2. Old Wounds, New Possibilities
— Ruhika's POV —
The house felt unusually aware.Not tense. Not excited.
Just... aware.
Mumma has changed the sofa covers in morning. The good crockery had been washed and kept aside. Even the curtains looked newly ironed.
Papa told me in detail about the alliance we talked about and I nodded at the information, absorbing it the way I absorbed vendor details before an event — practically, efficiently.
"And his name?" I asked, pretending it was a routine question.
Papa glanced at his phone "Shivansh."
The word entered the room softly but it did not land softly inside me.For a second, I thought I misheard.
"Shiv...ansh?" she repeated, slower this time.
"Yes," Mumma smiled faintly. "Beautiful name, no?"
I had no answer.
Because my mind had already drifted to the corner of my room — to the small brass idol, to the Monday diyas, to whispered chants of 'Om Namah Shivaya' under my breath during anxious moments.
Now, a few hours later I stood in my room, staring at the Anarkali suit laid out on the bed.
Soft pastel blue. Minimal embroidery. Elegant without trying too hard.
I chose it myself . Not because I wanted to impress, but because I wanted to feel like me
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow I would meet Shivansh
I picked up my phone again and opened his picture that Papa sent.
Formal. Crisp shirt. Calm expression. No exaggerated smile.He looked composed,grounded, yet there was something steady about his eyes.
What am I doing? Suddenly behaving like a creep zooming in pictures of unknown men ?
________
Why was she nervous? It wasn't a wedding.It was just a meeting, just conversation and tea served on trays while parents observed body language.
The beginning of something that could either change her life or disappear politely.
Her stomach tightened while sat down on the edge of her bed and whispered his name softly, testing it.
"Shivansh."
The syllables felt familiar, was it a mere coincidence?
Probably. She wasn't na?ve to believe otherwise still the connection unsettled her in a strange way.
For years, she had prayed for steadiness.
For a marriage that mirrored balance. For a partner who didn't overpower.
And now the man she was going to meet carried a name that literally meant a part of Shiva.
"This isn't a sign," she muttered to herself. But somewhere deep inside, something softened.
________
Her mother knocked the door gently before entering.
"Beta, are you nervous?"
I smiled faintly. "A little."
She sat beside "Just be yourself."
That advice always sounded simple.But being yourself in front of strangers who might become family felt complicated.
"What if I don't like something?" I asked quietly.
"Then you say it," Mumma replied without hesitation.
"And if they don't like that I say it?"
Then came a steady look which reminded me of my mother's firmness which I unapologetically carry well
"Then they are not for you." Her voice grounded me.
But Rhea's face flashed in her mind again, yesterday's conversation. The wedding pictures. Her smile. The quiet resignation afterward.
"Mumma... how do you know before marriage what someone will be like after?"
In return to which she sighed softly. "You don't know everything. But you look for signs. Respect. Listening. Consistency."
Consistency. I thought about that word.
In college, I hadn't looked for consistency but was caught by winds of fleeting attraction and butterflies
____________
— Flashback: Ruhika —
I was nineteen, Second year of college.There had been a boy in my section
Confident. Charming. Effortlessly social.
He had once borrowed notes and said, "You're different from other girls." At nineteen, that had felt special.
We never dated. It was never said out loud
Just late-night conversations.
Shared coffee breaks. Lingering eye contact, exchanged playlists for two whole years, movie nights.
Everyone termed us as 'best friends' and I started believing the same unaware that the forces of attraction have turned not into one sided love but attachment.
Until one day I saw him laughing a little too closely with someone else, when I asked, he admitted that they were giving each other a chance. I was not jealous, not at all, but definitely hurt.
He said "I forgot to tell you, about her, nothing's official yet. You thought too much''
That sentence had stayed with me.
"You thought too much"
After that, I stopped giving a second thought to dating, Both of us were connected throughout college but I had made distance. It was only then I realised the distance was already there, I just started reciprocating it.
Stopped texting first, the initiative never came.
Stopped calling out cancelled trips, plans were never made.
Throughout the final year of college what I couldn't stop was being affected.
Someone may think it of a love story that had a chance but didn't bloom, but to me more than anything, it was a lost friendship, a connection which I poured my heart and energy in and it left me drained.
