Arvi's pov:

The cold seeped into my skin as I slowly woke up, disoriented, still lying on the hard marble floor. My head throbbed, and every inch of my body ached not just physically, but in a way that went deeper, far beneath the surface. My wedding lehenga clung to me like a weight I couldn't shed, its once-beautiful fabric now wrinkled and dull under the dim lights.

I sat up, my fingers instinctively brushing over the messy strands of hair falling across my face. And then his voice echoed in my mind sharp, distant, but unforgettable.

"I married you because of my mother. In front of my family, we're a couple. In this room... we're mere strangers."

Strangers.

The word sliced through me like a knife.

A shudder escaped my lips as my throat tightened. My hands trembled, and I reached up to touch the sindoor still smeared in the parting of my hair. My chest ached not because he had said those words... but because I loved him. Foolishly. Completely.

I'd stood beside him, not because I was forced to, but because my heart had chosen him. And all he saw in me was a compromise. A duty. An unwanted shadow standing next to him only for the sake of appearances.

Tears blurred my vision, spilling silently down my cheeks as I let out a choked sob. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to hold myself together as I sank back to the floor. The silence in the room felt louder than his words and far crueler.

"I'm not a stranger," I whispered to the emptiness. "Not to you... not to myself."

But in his eyes, I was nothing. Nothing but a girl forced into a marriage he never wanted.

And still, I loved him.

That was the tragedy I couldn't escape.

I slowly got up from the floor, wiping my tears. My body felt heavy, but I knew I couldn't sit there any longer.

Without saying a word, I walked into his bathroom and washed my face, trying to steady my breath. Then I changed out of the wedding dress and slipped into a lavender saree. It was soft, light and exactly what I needed to feel like myself again.



Her saree

I didn't bother with much makeup. Just tied my hair neatly and stepped out of the room.

And then, quietly, I walked downstairs heart still aching, but head held high.

As I walked downstairs, my heart beat a little faster. I didn't know how to face anyone but the moment they saw me, all my worries paused for a second.

Sulekha aunty came forward first, wrapping me in a warm hug. "You look so beautiful, beta," she whispered, and I nodded, forcing a soft smile. One by one, the rest of the family gathered around, pulling me into gentle embraces. It felt nice... safe, for a moment.

And then came the teasing.

"Oho, bhabhi's glowing already!" Aleesha smirked.

"Hope Rayaan bhai let you sleep last night," Vivaan added with a wink.

I felt my cheeks flush as they all laughed around me, their voices light and playful. I didn't know where to look.

But then I felt it the sudden silence that fell across the room like a wave.

Rayaan had come downstairs.

His eyes scanned the group, and the moment they landed on me, his expression didn't change but his gaze shifted sharply to his cousins. Just one glare. That was all it took.

The teasing died instantly. No one said another word. They all awkwardly looked away, mumbling excuses to leave.

Rayaan didn't say anything to me. Didn't spare me a glance after that.

But somehow... that one glare, that silent shut-down it meant something.

Even if he claimed we were strangers in this room... a part of him still saw me.

Once things settled a little, I quietly turned to Sulekha aunty

"Can I make something sweet?" I asked gently. "It's... tradition, right? The new bride makes something."

She smiled warmly and placed her hand on my cheek. "Of course, beta. But first no more 'aunty'. From today, call me Maa."

My heart skipped a beat.

"Maa," I repeated softly, and for a second, her smile grew even wider.

Then Jaya aunty stepped in with a playful tone, "And I'm your Choti Maa now, okay? No more formalities."

I nodded, a lump forming in my throat.

Even in the middle of so much confusion, their warmth wrapped around me like a quiet hug. And for the first time since waking up... I felt like I belonged.

Just as I was about to step toward the kitchen, Mukesh uncle came forward with a soft, fatherly smile.

"And me?" he said, raising his eyebrows playfully. "You'll call me Papa now."

Before I could respond, Shankar uncle joined in with a chuckle. "And I'm your Bade Papa don't forget that, okay?"

I looked at both of them, a little overwhelmed by the warmth surrounding me. My lips trembled, but I managed a small smile. "Papa... Bade Papa," I whispered.

It felt new. Strange. But also... comforting.

I didn't know what my place was in Rayaan's world but in this moment, their kindness made me feel like maybe, just maybe... I had a place in this family.

Rayaan's pov:

I got ready and came downstairs all family members where there so was her. Arvi. Talking with my cousins they were teasing her about last night, I shifted my gaze towards them and they stopped.

The dining table buzzed with the usual morning chatter plates clinking, cousins laughing over something stupid, and choti ma fussing over who wanted what.

