prologue

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Aarohi Goenka sat in her bridal lehenga, heart racing, hands trembling — not from nerves, but from something she couldn’t name.

The wedding was grand. The decorations perfect. The guests, excited.

The groom?

Missing.

Minutes ticked by like hours.

Then the whispers began. Then the silence. Then the news.

Abhimanyu Birla had married Akshara.

Not in secret — in front of everyone, at a second mandap, while Aarohi waited with dreams in her eyes and sindoor in her hand.

Humiliation. Betrayal. Silence.

The Goenkas looked away. The Birlas called it “destiny.”
No one fought for her. No one stood by her.

Aarohi didn’t scream. Didn’t cry.

She looked in the mirror, one last time, and said softly—

You turned me into ashes.
Now watch me rise and burn everything you called fate.

And with that, she walked away from the mandap.

Not as a rejected bride.

But as a woman ready to return — one day — on her own terms.




This story is short story after reading the story if anyone felt like reading extended version and a complete book , then let me know.





Thankyou 😊

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