Chapter 49
SAURAV
“You’re looking good,” Abhiraj said, stepping into the guest room of the villa.
He was holding my ceremonial pagri, the stiff fabric of the turban catching the light.
He placed it on my head with the kind of care usually reserved for fragile things, adjusting the folds with practiced hands until it sat perfectly.
“You’re the luckiest bastard on the planet, Saurav.
You know that, right? You got married twice to the same woman.
She’s the bravest and the most beautiful woman I know. ”
He gripped my shoulder, his grip tightening. His voice dropped an octave, losing its usual teasing edge. “You better make her happy this time. No more jets coming before her. No more silence.”
The history between us felt heavy in the air for a second.
My friendship with Abhiraj was a long, winding road.
We had been inseparable for twenty years until the weight of my own choices and my coldness toward the world had driven a wedge between us.
I had walked away from him once, even though I still cared.
Seeing him here now, acting as my best man for the first time, felt like another part of my soul being repaired.
“You don’t even have to say it,” I replied, catching my reflection in the mirror.
I looked like a groom, but I felt like a man who had finally found his gravity.
“I’d do anything for her.” I held his gaze, my tone turning serious.
“Just... keep a little distance from my wife, okay? I know you’re a charmer. ”
“You two are obsessed with the same woman!” Aryan, my cousin, poked his head into the room with a wide grin. “Forget about Kavya, Abhiraj. Go find someone else to bother. This man is clearly territorial.”
“There’s nothing between us. She’s just my friend,” Abhiraj corrected Aryan, running his fingers through his hair and checking his own reflection. “Anyway, I’m dating Pari now. My wandering days are over.”
I froze, mid-adjustment of my sleeve. “Which Pari?”
“Pari Pandey,” Prashant said, stepping out of the bathroom. He was drying his hands, his face set in a permanent scowl. “My sister.”
“Are you serious?” I blurted out, looking from Abhiraj to Prashant.
I couldn't believe it. Two years ago, Abhiraj was the king of casual dating; he used to break hearts like they were made of cheap glass.
He lived for the thrill of the chase. But then again, I looked at myself. I had changed. Why couldn't he?
“That’s cool,” Aryan said, oblivious to the tension.
“But… ” Prashant stepped toward Abhiraj, glaring as if he were about to throw a punch. “If you hurt my sister, Abhiraj, I won’t just come after you. I will hurt your whole clan.”
Abhiraj didn't flinch. He just shrugged, though his eyes were soft. “I don’t have a clan, Prashant. It’s just me and my grandma. And I couldn’t imagine hurting Pari. I’m actually planning to marry her next year after she finishes her MBBS.”
“Bullshit!” Prashant hissed, though he looked a little less like he wanted to commit murder. He turned on his heel and walked out of the room, muttering about "smooth-talking bastard."
We all burst into laughter, the tension breaking instantly. Well, everyone except for one man.
I looked at Karan Shekhawat. He was standing by the window, his back to us, staring out at the garden.
He looked like he had been carved from a single piece of Himalayan stone.
No smile, no emotion, just raw, cold indifference.
Karan and I had been batchmates; we had bled and sweated together through the toughest training modules.
Back then, he was human. He felt things.
He laughed. Now, he acted like a machine programmed only for the mission.
“It’s time to go, boys,” a high-pitched, confident voice called from the doorway.
Karan spun around instantly. It was Rhea Rathore. For a split second, so fast I almost missed it, I saw a flicker of something strange in his eyes. A spark of heat, or maybe pain. But then the shutters came down, and he was a statue again.
“Let’s go, Groom,” Abhiraj teased, giving me a wink and a playful shove toward the door.
The guys left the room, and for a moment, I was alone.
I took one last look in the mirror. Two years ago, I had worn a similar outfit, but I had been a different person.
That man was arrogant. That man thought life was something to be conquered, not shared.
Today, I was just a man who wanted to go home to his wife.
I headed downstairs and stepped out into the backyard of our villa. It had been transformed. Avni and the others had gone all out. The space was decorated with thousands of soft pink and white roses. Only our closest family and friends were there, no cameras, no business partners, no fake smiles.
