream. She wanted to
confess. She wanted to run.
But she stood there, frozen, as Kabir paid for the pendant
and clasped it around her neck.
His fingers brushed her skin gently.
“Perfect,” he whispered.
Her eyes burned.
Back in the suite, Kabir opened the balcony door. The night
air was cold, carrying the scent of pine and distant rain. The valley stretched
below them, dark and endless.
He poured two drinks. Handed one to her.
“Let’s sit,” he said.
She sat. Her hands trembled around the glass.
Kabir looked at her for a long moment. Not angry. Not
accusing. Just heartbreakingly calm.
Then he said, softly:
“Riya… why were you planning to kill me?”
The glass slipped from her hand and shattered on the floor.
Her breath vanished. Her vision blurred. Her knees buckled.
“K‑Kabir… I—”
He held up a hand. “Don’t lie. I saw the messages.”
She collapsed into the chair, sobbing. Words tumbled out —
fear, pressure, Arjun, the plan, the guilt, the panic, the stupidity of it all.
Kabir listened silently, his jaw tight, his eyes glistening.
When she finished, he exhaled slowly.
“You could have just told me you didn’t want this marriage.”
“I didn’t hate you,” she whispered. “I never hated you. I was
confused. I thought what I had with Arjun was love, but it wasn’t. It was just…
a fantasy. Something childish. Something that felt exciting because it was
forbidden.”
Kabir’s eyes softened, just a fraction.
“I felt something today,” she continued, voice cracking.
“When you held my hand. When you bought me that pendant. When you smiled at me
even though your heart must’ve been breaking. I felt something I’ve never felt
with Arjun.”
She took a shaky breath.
“I felt safe. I felt seen. I felt… loved.”
Kabir closed his eyes.
“I’m not asking you to forget,” she whispered. “I’m asking
for one chance. One chance to prove I can be better. That I can be the wife you
deserve.”
He opened his eyes and looked at her — really looked at her.
“Do you mean it?” he asked softly.
She nodded, tears spilling again. “With everything in me.”
He reached out and gently touched the pendant he’d bought
her.
“You know why I bought this?”
She shook her head.
“Because I wanted you to remember this night. Not as the
night you almost made the worst mistake of your life… but the night you chose
differently.”
Her breath hitched.
Kabir exhaled, long and heavy. “I don’t want a divorce, Riya.
I didn’t marry you to walk away at the first sign of trouble. But I need
honesty. I need trust. I need you to choose me — not because you’re scared, not
because you’re trapped, but because you want to.”
Riya’s voice broke. “I do. I want you. I want this marriage.
I want us.”
Kabir stepped closer, lifting her chin gently with his
fingers.
“Then we start again,” he said. “From tomorrow. No secrets.
No Arjun. No past. Just us.”
She nodded, sobbing into his chest as he wrapped his arms
around her — not tightly, not possessively, but with a quiet, steady warmth
that felt like forgiveness.
Below them, the valley wind howled through the darkness,
carrying away the last traces of the girl she used to be.
And in the soft glow of the balcony lights, Riya held onto
her husband — not out of fear, not out of duty, but out of something real.
Something she finally understood.
✒️ Author’s Note Thank you for reading 💛 If this story moved you, surprised you, or kept you turning the pages, please like, share, comment, and follow — your support helps me keep creating more stories for you. ✨ Images in this post were created using AI tools.
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