CHAPTER 37 #2
The ceremony had begun. Rajat and Avni stood beneath the decorated canopy at the centre of the garden, flushed and glowing, whispering something to each other. Their shy smiles and stolen glances made it obvious how happy they were, how deeply they were soaking in every moment of their celebration.
Mishti, however, was restless.
She didn’t know when or how she had started slipping back into the web Karan seemed to be spinning around her. His soft, almost effortless flirting was a side of him she had never truly known, and the fact that she liked it terrified her.
Just then he saw Karan walking into the garden dressed in a rich ivory sherwani, embroidered subtly with intricate thread work.
The sleeves stopped just an inch below his elbows, leaving his forearms bare and unapologetically distracting.
The neckline dipped into a sharp V, exposing a teasing expanse of his chest.
The moment he stepped into view, heads turned. Eyes followed, especially women’s.
And Mishti felt a burn straight in her chest every single time someone openly admired him.
Karan didn’t acknowledge any of it.
He walked past the curious glances and lingering stares as though they didn’t exist, heading straight toward Rajat and Abhimanyu, who broke into wide grins the moment they saw him dressed like that.
Even Avni froze. Her jaw dropped slightly in surprise and admiration.
Komal nudged Mishti’s elbow and whispered, “He’s looking extra handsome in traditional wear. I guess you shouldn’t have forced him into it. He was better in suits… don’t you think?”
Mishti rolled her eyes, masking the jealousy simmering inside her.
“Please,” she scoffed. “He looks decent only because Indian clothes finally hide that attitude of his. In suits, it’s unbearable.”
Komal laughed, clearly unconvinced. That was when Mishti’s gaze shifted, spotting Kanika, and she stiffened.
Rajat’s sister, Kanika, who hadn’t been around earlier was back. Kanika walked up to the couple, speaking animatedly to Rajat and Avni, before Avni pulled her into a warm hug. Rajat followed, saying something softly before embracing his sister as well.
Karan, who was standing there, smiled at Kanika when she suddenly grew a little too chatty with him. Mishti’s smile faded, replaced by an instinctive unease. What if Kanika noticed her? What if she casually mentioned to Avni that she was Karan’s wife?
Just then, Komal followed Mishti’s line of sight and instantly understood the reason behind her sudden stiffness.
She leaned in and said quietly, “Kanika arrived only an hour ago. She’d flown to South Africa for work, that’s why she couldn’t come earlier.
She’s just reached now. But more importantly…
VK uncle has already spoken to her about you.
And she knows Avni doesn’t need to know about you yet. ”
Mishti let out a slow breath of relief. Yet, she still couldn’t tear her eyes away from Kanika, who was very clearly admiring Karan, even though he wasn’t looking at her anymore.
The jealousy burned again.
No matter how firmly Mishti told herself that she had no intention of going back to Karan or continuing that marriage, this feeling of jealousy refused to go away. Watching other women look at her husband hurt her.
Moments later, VK approached them and gently guided Mishti and Komal toward the stage as the rituals were about to begin.
Kanika’s expression darkened instantly as she saw Mishti, but she made no sign of recognition, deliberately looking away as if she hadn’t seen her at all.
Mishti mirrored the gesture, pretending equal obliviousness. She stood beside Avni, fixing a strand of her hair, and that was when her gaze lifted and met Karan’s.
Karan stood holding the engagement ring box meant for Rajat, while Mishti held the one meant for Avni. Their eyes locked, neither of them looking away, neither willing to break that silent connection.
The moment stretched.
Only when Rajat and Avni slipped the rings onto each other’s fingers, and the crowd erupted into applause, did their eye contact finally break. They joined in, clapping along with the rest.
Rajat hugged Karan warmly.
Avni went to VK first, taking his blessings, and then turned to Mishti, hugging her tightly and excitedly telling her how happy she was, and how unreal it all felt.
Mishti couldn’t even say she knew that feeling. Because in her marriage, the engagement was never done. They got married directly with a few pre-wedding rituals.
Yet, now, she pushed those thoughts away when Avni turned to Karan as he congratulated her softly. Avni nodded in acknowledgement, accepting his wishes, but without warmth. It pricked him, and it hurt Mishti too, but neither of the two could change that at the moment.
Soon after, the newly engaged couple moved away, mingling with the guests and accepting congratulations as the evening continued.
****************
An hour later
Karan stood at the far end of the canopy, speaking quietly into his phone. It was a business call, the kind he couldn’t afford to ignore even in the middle of a celebration. When he finally ended the call and turned around, his gaze instinctively searched the crowd and found Mishti.
She was a little distance away, engaged in conversation with a group of women. But his eyes didn’t stay on her face for long. They drifted down. To her waist.
The waist chain was still there, catching the light, gleaming softly against her skin.
Only he knew how many pieces he had rejected before settling on this one. How many times had he said no before this particular chain had made him pause. He had known, the moment he saw it, that it would look beautiful on her. Not just beautiful—right.
