It's my wedding Today .

Yes... My wedding.

And that too with a man I have only ever seen in photographs... someone I have never met, never spoken to. Someone with whom I am supposed to spend an entire lifetime-without even knowing what that life will look like.

After that argument, Mom and Dad didn't let me step out of the house even once.

It's not like I gave up quietly. I tried-again and again-to leave, to at least meet him once, to talk to him... but nothing worked.

On the other hand, when I did a background check on my would-be husband, I realized exactly what kind of family I was about to step into. And somehow... against my own will, my heart gave in to this marriage.

And no, money is not the reason here.

The reason is something far deeper... something no one knows.

The Oberoi family has no idea that I, Myra Srivastava, am entering their house with a purpose of my own.

As for Viraat Oberoi...

I'll decide what to do with him once I'm there. I don't expect anything good from him anyway. He's probably just like the rest of them-misogynistic.

But I'm not afraid.

Not of him.

Not of anyone.

🌺

I didn't even realize when the day quietly slipped into the night.

After getting me ready, they made me sit alone in a room. At any moment now, someone could come from downstairs to call me.

My heart was restless... anxious about what was waiting for me ahead.

Unable to sit still, I got up and walked toward the window. Outside, the entire baarat was dancing in celebration.

Just by looking at it, I could tell how extravagant this wedding was. The Oberoi family was incredibly wealthy... so much so that sometimes I found myself questioning-why didn't they choose some high-profile, elite girl for their son?

Shaking off the thought, my gaze drifted through the crowd... until it landed on n the groom, seated on a horse.

Viraat Oberoi.

But I couldn't see his face clearly.

I leaned forward slightly, trying to catch a glimpse-when suddenly, his eyes lifted... in my direction.

Startled, I immediately stepped back and returned to my seat.

Sitting there, I looked at myself in the mirror... silently staring at my reflection for a long moment.

And somewhere in between... a tear slipped out without me even realizing.

Yes, I was getting married. And now, even I have my own reasons behind it...But that didn't change the truth that..

My family didn't want me.

They forced me into this marriage.

To them... I was nothing more than a burden.

It was all too much... enough to break anyone.

But I had stopped crying a long time ago-

the day people started mistaking my tears for weakness.

The Night of the wedding arrived so quietly that I didn't even realize when time had slipped through my fingers.

In between all of this, I had wanted to meet my would-be wife.

Myra Srivastava.

Such a beautiful name, isn't it?

I wanted to tell her everything-every truth about myself-so she wouldn't be left in the dark because of me.

She was about to become my wife. She had every right to know who I truly was... and to decide whether she still wanted to marry me after that.

But I never got the chance to meet her.

It's not like I didn't try.

My father had refused from the very beginning.

But why should I always listen to him, especially when it is concerned with someone else's life?

So despite his repeated refusals, I went to Myra's house-again and again-just to talk to her.

But her parents and her brother never let me meet her.

I tried... more times than I can count.

But it was all in vain.

I couldn't even catch a glimpse of her-meeting her was far beyond that.

And now... it's the wedding day.

We had already arrived at the venue.

To showcase his wealth and status, my father had left no stone unturned.

Since Myra's family couldn't afford such extravagance, he had booked a grand, high-class venue himself-and made sure every arrangement screamed luxury.

For what?

For his so-called honor... his status... his need to show off.

Right now, we were all standing outside while the entire baraat danced in celebration.

I watched everyone-my friends, my mother... all of them looked so happy.

And somehow, seeing them like that felt good.

But me?

I wasn't happy.

Not because I was getting married...

But because I couldn't tell the girl-who is leaving everything behind to come into my life-the truth she deserved to know.

And that... was tearing me apart inside.

Yet, there was still a smile on my face.

A smile meant only for the world.

Suddenly, I felt someone's gaze on me.

When I turned in that direction, I saw a silhouette of My bride.

The moment my gaze met hers, she immediately stepped away from there.

I couldn't see her clearly...

And I don't know if she saw me either.

But a smile found its way onto my lips.

And even as I walked toward the mandap, my eyes kept drifting back to that window... again and again.

Perhaps... hoping for just one more glimpse of her.

🌺

The wedding rituals had begun, and within a short while, the priest asked for Myra to be brought to the mandap.

The moment it truly sank in-that my bride was finally going to stand before me-an unexpected wave of restlessness washed over me. My heart grew uneasy... nervous in a way I hadn't prepared for.

A few moments later, I heard it-the soft, delicate chime of anklets.

And as I lifted my gaze...

Silence.

I don't know whether that silence existed around me... or only within me. It felt as though time itself had paused, as if everything around me had stilled just for this moment.

My heart began pounding violently against my chest, and my eyes... they were fixed only on her.

She was walking toward me, her gaze lowered.

All I wanted-just once, just for a fleeting second-was for her to look up. To meet my eyes. To tell me, without words, whether she truly wanted this marriage... or not.

But she never looked up.

In fact, throughout the entire wedding, she didn't look at me even once. Her eyes remained lowered, distant... detached.

