#Book 1 of HIS Series
Started On : August 2024
Completed On : [ONGOING]
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"When scars run deep, can love heal?
Meet two broken souls, hiding their agony behind masked smiles.
She has suffered unimaginable pain at the hands of someone she trusted.
...
Actually, I've had guests at home since Diwali... and you know how that goes 😅 Add Chhath Puja into the mix, and boom-total chaos! (And of course, being the eldest means I magically become the official event manager, cleaner, server, and problem-solver 😭🙂)
So yeah, updates got delayed, but I promise I haven't forgotten about you all.
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I stood in the lavish courtyard of the Rathore mansion, surrounded by vibrant marigolds, golden drapes fluttering in the breeze, and the endless laughter of relatives. The air smelled of turmeric, sandalwood, and sweet desperation. Today was the Haldi ceremony-a ritual meant for love, luck, and purification.
I, however, felt like a groom being slowly walked to the gallows.
Dressed in a magnificent yellow kurta with intricate silver embroidery, I looked every bit the picture-perfect dulha. But let's not pretend-I hated ceremonies, especially when the woman standing beside me wanted to set me on fire.
And speak of the devil...
And then she appeared.
Descending those stairs like she owned the world, in yellow and orange. Looking like sunshine dipped in sarcasm. Her jewellery jingled, but it was her eyes that caught me - sharp, burning, pissed.
Yep. There's my bride-to-be. Ready to kill me and look hot while doing it.
We locked eyes.
I smirked. "Ready to be tied down, sweetheart?"
She didn't even blink. "You're enjoying this trainwreck, aren't you?"
"Every second of your pain gives me life."
Our families, meanwhile, were living their best lives - dancing, singing, rubbing haldi on us like we were goddamn barfi. Someone shoved a handful of paste into my hand and gestured toward Vanshika.
I walked over and smeared the haldi across her cheek -gently, but not too. I wasn't in the mood.
"Shit. Motherfucking fuck," she muttered under her breath, flinching.
I grinned. "Ah yes, fuck indeed."
Her glare could've killed a grown man. Lucky for me, I was already dead inside.
The ceremony began, and chaos unfolded. Aunties howled traditional wedding songs off-key, cousins giggled, cameras clicked non-stop, and people took turns smearing turmeric on our faces like it was a holi match. Vanshika's cousins had a little too much fun painting her cheeks. She glared daggers at them, which only made them giggle harder.
