8 ~ Trial room
I zipped my mouth. I can't even say a word. The moment I imagined him recognizing it...
My chest tightened.
No. I can't. So I just nodded silently.
The Dean didn't seem to mind.
"You'll be handling his welcome," he added, almost proudly.
Another nod.
That was all I could manage.
Because if I opened my mouth, If I said even a single word he would know and he would recognize me from yesterday.
From everything I was trying so hard to bury.
The Dean turned to him, smiling politely. "It's a pleasure having you here, Mr. Singhaniya. We'll see you at the event.
I could feel his gaze, still on me.
Then, finally he gave a slight nod and walked past me without saying a word.
The moment he was gone I exhaled a shaky, quiet breath I didn't even realize I was holding.
"Thank God..." I whispered under my breath.
"Chahat," the Dean called again, pulling me back to reality.
"Haan sir," I said quickly, finally finding my voice barely.
(Yes sir.)
"You'll have to accompany him for the arrangements," he said matter-of-factly. "Make sure everything is taken care of."
A forced smile tugged at my lips as I nodded.
"Yes sir."
He nodded.
My phone started ringing just as I stepped out of the college gate.
Mumma flashed on the screen.
I picked it up, adjusting my bag on my shoulder. "Haan..."
(Yes.)
"Chahat, ghar aao. Abhi. Jaldi." Her tone was rushed. No explanation.
(Come home. Now. Quickly.)
"Mumma kya hua..." I got nervous.
(What happened mom?)
Does she know that I sat at Mukti's place.
"Ghar aao abhi," she cut the call.
(Come home now.)
She sounded worried and angry.
That didn't sound normal.
Shit I'm gone.
My hand immediately reached to my cheeks. I'm about to get slapped really hard.
I gulped down.
My heartbeat fastened.
'Mummy to mujhe ghar se hi nikal dengi.'
(Mom will throw me out of the house.)
The bus ride felt longer than usual.
My mind kept jumping from one thought to another. College, committee work, that collision... him.
Kartik.
I shut my eyes briefly and leaned back.
Why does he keep showing up everywhere?
By the time I reached home, something already felt off.
The door was open.
I stepped inside and froze when I saw everyone was dressed like they were about to leave.
"What's going on?" I asked, confused, slipping off my shoes.
Before anyone else could answer.
"Accha hua tum aa gayi," Mumma said, walking toward me. "Singhaniya's ne bulaya hai shopping ke liye."
(It's good you came. The Singhanias have invited us for shopping.)
My heartbeat skipped.
"What?"
"Haan," she continued casually, like she hadn't just dropped a bomb. "Ring select karni hai. Mukti ka size nahi pata hai unhe. Aur hum sabko bhi bulaya hai."
(Yes. They have to select a ring. They don't know Mukti's size. And they've invited us all.)
My throat went dry.
"And you didn't meet them that day," she added, eyeing me from head to toe. "Aaj mil lena. Ab jao, change karo. Kuch decent pehno."
(You will meet them today. Now go change. Put on something decent.)
I stood there still processing.
"No," I said flatly.
She paused. "Kya?"
(What?)
"Main nahi jaungi."
(I won't go.)
She gave me a stare and I shook my head.
"Mumma, rishta di ka fix hua hai, mera nahi," I continued, my voice steady but my heart racing. "Main waha jaake kya karungi?"
(Mumma, Di's relationship is fixed, not mine, What will I do there?)
What if he's there?
What if he recognizes me?
My heart was beating fast.
"Bohot maarungi main, Chahat!" Mumma snapped, her patience gone instantly. "Us din bhi nahi mili tum kisi se. Tum dulhan ki choti behen ho aur kahin nazar hi nahi aati!"
(I will beat you a lot, Chahat! Even that day you didn't meet anyone. You're the bride's younger sister and you're nowhere to be seen!)
I clenched my jaw.
"Main seriously..."
(I seriously...)
"Kya sochenge wo log?" she continued, not letting me finish. "Aise behave karte hain?"
(What will they think? This is how you behave?)
"I don't care," I muttered.
"Mujhe farq padta hai!" she shot back.
(I do care.)
I exhaled sharply, running a hand through my hair. "Mumma, main waha jaake karungi kya? Seriously?"
