Arvi's pov:

The mirror in front of me reflected someone I barely recognized.

Red. Everything was red. The lehenga shimmered under the soft lights, intricate gold embroidery catching every flicker like sparks. I smoothed my trembling hands over the fabric for the hundredth time, trying to calm the chaos inside me. My breath hitched, and I quickly looked away from my reflection, afraid the tears brimming in my eyes might spill if I stared too long.





Her attire.

"Arvi, you look... breathtaking," Aleesha whispered from behind, her voice softer than usual.

Arekha stood beside her, adjusting one of my bangles. "Honestly, I've never seen anyone pull off red like this."

Vanisha grinned, fixing my dupatta on my head carefully. "Bhai is going to be stunned."

I gave them a small smile, but it didn't quite reach my eyes. They meant well. They were trying. Even Nia, sitting beside me with a tissue in hand, kept dabbing under my eyes like a mother hen.

"You're going to mess up your makeup, babe," she said gently, but I could see the concern in her eyes. "Breathe. We're all here, okay?"

I nodded, but my throat burned. My chest felt tight, and the room though full of warmth and soft chatter felt painfully empty.

I missed them.

God, I missed them so much.

"Mumma would've cried seeing me like this," I whispered, voice breaking. "And Papa... he'd be standing outside pretending he's not emotional, but I know he'd sneak a tissue when no one was looking."

And just like that, the dam burst. A sob clawed its way out of me, and I buried my face into my hands, careful not to ruin the intricate work done on my face. Nia wrapped her arms around me instantly. Vanisha joined in, then Aleesha, and even Arekha awkwardly patted my back.

"I shouldn't be doing this now," I hiccupped between tears, "but it just... hurts."

"You're allowed to feel it," Nia whispered. "You're allowed to cry."

I wasn't alone. But a part of my heart was somewhere else, with two people who should've been here.

And tonight no matter how dazzling the lights, or how grand the celebration I would carry that ache with me, hidden beneath the red and gold.

Just like the silent prayer I sent to the stars above:

Please, give me strength.

Just as I wiped the last of my tears, trying to steady my breath, the door creaked open. I looked up, eyes still glassy, to see Sulekha aunty and Jaya aunty walking in, both dressed in elegant sarees that matched the grandeur of the evening.

For a moment, they both just stood there, staring at me.

Then Sulekha aunty's eyes welled up, and she walked straight to me. "Arvi..." she whispered, her voice thick with emotion, "you look absolutely beautiful, beta."

Jaya aunty nodded, her own eyes soft. "Like a bride from a dream."

Before I could respond, they both came forward and wrapped me in a warm, tight hug. The kind of hug that holds pieces of your broken heart together, even if just for a while.

Sulekha aunty gently pulled back, cupping my cheeks. "You're not alone, okay? We're here. I'm here."

I nodded, my throat too tight to say anything.

Then she smiled, her eyes twinkling as she dipped her thumb in kajal and placed a small black dot behind my ear. "Kali teeka... so no one casts nazar on my beautiful daughter."

Jaya aunty chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair away from my face. "Now don't cry again, Arvi. You'll make all of us cry."

I gave them a shaky laugh, feeling a strange mix of comfort and ache. My heart still missed my parents unbearably but in this moment, I felt held. Cared for. Loved.

Maybe not everything was how I had imagined... but maybe, just maybe, it was going to be okay.

The music outside had shifted louder, more regal. Someone peeked into the room and whispered, "It's time."

My heart slammed against my ribcage.

Nia squeezed my hand. "You've got this."

Vanisha handed me the bouquet of crimson and ivory roses. Aleesha fluffed the dupatta one last time, while Arekha checked every pin like her life depended on it. Sulekha aunty kissed my forehead, and Jaya aunty whispered a blessing under her breath.

And then... I walked.

Step by step, my lehenga trailing behind me like a river of fire and gold, the corridor buzzing with hushed excitement. Every beat of the dhol felt like it echoed inside my chest. My fingers trembled against the cold metal of my bangles.

And then... I saw him.

Rayaan.

Standing tall near the mandap, draped in cream and deep maroon, regal as ever. He looked every bit the man I once feared, then fought, then... found myself drawn to. His eyes met mine the second I stepped closer, and for a second it was just us. Everything else blurred. The music, the people, the lights all melted away.

He didn't blink. Didn't move. Just stared.

And then... very subtly, his jaw unclenched, and I noticed the way his eyes softened.

My breath caught as I stopped in front of him, the heavy veil slightly slipping from my head with the weight of the moment.

Then, slowly, without a word... he extended his hand toward me.

My heart skipped.

No words. No grand gestures. Just his hand.

And somehow that quiet act shook me more than anything else.

Fingers trembling, I placed my hand in his. His grip was firm, steady... grounding.

I didn't look up at him right away. I was afraid if I did, he'd see the storm still hiding in my eyes. The pain of missing my parents. The ache sitting heavy beneath all the gold and red.

But when I finally glanced at him just for a second I found him already looking at me.

Not with softness.

Not with affection.

But with something else entirely.

