Echoes Of Destiny | Multicouple ✓

4. ECHOES OF CHANGE

Avya

It was the beginning of the end.

The grand hall exuded opulence, high, arched ceilings were adorned with intricate gold patterns that reflected the warm glow of hundreds of crystal chandeliers. The walls were lined with rich silk drapes in shades of crimson and ivory, embroidered with delicate golden motifs. The floral arrangements—roses, marigolds, and orchids—spilled their fragrance into the air, arranged meticulously in vases of carved jade and crystal. At the center of the hall stood a raised platform, decorated with marigold garlands and soft red carpets, where the sacred fire crackled within a silver-lined hearth, casting flickering shadows across the room.

It was here, in front of the fire's witness, that my life was about to change irrevocably.

The ceremony progressed as if in a dream, fast-paced yet with every second dragging painfully, each moment stretching into eternity.

The weight of the red vermillion applied to my hairline felt heavier than the sum of my decisions, and the auspicious thread tied around my neck constricted not just my throat, but my heart.

We circled the sacred fire, each step binding us closer, the chants of the priest echoing like a verdict sealing my fate.

When the final mantra was uttered and flower petals rained upon us, the ceremony ended. Blessings were murmured, forced smiles exchanged, but the lump in my throat refused to ease.

I touched my wrist instinctively—a nervous habit. Only this time, it wasn’t just nerves. It was an anchor to a life that no longer felt like mine.

All my life, I’d prided myself on being prepared for what lay ahead, but life, is an unpredictable bitch, I hadn’t seen coming—not three months ago, and certainly not two years ago.

How far I had come from the girl who used to laugh with reckless abandon, her dimples deep and her heart full of dreams. That girl felt like a distant memory now, buried under layers of disappointment and lost expectations.

I couldn’t even remember the last time I had smiled—a real, heartfelt smile. Laughter had become an empty act, often directed at the cruel irony of my circumstances rather than stemming from any real joy. The last genuine moment of happiness I could recall had been years ago, shared with my best friends. A past I now avoided, knowing it would only bring a bittersweet ache.

Those friendships had taught me one of life’s harshest lessons: expectation breeds disappointment. And yet, I couldn’t help but wish for one last moment with them—a moment untainted by burdens and regrets.

My gaze flickered to the man beside me— Hridhaan Singhania.

Silent, composed, and unreadable.

As if sensing my gaze on him, he looked at me, his eyes intense and cold, yet distant. A shiver ran down my spine as our eyes met, the icy veneer of his stare barely concealing the storm of emotions swirling beneath the surface.

So, I was right to assume that, Hridhaan Singhania wasn’t a man of many words, but when he spoke, his words carried weight, each syllable landing with precision and purpose.

Yesterday’s events had already proven that his silence was preferable.

I shuddered at the memory, shaking my head slightly to dispel it, looking away from him.

And that was the only eye contact we had the entire wedding.

I scanned the room, taking in the faces of those present.

It was an intimate gathering, exclusive to close family and significant business partners only. The media had been strictly barred, ensuring that this union remained a private affair.