(Mumma, what am I going to do there? Seriously?)
Because this wasn't about shopping but him.
"Engagement ke kapde lene hain," she said firmly. "Kitni shopping karni hai hume."
(We have to buy engagement clothes, We have so much shopping to do.)
"Mum..." I tried again, softer this time.
"Chup chaap ready ho jao," she snapped. "Warna mujhse bura koi nahi hoga."
(Get ready quietly, Or no one will be worse than me.)
"Main koi ready nahi hone wali," I said, folding my arms. "Main waha kisi ko impress karne nahi ja rahi hoon. Didi ki sasural wale hain, mere thodi."
(I'm not going to get ready, I'm not going to impress anyone. They're Didi's in-laws, not mine.)
Right then, Papa walked out of his room.
"Jao, Mukti ko bula lao," he said calmly, ignoring the tension.
(Go and call Mukti.)
I let out a frustrated breath and turned, stomping toward the room.
Mukti di was sitting quietly when I entered.
"Chalo," I muttered. "Neeche bula rahe hain."
(Come on, They're calling downstairs.)
She didn't say anything, just stood up and followed me.
The ride to the mall was silent.
No one spoke much.
We reached.
The mall was crowded, bright, loud and people moving everywhere.
Mumma called someone. "Haan, hum aa gaye."
(Yes, we have come.)
We were led toward a jewelry store and they were already there.
Kartik's family. Smiling and welcoming us.
"Kartik aa jaye tab ring select karte hain. Tab tak baaki ki shopping kar lete hain." Dadi said and my mother smiled.
(Let's select the ring when Kartik arrives. Until then, let's do the rest of our shopping.)
I stood slightly behind, next to Mukti.
Trying to blend in, trying to disappear.
But soon I heard my name, "Chahat."
I clenched my eyes closed and forced myself to step forward.
Mumma's voice came right on cue, warm and polite as she kept her hand on my back, "Ye Chahat hai... Mukti ki chhoti behen."
(She is Chahat... Mukti's younger sister.)
All eyes turned to me.
I gave a small, controlled smile, joining my hands slightly in greeting.
"Namaste."
(Hello.)
I thought she would make faces because I was wearing a t-shirt and jeans but she didn't.
Of course I'm not her would be daughter in law. They would control Mukti not me.
Before I could do anything else, Mumma nudged me lightly.
I knew what that meant.
I bent down and touched his Dadi's feet.
She immediately pulled me up into a soft hug, her hands cupping my face affectionately. "Bohot hi pyaari hai," she said with a smile.
(She is very cute.)
For a second, I softened.
But of course Mumma had to ruin it.
"Nahi nahi, please isse bachke rehna. Iske masoom chehre pe mat jana," she laughed. "Bohot shararti hai yeh."
(No, no, please be careful of her. Don't be fooled by her innocent face. She's very naughty.)
Kartik's father immediately looked at me when he heard my mother say that.
I shot her glare instantly.
She just smiled sweetly like she hadn't exposed me in front of strangers.
Dadi laughed, clearly amused. "Achha hai... ghar mein ronak rehti hai aise bachhon se."
(It's good... such children bring joy to the house.)
I gave a polite smile again, stepping back.
Mukti di moved forward next.
She bent down, touching her feet.
"Khush raho," his grandmother blessed her, her tone gentler now. "Bahut sundar lag rahi ho."
(Stay happy. You look very beautiful.)
Mukti gave a small, forced smile.
That tightness in her expression... that lack of ease and the guilt came rushing back.
"Chalo kapde dekhte hain tab tak." She said.
(Let's look at the clothes then.)
We moved toward the clothing section almost immediately, pretending to be busy.
Rows of outfits surrounded me...lehenga, suits, sarees... all too heavy, too bright, too much.
My fingers brushed against fabrics absentmindedly.
Until...something caught my eye.
A saree peach in colour.
I Picked it up.
The fabric felt light in my hands, the blouse intricately designed with delicate stone work and embroidery.
Without thinking much, I took it and walked toward the trial room.
I changed quickly.
The blouse was slightly loose. The peach shade against my skin made it look even softer.
I adjusted the pleats carefully, fixing the pallu over my shoulder.
