The next morning, I slipped into my purple lehenga, the soft fabric brushing against my skin as I adjusted the heavy pleats. The silver jhumkas swayed against my neck, tinkling gently as I leaned closer to the mirror. My reflection smiled back—bright, nervous, excited. Today wasn't just Anita and Nikhil's wedding; it was also the day my parents had finally accepted me and Vaishank. My heart felt too full for words. What more could I possibly ask for?
When I stepped out of the room, I froze for a moment—Vaishank's parents were waiting in the hall. Sona aunty's eyes lit up the second they met mine. She stretched her arms wide, warmth in every line of her face.
"Come to me, my future daughter-in-law," she said, her voice soft but brimming with love.
Laughter bubbled up in my chest as I rushed into her embrace, inhaling the faint scent of sandalwood from her saree. Anil uncle stood beside her, his kind smile deepening the lines near his eyes.
"I was thinking of marrying you to Vaishank from the very first day I saw you," aunty whispered as she pressed a ladoo to my lips. "But destiny worked faster than I did."
Sweetness melted on my tongue, but it was her words that made my cheeks warm. Uncle cleared his throat gently, his voice calm but certain.
"Tomorrow, we've invited your family to dinner. Don't forget."
I nodded, my smile widening until it hurt my cheeks.
---
By the time we loaded the luggage into Ravi uncle's car, excitement buzzed through the air like invisible firecrackers. Sudesh called out instructions to the driver, and I bent to place my small bag inside when—
A hand brushed lightly over my waist. My breath hitched.
I spun, and there he was—Vaishank. His eyes caught mine, gleaming with mischief as he leaned in, his voice low and rough, curling straight into my bones.
"Come with me in my car."
Heat rippled through me, but before I could answer, my father's voice cut the air.
"What happened?"
Vaishank immediately straightened, stepping back with an innocent smile.
"No, uncle. I was only thinking it would be better if Amrita came with me."
His charm was effortless. My parents exchanged a look, my mother's blush betraying her delight. She adored us, and it showed in her glowing smile.
"Fine," my father said simply, continuing with the bags.
I blinked, stunned at how easily Vaishank's wish had been granted. My pulse drummed as he caught my wrist, warm fingers curling gently but firmly around me, and tugged me toward his car.
Inside, he slid beside me, close enough that his shoulder brushed mine. Every tiny contact sparked like electricity under my skin. My lungs forgot how to breathe.
He leaned in, his lips grazing the shell of my ear, his breath hot against my skin.
"You look so beautiful."
My fingers clutched the fabric of my lehenga, knuckles whitening. A shiver rippled down my spine. The driver's steady focus on the road was the only thing that kept me from falling apart completely.
His lips trailed, teasing, brushing the curve of my cheek. I shoved lightly at his chest, whispering hoarsely, "Stop it, yaar. I don't want to ruin my makeup."
He only grinned, thumb stroking across my lips—slow, deliberate. My breath faltered. Then, with a playful flick, he grazed them with his tongue, his smile deepening at my helpless blush.
---
The wedding venue shimmered in colors of marigold and jasmine, the air thick with incense and laughter. Kids darted through the crowd, squealing with joy. I stood with my parents, my gaze sneaking toward Vaishank across the hall. Though he stood tall beside his parents, his eyes never strayed from me. A silent promise lingered in that look, calming the small insecurities that flickered inside me amidst all the beautiful women in the crowd.
Soon, drums rolled, and Nikhil entered, his welcome grand and joyous. Anita followed, her face veiled as Sudesh guided her with steady hands. When the garlands were exchanged, when the fire blazed and the mantras were chanted, my eyes blurred with emotion. The moment Nikhil tied the mangalsutra around Anita's neck, my heart filled with a vision of me and Vaishank, circling the sacred fire together one day.
I stole a glance at Ravi uncle and Sarala aunty, tears gleaming in their eyes. Sudesh kept a smile, his shoulders squared, but the tight bob of his Adam's apple betrayed his hidden ache. I squeezed his shoulder gently. He turned, forcing a grin, bumping mine with his in a silent "I'm fine." But I knew better.
---
Later, beneath the soft glow of fairy lights in our garden, the family gathered for antakshari. Laughter rang through the cool night air as Sudesh announced, "Now it ends with TU."
Everyone leaned in, thinking fast. The boys counted, "One, two—"
And suddenly, aunty's voice rose, strong and playful:
"Tujhe dekha toh yeh jaana sanam, pyar hota hai deewana sanam…"
We girls joined in chorus, our voices mingling with laughter. My hands clapped to the beat, but my eyes scanned the crowd. No sign of him.
Where was Vaishank?
I excused myself quietly, slipping away. My lehenga swished with every hurried step as I searched. Then I saw him—on the swing, his face tilted down, lost in thought.
I sat beside him, nudging lightly. "What are you doing here alone?"
He glanced at me, the faintest smile tugging at his lips.
"Just waiting. For you. I thought you'd never come… but you did. Lucky me."
My eyes widened at his plan, and I smacked his shoulder. "You and your plans!"
He laughed, dodging playfully, before we both settled into silence. My legs swung gently, brushing the grass. His voice dropped low.
"Watching Anita and Nikhil… I couldn't help but imagine us. But I know—I'll wait. Until you finish your studies."
My heart softened. I smiled, nodding, words unnecessary.
Then—
A scream tore through the garden.
We bolted to our feet, panic surging. Back in the garden, my father clutched his chest, his face contorted in pain.
"Pa!" I cried, rushing to him.
My mother's sobs cut through the chaos as relatives swarmed. Fear constricted my throat, my heart hammering painfully.
Without hesitation, Vaishank scooped my father into his arms, his voice urgent. "We need to get him to the hospital—now!"
I scrambled into the front seat, twisting back to see my mother cradling my father's head in her lap.
"Raj ji, please hold on," she pleaded, her voice trembling.
Tears blurred my vision. My breath came ragged, chest tight as though mirroring his pain. Fear clawed inside me, whispering the worst. I gripped the dashboard, my lips trembling, as the car sped through the night.