Knotted Destiny

07

P U R V I

As he slid the ring onto my finger, the hall erupted in applause. With his hand extended toward me, I felt every pair of eyes fixed on me, silently urging me to complete the gesture.

The ceremony was intimate, attended only by a handful of close relatives and trusted neighbors. We had chosen to keep the engagement private for now, ensuring that no one would disclose the news prematurely. Our families would make the official announcement in a few days.

I stared at the ring in my grasp—a lustrous gold band adorned with a delicate diamond that sparkled brilliantly under the light. A lump formed in my throat, and I swallowed hard, steadying myself.

There’s no turning back now.

You can still walk away…

No! No, I can’t! What about Papa? H-he’ll have to endure the taunts again!
And what about you? What if you disappoint the family you're about to become a part of?

What if— No! I have to move on! I can’t cling to my past forever… right?

Moving on doesn’t mean marrying someone. You can still move forward with the memories of your past.

Yeah, I could… but—

I don’t have any memories worth cherishing. They don’t comfort me… they haunt me. They suffocate me.

“Purvi, what’s wrong?”

My mother’s voice shattered the storm raging inside me. I took a deep breath, shaking my head as if to clear the lingering doubt. My hands trembled as I reached forward, sliding the ring onto his finger.
There was no turning back now.

Another round of applause erupted as our parents congratulated us, followed by the rest of the guests, one by one. My hands were still trembling, though I couldn’t quite understand why.

Suddenly, a larger, warmer hand enveloped mine. I knew it was his, yet I didn’t pull away. I needed the warmth, the steady hold—something to ground me, to soothe my anxiousness.

“Do we need to leave, Mangetar?” he whispered, his voice unexpectedly soft and tender. [Mangetar = Fiancée]

What’s with his voice?

It was the first time I had heard him speak like that.

So gentle? So… tender?

Is this really the same arrogant bastard?

I turned to him, my expression bewildered. He frowned slightly. “What?” he asked, his confusion mirroring mine. Then, almost instantly, I watched his face shift—his soft expression vanishing, replaced by his usual arrogant demeanor.

There he is.

"I mean, do you want to leave?" he asked, his voice back to its usual arrogant tone.

"No! How can I leave my own engagement? What will people think?" I protested.

"Log gaye ghas charane. If you want, we can leave, Mangetar," he said nonchalantly.

"First of all, stop calling me that!"

"What?"

"That!"

"What that?!"

"Areeh… M-Mangetar!" I huffed in exasperation.

"But you are my Mangetar." He cocked an eyebrow, a small smirk playing on his lips.

This jerk—!

I was about to retort when suddenly, a shrill voice stole our attention.

"Hello!!"