The Unexpected

06. Sweetheart & Darling

I looked in the mirror, and a reflection of a bride stared back at me, a vision I once dreamed of as a little girl. I used to drape my nanny's dupatta over my head, pretending it was my wedding day, imagining the joy of being a beautiful bride, cherished by a husband who would love me forever. I was just seven, naïve, full of hope, and too young to understand the weight that came with those dreams.

But as I grew older, reality set in, and that innocent fantasy of marriage turned into something I despised. The day I found out my grandfather had fixed my marriage to a man much older than me—on the very day I was born—my heart shattered. My dreams of a loving husband and a wedding that was mine, all mine, were nothing more than illusions.

Each day since, I felt like an outsider in my own home. Every decision I made seemed to revolve around what my future in-laws might think or accept. My entire existence was being shaped, not for me, but for a stranger. I was expected to mould myself into someone else's idea of perfection, to become a woman I didn't even recognize—all for a man I had never met.

And this is why I nurtured a deep resentment towards my future husband and his family. I hated them long before I even knew them. So when Saransh stood before me and declared that I had to marry him no matter what, it set my soul on fire. It was as if he had crushed every last hope I had under his feet. Though, deep down, I knew those hopes had been destroyed long ago, the moment my grandfather sealed my fate with a marriage alliance.

I never thought this day would come so soon. Just three months ago, Saransh and his family came to formally ask for my hand in marriage. Not that they needed to. If Saransh had demanded, my parents would have handed me over on a golden platter without hesitation. I remember the priest's look after he announced the wedding date—how my parents had clearly bribed him to give the earliest possible date. They couldn't wait to get rid of me, their burden, once and for all.

And yet, Saransh's family—well, they seem lovely. Genuine, kind-hearted, probably the nicest people I've ever met. How such a rotten apple fell so far from that tree, I will never understand. How could a family of the sweetest souls produce someone like him? It's almost comical. Maybe he's adopted.

I take another glance at myself in the mirror. The red lehenga wraps around me perfectly, as if it was crafted for my body alone. The heavy jewelry hangs from my neck, elegant but weighing me down, the maang teeka and nose pin giving my face an ethereal glow. I look like a queen, every inch of me draped in royal beauty. But no matter how exquisite the bride looks today, inside, I feel nothing—just a vast, empty silence.

A knock on the door pulls me from my swirling thoughts. I catch a final glimpse of myself in the mirror, inhaling deeply before I go to answer. My brothers step into the room, their faces a reflection of emotions I can barely hold together. I might break down right here.

"You look pretty," Yuvaan says quietly. I stare at him, tears threatening to spill. In his twenty years of existence, this boy has never once complimented me like this.