I stepped out of the shower, my head still swimming from the weight of today. I grabbed a white shirt and beige trousers
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
-something simple, straightforward. I didn't bother thinking too much about it. I buttoned up, trying to ignore the gnawing feeling in my chest. Then, just as I was settling into the quiet, I got the call from my father. He told me to come downstairs, and I knew it was time.
We got into the car-my father, Samaira, Ayaan, and me. The ride was suffocating, even though no one said a word. I had no idea where we were headed, but something didn't feel right. I just couldn't place it yet. I tried to distract myself, focus on the road, but the unease was there, creeping under my skin.
When the car finally stopped, I stepped out and felt the world tilt.
I knew this place.
My chest tightened as I stared at the mansion, the memory rushing back. This was the house where I'd dropped Mr. Sharma and his daughter. Fuck. I felt everything inside me freeze. Was this really happening? Am I marrying her? My mind went blank for a second, and then it all came together-why my father went to pick her up, why he'd been acting so damn friendly lately.
Of course.
It made too much sense now, but that didn't stop the wave of frustration from crashing over me. How had I not seen this? I clenched my fists, trying to keep calm, but my mind was racing. The dots connected faster than I could keep up.
And now, here I was, standing in front of her house, about to walk into something I wasn't prepared for. How was I supposed to face her? Does she even know? My stomach twisted at the thought. All I could do was stare at the mansion, feeling trapped, knowing there was no way out of this.
Anaya's pov
Mumma already told me that the groom's family is coming I am not excited but I am not sad even I know whats coming and I wont be able to handle that but I cant be sad for this long so I decided to get read
I slipped into an off-white anarkali, the fabric soft against my skin. The delicate embroidery and lace detailing at the hem made me feel a bit more put together, a little more like myself. I draped the matching dupatta over my shoulders, letting it fall gracefully, trying to channel some inner calm.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
