𝗔𝘁 𝗡𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁: 𝗖𝗵𝗮𝘂𝗵𝗮𝗻 𝗣𝗮𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗲
I sat at my desk, elbows resting on a pile of open files. The palace was quite expect for the occasional clink of servant's footsteps or the distant chirp of birds settling for the night.
Still I can't focus.
The numbers, the plans, the business expansions - they were all blurring into one meaningless mess. I tried again. Page three of the logistics report. Fourth time reading it. And I still couldn't remember what I'd read.
Her eyes.
The calm gaze from the corner of the room - quite, unassuming. She hadn't speak a word. No makeup, no false charm, but she had this........ softness. The presence.
Why was that look haunting me?
I sighed and pushed my chair back.
"𝘌𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩!" I muttered.
I walked toward the kitchen. The palace was massive, but this late, it was nearly deserted. My footsteps echoed faintly on the cool marble floor. I poured myself a cup of coffee - strong and dark, just the way I liked it.
As I turned to head back to the study, I slowed down. Voice floated in from the hallway near the drawing room. Familiar ones.
My cousins.
I stepped behind a curtain will near the arch and leaned just slightly to listen.
Addu's voice rang out first, sharp as usual, "𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘦𝘺𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘺! 𝘚𝘰 𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘉𝘢𝘥𝘪 𝘔𝘢𝘢 - 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘪𝘵?"
Aarav scoffed in agreement. "𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘤𝘵? 𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘬𝘦. 𝘗𝘢𝘱𝘢 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘋𝘢𝘥𝘢 𝘚𝘢'𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥'𝘴 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘥𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭-𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘧𝘶𝘭. 𝘐 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘻𝘦𝘳𝘰 𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵. 𝘡𝘦𝘳𝘰 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘦."
Addu rolled her eyes. "𝘌𝘹𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘭𝘺. 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘦𝘷𝘢𝘭𝘶𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵. 𝘓𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘸𝘦'𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘻𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘢𝘶𝘭𝘵. 𝘜𝘨𝘩...."
Avir's voice calm but firm, cut through them. "𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘫𝘶𝘥𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺. 𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘰𝘶𝘴. 𝘖𝘳 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘮𝘦𝘥. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘥𝘰𝘮 𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘭𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘺𝘢𝘭 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴."
Aarav snorted. "𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘣𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘺𝘢. 𝘋𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘱𝘭𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘯. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘳𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘊𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘪 𝘔𝘢𝘢 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨."
Addu crossed her arms. "𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘋𝘦𝘭𝘩𝘪 𝘰𝘳 𝘋𝘶𝘣𝘢𝘪. 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘶𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘭. 𝘐'𝘮 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺."
Avir sighed. "𝘖𝘬𝘢𝘺. 𝘍𝘪𝘯𝘦. 𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘶𝘴 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘉𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘺𝘢'𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮. 𝘏𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥. 𝘐𝘧 𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘢𝘭, 𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳."
Addu threw up her hands. "𝘖𝘳 𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘕𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘩 𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘭𝘦'𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘴 𝘋𝘢𝘥𝘢 𝘚𝘢'𝘴 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥! 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬. 𝘌𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘭."
Aarav added, his tone less teasing now. "𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘉𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘺𝘢 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰'𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘩. 𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘴...... 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮. 𝘚𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺. 𝘚𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘵𝘩. 𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦-" He stopped mid sentence.
Addu's voice dropped, suggestive. "𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬, 𝘩𝘮𝘮? 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦? 𝘔𝘦𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵?"
My chest tightened.
They noticed her.
Aarav chuckled. "𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘢 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘥𝘪𝘥. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘏𝘶𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘳𝘰𝘺𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 - 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘧 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘢 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯.
Avir murmured, almost thoughtfully. "𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮..... 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘥. 𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘥. 𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯. 𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵..... 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭."
I stood in the shadows, coffee forgotten in my hand, heart suddenly unsettled.
They were saying what I hadn't dare admit.
I wasn't drawn to Tuli.
I was distracted by someone else.
