Aayan x Aashi: Grumpy x Sunshine, Age Gap, Marriage of Convenience, Contract Marriage
Aayan - "Please don't expect love or compassion from me. I can promise you respect, but I'll never be able to give you the place of a wife. However, I can be your...
"You're already 22! If not now, then when?" my mom yelled at me as I crossed the threshold of my room, leaving her behind. " Mumma, tell me something I don't know!" I said to my mother, drawing out the words with a chuckle. I'm quite a fan of SRK, but unlike other girls, I have zero interest in love. The idea of a charming prince riding a beautiful horse coming to rescue me makes me want to vomit. Why do these soap operas always show women needing to be rescued by men? Why can't they protect themselves? Well, our Indian history supports my point of view. "Yes, I know you know, but I'm just reminding you!" my mother said as she handed me my lunch and water bottle. "This is the third boy you've rejected!" she added, clearly frustrated. "You're a girl; you should be married by 23 and have kids by 25," she insisted. "Yes, Mom," I replied, giving her a kiss on the cheek before leaving for work. As I started my car, I heard her shout, "You're getting more stubborn by the day. If you don't listen, I'll have to take matters into my own hands!".
With an inaudible sigh, I started driving. Ever since hearing that my friend Sandili is already married and blessed with a baby boy and that Khushi's engagement is confirmed, my mother has been pressuring me to get married. Why does she think that marriage is the sole purpose of a girl's life? There's a whole life ahead for that. I didn't work so hard-sacrificing sleep, enduring hunger, and battling self-doubt-just to end up married and confined to someone's four walls. I want to work, earn, travel, and pursue all the dreams I've had. I don't disrespect women who dedicate their lives to their husbands and children, but I have my own choices. Unfortunately, my mother is resistant to my perspective. But my mother needs to understand that marriage is the last thing on my list of goals, and I'm not sure it will ever get checked off in this lifetime. With these thoughts in mind, I arrived at the office where I'm doing my article ship for ACCA. This is my final year, and I've already started receiving job offers from foreign companies. Just one more year, and then I'll leave India for good.
While I was in the middle of typing something on my laptop, I received a notification from my mother. I opened it to find yet another picture of a man in his late twenties. I sighed in annoyance, but before I could close the picture, a message from her popped up: "You have to meet him today at 4 PM at Sky High Cafe in Noida, and if you don't, forget about the favorite dress I promised to buy you and don't worry about the dress; I'll deliver it to your office😘" with a smiley face and heart emoji. Seriously, she's now resorting to blackmail, I thought, my mouth open and eyes widened in shock. Well, now I have to meet him; I can't afford to lose that dress. I had convinced her to buy it for me after a lot of effort.
Exactly at 3 PM, she delivered the dress. I opened the package to find a white suit inside. Not again... Gosh, I'm so tired of wearing the same outfit for these meetings. According to my mother, this suit makes me look "modest" and, to quote her exact words, "wife material," along with oxidized Jhumkas and a lipstick. Yes, you heard me right-a freaking lipstick. For heaven's sake, I'm not getting married! I put the suit on my desk and got back to completing my work.
I had booked a cab that arrived right on time, exactly at 3:30 PM. Normally, it would take about half an hour to reach the café, even with traffic, but today was different because it was raining. I was secretly hoping the rain would be so heavy that it would block all the roads, giving me an excuse to skip this meeting. Unfortunately, I was just late. Due to the rain and traffic, it took me 45 minutes to get there.
As I walked toward the café, my heart started pounding faster. "It's okay, Aashi. You can do this. Just meet him, drink coffee, waste an hour, and then you can reject him and go back home," I reassured myself as I approached the table. I saw him in a black suit, the blazer draped over the chair, and the suit fitting his muscular shoulders, with his shirt rolled up to reveal his veins.
"Stop, stop, stop... What are you doing, Aashi?" I thought, trying to focus. I stood in front of him and said, "Hi, this is Aashi."
