Destiny For Unlikely Vows

Chapter 7: Destiny for Unlikely Vows

The soft rustling of wedding saris and murmurs of excitement filled the small yet exquisitely decorated Sanman Beach Resort. Riya's heart was racing, but not out of the usual bridal jitters. No, hers was a mix of dread and suffocating realization. As she neared the mandap, where her soon-to-be husband stood waiting, she had no idea the storm that awaited her.

She had barely taken a step onto the platform when she heard Amit's voice, "Riya, congratulations!" His cheerful tone grated against the unease she felt bubbling up inside her. Reflexively, she lifted her gaze and her eyes landed on him - Agastya Rathore. Her mind raced, trying to place the man in front of her, and then, like a flash of lightning, it hit her. The boy from her past. The nightmare she had buried deep. The one she had clashed with in school, and the one who had made her life unbearable for years.

Her breath caught in her throat as her face drained of color. A wave of horror washed over her. She froze, her instinct screaming to run, to flee from this disastrous union. Her body moved before she could think, turning to bolt away from the mandap. But as she spun around, she caught sight of her grandparents, their hopeful eyes on her, their frail forms blocking her escape. The weight of familial expectations bore down on her, shackling her in place. She couldn't run. There was no escape.

Agastya, who had been watching her every move, clenched his fists at his sides. His memory of their turbulent past came crashing back, reigniting a flame of bitterness within him. Yet, for a fleeting moment, his gaze softened as he took in the woman before him. Riya had changed. She was no longer the awkward, insecure girl he had once tormented. She was a vision, stunning in her bridal lehenga, her presence commanding, yet delicate. His momentary admiration was short-lived, however, as the bitterness within him quickly extinguished any admiration he felt.

**"What a waste,"** he thought, a cruel smirk tugging at his lips. **"She may have bloomed into this beauty, but she's still the same girl who dared to humiliate me. And now, she's going to suffer for it."**

Namrata Rathore, Agastya's grandmother, beckoned Riya to take her place beside her grandson. Riya hesitated, her feet feeling like lead. Her cousin, perhaps sensing her hesitation, nudged her forward, causing her to stumble slightly. Agastya's reflexes were quick, and he caught her by the arm, his grip firm but icy. As he steadied her, he leaned in, his voice a low whisper that sent a chill down her spine.

**"You're going to pay for your cleverness, Curie. Welcome to hell,"** he murmured darkly, using the nickname that had once stung her to the core.

Riya's heart thundered in her chest, a full-blown panic taking over. She felt as though she couldn't breathe, like the walls of the mandap were closing in on her. A single tear escaped her eye, but she wiped it swiftly before anyone could notice, determined not to show her weakness. She felt utterly trapped, standing beside the man who seemed intent on making her life a living hell.

The priest, unaware of the tension crackling between the couple, began the sacred chants. The fire in the middle of the mandap crackled softly, a stark contrast to the storm of emotions brewing inside Riya and Agastya. As the rituals commenced, Riya felt like she was drifting through the motions, her mind numb to the words being spoken. Her destiny, it seemed, was sealed.

With each step around the fire, Riya's thoughts spiraled. **"How did I end up here? How am I marrying him of all people?"** But the vows were spoken, the mangalsutra tied, and the sindoor applied. Every moment felt like a blur, except for the chilling presence beside her-the man who held a grudge that had festered for years.

Agastya, though maintaining a stoic face, could not stop the swirl of emotions within him. Part of him was calculating, already mapping out how to keep Riya at arm's length, planning to remove her from his life the first chance he got. Yet, another part of him was caught off guard by the woman standing beside him-the same woman who had once been his rival now stood as his wife.

Riya, who once dreamed of a small but joyful wedding filled with love and traditional rituals, was now bound in an empty, emotionless ceremony. The life she had imagined was slipping away before her eyes, and in its place stood a dark, uncertain future.

As the final prayers were uttered, and the priest declared them husband and wife, Riya felt her heart sink. She had married Agastya Rathore, the man who once made her life unbearable, the man who now promised to bring her nothing but pain. With her heart heavy and her future uncertain, Riya whispered silently to herself, **"What now?"**

The fire flickered, casting shadows on their faces as if reflecting the tumultuous path that lay ahead.

This was no ordinary wedding. It was the beginning of their destiny-unlikely vows bound by bitterness, hatred, and a past they couldn't escape.
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