Someone who hadn't even stopped forward.
Someone who didn't try to impress me.
Someone who quietly stayed back - but whose silence spoke louder than any fake flattery or expensive smile.
Meher.
Even her name settle gently in my mind.
I turned away before I heard any more. Walked back to my study, each step heavier than before. I sat down, placed the mug on the desk, and stared at if for a long time.
This wasn't like me.
I didn't let things district me. I didn't let emotion could judgement.
But then again..... I had never met eyes like her before.
And for the first time in years, I wasn't sure what I supposed to do next.
The scent of the floor cleaner still lingered faintly in the air. Meher wiped her hands on the end of her duptta, glancing around the house she'd just straightened. The cushions were arranged perfectly the floor sparkled, and even the old gramophone on the corner table had been dusted to shine. She let out a small, satisfied sigh and headed toward the drawing room, intending to speaks to Sunita - perhaps to tell her she'd finished all the chores again today. Maybe, just maybe, Sunita would acknowledge her efforts this time.
But as she reached closer, her footsteps slowed. Something didn't feel right. She could her voices. Firm, raised voices.
She stopped at the entrance to the drawing room.
Naresh sat stiffly on the couch, his brows furrowed, while Sunita leaned back with her arm crossed. Tuli sat between them, playing with her phone as if the conversation didn't concern her at all.
And then-
"𝘏𝘪𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴?!"
Tushar's voice thundered through the room, sharp and wounded.
Meher's eyes widened. Her brother, Tushar. He was home.
Her breath caught as she turned and saw him storming into the drawing room with Pritha right behind him, holding little Subhi's hand. The three-year-old blinked up innocently, unaware the storm brewing above him.
Tushar didn't stop.
"𝘛𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦, 𝘔𝘢𝘢. 𝘛𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦, 𝘉𝘢𝘣𝘢, 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦?" He demanded, his voice shaking. "𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘕𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘯 𝘚𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘩 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘩𝘶𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘢𝘥𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘔𝘦𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘈𝘥𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘢𝘫 𝘚𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘩 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘶𝘩𝘢𝘯...... 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘢 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘢𝘭 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘛𝘶𝘭𝘪 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘥?"
There was a long, loaded silence.
Sunita looked at her husband, then turned to her son with narrowed eyes. "𝘠𝘦𝘴, 𝘸𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥. 𝘉𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘔𝘦𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦. 𝘛𝘶𝘭𝘪 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴."
Meher's heart skipped a beat.
"𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘢𝘺?" Tushar barked. "𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘵?"
"𝘚𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘶𝘴, 𝘛𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳. 𝘚𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘯. 𝘓𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳 - 𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘫𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘶-𝘱𝘰𝘤𝘩𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘥." Sunita snapped.
"𝘉𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦!" Tushar returned back.
"𝘌𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘛𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳." Naresh said, rising his hand, his voice calm but cold. "𝘞𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘺𝘰. 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘋𝘢𝘥𝘶 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯. 𝘔𝘦𝘩𝘦𝘳'𝘴 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳."
"𝘋𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘶'𝘴 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯." Tushar's voice cracked slightly now. "𝘋𝘢𝘥𝘶 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘔𝘦𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥. 𝘏𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘧𝘶𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘺𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦."
Meher stood frozen at the corridor's edge, invisible to them all. Her lips parted slightly, but no sound came out. A sharp sting pierced her chest.
Dadu wanted her to marry Adhiraj.
Not Tuli.
Her legs trembled.
She had loved her grandfather more than anything in this world. After her parents died, it was he who held her hands through the nightmares. Who read her bedtime stories. Who called her "𝐌𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧" whenever she smiled, even if she worn torn clothes and sat with bruised plams from chores. He had believe in her.
And now....... now they said he had chosen her. Then it was meant to be her.
Not Tuli.
Her eyes burned.
She turned away quickly, not letting herself hear anything more. Now seeing how little Subhi ram up to her with a giggle.