The strange thing was, this urge to buy something like that, to surprise her, to think about what she would like before thinking about himself, was completely new to him. He had never cared enough to do this before. Never felt the need.
And yet now, he hadn’t been able to stop himself. What surprised him even more was the fact that he liked doing it.
That fleeting sense of satisfaction he felt watching her wear something he had chosen felt dangerously close to peace. The very thing he had been chasing for years. And somewhere, deep down, he already knew the truth. Her absence in his life had made him realise that.
That peace had never existed for him without her.
Not once.
Accepting that truth had been difficult, almost unacceptable. Especially knowing how wrong it all was.
Because the reason he had married Mishti had never been love or need for companionship. It had been revenge.
Mishti hadn’t been wrong to question him, to throw that truth in his face recently that despite knowing she was innocent despite knowing she had no idea what her father had done or how deeply it had destroyed his family, he had still dragged her into his darkness.
He had hurt her, even broken her heart in the process.
Seeing her today, smiling, genuinely happy, so controlled with her emotions, letting herself be affected by his subtle flirting yet strong enough not to give in easily, one truth struck him.
Mishti was meant to have all the happiness in the world.
This woman had endured far more than she ever deserved. She, too, had lost her mother far too young. She had grown up with a half-brother who never truly cared, never showed concern, never bothered to be present. And then she had married a man like him, a man who never allowed her to feel loved.
And yet…
She had fallen in love with him. She had dared to dream of a happy married life with him.
His eyes stung as the memory resurfaced of the day he had lost control, the day he had seen that cake in his room, her confession written so simply and so bravely on it.
I love you.
And how badly he had crushed her, how he had told her it was impossible. That he would never want her to fall in love with him. That he himself would never fall in love with her, because no matter what, she carried the blood of the man he despised.
How mercilessly he had shattered her heart that day. Broken it into countless pieces without a second thought.
And yet…Mishti had risen. Quietly, without noise or accusation, she had gathered those broken fragments, glued them back together, and in the process, found herself again.
He didn’t know if she still carried feelings for him. Or if she had already unloved him completely. But there was one truth he was certain of now.
From this moment on, he wanted nothing more than her happiness. Her smiles were rare. Her joy was rare. And he would protect both, with everything he had.
Because doing that, even thinking of doing that for her, finally felt like peace.
He believed that now with stark clarity. Mishti was the missing piece of his life, the one he had always searched for without knowing it. And he would always look after her.
She had every right to hate him now. Every right to hurt him. Every right to deny him, to push him away, to turn every weapon he once used against her back on him and make his life unbearable.
And even then, he would not give up.
Rajat had asked him this a few days ago—what he planned to do even if he managed to take Mishti back with him to Mumbai, refusing to let her walk away from him again.
Now, he finally had his answer.
If avenging the Goels had been his sole purpose for nearly sixteen years, then from this moment onward, he had only one motive left. To keep this woman happy and to lay the world at her feet.
The mere acceptance of that truth made his heart flutter, his same so-called stone heart, the one she had once accused of feeling nothing.
Just then, as he stood there smiling to himself, she turned around, as if she sensed him. Even from a distance, she looked momentarily stunned, caught off guard by the sight of him smiling like that.
Usually, Karan would have masked it instantly. Composed himself. Looked away. Left the spot before she could read more than he allowed.
But this time, he didn’t.
Mishti, on the other hand, was stunned by witnessing this side of Karan today. It wasn’t the smile alone. It was the ease behind it.
Smiles from Karan Wadhwa were rare. Never… this. Never so unguarded that it reached his eyes and stayed there, as if he had nowhere else to be, nothing else to hide.
Her heart fluttered. This version of Karan… this softened man, looked like someone finally at peace. Someone who had stopped fighting something inside him.
Was she the reason?
The thought made her swallow hard. She recalled the other night; in his drunk confession, he had said it. ‘You’re my peace.’ The words had sounded reckless then. Almost unreal. She had dismissed them as exhaustion… or alcohol… or his momentary weakness.
But standing here now, watching him not look away, not hide, not retreat, she wondered if he had really meant it.
What if, somewhere along the way, she had become more than a wife he married for revenge… more than a pawn in a war she never chose… more than a name tied to a man he despised?
Because his recent actions… his soft flirting, the restraint, the care… they all pointed in the same direction. That he had feelings for her now. The kind she always desired from him.
But how was she supposed to forget the nights she had cried alone?
The days she had questioned her worth in his life?
The love she had given without knowing it was doomed from the start?
Even if she forgave him… how could she ever let him forget?
Forget that she was still Dilip Goel’s daughter. She will always be.
That no matter how far she ran from that truth, no matter how fiercely she stood against it, that blood would always be a scar in their story. A scar that could reopen. A scar that could never truly fade.
Tears instantly pooled in her eyes. And hence Mishti looked away first. Not because she didn’t feel Karan’s softened change towards her. But because feeling it risked pulling her back into loving him, and she didn’t know if she would survive that fall twice.