A quiet promise.

Unspoken, but undeniable.

And in that silence, hand in hand with the man who had once been nothing more than a storm in my life I took my first step forward.

Toward whatever this was going to be.

Rayaan's pov:

The mirror showed me what everyone else probably saw calm, composed, perfectly put together in my cream sherwani lined with deep maroon. Not a single fold out of place, not a single emotion on my face.

Typical.



His attire

Riaan whistled beside me. "Dude, you look like a royal. No kidding."

Vivaan added, "More like a mafia groom straight out of a movie. Women are going to faint."

I smirked, adjusting my cufflinks. "Then good thing I'm already taken."

Riaan elbowed me. "Didn't think you'd go through with it, honestly. Arvi really shook your world, huh?"

I didn't answer. Because the truth was, I didn't have an answer. Not one I was ready to say out loud.

Then the music shifted. Louder. More intense. The kind of beat that signaled something was about to change.

And when I turned my head toward the entrance she was there.

Arvi.

Draped in red. The kind of red that didn't just catch the eye it held it captive.

Time stilled.

My breath stilled.

The sound around me dulled.

Something clenched in my chest tight and unfamiliar. Not the usual fire I felt when she laughs with riaan and vivaan, not the irritation she used to spark when we first met. This was... something else.

She looked beautiful,yes. But more than that, she looked fragile. Like she was carrying something heavy, something invisible to everyone but still weighing her down.

And yet, she kept walking. Step by step. Toward me.

I didn't know when my hand moved, but I raised it quiet, steady and offered it to her.

She looked at it for a moment, then at me.

And when her hand slipped into mine, small and cold and trembling I felt it again.

That strange pull in my chest.

Like something had shifted.

Like something had started.

The wedding fire still burned in my mind sacred, roaring, final.

People cheered, clapped, threw petals like confetti. But I wasn't really hearing them. All I could hear was the sound of her bangles faintly clinking as we walked side by side, our hands still loosely bound by that red thread.

It was done.

She was mine. Not in the poetic, dramatic sense.

In the real way. The legal, spiritual, lifelong way.

Arvi.

My wife

I opened the car door for her without a word. She hesitated just for a heartbeat, then gracefully gathered her lehenga and stepped in. I followed, sliding into the driver's seat, and the door closed behind me with a soft thud that felt strangely final.

The silence inside the car was sharp. Tangible.

She sat there rigid, her eyes fixed on the window, watching the blur of lights. Her dupatta was half-slipped off her head, and her lipstick had faded just a little at the corners. She looked... exhausted. Fragile. Quiet in a way I'd never seen her before.

And I didn't say a word.

What do you say to someone who once wanted nothing to do with your world... and now belonged to it completely?

I glanced at her just once. Her fingers were knotted tightly in her lap, like she was holding herself together.

I wondered if she was thinking of her parents.

I wondered if she regretted this.

The road stretched on, smooth and silent. The car felt too big, too quiet, too heavy with everything unspoken between us.

When the Oberoi Mansion finally came into view lit up, grand, and ready to celebrate I felt her body stiffen slightly beside me.

Home.

For me, it was familiar ground.

For her, it was new starting

I didn't reach for her hand. Didn't offer words of comfort.

But somewhere deep in my chest, a thought formed quiet and certain:

Whatever this is... wherever it's going... she's not walking it alone anymore.

Even if she didn't know that yet.

Not tonight.

But someday.

Arvi's pov:

The moment we stepped inside the Oberoi Mansion, everything felt surreal.

The air smelled of roses and sandalwood, diyas flickered against the walls, and the sound of shankh echoed faintly in the background. I tightened my hold on the edge of my dupatta, my heart thudding like it hadn't stopped since the wedding.

And then chaos.

"Aree wahhh! Look at our dulhan!" Aleesha squealed, practically bouncing over in her lehenga.

"Welcome again, Arvi," Arekha added with a wink, looping her arm through mine.

Sulekha aunty reached me first, her eyes filled with something too tender for words. She cupped my face, kissed my forehead, and smiled like I was hers. "Welcome home, beta."

Vanisha was next, handing me a tiny silver tray with rose petals, then promptly hugging me so tightly I nearly lost balance.

"Arvi!" Vivaan grinned from the staircase. "Hope you're ready to survive this mad house."

Behind them, Jaya aunty and Shankar uncle smiled warmly, standing beside Mukesh uncle. The air was thick with joy, teasing, and a kind of affectionate drama only big families carry.

I looked at Rayaan.

Still unreadable. Still quiet.

Until Sulekha aunty clapped her hands and said, "Now that our dulha-dulhan are home, let's get to the real ritual."

I blinked.

Vanisha pulled out a large silver bowl filled with milk and rose petals.

Aleesha smirked. "Time to find the ring!"

I turned to Rayaan. He raised an eyebrow. "No."

Straight. Stern. Cold.

"Rayaan!" Sulekha aunty scolded with a mock glare. "It's tradition."

"I don't do games," he said.

"Oh, come on, bhai," Arekha grinned, tugging at his arm. "One game won't hurt your image, Mr. CEO."

