BOOK ONE OF THE SWEET AND SOUR SERIES
Vanya Sharma hated marriages. Growing up seeing troubled and failed marriages carved a bitter spot in her heart, especially when one of them belonged to her parents. While escaping the shadows of her past, she f...
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༘⋆🌷🫧💭₊˚ෆ
𝐓𝐮𝐦𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐤𝐚𝐩𝐝𝐨 𝐩𝐞 𝐚𝐛 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐪 𝐡𝐚𝐢
📓
It's early morning by the time we arrive at Oberoi Mansion. My eyes flutter shut every few seconds, but I fight to stay awake despite the bone-deep exhaustion creeping in. As the car stops, Mahir steps out first and comes around to open my door, extending his hand to help me out.
The world feels surreal as I take in the flurry of activities awaiting us—a row of staff showers the pathway with vibrant flower petals as we walk toward the main entrance. Sonakshi Aunty stands there with aarti thali in hand, her smile warm and welcoming. Beside her, Moksh flashes an exaggerated thumbs-up in my direction, earning a sharp glare from Mahir.
"Beta, welcome to your new home," Aunty says after circling the aarti around us thrice.
I smile politely as she places a tika on my forehead.
"Time to kick the kalash now," Sonakshi Aunty instructs.
The silver pot sits neatly by the doorway, filled with rice, a symbol of abundance and blessings. I glance at Mahir, who nods slightly, signalling me to go ahead. Kicking it gently, I watch as grains scatter across the floor. My red-tainted feet touch the pristine white cloth laid out, leaving delicate crimson imprints with every step—a poignant reminder of this massive change in my life.
Over the next few hours, I'm whisked from one ceremony to another. Some rituals involve Mahir, who stays by my side through them all—stoic and composed. Others are just for me, and during these, I catch glimpses of him waiting at a distance, watching with that unreadable expression of his.
Finally, I think I'll get a moment of peace as I sit down. But no. Apparently, there's another ritual waiting for us.
"The rings!" Moksh announces gleefully, holding up a silver dish filled with milk, flower petals, and vermillion. "Find the ring, rule the house!"
"Rule the house?" I arch an eyebrow.
"Yes," Moksh confirms with far too much enthusiasm. "Whoever wins this determines who's in charge."
Mahir, standing beside me, scoffs. "This is ridiculous. We don't need to—"
"Oh, you definitely do," his mother cuts him off, and he sighs, accepting his fate.
Moksh stifles a laugh as Sonakshi Aunty gestures for us to start. My fingers plunge into the lukewarm milk, and I'm determined not to let him have this win. Our hands bump as we frantically search through the mixture, earning a competitive glare from him.
"Found it!" he announces smugly, holding up the first ring.
"Beginner's luck," I retort, diving in again before the next round begins.
