Her Only Saviour

13. Pre-engagement chaos

I slipped into a gorgeous peacock green lehenga—the one Saisha had picked for me, designed lovingly by Gauri aunty for my engagement.
Honestly, it was breathtaking.
The embroidery shimmered under the lights, and I couldn’t wait to show it off.

I quickly made my way toward where everyone was gathered. The lehenga felt like magic, and I couldn’t stop smiling.
I felt... beautiful.

As I approached, I noticed the whole family—including some boutique staff and a few starry-eyed teenage girls—staring in the same direction.
Curious, I followed their line of sight and—

Oh.
Of course.

There he was.
Mr. Droolworthy Oberoi.
In all his tall, smug, annoyingly perfect glory... wearing a peacock green kurta.

Wait—what?!
Peacock green? Are you kidding me?

Shut up, Nandini. He’s your devar.
Your fiancé’s brother. Breathe.
And yet, my inner voice was not shutting up. It was shrieking.

Before I could recover from the unexpected color coincidence, everyone turned to look at me—and gasped.

Hehe. I mean, obviously.
I am looking fabulous.

“Wow, Nandini beta, just look at you! Kitni pyaari lag rahi ho,” Anika aunty beamed, patting my cheek.

I blushed hard.

“Haan bhabhi, bilkul pari lag rahi hai. Perfect Oberois ki bah—uh, I mean, Shahs ki bahu,” Gauri aunty corrected herself, gently pinching my cheeks.

And then the twins, the absolute traitors, gasped dramatically.

“Bhai and Nandini di are TWINNING!”

“Aww, they look like an actual couple!” they added with a dreamy sigh.

I’m going to strangle both of them.
Slowly.
With a matching dupatta.

Meanwhile, he stepped forward, looking completely sheepish.

“I—I’m sorry, Nandini. I didn’t know you were going to wear this color. Don’t worry, I’ll go change,” he said earnestly, avoiding my gaze.

Oh god, why is he being sweet now?

“It’s okay, Mr. Oberoi,” I replied with a smile, keeping my voice calm. “You don’t need to apologize. It’s just a coincidence. And please, don't go changing because of me.”

I turned back to the family, spinning slightly on my heel.
“So? Tell me—is this lehenga engagement-worthy or not?”

The response was immediate.

“Of course!”

“Absolutely!”

“It’s perfect!”

“Dude, you’re glowing.”

Compliments came from all directions, and I basked in the warmth of it, grinning.

“Aunty, where’s Parth’s mom?” I asked Gauri aunty, who was fixing the border of my dupatta.

“Probably off picking a sherwani for her laadla beta,” she said with a sly wink.

Typical. No one really liked Kamini aunty or Parth, except for Dadu, Dadi, and the uncles.
The rest of us? Let’s just say we tolerated them for family drama’s sake.

“Acha beta, now go change,” Anika aunty said gently.

I nodded and headed back toward the changing room, holding the skirt of my lehenga slightly off the floor.