Maa turned to me. "Riya beta, go outside and bring the flowers from the garden. And if you see him, bring him along with you." I nodded, clutching the thali a little tighter, and stepped out toward the garden. He was nowhere in sight. Shrugging it off, I bent down to lift the large basket of flowers placed near the parking area. The tiny blooms felt impossibly heavy. As I struggled, the sharp edge of the basket nicked my wrist - hidden beneath the soft folds of my dupatta. Great. If anyone notices, I'm doomed. Ignoring the sting, I stepped onto the marble path cutting through the grass - and lost my balance. "Whoa-" Before I could fall, strong arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me back. My breath hitched. Time stopped. The world went silent - no birds, no distant traffic, no rustling leaves. There he was. Dhruv Rathore. Standing so close I could feel his warmth, his steady presence grounding me. The boy my heart had never quite let go of - even after four long years - was holding me in his arms. He looked exactly how memory had preserved him. Calm. Composed. Effortlessly commanding. And then reality crashed into me. He's my sister's devar. ✨A slow-burn romance set against the chaos of an Indian wedding, filled with family drama, soft moments, and emotions that refuse to stay hidden. ✨ #1 in rituals🌸✨🎀(3/02/2026)