Tujhko Jo Paaya.

Chapter 4 Uncharted Territory

The first night of our marriage was supposed to be a moment of intimacy-a time for us to begin our journey together as husband and wife. But as the hours passed, I found myself sitting on the edge of the plush bed, feeling more alone than I ever had. The excitement of the Chaudhury household buzzed in the air outside, but inside this room, I was trapped in a bubble of uncertainty.

Ahan had received a call earlier that evening, and though the conversation had been brief, it left him tense. He'd stepped out into the night, telling me he'd be back soon. But as the minutes turned into hours, unease settled like a stone in my stomach. This was our first night together, and he wasn't even here.

I glanced around the room, taking in the elegant decor-the soft light casting gentle shadows on the walls, the delicate embroidery of my lehenga still hugging my body. Everything looked perfect, yet it felt hollow. I was in a stranger's home, and the weight of my new reality pressed down on me, heavier than I'd expected.

When Ahan finally walked through the door, I caught my breath. His face was etched with weariness, his brows furrowed as though he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. But when our eyes met, there was a flicker of something-was it regret? Frustration? I couldn't tell.

"Where were you?" I asked, my voice soft, though the anxiety swirling inside me was palpable.

"I had to take care of something," he replied curtly, running a hand through his hair. He looked drained, and I felt a pang of sympathy. But I also felt a wall forming between us.

"I was waiting," I said, trying to convey the hurt I felt. "I thought-"

He cut me off, his tone sharper than I expected. "Don't expect anything from me, Samira. This isn't what you think it is."

His words hit me like a slap, the sting lingering. I blinked, trying to keep my composure. "What do you mean?" I asked, barely able to keep the tremor from my voice.

He sighed, running a hand down his face in frustration. "I don't want to lead you on. We're not going to have the kind of relationship you're hoping for. Not now. Maybe not ever."

My heart sank. I had hoped, naively perhaps, that marriage might bring us closer, that we might build something real. But here he was, shutting down the possibility before it could even start. "You're saying this on our wedding night?" I couldn't keep the hurt from my voice.

"Look, I didn't ask for this either. I told you everything before the wedding, didn't I?" he shot back, his frustration evident. "I'm still dealing with... everything." His voice softened, his gaze dropping. "You need to understand. I'm not over her. She was everything to me."

The couldn't mention of her name, he can't take her name that hurts him..it sent a cold wave through me, like a shadow cast over us both. I had known about her, his first love, but hearing him say this on my face, knowing how much he still grieved for her-it felt like I was competing with a ghost. "I know you told me everything, and I agreed," I said quietly, my heart aching. "But I'm not her."

"No, you're not," he whispered, his voice laced with sorrow. "But you're also not going to be my escape."

I felt tears prickling at the back of my eyes. This wasn't how I imagined my wedding night-cold, distant, and full of heartache. "I don't want to be your escape, Ahan," I said softly. "I just... I want us to try. We're in this together, whether we like it or not."

He looked at me then, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of something-understanding, maybe?

But it vanished just as quickly, replaced by the guarded expression he always wore.

"I need space," he said flatly, and just like that, the moment was gone. He turned and walked out of the room, leaving me sitting on the edge of the bed, alone.

I stared at the door for a long time after he left, feeling a wave of emotions crash over me-fear, loneliness, the aching need for connection. This was not how I had imagined my life would be, and I couldn't shake the feeling that this marriage was going to be far more complicated than I ever thought.

I lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. The weight of my new reality pressed down on my chest like a heavy stone. Ahan wasn't ready to be my husband, and I wasn't sure if I was ready to be his wife. What had I gotten myself into?

---

The next day, the Chaudhury house was alive with chatter and celebration. I found myself slipping into the background, watching the family's laughter and animated conversations from afar. Ahan's cousins, full of life and energy, darted around the house, sharing jokes and teasing one another.

I sat quietly, feeling out of place. My thoughts drifted back to the night before, to Ahan's cold words. The contrast between the lively family and the cold distance in my marriage felt like an unbearable weight.

"Samira!" Nikita, Ahan's cousin, called out, breaking me from my reverie. She was bright-eyed and full of enthusiasm, always the life of any room she walked into. "Come join us!"

I forced a smile, standing up and walking over to the group. I couldn't say no, even though my heart felt heavy. "It's so good to have you as part of the family now!" Nikita beamed, wrapping an arm around me.

"Thank you," I said softly, though her warmth only reminded me of the cold I felt in my new marriage.

"Isn't everything just perfect?" Nikita continued. "Ahan and you-such a beautiful couple!"

I swallowed hard, unsure of how to respond. "Yes, it's all... very nice," I managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper. My gaze shifted toward the empty hallway, wondering when Ahan would return, but dreading it at the same time.

As the night wore on, the laughter around me only made my isolation more pronounced. I excused myself, retreating to the bedroom that now felt like both a sanctuary and a prison. I sat at the edge of the bed, feeling the weight of my lehenga against my skin, the delicate fabric now a reminder of the heaviness in my heart.

Hours passed, and finally, the door creaked open. Ahan stepped inside, looking more exhausted than ever. His shoulders were slumped, and his face carried the weariness of someone fighting battles far deeper than anyone could see.

"Hey," I said quietly, breaking the silence between us.

"Hey," he replied, his voice hoarse.

There was a long pause before I spoke again. "How was the meeting?"

"Long," he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. His gaze met mine, and for a moment, there was something unguarded in his expression-vulnerability, maybe?

"I'm sorry I left you alone," he said, a hint of guilt in his voice. "I didn't want to-"

"It's okay," I interrupted, trying to keep my tone light. "I understand. You have responsibilities."

Ahan studied me for a moment, his gaze softening. "I didn't mean to hurt you last night. I'm just... I'm not ready for this."

"I know," I whispered. "I don't expect anything from you."

For the first time, his defenses seemed to falter. He sat down beside me on the bed, close but not close enough. The space between us felt like miles, yet I could feel the warmth of his presence.

"Can we take this one day at a time?" I asked, my voice soft but firm. "I'm not asking for much, Ahan. Just... let's take it slow."

He looked at me, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of understanding in his eyes. "Okay," he said after a long pause. "One day at a time."

I nodded, feeling a tiny spark of hope. It wasn't much, but it was something. Maybe, just maybe, we could find a way through this tangled mess together.

As we sat there in the quiet of the night, the noise of the outside world faded away. All that remained was the fragile understanding between us-two strangers, trying to navigate the unfamiliar terrain of a marriage neither of us had been ready for.

And so, the journey began. One step at a time.