Where is bride mr. Mehra his father asked?
There parents are looking down they don't have words to say to them that there daughter run away from her own marriage...
Sorry Raghuvanshi sahab mai aapke hath judta ho mujhe maaf karde .
Ab kuch nhi ho sa...
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The clinking of cutlery, the soft murmur of conversations, and the faint sound of the news playing in the background fill the dining hall. It’s a typical morning in our house—calm, familiar, and filled with the warmth of routine. I’m seated at the head of the table, sipping my black coffee, mind already mapping out the meetings and deals lined up for the day.
Then, like a spark in the quiet, her voice slices through the usual noise.
“Abhimanyu… will you come to pick me up from college today? Driver bhaiya isn’t coming.”
My hand freezes midair. The spoon clinks back into the bowl, forgotten. I glance sideways at her.
Anika.
The girl who sits on my left every day, eating silently, never asking for anything more than a napkin. She’s always kept a polite distance—never stepping beyond the invisible wall between us. And yet, here she is, looking straight into my eyes with a soft vulnerability that pulls something tight in my chest.
I try to school my features, but I know there’s a flicker of surprise in my eyes. Why today? Why now?
But I don’t question it. Instead, I let the warmth rush through me. It’s stupid—just a ride request. But the fact that she asked me? It feels like something deeper. Maybe I’m reading too much into it. Or maybe… she’s starting to trust me.
“Yes, of course,” I say, trying to keep my voice even, casual. “I’ll come.”
From the corner of my eye, I catch my mother smiling, her eyes darting between us with barely concealed curiosity. Dad hides his smirk behind the newspaper. Even the house help exchanges a knowing look. Great. Now we’re the morning entertainment.
But I don’t care. Not today.
I glance at her again. There’s a soft blush blooming on her cheeks as she focuses on her toast. I don’t think she realizes the effect she has on me—how a single sentence from her can send my heart into a sprint.
She finishes her breakfast quickly and stands up, adjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder. “I’ll go now. My class starts early today.”
I nod, watching her walk away. My day hasn’t even started, but my heart is already with her.
---
Hours pass. I’m at the office, stuck in back-to-back meetings. Numbers, charts, voices—none of it sticks. My mind drifts back to her. How she looked today. The way her fingers played with the rim of her cup when she asked me. Was it nerves? Hesitation?
I don’t know why, but the thought makes me smile.
I’m about to head into another conference call when my phone rings. I glance at the screen—an unknown number. I wouldn’t usually pick up, but something makes me answer.