Vivaan added, "We'll make two teams. Bride's side versus groom's side. Loser has to accept the winner as the official boss of the marriage."

My eyes widened.

Before I could even protest, hands were dragging me to one side, Rayaan to the other. Rose petals flew, laughter rang, and someone slipped a ring into the bowl.

And then go.

I dipped my hands in first, trying to feel around through the chill. Rayaan followed, his fingers brushing mine once, and I jerked back slightly, heart skipping.

We kept searching.

Back and forth. Ice cold milk. Petals everywhere. People cheering.

"Come on, Arvi!"

"Rayaan, don't lose to your wife on day one!"

Then-

My fingers curled around something small, metallic, and smooth.

I pulled it up, victorious.

The room erupted in cheers.

"Yes!! Arvi wins!!" Vanisha shouted.

Aleesha whooped. "That means she'll rule the marriage!"

Everyone laughed and teased, even Jaya aunty shaking her head fondly at Rayaan. He looked at the ring in my hand, then at me.

For a split second... just the tiniest flicker.

Amusement in his eyes.

And then gone. Back to the blank stare.

But I caught it.

And maybe, just maybe, he let me.

I smiled quietly to myself, wiping my hands on a towel someone handed me.

If this was day one of married life...

I'd say I was off to a pretty good start.

The laughter from the ring game still echoed faintly down the halls, but everything inside me had turned quiet again.

The rituals were done. The teasing had slowed. The night slipping deeper into silence.

And then Sulekha aunty gently touched my shoulder. "Aleesha, Arekha take Arvi to Rayaan's room."

My breath hitched.

I had lived in the Oberoi Mansion for weeks now. I knew every corner of it, every hallway, every chandelier's shadow. But this... this was different.

This wasn't the guest room Sulekha aunty had given me when I first came here.

This was his room.

Our room now.

Aleesha beamed. "Come on, dulhan. Time to officially upgrade from guest to queen."

Arekha looped her arm through mine, teasing, "Just don't faint if you see all the greys and blacks. His wardrobe looks like it's in mourning."

I let out a nervous laugh. But my hands were cold. My steps slower than usual.

We climbed the stairs-each one heavier than the last and stopped in front of a tall wooden door with golden handles. His door.

I had walked past it a hundred times.

Never once crossed the threshold.

Aleesha opened it with an exaggerated gasp. "Uff, still smells like ego and money in here."

Arekha giggled. "Let's see how long before it starts smelling like rose water and Arvi."

I smiled, just barely.

The room was spacious, modern, masculine exactly what I'd imagined. Dark wood, rich textures, everything sharp and organized. A large window overlooked the city skyline, and the bed... well, it suddenly felt like the elephant in the room.

Aleesha set my small bridal bag near the couch. Arekha smoothed out the edge of my dupatta and gave me a look filled with mischief and something a little like sisterhood.

"You'll be fine," she said softly, squeezing my hand.

They left with a teasing wink and shut the door behind them.

And just like that

Silence.

It was just me.

In his room.

Our room.

I stood there for a moment, still, eyes slowly roaming over his space the way his cologne lingered faintly in the air, the way every object had a place, the way nothing in here belonged to me... not yet.

And then, I heard the soft sound of the door behind me.

He was here.

Rayaan.

And everything inside me stilled.

The soft click of the door behind me made my heart stop.

I didn't turn immediately. I couldn't.

I heard his footsteps calm, steady, unbothered walking into the room that now belonged to both of us.

To us.

I turned slowly, gathering whatever courage I had left, only to find him standing by the bed, unbuttoning the cuffs of his sherwani like it was just another night.

He didn't look at me when he spoke.

"I hope you're clear about something, Arvi."

My fingers gripped the edge of my dupatta.

He finally looked up, his eyes sharp and empty. "This marriage wasn't my choice."

I couldn't breathe.

He went on, voice calm almost cold. "My mother wanted it. Or maybe... I agreed out of guilt. Maybe it was easier than saying no after everything that happened."

The walls around me trembled.

"But don't mistake this for something it's not," he said, each word like glass under my skin. "We might be married in front of the world but in here inside these walls we're just two strangers."

"Dont expect anything from me" UNDERSTAND? He said in his clipped voice.

I nodded.

That was it.

No rage. No dramatic outburst. Just quiet, brutal honesty.

And suddenly everything fell.

My breath. My heartbeat. My entire world.

I felt like the ground had slipped from beneath me. My fingers trembled as I clutched my lehenga, like holding onto something could stop me from breaking entirely.

He didn't love me.

Of course he didn't.

Maybe he even hated me. Maybe every look he gave me since the day we met had been filled with resentment.

But then why...?

Why had I said yes?

Why hadn't I thought before agreeing?

Why had some stupid, foolish part of me so hidden and soft started falling for a man who never even intended to catch me?

I looked at him, standing so effortlessly distant, and I wondered if he'd ever see me as more than a mistake wrapped in red silk.

I turned away, afraid he might see my tears.

Or worse... not care at all.