Manik: "Life doesn't come with choices; it comes with responsibilities. You live it on your terms or get buried under someone else's."
Nandini: "Love is a word people use too lightly, a hollow promise made to be broken. I've never believed in it, an...
Between the vows and the rituals, their hearts remained silent spectators to a story that hadn’t even begun.
Nandini’s POV,
The faint sunlight streaming through the curtains woke me up, and the dull throbbing in my head reminded me of the previous night's chaos. I sat up slowly, my fingers pressing against my temples as I tried to shake off the lingering headache. Memories of the panic attack flooded back—the heaviness in my chest, the suffocating fear, and then, the unexplained impulse to call him.
Manik.
I still couldn’t understand why I had called him. In all these years, I’d never reached out to anyone not even Abhimanyu during my moments of weakness. I had learned to handle myself. Yet last night, something was different. And what surprised me even more was how calmly he handled it. No complaints, no unnecessary questions—just his steady voice guiding me through.
“Why did I do that?” I muttered to myself, running a hand through my hair. “And why didn’t he react like others would? No judgment, no irritation…”
I shook my head, brushing the thoughts aside. Today was not the day to dwell on confusing feelings. It was my wedding day, and like every other life decision, this one wasn’t mine to make.
Glancing at the clock, I realized I had no time to waste. The chooda ceremony was scheduled for the morning. I dragged myself out of bed, forcing my mind to focus on the tasks. After a quick shower, I slipped into a simple blue suit.
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As I walked downstairs, I saw Ansh playing with Abhimanyu on the floor. The sight brought a faint smile to my lips. Ansh’s laughter echoed through the hall, momentarily easing the tension in my chest.
I sat down beside them, leaning my head against Abhimanyu’s shoulder. He immediately turned to me, concerned etched on his face. “Babydoll, you okay?”
I nodded, though the dull ache in my head persisted. “Just a headache,” I murmured.
Prisha Bhabhi appeared then, holding a cup of steaming filter coffee. “Here,” she said, handing it to me. “Drink this quickly. We need to start the ceremony soon.”
“Thanks,” I said, gratefully taking the cup. The rich aroma of the coffee was comforting, and I took slow sips, hoping it would ease my headache.
Once I was done, she ushered us all toward the backyard, where the chooda ceremony was set up. The area was beautifully decorated with marigold garlands and white drapes, the soft morning light adding a golden hue to everything.
My mama (maternal uncle) was waiting for me, holding the traditional red and ivory bangles. Bhabhi came up behind me, covering my eyes with her hands as per the tradition. “No peeking,” she teased, her voice light.
I chuckled softly. As Mama slid the bangles onto my wrists, I felt a strange mix of emotions. A white cloth was tied over them, concealing them from view.