She didn't hear it.
She didn't feel anything - expect she shattering inside her.
She stumbled into her her room, shut the door behind her, locked it, and slid to the floor.
Her hands gripped the ends of her kurta tightly as the first sob tore out of her. The second one followed like a wave.
Her dadu wanted her
But they never let her know.
And now...... he wasn't here to fight for her anymore.
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𝗡𝗲𝘅𝘁 𝗗𝗮𝘆: 𝗖𝗵𝗮𝘂𝗵𝗮𝗻 𝗠𝗮𝗻𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻
The blazing Rajasthan sun reflected sharply off the domes of Chauhan mansion as a car rolled to stop in the courtyard. Out stepped Tuli, her head held high, sunglass in place, followed by her mother, Sunita in her usual overly - assertive stride, her father Naresh looking mildly unsure, and Pritha - the only one with a genuinely calm presence.
The occasion? Formal talks - to finalize the wedding.
But Tushar wasn't there.
He had refused to come. No excuses, no explanations - just a sharp, "𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥." And perhaps, his absence spoke louder than words.
Inside the mansion, a full of poised royalty sat waiting. Nivaran, exuded his usual silent authority. Rukmini greeted the guests with a diplomatic smile. Tripti and Samradeep, even cordial, exchanged pleasantries while Maitree handled things with dignified calm.
The atmosphere was civil. Formal.
But amidst all this, one pair of eyes kept scanning quietly from the balcony above.
Adhiraj.
He hadn't said anything, but his gaze betrayed something more. He was looking for someone.
Meher.
She didn't came.
And that simple absence didn't go unnoticed by him. Perhaps the family assumed she was unwell. Perhaps they thought she had other things to do. But Adhiraj....... he noticed in a different way. His expression didn't change much, yet there was a tightness in his jaw.
He didn't even realize how long he stood there, waiting to catch a glimpse of a girl who didn't arrive.
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𝗡𝗲𝘅𝘁 𝗗𝗮𝘆 : 𝗦𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗽𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗠𝗮𝗹𝗹
It was the kind of boutique that didn't display price tags - because those who shopped here never asked. Chandeliers dripped from the ceiling like molten diamonds, the scent of rare and oud lingered in the air, and personal stylish bowed every few minutes as if they were paid to breath in sync with royalty.
I stood there, arms behind my back, dressed in an ink-black suit. Controlled. Silent.
Around me, chaos - velvet, sequins, laughter, forced joy.
Maa, Choti maa, and Sunita aunty examined lehengas as if preparing for battle. Advika was showing something to Tuli, whose voice sliced through the calm.
"𝘈𝘥𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘢𝘫, 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘦. 𝘗𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘡𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘰𝘴𝘪! 𝘖𝘯𝘭𝘺 2.3 𝘭𝘢𝘬𝘩𝘴. 𝘐𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢 𝘮𝘦 𝘷𝘪𝘣𝘦?"
I blinked.
Not because I was uninterested, but because I was trying - and falling - to care.
"𝘛𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵." I said, voice smooth, neutral. The kind of tone I used in boardrooms when I didn't care what they picked for the new luxury line.
"𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵, 𝘣𝘶𝘺 𝘪𝘵."
She laughed. "𝘚𝘰 𝘥𝘳𝘺. 𝘔𝘳. 𝘒𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘪𝘯 𝘪𝘵?"
I looked at her. Tuli - glamours, loud, overconfident. The woman my family believed fit the title of a Queen.
"𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵." I replied. Curt. Polite.
She turned back to the mirror. The duppta fluttered as she twirled. "𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘨𝘯𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵! 𝘐𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘚𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘴𝘬𝘪 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳?"
Swarovski.
Imported glittered for borrowed dreams.
I took a step back. Away from them all. Away from the racks of indulgence, the false laughter, the curated joy.
And for the moment - just a second - I let the weight of silence settle in my chest.
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