𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬

III

Edited

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It's not how big the house is, it's how happy the home is.

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The following dawn roused Kashvi from her slumber with a gentle knock on the room door. She turned over, glancing towards the side. Rishiv was still deeply asleep, his face softened in slumber, a stark contrast to his usually guarded demeanor.

Approaching the door, she opened it to find Aarna standing there, holding a delicately wrapped saree in her hands.

"Good Morning," Aarna chimed cheerfully, her bright smile a sharp contrast to Kashvi's lingering exhaustion.

"Sorry for waking you up, but Mummy Ji has called you both down for the post-wedding rituals," she continued, her voice carrying warm authority.

The rituals-a consequence of her recent, unexpected marriage. Kashvi felt a familiar pang of discomfort. It was strange to think she was now part of this powerful family, her life altered in the blink of an eye. She sighed internally but nodded to Aarna. "We'll be down soon."

Aarna handed her the saree. "Here is your saree. If you need anything else, feel free to ask me," she offered before leaving Kashvi alone with her thoughts. Once again.

Left to herself, Kashvi's mind swirled with what-ifs and doubts. She moved to the bathroom, splashing cold water on her face as if to wake herself up from this surreal new reality. The next forty minutes were spent washing her hair and slipping into the beautiful light greyish-blue saree. It clung to her waist, highlighting her curves elegantly. She had always been told she was beautiful, but today she felt like she was wearing a mask-dressed up for a life she didn't choose.

Meanwhile, in the room, Rishiv stirred awake to the sound of items shifting on the dresser. In his half-asleep state, his eyes settled on Kashvi as she towel-dried her hair, illuminated by the soft morning light streaming in. She looked like a vision from an old Bollywood film-a perfect cliché, as if fate was mocking him. She was stunning, undeniably so, but his heart remained detached. She was still the replaced bride, and nothing could change that.

"Stop staring like a creep," she said dryly, catching his gaze in the mirror without turning around.

"I'm not staring," he retorted, more sharply than intended, pushing himself up from the bed. Kashvi's eyes rolled in response, and she continued with her routine, finishing her makeup with calm precision.

Fifteen minutes later, they descended the grand staircase together, putting on a united front for the family despite the icy distance between them.

"Kashvi, your pehli rasoi needs to be done first, then we can proceed with the rest of the rituals," announced Jhanvi, a warm smile lighting her face. Sara and Aarna offered to show her around the sprawling kitchen, a space large enough to fit Kashvi's entire old apartment.

"What would you like to make?" Aarna asked.

Kashvi hesitated, the weight of expectation pressing down on her shoulders. "Gajar ka halwa," she decided-a simple, comforting dish she could handle without fumbling.

"If you tell us what ingredients are needed, we'll show you where they are," Sara said kindly. Kashvi rattled off a list, and within minutes, everything she needed was neatly arranged on the counter. She began to grate the carrots, the repetitive motion soothing her frazzled nerves.

Half an hour later, the rich aroma of the simmering halwa filled the kitchen. Dadi peered over her shoulder, nodding approvingly before directing her to let it cool while the other rituals proceeded.