25
Tomorrow I'm getting married.
Yeah... it's been a week already. A week since I stormed into his mansion, a week since I kissed him, a week since he asked me to leave. And I did.
Now, here I was-less than 24 hours from marrying someone I barely know.
The past few days were a blur of colors, music, laughter that didn't quite reach my eyes.
My haldi had been perfect, they said-my skin glowed.
The mehendi on my hands was dark and beautiful, filled with hidden initials I didn't even bother to look at.
The sangeet was grand, my brothers danced, Arya bhabhi sang a song just for me. Guests cheered, clapped, celebrated me.
But inside, I felt empty.
Not a word from him. Not a single call.
And I? I didn't contact him either.
Sometimes I picked up the phone-stared at his name, but my ego stopped me.
If he wanted to let go of me... who was I to force him to stay?
So I smiled. Dressed up. Played the perfect bride-to-be. But every night, I sat here in this balcony, staring at the stars-trying to find my mama in them. Wondering if she was watching me. Wondering if she knew what a storm I was carrying inside me.
Tonight was no different. I sat there in a simple nightdress, hair loose, feet curled up, my eyes on the sky. Sharaa was beside me, sleeping silently like he always did-my little protector.
And then I felt it-a warm hand on my shoulder.
I turned slightly and saw Papa.
His face was soft, kind. He smiled at me and I tried my best to return it. He walked over and sat beside me without a word, as if he'd known all along I'd need him tonight.
He didn't say anything for a while. Just looked up at the sky with me. And for the first time in days, I felt like someone truly understood that I didn't need noise... just presence.
After a moment, he broke the silence. "You used to sit like this when you were ten too. After your mother passed. You'd come out here and ask the sky why she left."
My throat tightened. I hadn't expected that.
He looked at me, eyes filled with quiet emotion. "Are you still asking why someone left, bacha?"
I looked at him sharply, and for a moment, all I could do was nod. Just a little nod.
He didn't press further. He just placed his hand on mine and said, "You don't always have to pretend to be strong, Katha. You can break too. You're allowed."
That was all it took.
I laid my head on his shoulder, my eyes filling again.
And we both sat there.
In silence.
Two broken hearts, healing slowly, under a sky that never answered.
But maybe, just maybe, tomorrow...
Everything would change.
Just as I wiped the stray tear from the corner of my eye, trying not to let Papa see it, the silence was broken by a loud, dramatic voice.
"Bas karo emotional drama, dulhan raani," Gyan bhaiya said, plopping down beside me with his usual smirk. "Aaj last raat hai shaadi se pehle. Kal se toh tum kisi aur ke ghar ki ho jaogi!"
"Gyan!" Arya bhabhi's voice came from inside, scolding him lightly. "Stop scaring her!"
"Scaring? I'm just preparing her," he laughed, nudging my shoulder. "And anyway, she doesn't look scared, she looks like she's thinking about her sasuraal already."
"Or someone from her past maybe?" Dyan bhaiya added, raising an eyebrow teasingly. "Kya bolti ho dulhaniya?"
I rolled my eyes but couldn't stop the small smile that tugged at my lips. "You all are too much."
Then Bhairava bhaiya walked in with Arya bhabhi beside him, his arms folded, giving me his usual strict-big-brother look. "You've been quiet all day, bacha. What's going on in that little lawyer head of yours?"
"Bhaiya please," I sighed. "I'm just nervous."
"Arre nervous kyun? Tu toh apne courtroom mein logon ki band baja deti hai," Gyan bhaiya said dramatically. "Yahan toh sirf ek innocent dulha hai."
"Innocent?" I asked, raising a brow. "Didn't he run from his own engagement once?"
Everyone burst out laughing.
Just then, my laddu entered in his baggy shirt, rubbing his eyes sleepily, Sharaa walking beside him like a mini guard. "What's so funny?" Utsav asked, yawning, then looked at me. "Di, you didn't come to our room to say good night. You okay?"
"I'm fine, laddu," I smiled, holding my arms out to him. He ran and curled into my lap, laying his head on my chest like he always did as a child.
"Good," he mumbled. "You're not allowed to be sad, okay? Only I'm allowed to cry in this house."
Everyone chuckled softly. Dyan bhaiya ran his hand through my hair, and for a few peaceful moments, we all just sat there-me surrounded by the loudest, most protective storm of brothers, who had no idea about the one raging quietly inside me.
But I let myself breathe.
Just for now.
Just for tonight.
It was midnight. The world outside was asleep, but my mind was a war zone. I tried, I really tried to ignore the ache in my chest-the constant pull toward him. But it was useless. My heart had made its choice long before my head even caught up.
So I got out of bed, not caring about what I was wearing-just my loose pajamas and a hoodie-and drove through the empty streets. Just once, I wanted to see him. Maybe for the last time. Just... once.
When I reached his mansion, the guards looked startled but didn't stop me. They knew who I was. I walked up to his door, my heart pounding in my throat, and knocked.
