Shivika's pov
Life is unpredictable, an intricate maze where a single second can shatter every plan you ever made and rebuild your world into something entirely unrecognizable.
​I was supposed to marry Yash. I had spent years picturing my future with him, imagining what it would feel like to step across the threshold of the Rathore mansion as his bride, wearing his name like a badge of love and certainty. I wanted that life. I wanted to become a daughter-in-law of this prestigious family through him.
​The universe, in its cruel sense of irony, technically granted my wish. I did become a Rathore daughter-in-law. But the man who tied the sacred thread around my neck was not the one I had prepared my heart for. Instead, fate bound me to the eldest son of the Rathores, a man whose very presence commands absolute authority and casts long, intimidating shadows across every corner of this house.
Right now, I am in his room. The sheer grandeur of the room felt suffocating. Polished dark wood, minimalist Italian furniture, and ambient ceiling lightsevery inch of the space practically screamed wealth, a stark reminder of the empire he commanded. We had been friends for years, yet I had never entered his room.
Every step forward felt like wading through deep water under the suffocating weight of my bridal lehenga. I crossed the floor on trembling legs and sank onto the edge of the plush king-sized bed, my gaze fixing blankly onto the floor.
How could life turn upside down in a single day?
A stray tear escaped, warm and bitter against my cheek. I wiped it away with trembling fingers, the knock on the door startling me back to reality and the next moment.
​Rudraksh walked in.
​I couldn't bring myself to meet his eyes. His gaze lingered on me for a fleeting, heavy second before he turned on his heel and walked straight into the adjoining washroom, shutting the door behind him. Left alone in the silence, I sat rooted to the mattress, overwhelmed by the sudden void between us.
What were we supposed to say? How were we supposed to exist in the same room without the easy banter that used to define us?
​A few minutes later, the soft click of the bathroom lock broke the stillness. He stepped out in a black t-shirt and grey lowers. A few damp strands of hair fell over his forehead.
​"You should change," his voice was surprisingly gentle, breaking the thick tension. "That lehenga must be suffocatingly heavy."
​You have no idea how heavy everything feels right now.
I gave a faint, mechanical nod and pushed myself up from the bed and hurried into the expansive walk-in closet. My suitcase already sat unpacked in the corner. My hands trembled as I unzipped the bag, pulled out my night suit and locked myself inside the bathroom, desperate to shed the weight of a wedding I had never anticipated.
The heavy bridal lehenga was gone, replaced by simple cotton clothes, but the suffocating weight on my chest hadn't lifted. I stepped out of the bathroom, the cool marble floor chilling the soles of my bare feet.
​He was sitting on one side of the bed, his broad back rigid as the glow of his phone illuminated the sharp, unyielding angles of his jaw. A knot tightened in my throat.What was I supposed to say to him? He had been forced into this marriage just as ruthlessly as I was. Caught in a storm he never asked for, tied to a bride who arrived shrouded in scandal and tears. I lacked the strength to face him, let alone meet his gaze.
Keeping my head down, I tiptoed toward the bed, reached for a pillow, and turned quietly toward the couch by the window.
​"What are you doing?" ​His deep, raspy voice sliced through the silence.
​I paused, clutching the pillow tightly against my chest like a shield.
What? Can't you see?
"I'm going to sleep on the couch."
For a moment, he said nothing. He slid his phone into his pocket, stood up, and closed the distance between us in a few long, quiet strides. Before I could protest, his fingers brushed against mine as he smoothly took the pillow from my grip.​
"If that's the case, you sleep on the bed," he said flatly, already turning toward the sofa. "I'll take the couch."​
"No, you don't have to do that," I protested, my voice faltering as I followed him with my eyes. "I mean...this is your room."
​He paused, turning his head to look directly into my eyes. His gaze was dark, intense, and completely unyielding.
"Our Room." he said, his tone firm, leaving zero room for argument. "Get some sleep, Shivi."
I didn't have the energy to argue so I just turn and walked over to the bed, and switched off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into soft shadows.
The mattress was soft, but sleep was miles away. My father's harsh voice kept echoing in my ears, followed immediately by the sting of Yash's sudden betrayal. How could he just vanish? How could he throw away years of promises in a single day and decided to leave me. A lone, burning tear slipped down my cheek and soaking into the pillow.
Why, Yash? Why did you do this to me? You could have at least talk to me once.
​My mind spun in circles of hurt and betrayal until the heavy silence of the night finally pulled me under into an exhausted sleep.
I groaned when sharp beam of morning sunlight hit my eyelids, forcing me awake. I sat bolt upright, my heart hammering in my chest as unfamiliar room came into focus.​
"Arre baap re...yeh kahan aa gayi main?"
Panic flared in my chest until the overwhelming rush of yesterday's memories hit me like a splash of ice water-the mandap, the heavy lehenga and the vows that tied me to Rudraksh. I turned my head toward the couch where he had slept last night, but it was empty.
​Where did he go so early? I caught myself wondering before immediately brushing the thought away. Par mujhe kya? Achha hi hai.
Pushing the soft duvet aside, I stepped onto the cold marble floor and made my way to the bathroom to finish my morning routine. Within half an hour, I draped saree around myself and sat in front of the vanity mirror, pinning my hair and applying minimal makeup. but just as I set the brush down, my gaze froze on the silver box sitting beside the perfumes.
​I picked up the sindoor box, my thumb brushing the cool metal.
Lagana padega kya?
Before I could answer my own question, the bedroom door swung open. He walked in, chest heaving slightly from what looked like an intense workout. He ran a hand through his damp, disheveled hair, his clingy white t-shirt damp with sweat and outlining the sharp, sculpted ridges of his abs.
