Aarohi woke up the next day to find the bed empty on the other side. It looked as though no one had slept there. She sighed at the sight and mumbled to herself, "Rudransh kal raat se ghar nahi aaye kya phir se?" The emptiness of the bed felt like a metaphor for the growing distance between them.
Taking her phone from the nightstand beside her bed, she hesitated for a moment, her thumb hovering over Rudransh's contact. She debated whether to call him, knowing he was likely busy with work. Eventually, she gathered the courage and made the call, but it went unanswered. The silence on the other end only deepened her worry. So, she typed a message to send to him, hoping for a quick response.
After sending the message, Aarohi decided to start her day. She chose her favorite blue saree, the one that always made her feel a little more confident. Standing in front of the mirror, she carefully applied vermillion in the parting of her hair, a daily ritual that connected her to her identity and her marriage. She looked at herself in the mirror, appreciating her natural beauty. Aarohi was not a fan of makeup; she believed that natural beauty was best. She rarely wore kajal or lipstick, preferring to keep her look simple and authentic.
Once she was ready, Aarohi checked her phone again for any messages. Seeing no response from Rudransh, she felt a pang of unease. He always responded to her messages, even if it was just a simple "ok" or "fine." The lack of any reply this time was unsettling, leaving her with a sense of foreboding. She couldn't shake off the feeling that something was amiss.
The memory of their wedding day often lingered in Aarohi’s mind like a bittersweet dream. It wasn’t the kind of day little girls imagined when they thought about their wedding. There were no grand declarations of love, no shared promises whispered in secret. It had been an event, an obligation fulfilled under the weight of tradition and familial pressure.
The ceremony had been extravagant, as one would expect from the Raghuvanshis, a family that wielded power and wealth like a second skin. Aarohi remembered the grandeur—the ornate decorations, the lavish floral arrangements, the glittering jewels adorning her, jewels that had felt heavy on her skin, as heavy as the future she was stepping into. But despite the beauty of it all, there had been a void. A void in the groom’s eyes, and a void in her heart.
She could still recall the look on Rudransh’s face that day, the way his jaw had been clenched, his posture rigid. He had looked at her as if she were a duty he had to fulfill, not a woman he was marrying. And maybe that’s exactly what she was to him—an obligation, forced upon him by his family.
**Flashback – The Proposal**
It had all started on a bright, sunny afternoon. Aarohi had been at the orphanage, helping the children with their afternoon lessons. She had always felt at home among the little ones—perhaps because they, like her, knew what it meant to be abandoned. The sound of their laughter as they worked through their schoolwork filled the room, a sweet melody that lifted her spirits.
“Aarohi Didi, look at my drawing!” one of the children had exclaimed, tugging at her sleeve.
She bent down, her eyes softening as she admired the child’s effort. “It’s beautiful, sweetheart,” she said, gently smoothing the little girl’s hair. “You’ve drawn the sun so bright, just like you.”
Unbeknownst to Aarohi, at that very moment, the Raghuvanshi women—Rudransh’s mother, grandmother, and aunt—had been watching her from the doorway. They were there for a charity event, and had stumbled upon the scene by accident. But what they saw left a lasting impression. They are frequently came to the orphanage and have remarkable the aarohi attitude and noticed her care and carefree nature to express and handle the children with an smile. That's what they decided their decision to make her their Raghuvanshi daughter in law.