Even during her farewell, she didn't cry.

She hugged her family half-heartedly, as if their presence-or their absence-made no difference to her. And they... they too wore expressions of pain that felt more rehearsed than real.

But in between all of that, I did catch a glimpse of her eyes once...

Empty.

Completely hollow.

And even then, they weren't looking at me.

-

I opened the car door for her, and she quietly stepped inside. Her lehenga was caught slightly outside, so I gently lifted it and adjusted it in.

When I looked at her again, she was still sitting there, head bowed.

I took a seat beside her, maintaining a respectful distance, stealing a glance in her direction. To be honest... it felt like she was holding herself together with immense effort.

So, I turned my gaze forward again.

And the car began to move.

A moment later, my eyes caught something-a tear sliding silently down her cheek.

Perhaps she noticed, because she quickly wiped it away.

"I'm... really sorry," I said softly.

She didn't respond. Didn't move. But my eyes still longed for her to look at me... just once.

"It's not easy, is it?" I continued quietly. "Leaving everything behind... your home, your people. And here... I am the reason you had to do it."

My voice softened further.

"So... please forgive me, Myra."

Slowly, I extended my handkerchief toward her.

And that was it.

Something broke.

She began to cry-not loudly, not uncontrollably-but enough for me to understand that she had been holding it all this time.

I didn't say anything.

I just kept my hand extended.

After a few moments, she took the handkerchief and gently wiped her tears. And just as quickly as it had begun... she went silent again.

As if she had never cried at all.

But even then...

She didn't look at me.

🌺

The cars stopped in front of the house, and I stepped out first. The bride's welcome was prepared with music and celebration.

I walked to her side, opened the door, and gently extended my hand.

She hesitated for a moment...

...but then slowly placed her hand in mine.

I helped her step out, and she carefully adjusted her lehenga as she stood beside me.

At the entrance, my mother performed her aarti, and together we bowed down to seek blessings from the elders.

A few rituals followed, but I found no meaning in them.

Because Myra wasn't happy.

And somehow... that made everything feel incomplete.

So I asked my mother to send her to the room as soon as possible so she could rest.

After insisting a little, my mother agreed and had her escorted to our room.

🌺

I didn't enter that room the entire day.

I didn't want to make her uncomfortable. Not today. Not when everything was already so overwhelming for her.

Instead, I kept myself busy with work, distracting my mind as much as I could.

And it worked... for a while.

But as night fell, it became harder and harder to hold myself together. Exhaustion began to take over.

I needed sleep.

Desperately.

So finally, I walked toward our room.

I opened the door quietly and noticed the lights were still off.

Which meant...

She was asleep.

I stepped inside, closing the door gently behind me, and switched on the dim light.

And that's when my eyes fell on her.

She was lying there, her figure still, peaceful.

After an entire day of exhaustion, her face finally held a sense of calm.

Finally.

But there was a problem.

She was still wearing all her jewelry... and those heavy, uncomfortable clothes.

And even in her sleep...

I could tell-

They were not letting her rest peacefully.

I stood beside her, right near the head of the bed, my hand lifting instinctively to remove her veil... but then I paused, pulling it back.

What if she misunderstood?

That thought alone was enough to stop me.

Turning away, I decided to head to the bathroom to change.

But just then, a faint sound escaped her lips in her sleep-uneasy, restless... almost as if her silence was screaming discomfort.

I stopped.

And then, without thinking twice, I turned back toward her.

Slowly, carefully, I reached out again, my fingers brushing the edge of her veil as I began to lift it off her head.

But the moment she felt the slightest touch, she jolted awake.

In an instant, she moved back, retreating toward the bedpost, her body tense, her eyes wide with alarm.

And then, instinctively, her hands slid behind her waist.

I would have misunderstood that movement... if I hadn't noticed the knife hidden there.

She wasn't weak.

She wasn't helpless.

She had come prepared to protect herself.

And honestly... I couldn't blame her.

No girl could trust someone so easily-especially not in a situation like this.

A faint smile tugged at my lips.

But the fear on her face... that, I didn't like.

Not even a little.

So, gently, I tried to calm her, my voice soft, my intentions clearer than my words. After a moment of hesitation, she finally allowed me to remove her veil... and those heavy pieces of Jewellery were weighing her down.

Yet, the trust wasn't there.

Not fully.

Her eyes still held doubt... and her grip around the knife behind her remained tight.

And that's when I said the one thing that finally seemed to ease her, even if just a little-

"Aapki Naa ka Matlab Samajhta hu mein Myra, Aapko baar baar nahi Samjhna Padega."

(I understand what your 'no' means, Myra. You won't have to repeat it.)

For the first time, she lifted her gaze and looked at me.

There was still fear in her eyes... but something stronger stood beside it-

Courage.

An

d looking into those eyes, I realized one thing with unsettling clarity-

Sooner or later... I was bound to lose myself in them.

Whether I wanted to... or not.

And perhaps...

That was my greatest fear.

🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺

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