The Billionaire's Bride [ Rewritten]

Part 27 | Destined Love

" I still can't believe this."

Naira's voice was a breathless whisper, her face radiant as we crossed the road into the temple premises. "We are actually having a temple wedding."

I looked at the ancient stone archways towering above us, a tightening in my chest that had nothing to do with the heat. I hadn't stepped inside a place of worship since the night Nisha died.

It wasn't that I had turned into an atheist; I just simply stopped praying. I had lost all reasons to seek out the gods after that night.

Until Naira.

She didn't just bring me back to life,
She became my prayer.

I looked down at her small, soft hands curled securely around my arm as we navigated the courtyard. Her eyes wide, darting from the intricate carvings to the towering pillars, completely captivated by the architectural magnificence of the two-century-old temple.

"Now, time for the surprise," I murmured, leaning down toward her ear.

Before she could question me, I gently slipped my palms over her eyes, blocking out the sun-drenched stone. " No peeking." I whispered, guiding her forward.

We walked like that for another minute-her taking blind, hesitant steps, the heels of her sandals clicking softly against the marble floor, and the scent of jasmine and burning camphor growing thicker in the air.

When I finally stopped her and removed my hands, Naira gasped at the sight in front of her.

Standing in the open-air courtyard against a soft, early morning sky was a magnificent wedding mandap (canopy), lavishly decorated for our ceremony.

The entire roof was a dense dome of pink and white roses, from which hundreds of delicate floral garlands and brass temple bells hung, catching the warm light. Flowing, cream-colored drapes cascaded down the pillars, accented by vibrant green banana leaves and anchored by stacks of traditional brass lamps.

As the first rays of dawn filtered through the background trees, the entire setup glowed with an ethereal warmth-looking less like a structure and more like a dream materialized in petals.

" Kartik, this is beautiful," Naira beamed, leaning in to press a soft kiss against my cheek.

Before I could reply, a familiar voice cut through the quiet of the courtyard. "They are here!"

Aditi strode toward us, looking radiant in a pastel pink silk saree. Walking right beside her was Arjun, dressed in a traditional white dhoti and a cream-pink shirt.

I couldn't help but smirk.

My best friend, who used to strictly stock his wardrobe with shades of black, now left no opportunity to color-coordinate with the woman he was head over heels in love with.