After the roka, I walked to my room, my legs feeling as though they were made of stone. The door closed behind me with a soft click, and I leaned against it, the weight of the evening settling upon my shoulders. The rituals for the wedding had started, and with each passing moment, I felt like I was sinking deeper into a sea of confusion and pain.
I couldn't stop the tears. They came unbidden, each drop carrying the weight of everything I had been trying to ignore, trying to suppress. But the truth was there, sitting heavy in my chest. What was missing was my smile. What was missing was a part of me-Ash.
I squeezed my eyes shut, but his image only became clearer. His dark, possessive gaze, his rough touch, his voice both terrified and comforted me. He had shattered me, not with his cruelty, but with his betrayal. The devil he hid from me, the Mafia King, the man whose world was drenched in blood and power.
And now, here I was, engaged to someone else. Someone who was kind, someone who could give me the stability I had always craved. But stability wasn't what my heart needed. My heart still belonged to the man who had kept the truth from me. I had no choice now. I had to let go, to move on, even though every fiber of my being screamed that I couldn't.
I wiped the tears away, forcing myself to breathe. I couldn't stay lost in my grief. Megha and her family had done so much for me. I owed it to them, to their kindness, to at least try to be what they hoped for me. They had given me everything when I had nothing. How could I betray that?
With a shaky breath, I looked at the pendant around my neck. His gift, the only thing left from him. The weight of it, the reminder of everything I couldn't have, felt like a silent mockery of my current life. I had agreed to this-this engagement, this wedding-because I had no other option.
But deep down, in the quiet places where no one could hear, I knew that no one would ever replace Ash. He had marked me in ways no one else ever could.
The days passed in a blur, and soon the wedding functions began. Mehendi, Haldi, the pre-wedding celebrations that were meant to be filled with joy and laughter. But all I felt was a hollow ache that seemed to deepen with each passing ceremony.
The mehendi was first. Megha and her family were buzzing with excitement as they helped me sit down for the intricate designs to be drawn on my hands. The smell of henna filled the room, but it only made my stomach churn. I smiled, forcing it, as Megha's mother praised how beautiful my hands looked. They were all so happy, so eager for this new chapter of my life to begin.
But inside, I was numb.
The colors on my palms seemed to mock me-deep reds and browns, the stain of a future I couldn't accept. I watched Megha's hands as they were decorated with a similar design, and for a moment, I envied her. She was happy, truly happy. I wasn't.
Haldi came next. I stood in the center of the room, surrounded by the bright yellow paste that was smeared on my skin in a ritual of good luck. The laughter, the playful teasing, the colorful clothes... it was all a part of the tradition, the celebration of a new beginning. And yet, it felt like a funeral to me. Every touch, every laugh, felt like a distant echo.
I knew I was supposed to feel something-excitement, joy, anticipation. But all I could feel was the absence of him. Ash. His absence was the only thing real to me now. Every time I looked at the people around me, smiling and celebrating, I could see the lie in my own reflection. The lie that I was happy, that I was moving on.
I played my part. I smiled when needed, laughed when the moment called for it, and went through each function like a puppet on a string. But inside, I was drowning in a sea of what-ifs and could-have-beens. Ashtram was the one I truly wanted, the one who had consumed me in ways I didn't understand, the one I could never forget, no matter how hard I tried.
The Haldi ceremony ended, and I was ushered into another room to change for the next ritual. The laughter and chatter of the guests were distant, muffled by the roar in my own head. My heart was breaking with each step I took, but I had no choice. I had to keep moving, keep pretending.
This wasn't the life I had imagined for myself. But it was the life I was being forced to live.
And so, I smiled. For them. For Megha. For the family that had taken me in when I had no one else.
But deep down, I knew the truth: no matter how many functions I attended, no matter how many happy faces surrounded me, I would never be truly happy without Ash.
Wedding Day
Today is my wedding day. The day I had always envisioned as a dream come true. Yet, as I sit in front of the mirror, dressed in the bridal lehenga, I can't shake the heaviness in my heart. The intricate designs of the lehenga, the heavy jewelry, the red and gold that should have made me feel like a queen-it all felt like a costume. A mask I had to wear, hiding the pain inside me.
I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror-eyes red from crying, lips forced into a smile that didn't reach my heart. My reflection stared back at me, but it wasn't me. It was a woman on the verge of an irreversible decision, one that would lock her into a life that wasn't hers.
