Kshitij got Kritika [Completed✓]

CHAPTER ~ 18

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POV :~ KSHITIJ

Garlands had been exchanged, and the priest gestured for us to take our seats. I led Kritika to the designated place near the sacred fire, noticing her graceful yet cautious steps. Her lehenga, beautiful and elaborate, was making it a bit challenging for her to move freely.

Why do even girls wear this heavy thing when they know they'll have to face problem? I mean honestly, it would be heavier than Kritika herself.

We approached the seating area, and I saw the slight struggle in her eyes as she tried to manage the heavy fabric. Without a second thought, I gently placed my hand on her arm, guiding her down slowly.

"Here Kritika, let me help you," I whispered, ensuring she sat comfortably.

She looked up at me, her eyes shimmering.

At this moment, I will not lie—the way the light from the fire danced on her face made her look even more radiant. The deep red of her lehenga contrasted beautifully with her fair skin.

She nodded her head, but before I could help more, Shreya arrived to help her. She sat down slowly, beside me.

This moment, with her sitting next to me, was something I had envisioned but never quite imagined would be so peaceful. Her beauty wasn’t just in her appearance; it was in the way she carried herself, the way her eyes conveyed a mixture of nervousness and excitement, and the way she looked at me with unwavering love and trust.

The priest began chanting the mantras for the next part of the ceremony, but for a brief moment, all I could focus on was Kritika.

She'll no more be Kritika Verma, she'll have my name. Kritika Kshitij Gupta.

The woman who is going to be my wife, my partner – for life.

And before this sacred fire lightened infront of me, I'll not lie— I will always be loyal to her. She will always be my one and only. I know I need time, and she is ready to give me too, but that doesn't mean that in that time interval I will focus on other girls, or I'll ever be disloyal to her with my feelings towards other girls. I will be hers as much as she'll be mine. I'll fulfil all my duties of a husband for her. I don't know whether it'll ever be from love angle, but I'll do my best to keep her happy.

The ceremony progressed, and the priest announced that it was time for the Kanyadaan. Kritika's mother, Meera aunty approached us, her face a mixture of pride, joy, and a hint of melancholy.

She was giving away her daughter, entrusting her to me, and the gravity of that responsibility settled heavily on my shoulders.

Her mother took Kritika's hand and placed it in mine, her eyes searching mine for a moment of understanding. I nodded, a silent promise that I would protect her always. That her family is mine now. Till the end of my life.

She poured holy water over our clasped hands, her eyes moist with unshed tears. The water trickled over our fingers, binding us together in this sacred act. Kritika's eyes were watery too, way too much. She was almost hiccuping and I understand, it's tough for her. Only if I could do something to make this moment a little light for her.

Rituals after rituals. Pheres, vows, promises, to remain lifelong friends, committed companions, to care for each other’s health, ensuring well-being and longevity, promise to share our happiness and sorrows, supporting each other in all circumstances, to nourish each other and provide for our household and when the priest said to raise strong, virtuous children and to guide them along the righteous path, Kritika looked into my eyes, gulping down.