But understanding that it was not the time to dwell into self pity, for the next two years, I kicked myself into internships,certifications,work experience.
Joined my present firm
Looking back at whatever happened I ain't bitter or anti-love, just... careful.
_____
Later that night, she couldn't sleep.What if he expected her to quit her job after marriage?
if he was progressive only in theory but traditional in practice?
What if she softened and he didn't? She turned to her side and stared at the ceiling.
She wasn't afraid of love. She was afraid of losing herself inside it.
______
— Shivansh's POV —
In another part of the city, Shivansh sat at his desk, reviewing a file he had already read twice.He wasn't distracted just thoughtful.
Her picture lay on the table beside his laptop.
Ruhika Mehta.
She wasn't overly made-up. No dramatic pose. Just a simple smile.There was something composed about her, neither loud nor timid ~ Balanced.
I wonder what her voice sounded like when she disagreed and almost smiled at that thought.I value disagreement.It meant clarity.
Just then, my phone buzzed.
Aarav.
"Bhai, are you excited?" his voice teased.
"Excited is not the word," I replied dryly.
"Then?"
Aarav laughed. "It's not a business meeting."
After the call ended, I leaned back in my chair.
Marriage.
I don't believe in half-hearted attempts.If I stepped into this, with her, it would be fully.
No emotional games.No ego battles.No conditional loyalty.Commitment is absolute.
?
He stood up and walked to the balcony. When he was twenty-seven, marriage hadn't even been a thought, because survival had been louder.
?
— Flashback: Shivansh —
Three years ago.
Papa faced a severe financial setback.Bad investments, market volatility,trusted partners backing out.
Debt piled up.I still remember the night I sat silently at the dining table, shoulders heavier than usual.
That night, I made a decision.
Left my comfortable corporate position and revamped our audit firm independently.
No safety net.No guaranteed clients.
For months, I woke up at 5 a.m. and slept past midnight, building credibility one account at a time, yet negotiated fiercely and refused shortcuts.
_________
In three years, he turned uncertainty into stability.Not just for himself, for his loved ones.
Marriage had not been postponed out of fear.It had been postponed out of priority.There was no space for heartbreak when responsibility sat on your chest daily.
He didn't have exes.He didn't have unfinished love stories.
He had deadlines. And determination.
_______
Shivansh's POV
Back in the present, he thought of her again.
Event management.Late nights. High pressure.
Would she expect him to be overly expressive?He wasn't dramatic.But he was observant
If she had a long day, he would listen.
If she needed support, he would provide it without announcing it.
He didn't want a wife who depended on him.He wanted a partner who stood beside him.And he would give her that space.
Fully.
_______
Later at night,
Maa entered my room quietly.
"Beta, don't overthink," she said gently.
"I'm not," he replied.
She patted my head and said "She seems nice."
I nodded.
"What matters to you most?" Maa asked
I didn't hesitate. "Respect. Stability. Shared responsibility."
"And love?" she teased softly.
"Love grows where respect exists," I said.
I am not romantic in words, that's what I tell myself but I loved deeply.Even if he hadn't yet had the chance to prove it.
___________
Next Day
— Ruhika's POV —
The day arrived, morning felt slower.Since twenty minutes I am trying to focus on work, but my mind wandered.
This wasn't like her.She prided herself on control.
By evening, she returned home early.Her father was reviewing documents.
"Papa," she began hesitantly.
"Yes?"
Her father closed the file. "You say what you believe."
She felt her throat tighten slightly.She wasn't desperate.But she was.
.. hopeful.And hope always carried risk.
She wasn't asking for Fireworks just alignment.
She stepped inside her room to get ready.
________
Ruhika was dressed in her Pastel Anarkali~Flowing.
Understated elegance. She touched the fabric lightly before picking it up.
She didn't want to look overly dressed.But she didn't want to look indifferent either.
This wasn't about impressing. It was about presenting herself — authentically.
Her mother peeked inside her room.
"Wear the pearl earrings," she suggested gently. "They suit you."
Ruhika nodded.
As she changed, she studied herself in the mirror.The structured blazer was gone.In its place stood someone softer.
But softness did not mean surrender.She adjusted the dupatta carefully.
Her hands trembled slightly — barely noticeable.
She exhaled.