I sat there, mostly quiet, picking at my food without really tasting it. I wasn't in the mood to talk. Not today.

And then I saw her again.

Arvi.

She walked in, holding a small tray with a bowl of halwa. Draped in a lavender saree, her eyes lowered, her steps careful she looked... different. Calm. Collected. Like nothing from last night had touched her.

But I knew it had.

"This is Arvi's pehli rasoi," Mom announced proudly. "She made halwa for everyone."

Everyone turned, the mood instantly warmer. Smiles. Compliments. Vivaan even whistled under his breath. "Wah bhabhi, this smells amazing!"

Aleesha nodded eagerly. "It actually does. I'm impressed."

I didn't say a word. I couldn't. I kept my eyes on my plate.

Then Mom nudged me gently. "Ray, at least take one bite."

I looked up at her, and for a second, I saw the hope in her eyes the quiet pleading. I sighed.

Without a word, I picked up my spoon and took a small bite. Just one.

It was... good. Really good, actually. Soft, warm, sweet just like something I'd grown up eating.

Everyone kept praising her, talking over each other, asking her how she made it, what else she knew, if she cooked often.

I glanced at her again.

She stood there quietly, offering smiles and nods, but her eyes flicked to me for the briefest second. She wasn't looking for praise.

She was looking for me.

And I looked away.

Arvi's pov:

The fabric clung to my skin, and I had been shifting uncomfortably ever since breakfast. The lavender saree beautiful as it was had started to itch. My skin felt hot, irritated, and a strange rash was beginning to form along my arm.

I walked upstairs quickly, trying not to draw attention. My arm burned.

As I entered the room, I exhaled in relief, unpinning the pallu from my shoulder. I didn't notice he was inside not until I turned and saw him by the mirror, adjusting his watch.

Rayaan.

He looked up sharply, eyes narrowing noticing the way I was scratching at my arm. And then he saw it.

The red, raised rash that had bloomed across the inside of my elbow.

He stepped toward me, voice hard and sharp. "What the hell is this?"

I froze, startled by his sudden nearness and tone. "It's... it's nothing," I said quietly, stepping back a little.

He didn't let it go.

He grabbed my wrist not rough, but firm and lifted my arm to look closer. His brows furrowed. "This doesn't look like nothing, Arvi."

I looked away, voice barely above a whisper. "I'm... allergic. To silk fiber. I didn't know the saree had pure silk threads. It only starts itching after a while."

His grip loosened, but his eyes stayed locked on the rash, something flickering in them anger... maybe concern?

"You should've told someone," he said, softer now but still commanding.

"I didn't want to make a fuss," I murmured, slowly pulling my arm back.

I turned slightly, reaching for the wardrobe when his voice came again low, firm, impossible to ignore.

"Change. We're going to the doctor."

I blinked, startled. "No need, It's not that serious-"

"I said change, Arvi."

There was no room for argument in his tone. His jaw was clenched, his brows drawn together not out of anger, but something deeper... something like frustration laced with concern.

I swallowed hard. "I've had this before. It fades by evening..."

"I don't care," he snapped, then exhaled. When he spoke again, his voice had softened, but not his command. "You live in this house now. If something's wrong, you speak up. You don't just suffer in silence."

I looked at him, stunned.

He wasn't being sweet. He wasn't holding my hand or asking gently.

But he noticed. He cared in his own strange, distant, dominant way.

I nodded slowly, my voice barely a whisper. "Okay... I'll change."

As I turned to pick out a cotton kurta, I could still feel his presence behind me. Strong. Still. Watching.

Rayaan's pov:

The engine hummed low beneath us as I pulled out of the driveway, stealing a quick glance at her from the corner of my eye.

Arvi sat quietly, hands folded in her lap, dressed in a soft cotton kurta now. No silk. No glitter. Just simplicity. Her hair fell in loose waves over her shoulder, and her eyes stayed fixed outside the window, like the world beyond held all the answers she wasn't asking me for.

But I saw the way her fingers grazed her arm every now and then.

Still itching.

I clenched the steering wheel a little tighter.

Why the hell didn't she say anything earlier?

"Do you always ignore it when your body reacts like that?" I asked, not able to stop myself.

She flinched slightly, then shook her head. "It happens sometimes. I manage."

Manage.

That word pissed me off more than it should've.

"You shouldn't have to manage," I muttered. "There's a reason doctors exist."

She didn't respond.

The silence stretched again awkward, uncomfortable. Thick.

But still... not cold.

Something about sitting next to her like this, away from the mansion, from the noise, from the family... made her feel closer. Not like a stranger I was forced to marry. But someone I was slowly beginning to notice.

When we pulled up to the clinic, I parked and turned off the ignition.

