When Aarav Kapoor, a shrewd businessman born into wealth, and Aanya Mehra, an ambitious architect returning to India, are thrust into an arranged marriage, neither is prepared for the secrets beneath their union. What begins as a reluctant compromis...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The grand room was eerily silent, save for the soft rustle of the lehenga as I moved. I stood before the large antique mirror, struggling with the clasp of my necklace. My fingers fumbled, sore from the weight of the heavy jewellery I had been wearing all day. The loneliness in this vast mansion pressed down on me like a suffocating weight, and a lump began to form in my throat.
I bit my lip, willing myself not to cry. Not now, Aanya. You're stronger than this.
Just as I was about to give up, I felt a warm hand on the nape of my neck. My breath hitched, and I froze. I looked up into the mirror, and there he was—Aarav. His eyes met mine, a flicker of something unspoken passing between us.
"Let me," he said quietly, his voice low and calm.
I couldn't muster a word, my heartbeat roaring in my ears. Slowly, his fingers brushed against my skin as he unclasped the necklace. The coolness of his touch sent shivers down my spine, contrasting sharply with the warmth spreading across my cheeks.
He worked silently, his focus unwavering. One by one, he removed my bangles, the soft clink of glass echoing in the quiet room. When he reached for my earrings, his fingers grazed my jawline, lingering just a moment longer than necessary.
I glanced at him through the mirror. His expression was unreadable—focused, intense, but not cold. There was something about the way he moved, deliberate yet gentle, that left me breathless.
When he finally stepped behind me to untie the string of my blouse, my entire body stiffened. His hands paused for a moment as though waiting for my protest, but none came. The knot loosened with a single pull, and the fabric slackened against my shoulders.
"I'll... I'll manage the rest," I stammered, my voice trembling. I moved to leave, needing air, space, anything to regain control of myself. But before I could take another step, Aarav's hand encircled my wrist, stopping me in my tracks.
He turned me to face him, his dark eyes boring into mine. For a moment, the world seemed to tilt, and all I could hear was the sound of my racing heart.
"Aanya..." His voice was softer now, almost vulnerable, "Running away isn't the answer anymore."
Before I could react, he cupped my face, his thumb brushing against my cheek. Slowly, as if testing the waters, he leaned in. My breath caught, and time seemed to stand still as the space between us disappeared.
He didn't kiss me, but his forehead rested against mine, our breaths mingling. It was as if he was searching for something, a connection, an answer, or maybe just comfort in this strange union.
But then, the sharp ring of his phone shattered the moment. Aarav pulled away abruptly, his hand falling from my face as if the spell had been broken. Aarav exhaled sharply, his jaw tightening as he pulled away.
"I have to take this," he muttered, his voice back to its usual clipped tone. Without another word, he grabbed his phone from the table and strode out of the room, leaving me standing there, heart pounding and cheeks flushed.