A soft knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts. I turned to see Megha standing there, her expression softening when she saw me.
"Niru," she said quietly, stepping into the room. "You okay?"
I forced a smile, but it was shaky, barely there. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... getting ready."
She walked toward me, her eyes scanning my face, as though she could see right through the mask I was wearing. "You know, I know you, Niru. I can see it in your eyes. You're not happy. You're just... going through the motions."
I sighed, my heart aching as I looked at her. She knew me too well. She had always been there, like a sister. How could I explain what I was feeling without breaking her heart? "It's just... a lot, Megha," I whispered, my voice trembling. "I never wanted this. I never imagined my wedding day would be like this."
Megha sat beside me on the vanity chair, her hand gently squeezing mine. "I know. But you're not alone, Niru. You don't have to do this for anyone but yourself. If you want to walk away, if this isn't what you want... you don't have to go through with it."
I looked at her, the tears welling up in my eyes once again. "I have no choice, Megha," I choked out. "This isn't just about me anymore. I've already made my decision, and there's no turning back. I have to do this."
She bit her lip, clearly struggling with my words. "But you deserve to be happy too, Niru. This isn't the life you wanted. Don't settle for it, please."
"I can't go back now," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "I can't undo what's been done."
Megha stood up and walked toward the door, pausing as she glanced back at me. "I'll be right here, Niru. And whatever you decide, know that I'm with you."
I nodded, forcing a smile that didn't reach my heart. She gave me one last sad look before stepping out of the room, closing the door softly behind her.
The silence in the room felt suffocating as I stared at my reflection once more. I was no longer the girl I had once been.
And now, here I was, dressed in bridal finery, ready to marry a man who was not Ashtram. A man who would never make my heart race the way his presence did, who would never make me feel alive the way Ashtram had.
The man I was about to marry was a stranger, someone I didn't love, but someone who was kind, good, and respectable. But he wasn't him. He would never be.
I closed my eyes, trying to steady the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me. I had no choice. Ashtram had shattered me by keeping his Mafia devil identity from me, and now I had to live with the consequences.
I forced myself to take a deep breath, standing up and adjusting the heavy lehenga, determined to carry on with the facade. The ceremony awaited, and I had no choice but to play my part.
After a while, I found myself walking towards the Asele with heavy, reluctant steps, my heart sinking deeper with every footfall. The wedding rituals were already underway, and there, in front of me, sat my groom behind the sehra, his face concealed. Arhan Mehta. He was a good man, and yet, all I could think about was Ashtram. The man I could never fully erase from my heart, no matter how much I tried. The man I had loved, the man who had shattered me by hiding his true identity from me.
As I approached the Asele, I could feel the weight of the crowd's gaze upon me, their expectations like chains binding me to this moment. I sat beside Arhan, my hands trembling as I placed them in his, trying to hold myself together. My fingers curled into his, but my heart was still miles away, lost in the memories of Ashtram-his intensity, his touch, the way he had looked at me as if I was the only thing that mattered.
The priest began the ritual, his voice sounding distant, as though coming from a place far away. I repeated the vows and chants, my lips moving without truly hearing them. Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision, but I fought to keep them in check. A tear slipped down my cheek as I silently prayed for it all to end.
Each step of the ceremony felt like a reminder of what I was leaving behind-the life I thought I could have had, the love I could have known. I looked at Arhan, but the emptiness in my chest only grew. I wasn't meant to be here, not with him. But what choice did I have?
As the priest continued, my mind kept returning to Ashtram. I remembered his touch, the way he had made me feel alive, the way his presence had burned into me. The pain of not being with him was unbearable, and yet I couldn't speak of it. I couldn't let anyone see what I was truly feeling.
My tears fell freely now, my body trembling with the effort to hold back the sobs that threatened to break free. But I couldn't let anyone see my weakness. I couldn't let them know how broken I felt inside. So, I kept my gaze lowered, hoping no one would notice.
As the priest's words echoed in the air, "Vivah sampurna huwa," I felt a strange sense of finality wash over me. But just as I was about to lose myself in the whirlwind of emotions, I heard a voice-deep and unmistakable-coming from behind the veil.
"Congratulations, wifey..."
I froze. My heart skipped a beat. It was a voice I hadn't expected to hear today. My eyes widened in disbelief as I slowly turned my head toward the source of the words, my breath catching in my throat.
It couldn't be...
The surprise lingered in the air, unanswered, as my mind raced to make sense of the moment.
Write a comment ...