"You coming?" I asked, looking at her.

She gave a small nod and opened the door.

I didn't say it out loud, but something inside me already knew

This wasn't just about a skin rash.

It was the first time she let me see her weakness.

And the first time I actually wanted to protect it.

Arvi's pov:

The moment we stepped into the clinic, I could feel eyes on us. Not because of me, obviously. Rayaan Oberoi wasn't exactly the type to go unnoticed. Even in a plain black shirt and jeans, he carried himself like he owned the building. Maybe he did. I wouldn't be surprised.

The receptionist blinked like she'd seen a celebrity. "M-Mr. Oberoi," she stammered, standing up a little too straight. "You don't need to wait. Doctor Sharma will see you immediately."

Of course. No forms, no delays. That was what the Oberoi name did.

I followed him wordlessly down the corridor, trying not to scratch at the rash burning on my neck. It was spreading now, angry and red, and I hated how it made me feel visible. Weak.

Inside, the doctor looked up from her desk, her professional mask slipping for just a second.

"Oh," she said, standing. "Mr. Oberoi. I didn't expect-"

"I'm not here for me," Rayaan said flatly, tilting his head toward me. "She needs to be seen."

The doctor's eyes landed on me, mildly surprised, then she gestured for me to sit. "Of course. Come in, please."

I perched on the edge of the examination bed as she pulled on gloves and leaned closer. "How long have you had the rash?"

"Since morning," I said. "Started around the neckline. I wore a new silk saree"

The doctor said,"It's a classic textile allergy. Silk, in this case. You'll need to avoid it stick to soft cottons and natural fabrics. It's nothing serious, just uncomfortable."

Just uncomfortable. Right. Like sitting in a room with Rayaan Oberoi breathing down my neck wasn't the definition of uncomfortable.

She handed me a prescription, and I got up quickly, desperate to leave. As we stepped out, I finally whispered, "Thankyou"

He didn't look at me

He didn't reply.

This hurtss so much!!

But as we walked down the hall, a nurse passed us, giggling with another. "That's him, na? Rayaan Oberoi?"

I saw him glance sideways. Just for a second. Then he turned to me, voice low.

"Next time, speak up. I'm not a mind reader."

I nodded, eyes lowered. My fear wasn't loud but it was there. Lingering in my chest like smoke, even when his words came out quiet... almost careful.

Almost.

Rayaan's pov:

The city outside my office window buzzed like it always did cars moving like ants, lights flickering against glass. I should've been reviewing the project proposal on my desk, but my mind had stayed back at the clinic.

Her voice. Quiet. Hesitant. Scared.

And not just of the rash of me.

I leaned back in my chair, jaw tightening. I wasn't proud of how easily she shrank around me. I didn't want her afraid of me.

But somehow... I kept giving her reasons to be.

Before I could spiral further, the door slammed open. No knock. No warning. Just full chaos.

"Brooo!" Riaan's voice tore through the calm like a grenade. "You didn't call. You didn't text. First night with mystery girl in the mansion and you're radio silent?"

I didn't look up. "Get out."

"Aw, come on," he said, flopping dramatically onto the couch. "

"You seriously suck. First night with Arvi in the mansion and not even a text? No update? What kind of best friend are you?"

I didn't respond. I just looked at him.

Unbothered, he threw himself onto my office couch. "So? How was it? Did she settle in? I swear, she looked like a little deer when I saw her in the hallway yesterday."

I narrowed my eyes. "Careful."

Riaan blinked. "What?"

"You're not talking about just anyone."

He raised a brow, sitting up slightly. "Woah. I wasn't being disrespectful. I like her, man. She's different. Quiet. Stronger than she looks, I can tell. That girl's got something in her."

I exhaled slowly, jaw unclenching.

"She's under my roof. Which means she's under my protection."

Riaan nodded, more serious now. "And I respect that. I respect her. I wasn't trying to make fun. Just wanted to know if she's okay. That's all."

For a second, I didn't say anything. Then finally, I leaned back in my chair.

"She's not okay. Not really. She's scared."

Pause.

"Of me."

Riaan didn't laugh. Didn't joke. He just looked at me for a long second.

"Then maybe don't be the version of you she's afraid of."

I stared at him, but this time, I didn't snap.

Because maybe just maybe he had a point.

Arvi's pov:

The garden in the Oberoi mansion was the only place that didn't make me feel like I was constantly being watched. It was quiet, green, and untouched by judgment.

Arekha sat beside me on the bench, twirling a blade of grass between her fingers. She had that effortless calm about her always dressed simple, always smiling like the world hadn't ever bruised her.

