From Shadows to Sunlight: A Journey of Liberation and Love🧿

9. The First Morning

The first rays of sunlight filtered through the delicate curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. Meera stirred slightly, her eyes fluttering open. For a moment, she felt disoriented, unsure of her surroundings. But then the events of the previous night came rushing back to her, and she remembered. She remembered the warmth of Vikrant's hand, the tender way he had spoken to her, and the gentle kiss on her forehead as she drifted off to sleep.

She turned her head slightly and saw Vikrant beside her, still asleep. His face, calm and peaceful, was illuminated by the morning light. She studied his features—the strong jawline, the gentle curve of his lips, the dark lashes resting against his cheeks. In his sleep, he seemed almost vulnerable, a stark contrast to the confident and caring man she had come to know.A small, shy smile played on her lips. For the first time in a long while, she felt a glimmer of happiness, a spark of hope.

Suddenly, Meera's eyes darted to the clock on the bedside table. Panic surged through her as she realized it was already 7:30 AM. Fear gripped her heart; she was late on the first morning after her marriage. The expectations and rules from her old home loomed over her, and she felt a rush of anxiety.

She carefully slipped out of bed, trying not to disturb Vikrant. Moving quickly, she grabbed her towel and headed to the bathroom. The cool water of her bath helped calm her nerves a little, but her mind raced with thoughts of her new family and the responsibilities she now held.Emerging from the bathroom, she picked a saree from the wardrobe—a soft pink one with delicate silver embroidery, symbolizing both grace and modesty. She draped the saree expertly, the pallu covering her head, a gesture of respect she knew was expected. She secured her hair into a simple bun, adorned with fresh jasmine flowers she found on the dresser.After applying a light touch of kohl to her eyes and a hint of sindoor in the parting of her hair, she took a deep breath. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror, hoping she looked presentable. Gathering her courage, she quickly left the room, her heart pounding in her chest.

As Meera made her way downstairs, she could hear the sounds of morning activity. The clinking of dishes, the murmur of voices—her new family was already up and about. She silently prayed she wasn't too late and that her new life wouldn't start with a reprimand. 

As she reached the bottom, she observed the bustling scene in the living area. Her mother-in-law, Anjali, was instructing the servants with calm efficiency while preparing tea. Nearby, her father-in-law, Prithvi Rathore, sat on the jhula near the window, absorbed in his newspaper. The servants moved swiftly around the room, each engrossed in their tasks.

Taking a deep breath, Meera headed towards the kitchen where Anjali was busy. She paused at the entrance, feeling a wave of apprehension. She had heard stories about strict mother-in-laws and wanted to make a good impression. Just as she was gathering her courage, Anjali looked up and spotted her.

"Meera," Anjali called, her tone kind and warm.

Hearing the gentle tone of her mother-in-law's voice, Meera was momentarily taken aback. She remembered her own mother harshly reprimanding her sister Anika for the smallest mistakes. The contrast was stark and stirred a mix of emotions within her.

Meera took a step forward, then another, until she was close enough to bend down and touch Anjali's feet in a gesture of respect. "Good morning, Ma," she greeted softly.

Anjali placed a gentle hand on her head, offering a blessing. "Good morning, Meera. How are you feeling today?"

"I'm fine, Ma," Meera replied, straightening up. "I'm sorry for being late this morning. It won't happen again, I promise."