Esha's POV
The days leading up to the wedding were not simply passing; they were dissolving, like sugar in hot milk, leaving behind a potent sweetness of anticipation. Only a few heartbeats—a few sleeps—remained until I became Mrs. Aakash Raichand. My heart wasn't just flying ahead; it was an ecstatic little drumbeat, an accelerating anchor pulling me toward the future.
I hurried downstairs, breathless and flustered, murmuring apologies as soon as I saw everyone waiting in the living room—Mumma, Bua, and my two lovely sisters-in-law, Shreeja Bhabhi and Malini Bhabhi. Soon, Meera Aunty and Aksh arrived too. We departed for shopping.
It was a brilliant Saturday, a day dedicated entirely to the final, glorious phase of shopping. Aksh had successfully banished all the men—fathers, uncles, and himself from participating, declaring a "Gentlemen's Retreat" at the house. He wore a delightful grin, the orchestrator of the chaos-free shopping day.
"Waise Eshu, Aakash ji ne kya apni sherwani dekhayi?" Malini Bhabhi asked casually, her eyes gleaming with sudden mischief.
(By the way, Eshu, did Aakash show you his sherwani?)
My eyes went wide. I couldn't speak anything as my face was flooded with embarrassment and a rush of memories. The question instantly triggered a vivid flashback:
Flashback Starts
The evening had started so perfectly—a small, cozy weekend dinner, the kind where the scent of good food lingers and the conversation flows easily. After the plates were cleared, the inevitable happened: the Ludo board came out. The six of us—my sisters, brothers, and sisters-in-law—were deep into a fiercely competitive, yet lighthearted, battle of strategy and luck. Laughter was already ringing through the room, fueled by the familiar comfort of family.
I was concentrating fiercely, trying to get my final piece home, when my phone, resting face-up beside the board, lit up like a miniature spotlight. The sudden flash drew everyone's gaze, but it was the name glowing brightly on the screen that truly stopped the game: Aksh.
A collective silence descended, thick and instantaneous, like a curtain dropping on a stage play. Then, the silence was shattered.
"Ooh, look who it is!" "The man himself!" "Someone's color is changing!"
The teasing erupted in a synchronized chorus of whistles and exaggerated sighs. My cheeks immediately felt like they were on fire, a blistering heat spreading from my neck right up to my ears. I instinctively reached for the phone, trying to cover the screen with my hand, but it was too late. Their eyes were twinkling with mischief, and every single one of them had a knowing, conspiratorial smirk plastered on their faces.
Flashback Ends
Aksh. He was done with his shopping, the secret of his wedding sherwani fiercely guarded. I could still hear his velvety denial from the night before: "Don't be so eager, sweetheart. I will show the sherwani and myself during our wedding." That teasing promise, whispered across a darkened room, brought a small, irrepressible smile to my lips even now.
Our first stop was a boutique famous for its bridal collection. Mumma and Meera Aunty, having already completed their own celebratory attire, parted ways to browse elsewhere, leaving me with Malini Bhabhi and Shreeja Bhabhi.
We dove into the vibrant world of ceremony outfits. The Haldi dresses were sunny mustards and golds; the Mehndi attire, lush emeralds and sea greens; the Sangeet gowns, electric blues and fuschias designed for dancing. It took nearly three hours of deliberation, holding up fabrics to the light and debating the ideal dupatta drape, to finalize the colours for the pre-wedding functions.
But then came the centrepiece: the bridal collection.
I gravitated immediately toward the classic hues. While many contemporary colours looked stunning on a bride, nothing, to my mind, possessed the same power and emotional depth as red. It wasn't merely a colour; it was a tradition, a promise, the very pigment of a Hindu wedding.
My breath hitched. In the far-right corner, illuminated by a spotlight, was a lehenga that didn't just hang there—it seemed to glow. It was a deep, authoritative Red, not screaming but demanding attention. The fabric was heavy silk, embroidered with intricate gold work that seemed to catch and hold every drop of light, rendering the design timeless and eternal. I whispered, pointing. "Look." Their dual reaction was instantaneous. "It's so good," Malini Bhabhi breathed, while Shreeja Bhabhi nodded rapidly, her eyes wide.