"Arvi," she said, stretching her legs out in front of her, "you always sit here like you're waiting for someone who never shows up."

I smiled faintly. "Maybe I am."

She gave me a look. "You're poetic when you're sad. It's kind of annoying."

That made me laugh under my breath. "Sorry."

A beat passed. Then she asked, "What did you study before all this?"

I hesitated. "Hotel management, and some work experience in Oberio industries Just for a while."

"Hm, but what about college?"

"My job. Rent. Life," I said softly.

Arekha frowned. "You're really smart, Arvi. I can tell. You should go back. College, I mean."

I looked at her, startled. "What?"

"Why not? You're young. You've got time. And now that you're here..." she glanced toward the mansion, "you don't have to worry about bills or food or running around to survive."

I shook my head. "It's not that simple."

"Maybe not. But it's not impossible either."

I stared at the flowers ahead of us. Bright yellow marigolds, blooming like they had something to prove.

"I don't even know where I'd begin," I murmured.

"You begin by believing you can," she said gently. "And if you need help... I'll come with you. We'll figure it out."

My throat tightened, just a little. No one had said something like that to me in a long, long time.

"Thanks," I whispered. "I don't know if I deserve that. But... thank you."

Arekha bumped her shoulder against mine. "You deserve a lot more than you think."

I smiled.

.

.

.

I didn't know Arekha had told her.

I was just passing through the living room, heading toward the kitchen for a glass of water, when I heard my name.

"She really should go back, Badi Ma. She's smart. You should've seen her when she was talking about her old college her eyes lit up. Like she forgot everything else for a second."

I froze mid-step, barely breathing. My fingers tightened around the hem of my kurti. Were they really talking about me?

Then I heard maa's voice. Firm. Warm. Certain.

"Then she will go back."

A pause. Then-

"Tell her she has my full support. If she needs books, a tutor, anything she'll have it. I'll speak to the principal myself if needed. A girl like her shouldn't let life interrupt her dreams."

I stepped back before they could see me, heart pounding.

Nobody had ever said something like that about me. Not since... ever.

That kind of belief? That kind of backing? It wasn't just rare. It was foreign. I didn't know what to do with it.

Later that evening, Arekha found me on the stairs, hugging a cup of chai like it might anchor me.

"Hey," she said, plopping down beside me. "Badi Ma said yes."

"I know," I whispered, still stunned.

"She meant it, Arvi."

I blinked rapidly, looking away. "Why are you all being so kind to me?"

Arekha smiled. "Maybe because you deserve it. And maybe because we want you to believe it too."

I smiled not fake one but real one.

.

.

The lights were dimmed, the bed untouched on my side. I sat cross-legged near the window in our room, the soft hum of the AC the only sound breaking the silence.

He was late. Again.

But I waited. Not out of obligation. Out of need. I couldn't start something as big as this without telling him. Even if I was scared of how he'd react.

The door clicked open past midnight.

I turned my head slowly as Rayaan stepped inside, shoulders tense, hair slightly disheveled like he'd run a hand through it too many times. He shut the door behind him without a word, eyes briefly scanning the room then landing on me.

"You're still awake," he said.

I stood up quickly. "I was waiting. For you."

He started unbuttoning his cufflinks, face unreadable. "Why?"

I swallowed. "I needed to tell you something. It's important."

He didn't look up, but the pause in his movements told me he was listening.

"I'm... joining college again," I said, voice trembling despite me trying not to sound so small. "From tomorrow."

That got his attention. He looked at me then direct and hard. Not cruel. But serious. Like he was measuring the weight of every word I said.

"Who gave you that idea?"

"Arekha. But it was something I wanted too. And Ma said it's a good decision. She even offered to help."

The silence stretched. I could feel my pulse in my throat.

He stepped closer, his gaze steady, unreadable. "Why are you telling me?"

I met his eyes, nervous but honest. "Because you're my husband. And I live under your roof. I thought... you should know from me."

Something flickered in his eyes. Something unreadable. Not anger. Not softness either. Something in between.

He turned, loosening the top buttons of his shirt. "Tell the driver. You'll be dropped and picked up. No arguments."

"I can take the metro," I murmured.

He stopped mid-motion, then turned his head slowly toward me.

"I don't care what you can do. You'll do as I say."

My breath caught.

I lowered my eyes. "Okay."

He didn't speak for a moment. Then, unexpectedly softly he said, "Good. You should've gone back sooner."

I looked up, surprised.

He didn't meet my gaze again. Just walked to his wardrobe and said, like it didn't matter, "Don't be late. And don't skip meals."

It wasn't permission.

It wasn't approval.

But in his own way... it was support.

And somehow, that was enough to make my fear quiet down just a little.