Silent Longing

Chapter 3

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Author's Pov

Location: Iyer Household

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It was around 3 when Trisha finally found the will to move. She stood in front of her wardrobe, fingers lightly tracing over the clothes that hung in neat rows. Her eyes skimmed over them, her mind barely registering their colors or textures. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to feel today—nervous? Resigned? Hopeful? None of it seemed to settle right.

Her fingers finally stopped on a lavender kurti, its soft fabric a quiet comfort in her hands. It wasn't too bright or loud, just... simple. She pulled it off the hanger and laid it on the bed. As her eyes lingered on the garment, she felt a tightness building in her chest. This wasn't about her. Nothing about this felt like it was ever about her.

The printed organza dupatta that she picked to go with it floated lightly in her hands, its delicate design almost mocking the heaviness inside her. As she draped it over her shoulders, she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror.

No makeup, she decided. There was no need for it. It wasn't like she was trying to impress anyone, least of all Vikram. He had made his feelings clear over the phone—harsh, dismissive, cold. She swallowed hard, pushing down the hurt that had been simmering ever since. She wasn't sure what she had expected from that call, but the reality of it had stung more than she'd like to admit.

She moved mechanically now, her body on autopilot as she selected her jewelry—a pair of silver jhumkas, delicate but pretty, the kind her mother always said framed her face well. She slipped them on, the soft chime they made as they moved sending a strange shiver down her spine. Her fingers found the small, dainty rings she always wore, sliding them on one by one without much thought.

Trisha stared at herself in the mirror, studying her reflection as if she were looking at a stranger. The girl staring back seemed calm, composed. But inside, everything was in chaos.

Trisha (to herself): "You'll be fine. It's just a meeting. Just one more meeting."

But this wasn't just another meeting, was it? This was different. There was no getting around what this was supposed to be, no matter how much she tried to rationalize it. She was being pushed into something she had no say in. A meeting today. A marriage tomorrow. And with it, a lifetime tethered to someone who clearly didn't care to know her.

She thought about the phone call again—Vikram's clipped tone, the way he had almost barked out the plan to meet. Like it was a burden for him. Like she was a burden. Her chest tightened as the memory washed over her, the frustration, the helplessness she had felt then bubbling back up. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, fighting the tears that were threatening to spill over.

Trisha (to herself): "Don't cry. Don't let him see how much this affects you."

But the truth was, it did. It affected her more than she wanted to admit. Her whole life had been a series of moments where she felt invisible, where her feelings didn't seem to matter. And now, standing here, getting ready to meet the man she was expected to marry, that same feeling of invisibility crept in again.

Trisha (to herself): "This isn't about you. It never was."

Her parents had made a promise, and now she was the one paying for it. That much was clear. It was all happening so fast, and yet, she felt like she had no control. Like her life was no longer her own.

She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. You can do this, she repeated in her mind, as if saying it enough times would make it true.

One step at a time.