The air was perfectly still, making it feel as if time had slowed down just for us. I stood at the start of the wooden walkway, looking at the floral arch we had spent the previous weekend building together. My hands still had faint scratches from the thorns, and I cherished them.
The path felt different today. The scent of the heavy rose clusters was thick and sweet in the evening air, mixing with the smell of expensive incense. Blush and cream fabrics draped down from the trees in elegant sweeps, hiding the outside world and making the garden feel like a private sanctuary.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, the candles in their glass jars along the walkway began to glow brighter.
I’ve stood in many dangerous places, cockpits filled with smoke, jungles filled with shadows but standing here, I felt a new kind of mission.
This wasn't about the lights or the flowers.
It was about the woman waiting at the end of the aisle.
Every flickering candle reminded me that light remains even after the darkest days. I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders, and walked forward. The wooden walkway creaked softly under my shoes. My eyes were locked on the far end, waiting.
Then, the music shifted. The upbeat chatter died away, replaced by a soft, melodic strain of a flute. The guests fell silent, and then, she appeared.
Kavya looked like a dream I never wanted to wake up from.
She wore a peach lehenga that shimmered like water under the fairy lights.
The color made her skin glow with a warmth that felt like a sunrise.
Her dupatta was draped over her shoulder with an elegance that made her look like an angel caught in the twilight.
She wasn't just beautiful; she looked peaceful.
When she reached me at the altar, the rest of the world blurred into a haze of colors. I didn’t care who was watching or what was proper. I stepped closer, leaning in until I could smell the faint scent of the rose tucked into her hair.
“You look breathtaking,” I whispered, my voice thick and rough with emotion. “Like an angel who stayed on earth just for me.”
Kavya blushed, a deep rose color spreading across her cheeks that put the flowers to shame. Before she could speak, I leaned down and stole two quick kisses, one on each cheek.
“Saurav! Everyone is looking!” she hissed playfully, her eyes darting to our friends in the front row. But she didn’t pull away. In fact, she leaned into my space, her hand brushing against mine.
“Let them look,” I replied, catching her hand and lacing our fingers together. “I’ve waited a lifetime for this moment to actually mean something.”
The ceremony was a beautiful blur. The heat of the sacred fire, the smell of the ghee and grains, the ancient Sanskrit vows, this time, every word felt heavier. Every promise felt like a blood oath. As we walked around the fire, performing the pheras, I looked out at our friends.
Abhiraj looked settled for once, his hand resting protectively on the small of Pari’s back. He looked happy, truly happy. Avni was beaming, her eyes wet with tears as she leaned comfortably against Aryan.
Prashant was still keeping a protective eye on his sister, but Ira was right there beside him, holding his hand firmly and grounding him. Even Noor and her husband watched us with knowing, supportive smiles. It was a circle of love I had nearly thrown away.
However, the air was different near Rhea and Karan.
They stood like two opposite poles of a magnet.
Rhea stood a few feet away from him, her chin held high and her gaze fixed firmly on us, looking everywhere but at the man beside her.
Karan was a statue, but I noticed his jaw tighten every time Rhea moved.
When her silk saree accidentally brushed his arm, she pulled back as if she’d been burned, giving him a look of pure ice.
His eyes followed her for a second too long before he returned to his mask of indifference.
There was a story there, a dark one but today was about light.
Finally, the priest declared us husband and wife. A roar of cheers filled the garden as a rain of rose petals fell over us. I turned to Kavya, my wife, for the second and final time. I didn't need to be in the sky to feel like I was soaring.
“Ready to start our real life?” I asked, looking deep into her eyes.
She tucked her hand into mine, her smile brighter than any light in the garden. “I thought we already had, Saurav. But I’m ready to go further. Anywhere you go, I go.”
I led her back down the aisle, the petals crunching softly under our feet.
We walked away from the candles and into the moonlit night, leaving the ghosts of the past behind and walking straight into our forever.
For a man who used to love the clouds, I realized that the best view in the world was right here on the ground, holding her hand.
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