A few long moments passed. Then the door creaked open, and there he was-Dattatriya Agnivanshi. Drained. Hollow. And yet the second his eyes landed on me, a flicker of something... something soft passed through.
"I'm getting married tomorrow," I said, trying to sound unaffected. But my voice cracked.
He looked at me. Nodded.
That's it?
"That's all you have to say?" I asked, anger and heartbreak mixing in my tone.
Again, he nodded.
I clenched my jaw, stepped closer, grabbed his collar. "Speak, Datta. I'm not deaf. I can hear, so say something!"
He sighed, eyes not meeting mine. "Katha... I've already told you. You're the forbidden fruit. I can never have you."
And then his arms wrapped around my waist carefully, his body pulling me close-his forehead resting gently on my shoulder like he was trying to breathe in my presence one last time.
"Just go, Katha," he whispered, his voice trembling. "I'm not the man you deserve. I never was."
Tears blurred my eyes. My chest hurt like it was being ripped open.
I held him back, tightly. "Try to fight for me once," I whispered. "Just once."
But he said nothing. He just held me tighter like that was all he could give me.
And maybe it was.
So I broke the hug. Stepped away, though every inch of me wanted to stay.
"Fine, Mr. Agnivanshi," I said, wiping my tears roughly, trying to sound cold. "Don't forget to attend my wedding tomorrow. I want you to be there-to watch me become someone else's."
And without looking back, I walked away.
The night didn't cry for me.
But I did.
I drove back to my mansion, hands shaking on the wheel, vision blurred from the tears that just wouldn't stop. The roads blurred into each other - like my thoughts, like my heart.
As soon as I stepped inside, I slammed the door shut and ran straight to my room, locking it behind me. I collapsed on the floor, my back against the door, letting out the sob I had been holding in since I left his house.
"I'm gonna be someone else's wife tomorrow..." I whispered to myself, staring at the wall like it might somehow answer me. "Someone who isn't him..."
I hugged my knees, rocking slightly, Sheeraa curling close to me as if he could sense my heartbreak. He let out a soft whimper and rested his head on my lap.
But after a long time, I wiped my tears and got up. "No," I whispered coldly, staring at my reflection in the mirror. "No more crying for a man who won't fight for me. If he can't take one step toward me, then I won't take a single glance back."
I picked up the wedding outfit laid on the side, ran my fingers over the embroidery - the same outfit I would wear tomorrow to marry Gowtham Chadda. "Fine," I muttered. "Let him sit there and watch me become someone else's. Maybe that's what he wanted all along."
But deep down... my heart cracked a little more.
It was already 5 a.m. Sleep was out of the question-my mind hadn't shut off even for a second the entire night. What was the point in trying now?
So I quietly got out of bed and went to shower. The water was cold, but I didn't flinch. I didn't feel much of anything anymore.
By the time I stepped out wrapped in my robe, it was 7 a.m. The house was already buzzing with excitement, laughter, chaos. Wedding day chaos.
The makeup artists were already waiting for me. I sat silently in front of the mirror, my expression blank, as they got to work. Brushes danced across my skin, foundation masked the exhaustion beneath my eyes, and blush tried to imitate a glow I didn't feel.
Let's get ready for my wedding, I thought bitterly. To a man who isn't him.
Just then, the door opened and Arya bhabhi entered softly, closing it behind her. Her face was lit with concern rather than excitement.
"Bacha..." she said gently, walking toward me.
I glanced at her through the mirror but said nothing.
She knelt beside me and took my hand. "You know you can talk to me, right? I've seen you since you were a little wild thing running around in mud. This silence? It doesn't suit my Katha."
I gave a small smile, barely there. "I'm fine, bhabhi."
She didn't buy it. "No, you're not. You've been distant for days. You do the rituals, you smile when we ask, you laugh at Utsav's jokes. But your eyes, bacha... they're somewhere else. With someone else."
My jaw clenched, and I looked away.
Arya cupped my cheek gently. "I don't want to force anything, Katha. You're a grown woman. You know what you're doing. But marriage... it's not a ritual you walk into to forget someone else. You deserve a partner who owns your heart, not a person you use to silence it."
I looked down. "It's too late, bhabhi."
"Why?" she asked. "Because of ego? Or because you think you don't deserve love anymore? Bacha, if he means something to you, talk to him. Fight for him if he's too broken to fight for himself."
I took a deep breath, swallowing the pain. "He doesn't want to fight. He said I'm a goddess he worships but can never have."
Her eyes softened, and her grip on my hand tightened. "And you believed that nonsense?"
"I believed his silence," I whispered. "I begged once, bhabhi. Just once. And he let me go."
There was a long pause. Then Arya said, "You are the strongest girl I know. But strength also means knowing when not to carry someone else's burden. Maybe this wedding will give you closure. Or maybe it's the moment you realize what you truly want."
I didn't answer her. I simply stood up as the makeup artist finished and turned toward the saree hanging on the side.
Ignoring her words, I walked to the dressing area and closed the door behind me.
If he won't fight for me... then I'll marry a man who will at least stand beside me.
Even if my heart never follows.
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