I requested the salesgirl, a kind woman who seemed to understand the gravity of the moment, to let me try it. In the changing room, as the heavy skirt settled around my waist and the dupatta was carefully pinned, I looked in the mirror. It was more than perfect. The fabric felt like a second skin, rich and validating. I didn't just look like a bride; I looked like Aksh's bride. It was a future made visible. Stepping out, I was met by two synchronised squeals that broke the quiet decorum of the boutique.
"Waa Eshu, tu kitnu pyaari lag rahi hain!" They exclaimed, their faces filled with genuine awe.
(Wow, Eshu, you are looking so beautiful!)
"Tujhe shaadi ke din iss lehenge mein dekh kar, Aksh ji apni nazar nahi hata payege!" Malini Bhabhi commented, her voice full of knowing mischief.
(Seeing you in this lehenga on the wedding day, Aakash won't be able to take his eyes off you!)
My cheeks flushed scarlet, a sudden, surprising heat rising to match the color of the silk I wore. When I looked back at them, they shared a perfectly synchronized, notorious smirk—the beautiful, teasing conspiracy of new sisters. With a final nod, the decision was sealed.
After purchasing the red dream, we met Mumma and Meera Aunty, who were equally impressed by our selections. Our destination was the jewellery store—a dazzling, slightly overwhelming space crowded with weekend shoppers.
Sitting on a velvet stool in front of a mirror, I was lost in a sea of sparkle. I picked up a glittering maang tikka, holding it against my forehead, trying to imagine the final look.
Suddenly, a presence materialized behind me, a familiar, grounding warmth. Before I could turn, a cool weight settled around my neck. I startled, my gaze flying up to the mirror, and there he was. Aksh.
He slid a magnificent, intricately crafted gold necklace—a design I hadn't even seen on the trays—into place. The central pendant, a cluster of uncut diamonds framed in rubies, rested perfectly against my collarbone.
He bent slightly, his chin resting lightly on the curve of my shoulder, his proximity sending a shiver—equal parts thrill and shock—down my spine. I could smell the familiar, clean scent of his cologne and the underlying warmth of his skin.
"Perfect," he whispered.
The single word, husky and deep, vibrated against my ear. His breath was warm, and the sheer intimacy of the moment, surrounded by hundreds of people, felt like a secret universe had opened just for us.
In the mirror, our eyes met. His gaze was soft, possessive, and utterly focused on me, completely oblivious to the bustling store around us. My heart was pounding, a frantic bird against my ribs. I realized two terrifying things: one, he had defied the "Gentlemen's Retreat" to steal this moment; and two, we were in a public place.
My gaze darted nervously to the crowded section.
"Aakash, aap yahan kya kar rahe hain. Aap ko ghar mein hona chahiye tha." I said to him, a little flustered. I didn't understand how to react. His chin was still on my shoulder, and I was afraid of what others would think seeing us like this.
(Aakash, what are you doing here. You should be at home.)
"Tumhare liye hi aaya hu, Sweetheart," he replied while his chin still rested on my shoulder.
(I came just for you, Sweetheart.)
I turned my face backwards, checking the surroundings. All the ladies were busy buying their jewellery, their focus thankfully elsewhere.
"What is this, Sweetheart?" He asked. "Mein tumhare liye aaya hu aur tum ho ki mujhse baat bhi nahi kar rahi hu."
(What is this, Sweetheart? I came for you, and you aren't even talking to me.)
I blushed as I listened to his husky voice. I was going to answer him when suddenly I heard Malini Bhabhi's voice.
"Eshu, how is this piece nice?" She came towards me, holding up a necklace. Why didn't she mention anything about him?
My eyes went wide. She looked at my face and asked me, "What happened, Eshu? Are you tense?"
Confusion struck my mind. I looked in the direction where he had rested his chin on my shoulder. What made my eyes even wider is that there was no one there. Bhabhi asked me if I was okay. I gave her a positive response. Her eyes suddenly went to the piece around my neck.
"Wow, Eshu, this necklace looks very good on you," she said with a huge grin.
