"You look better,” she says, giving me a once-over. "The driver’s waiting. Go."
Before I can leave, she grabs my arm—tight, harsh, like she always does when she wants something and to make a point. The grip stings, her fingers digging into my flesh. It’ll probably leave a bruise.
“You better behave, Shivani. Don’t mess this up. For your sake.” Her voice dangerously low, threatening me, and I nod. She lets go the next instant, but not without one last warning glare.
I walk out, flexing my arm as I try to soothe the pain. The car is already waiting, so I quickly jog to the car and slide into the back seat. Something I don't really do.
Madhav Uncle, our driver, has always been more like a father to me than my real father. Since childhood, he’s known how my day was, my likes, my dislikes, and my dreams—more than my parents ever bothered to. I usually sit up front with him, but today... My mother is still watching me from the terrace. So, I follow the rulebook.
Backseat. Obedient daughter.
"Are you nervous?" Madhav Uncle asks as he pulls the car into gear.
"More than nervous," I admit, biting my nails. I hate the habit. But I can’t stop. I’ve tried. Nervousness gets the worst out of me.
“It’s going to be okay,” he assures, glancing at me through the rearview mirror.
“If you don’t like him, just let me know and I’ll help you run away from the marriage. Don’t stress.” He suggests I give him a small smile.
"You know I’d never put you at risk, Uncle."
He looks ahead with a small nod and says firmly, “I want you to be happy and safe, beta. I’ll do anything for that.” Tears sting in the corners of my eyes, but I blink them away.
He’s the only one who’s ever made me feel protected, so I will never do something to put him in the line of fire.
The car screeches to a stop, and a thundering realization settles on my shoulders.
We’ve arrived.
I take a deep breath and glance at Uncle one last time.
You’ve got this, Shivani. He’s not going to kill you. It’s just a conversation. He won't kill you. He won't mock you. It’s just a conversation with a man. I try to pacify my heart, but the dread doesn't stop from freezing my spine.
Slowly, I step out of the car, heart pounding in my ears. I will survive this. I have to. I have survived worse; I can survive this, this too.
03
RUDRAKSH
I sit at the corner table of the hotel lounge, my laptop open, but the spreadsheet on the screen is nothing but a blur. My eyes flick to the time on my watch again.
Five minutes late.
Shivani is five minutes late. For most it's nothing, but for me it's a crack in a clockwork. I hate delays. I hate waiting.
But I wait—for her.
This meeting better be worth it.
Ma told me not to screw this up. ‘She’s going to be your wife, Rudraksh. Don’t treat her like you treat your clients. She’s not a merger deal.’ That's what she said; that's what I am attempting.
Right. Be nice. Be human. Try.
Just as I debate calling the reception to ask if she’s even entered the premises, I catch a glimpse of black fabric moving through the entrance. And then I see her.
Shivani.
And for a second, I forget every bit of annoyance bubbling in me. Calm, that's what follows her.