​Hot...Shut up, Shivi!
​I scolded myself inwardly, catching his gaze in the mirror. He stopped in his tracks, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made the room feel suddenly smaller. For a heartbeat, there was something raw and unreadable simmering in his expression. Then, his eyes slowly drifted down to the silver box clutched tightly in my fingers.​
"Don't wear it if you don't want to," he said, his voice deep, raspy, and devoid of any demand. Without waiting for a response. He walked straight into the washroom, closing the door behind him.
I sat in the quiet room, staring down at the box. A part of me rebelled against the sudden turn my life had taken, but denying the truth wouldn't change it. Like it or not, I was his wife now.
​Taking a deep, steadying breath, I dipped my ring finger into the scarlet powder and filled my hairline in one smooth stroke. Setting the box down, I straightened my pallu and headed downstairs to face whatever the day had in store for me.
The living hall was empty. I think no one wake up yet so I turned and went to kitchen and there I found Rudraksh's Maa and Choti Maa already busy near the counter.
​Taking a deep, steadying breath to calm my fluttering nerves, I took their blessings.
​"Jeeti raho, beta," his maa murmured, placing a warm hand on my head. When I straightened up, she looked at me with soft concern. "Beta, why did you wake up so early?​"
"Exactly," His Choti Maa chimed in, wiping her hands on a small towel. "You must be exhausted, beta. Go back and get some sleep."
​"Nahi aunty, I'm fine." I replied politely.
​Both of them paused, their expressions shifting as slight frowns crossed their faces.
​Ab maine kya galat bol diya? My fingers twisted anxiously into the fabric of my saree.
Seeing my hesitation, their expression softened into an affectionate, tender smile. His mother took both my cold hands into hers.
"Beta...it would make me very happy if you called me Maa instead of aunty. You are our daughter now."
Oh. Ohhhh.
His Choti Maa stepped closer with a playful nudge to my shoulder. "Aur mujhe Choti Maa! Aunty keh kar paraya mat karo hume."
I forced a smile. "Ji."
Maa hesitated for a second, glancing toward choti maa before turning back to me, her tone was gentle.
"Beta, since you are already awake and freshened up...would you like to do your pehli rasoi this morning? Only if you want, there is no pressure at all."
​"I don't have any problem, Maa," I assured her sincerely. "I'd love to."
​"Bas thoda sa kuch meetha bana lo, okay? No need to prepare whole breakfast." Maa said with a warm smile.
​"Ji."​
Once they walked out to leave me to it, I let out a long breath and tied my pallu securely around my waist. Seeing the fresh, grated carrots and dry fruits kept ready in the pantry, I decided to make gajar ka halwa.
After some time, I garnished the warm halwa with slivered almonds, Choti Maa walked back in, her eyes lighting up instantly.
​"Arey wah! Khushbu toh bohot he achi aa rahi hai."
​"I hope everyone likes it."
​"Everyone is going to love it," she assured me warmly, before turning to call a helper. "Ramesh, yeh bowl dining table par laga do."
She placed an affectionate hand on my shoulder, guiding me out of the kitchen. Choti maa and I stepped into the dining hall, the rich aroma of ghee, spices, and warm halwa already filling the air. The dining table was already buzzing with chatter. Everyone was present-except him. Stepping forward, I took blessings from elders.
​"Oh ho, Bhabhi!" Surbhi chimed in, leaning across the table with wide, teasing eyes. "You are looking so beautiful today!​
I offered her a gentle smile. "Thank you, Surbhi, you are looking beautiful too."
A soft blush crept up her cheeks, but before she could speak, Aditya snorted into his orange juice. "Bhabhi, please don't lie everyone knows the truth."
​"Ouch! Hey!" Aditya hissed as Surbhi smacked his shoulder.
​A genuine smile tugged at my lips watching their banter. But the smile vanished in a fraction of a second when his voice cut through the laughter.
​"What is going on here?"
​My breath hitched. I didn't look up, but every nerve in my body registered his presence before he even reached the table.​
"Bhaiya, dekhiye na Adi bhai ko!" She complained, turning to him with an exaggerated pout. "He says I'm not looking beautiful."
​Rudraksh paused by her chair and gently ruffled her hair, a rare softness gracing his stern features. "Ignore him, baccha. You're looking like a princess."
​"Alright, that's enough, children," Maa chimed in, "Come, sit down and eat first. You can bicker all you want later."
​Chairs scraped against the marble floor as everyone took their places. I lingered behind, my fingers tightening around the edge of my pallu.
​Should I sit? Or should I serve first?
Maa noticed my hesitation and gestured warmly toward the table. "Shivika, beta, why are you standing there? Come, sit down and eat with us."
​"Ji, Maa," I murmured softly.
​My eyes scanned the long table, but my stomach dropped. The only vacant chair left was the one right beside him.
​Arrey yaar...
I took the empty seat, keeping my eyes firmly trained on my plate. The subtle scent of his cologne immediately enveloped me, heavy and suffocating.
​Breakfast proceeded in a warm blur of second helpings and pleasant conversation. When Maa passed around the fresh bowl of steaming gajar ka halwa, appreciative hums broke out around the table.​
"Bhabhi, this is absolute perfection," Aditya groaned, already digging in.
​"Seriously, Maa," Surbhi agreed eagerly. "If Yash Bhaiyya were here, he would have finished the entire bowl alone. It was his absolute fav-"
________________________________________
TO BE CONTINUED—
Write a comment ...