It's just a conversation.But it didn't feel "just" anything.It felt like a threshold.
Her phone lay on the table beside her.She opened his picture again.
Shivansh. The name still carried weight.
She whispered it softly again, testing it with her voice. It didn't feel foreign.That unsettled her more than it should.
She turned toward the small mandir, with folded hands whispered
"No signs. No illusions," she murmured softly. "Just clarity."
A strange calm followed.Not excitement.Not fear.
Just readiness.Her father called out from the living room.
"They'll be here in fifteen minutes."
Fifteen minutes. Her pulse quickened. What if he expected a quieter version of her or misunderstood her ambition?
What if he believed "adjustment" meant sacrifice?
She straightened her shoulders.Then he isn't for you. Her own voice echoed back at her.
When she went down to the living room her mother adjusted a loose strand of her hair.
"You look beautiful," her mother whispered.
Ruhika smiled softly.But her mind wasn't on appearance.
It was on conversation.
On tone. On the way he would answer difficult questions.
Because she intended to ask them.
________________________
Same Day
— Shivansh's POV —
I was ironing my shirt, doing these small routine things kept me sane amidst the chaos that follows along the day
As I placed the shirt carefully on the hanger, I thought about evening
Would she speak confidently?
Would she avoid eye contact or would she ask some difficult questions
_____
He hoped she would, for he was not looking for compliance he wanted conversation.He glanced at her picture one last time before placing it back in the bedside drawer just when
"I didn't say it was," the younger one entered inside the room grinning and took the photo from his hand, I'm just saying... you're calm, she looks sharp. This could either be very balanced... or very entertaining."
Shivansh finally looked at him and replied, "marriage isn't entertainment."
"Relax, I'm joking," Aarav laughed, sitting on the edge of the bed . "But she does look confident. Not the 'ji-ji' type."
Shivansh's expression didn't change, but something in his tone firmed.
"I wouldn't want the 'ji-ji' type."
To which his brother paused.
"Oh," he blinked. "Okay. Green flag alert."
Shivansh rolled his eyes faintly. "Stop using these internet slangs all day
"You look like you're already evaluating long-term compatibility."
Aarav studied him for a moment, then softened slightly.
"You deserve someone solid, bhai."
The teasing dropped for just a second.Shivansh's voice quieted too. "So does she."
Aarav handed the photograph back carefully this time.
"Just don't interrogate her like a client," he warned lightly while heading toward the door.
"No promises," Shivansh replied calmly.
"Also," Aarav added, peeking back in with a grin, "if she's strong-headed, I'm supporting Bhabhi in arguments."
The door closed before Shivansh could respond.
But he found himself smiling faintly.
Strong-headed wouldn't bother him.Disrespect would.
And somehow, looking at her calm expression—
He didn't think she would be disrespectful.He thought she would be honest.
And that, he realized, he preferred.
_______
Wrapping up his work early He reached home as the r clock hit 4 in the evening.That in itself did not go unnoticed.
Aarav, sprawled across the sofa, raised an eyebrow.
"Half day?
Shivansh removed his watch calmly but with his lip twitched at his brother's daily quota said ' Tujhe koi kaam nahi hai?'
Shivansh ignored him and walked to his room.
His mother had already placed a neatly ironed pair of white Shirt and blue trouser along with a blazer on the bed .
As he got ready, his phone buzzed. A client message.
He silenced it.
For once, work could wait.As he combed his hair back neatly, a thought surfaced unexpectedly—
He paused.
He had never particularly worried about being liked. In professional spaces, competence was enough.But this was different.This wasn't about performance.This was about compatibility.Would she think he was too reserved? Or too structured?
Would she mistake calm for disinterest? He remembered her face again
Her expression carried confidence. Not arrogance. Not softness either.There was something in her eyes that suggested she would speak her mind.
Good.
He didn't want silence disguised as agreement.
His father knocked lightly before entering.
"Ready?" he asked.
"Yes."
His father studied him for a moment.
"This isn't about impressing anyone," he said gently. "It's about understanding."
"I know." Shivansh replied
His father nodded approvingly.
As they walked toward the living room, Shivansh inhaled slowly.If this felt forced, he would step back.If this felt aligned, he would move forward.He didn't chase intensity.He trusted steadiness.
And tonight—
He would observe hers.