Anika Mehta 20 year old student gets married to her professor in unwanted way , shaurya malhotra 29 year old young professor was boyfriend of Anika's sister and professor.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I stood in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection. Today was the day I’d always known was coming — my engagement. But as I adjusted the blue kurta my mother had so carefully selected, all I could feel was the weight of my heart, dragging me down. This wasn’t just a piece of clothing. It felt like a noose tightening around my soul. I was getting engaged, but not to the one I desired — not to the one who had haunted my thoughts day and night. No. I was doing this for my family, for appearances. But at what cost?
I took a deep breath and made my way downstairs, where my family was buzzing with excitement. Everyone was glowing, as if this was some grand festival. But for me, it felt like a funeral of my own feelings. As we prepared to leave for the Mehta house, where I would become officially engaged to Kritika, I felt like a man walking toward his own execution.
Just then, Anaya, my little sister, came running toward me, her eyes shining. "Bhai, how am I looking?" she asked with a grin, spinning in her outfit. I forced a smile and replied, "Beautiful, as always!" But something was off. When she hugged me, her hold was tight, almost desperate. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes.
"Kya hua, Anaya?" I asked, cupping her face. "Tu ro kyun rahi hai?" Her lips quivered as she spoke, "Bhai, aapko kya ho gaya hai? Aapki aankhon mein woh chamak kahan chali gayi? Woh khushi kyun nahi dikh rahi?"
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. My little sister saw right through me. I wanted to deny it, to hide my emotions, but before I could respond, she dropped the bomb.
"Shaadi toh aapki ho rahi hai, Bhai. Lekin aapka dil kis ke paas hai? Anika ya Kritika?"
My heart stopped for a second. The name — Anika — left my lips before I could even think. "Anika," I whispered. But as soon as I realized what I had said, I snapped out of it and corrected myself, "I mean Kritika! Anika toh teri dost hai, student hai meri. Kahan se le aayi yeh pagalpan?" I tried to laugh it off, but the damage was done. Anaya had caught me red-handed.
"Bhai, maine aapki aankhon mein dekha hai. Aap Anika se pyaar karte ho!" she insisted, her voice trembling.
I clenched my jaw, my emotions on the verge of spilling over. "Anaya, chup ho ja. Ab kuch nahi ho sakta! Shaadi Kritika se hone wali hai, samajh gayi?" I didn't mean to snap at her, but the truth was suffocating me. I couldn’t bear to acknowledge it.
We reached the Mehta house after what felt like the longest car ride of my life. Kritika’s mother welcomed us with the traditional aarti and tilak, but I barely registered it. My mind was elsewhere. As the engagement preparations began, I forced myself to smile, to play the role of the perfect groom-to-be, even though my heart was in turmoil.
Then, amidst all the celebration, I saw her. Anika. Walking down the stairs beside Kritika, she was a vision in a simple blue saree, her elegance effortless, her beauty understated. My breath caught in my throat. For a moment, the room fell away, and it was just her. Every step she took seemed to draw me closer, even though I stood frozen in place. Why did she have to be here? Why did she have to look so... perfect?