My eyes fell on the mirror. I was confused. If I were only thinking about him, then how did this necklace get to my neck? I finalized that piece, slightly dazed, and everyone was busy doing their shopping. I began to wander all through the store. I strongly felt his presence when he was around me. He was nowhere to be found. I might have worn it and just imagined him. I stopped thinking about it.
Aakash's POV
The "Gents' Retreat" was precisely what it sounded like: an escape. After wrapping up our quick shopping, we men retreated to a comfortable lounge. We talked about everything and nothing—politics, cricket, and finally, inevitably, marriage.
As the married men—my brothers and cousins—shared their tales of early married life, full of nostalgia and hilarious anecdotes, I could feel their playful glances constantly darting my way. Every story ended with a conspiratorial smirk aimed straight at me, the next one in line. There was a warmth in their teasing, a welcoming into the club, that filled me with quiet anticipation.
However, the chatter eventually died down. Boredom set in, and the collective craving for street food became too strong to ignore. Ritesh Bhai, the self-proclaimed local expert, drove us straight to the vibrant chaos of Chandni Chowk.
The food was incredible. The rich, spicy aromas, the noise, the sheer energy of the place—it was a perfect distraction. I was happily devouring a plate of chole bhature when I looked up and saw them.
Across the street, emerging from a clothing store, were Maa and the ladies. And there she was: Eshu. She was engrossed in conversation with her Bhabhis, her face bright with focused excitement.
A naughty idea sparked in my mind, quick and irresistible. I was already buzzing with the anticipation of our wedding, and seeing her in that setting—the pre-wedding whirl—fueled a sudden, mischievous impulse. I wanted a moment, just a fraction of time, to myself with her, regardless of the chaos.
I quickly excused myself. "I'll be back in five minutes," I mumbled, setting my plate down. Everyone was still too focused on their plates to pay attention, which was exactly what was needed.
I moved discreetly, keeping my distance as I saw the group of ladies head directly towards a large jewellery store. My heart started beating a little faster. This was my chance.
I slipped into the store behind them, trying to look like a lost husband waiting for his wife. The air inside was completely different—cool, quiet, and dazzling. I scanned the room and found her almost immediately.
Eshu was sitting in a corner, near a velvet-covered display, her brow furrowed in concentration as she compared several bridal necklace designs. She looked utterly beautiful, lost in the seriousness of choosing the perfect piece.
I moved stealthily, navigating the busy aisles until I was right behind her chair. My excitement mixed with a sudden, overwhelming tenderness. I leaned in slowly, the scent of her hair filling my senses. I couldn't resist.
I settled my chin gently on the curve of her neck, savoring the shock of her stillness. Her body immediately stiffened, and I felt the small intake of her breath against my ear. That brief, delicious moment of shared, secret intimacy was all I needed.
Just as I anticipated, her cheeks flushed a lovely shade of pink. I pulled back almost instantly, knowing the flirtatious game was over before it could get us into trouble. My plan was just for a fleeting, unforgettable moment. I quickly circled the display, pretending to look at gold coins, just as Malini Bhabhi approached Eshu.
I overheard Malini Bhabhi ask, "Eshu, how is this piece nice?"
Eshu's confused silence made me smirk. She was clearly reeling from my sudden appearance and disappearance. My eyes, however, were drawn to the necklace now resting on her collarbone—the exact piece I had seen her debating over.
A mischievous realization dawned on me. She had been so distracted by my presence—or the phantom feeling of it—that she hadn't even noticed putting the necklace on! I watched as Malini Bhabhi complimented her.
I rushed back to Chandni Chowk and rejoined the group casually, arriving perfectly on time. The food suddenly tasted much sweeter, flavored by the knowledge of the little piece of magic I had just performed. She was right; I was nowhere to be found, but I had left my mark.
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Hey Folks!!
She surely is changing him. From a cold to a naughty man. Not bad, Aakash. Are you excited about their marriage? For that, stay tuned!!
Hope you like this chapter. If yes, please like the chapter and comment on your favourite part.
Also, comment on the theories you think would happen next. Would love to read them.
Thanks for reading ❤️...