I sit in the guest room, surrounded by the smell of roses and the rustle of silk. The scent of incense clings to my veil. Maa whirls around like a warm, determined tornado, making sure everything is perfect. Aditi and Chachi keep popping in with bangles and bindis, gushing about how beautiful I look, and honestly, I barely recognize myself. Mother is here too, but quiet. For once. Maybe because she knows she doesn't get to control anythingtoday.
The silk of my lehenga scratches against my thighs as I shift nervously. The khandani jewelry Maa gave me feels heavy on my neck, but in a good way, like it’s grounding me. Reminding me that I’m finally stepping out of the nightmare and into something new—something I hope will be kind. I’venever worn anything like this before. The necklace hugs my neck delicately, and the maang tikka rests on my forehead like a crown. I look like a bride. I am a bride.
A soft knock on the door pulls me from my thoughts, but it’s one of the Malhotra staff members, holding out a glass of juice for me. I smile politely, but my stomach is in knots. It isn’t nerves about the wedding. It’s what happened last night.
I shiver. I should be happy today. I want to be happy.
But last night…
Last night felt like my last trip to hell. As soon as we reached home—my so-called home—I was shoved into my room. Mother followed, launching into one of her poison-wrapped-in-sugar lectures.
“You’re not supposed to talk about anything your father did to you,” she said, sitting on the edge of my bed, adjusting her saree. “He’s not a bad man, Shivani. He just has… anger issues. Would you have preferred that I be the one taking the beatings? I’ve done so much for you, and he loves you in his own way.”
Right.
That wasn’t love.
And I didn't respond. I didn’t nod. Didn’t speak. I just stared at the floor, hoping it would open up and swallow me whole.
Then… he came in. My father. He didn’t yell. He never does when he’s truly dangerous. He just walked up to me, grabbed my hair so hard my scalp still aches, and said right into my face, “You like that bastard, don’t you? I knew you’d be the kind to whore around. Don’t make me angry, Shivani. If I heareven a whisper about your time in this house, I will kill that man in front of you.”
Then he shoved me to the floor. And I stayed there. Curled up. Silent tears soaking into the rug.
I inhale sharply, forcing that memory out. Today isn’t about them. It’s about me. About moving forward.
I’m not going back there. I’m not going to be that scared little girl again. I’m standing up today as Rudraksh’s wife. I’m stepping into a new family—a better one.
I haven't known Rudraksh for long. He's said to be cold and distant— but I've never seen that side of him. He already sees me as his family, and I know he would do anything to protect his family, to make them happy. He is a family man. And I am glad. He may never love me, but unknowingly, he has given me so much—his family, people who care for me, who would not want to hurt me or use me, and I will always be grateful for that. I will make sure he never regrets marrying me.
I glance at my reflection again, and this time, I smile.
I can do this. I can leave the pain behind and walk into something better. I don’t love himnow—but I will respect him. I will cherish him. He deserves at least that.
And when the music starts playing from the hall downstairs, my breath hitches.
Mangeyan Tere Toh Rabba,
Rabba Mainu Tu Mileya…
It's time.
The girl who curled up on the floor is still inside me—but today, she’s standing tall in silk and gold, ready to walk out of the shadows.
13
RUDRAKSH
Mangeyan Tere Toh Rabba,
Rabba Mainu Tu Mileya…
The song starts playing, and I turn my head instinctively toward the entrance. And then she walks in.
Everything else—the noise, the whispers, the lights—it all fades. She is the only one who got my attention. She’s walking down the aisle with her small steps, and for a moment, I forget to breathe. Her hair flows softly with the wind, catching the light as if the universe is trying to spotlight her. The sunlight streams in from the windows and hits her face just right, casting a golden shimmer across her brown eyes.
Her red and gold bridal lehenga looks like something out of an old, forgotten dream suddenly turning real. She walks slowly, almost as if floating, and every single person in this room is watching her—but I swear, she’s only looking at me.
She smiles softly. Shy. A little hesitant. But it reaches her eyes.