For a second I looked at myself in the mirror and stilled.
I didn't look like... me. Not the usual jeans and t-shirt Chahat. Something about this felt different.
I was looking mature and curvy.
I stepped out.
"Mumma..." I called softly, walking toward her.
She turned, "Accha lag raha hai..." she said, scanning me. Not saying much but approving.
(It's looking good.)
That was enough.
Kartik's grandmother looked at me too, her eyes softening. "Bahut pyaari lag rahi ho beta. Mujhe bhi same saree chaiye." She told the salesman excited.
(You look very lovely, dear. I also want a saree like this.)
I smiled, "Thank you. Hum saath mein pehnege ye." I said and her eyes sparkled.
(We'll wear this together.)
"Haan..." she nodded.
(Yes.)
I moved toward the corner where the sales lady stood with a measuring tape.
"Haan, yeh yahan se thoda fitting tight karna," I said, adjusting the sleeve slightly. "Aur sleeves full rakhna..."
(Yeah, make it a little tighter here, And keep the sleeves full...)
And then...I heard it.
"Mukti."
His deep masculine voice from behind.
My breath stopped and my heartbeat spiked instantly.
I stayed rooted in my place.
Before he says anything further. I heard Dadi's voice.
"Beta, ye Mukti nahi hai." The words cut through everything.
(Son, She's not Mukti.)
I froze harder, if that was even possible.
His grandmother stepped beside me, her hand coming to rest gently on my shoulder.
"Ye uski chhoti behen hai...Chahat."
(This is his younger sister...Chahat.)
I clenched my eyes closed when she held my wrist and turned me slightly towards him.
I couldn't look into his eyes.
He was standing right in front of me. I raised my head up and saw his expressions
He was confused.
"Jis din hum rishta dekhne gaye the," his grandmother continued casually, unaware of the storm building between us, "ye ghar pe nahi thi, isiliye mil nahi payi."
(The day we went to see the proposal, she wasn't at home, so we couldn't meet her.)
I looked away. I could feel his gaze and I knew he was remembering that day.
My grip tightened further on the saree.
Don't react, don't look nervous just act normal.
"Chahat, ye Kartik hai," Dadi said with a soft smile. "Tumhare jiju."
(Chahat, this is Kartik. Your brother-in-law.)
Jiju.
The word echoed in my head like a cruel joke.
I forced myself with every ounce of courage I had to lift my gaze again and meet his.
For the first time properly.
But his eyes...they weren't on my face. They had dropped lower and my breath hitched.
His gaze was fixed on my waist, on the small mole visible on the side of my waist.
My heart slammed violently against my ribs.
My fingers instinctively moved, trying to adjust the pallu, to cover my mole but it was too late because when his eyes lifted back to mine everything had changed.
The confusion was gone and replaced by something darker something sharper.
Something that made my pulse race in a way I couldn't control.
Dadi moved away, saying something about checking other outfits but I didn't hear her.
"Chahat..." I looked at mumma. "Mujhe yeh try karke dikhao," her voice came, snapping whatever was left of my composure.
(Try this dress on.)
I went to her because I can't face him now.
She handed me a lehenga and I nodded mechanically.
I could still feel his gaze on me like he hadn't looked away even once.
My fingers tightened around the fabric as I turned quickly and walked toward the trial room, each step faster than the last.
The moment I stepped inside...I exhaled.
"God..." I whispered, pressing my hand against my chest.
I shut my eyes tightly, shaking my head.
I turned, quickly removing the saree, my hands moving faster than my thoughts. The soft peach fabric slipped away, pooling at my feet as I reached for the lehenga.
I wore the skirt first then the blouse.
It was beautiful, full sleeves and backless.
I reached behind, trying to tie the strings but I wasn't able to do it.
Every time I try I missed it. This had never happened before. I know this is all happening because of him. My hands were shivering thinking about it.
What if he exposed me in front of my parents.
I shook my head and tried to tie it again.
My fingers fumbled, not cooperating, my mind was too distracted.
Frustrated, I tried again, stretching my arm awkwardly behind my back.
"Come on..." I whispered.
The string slipped from my fingers again.
A soft groan left my lips. "Why now..."
I took a step closer to the mirror, trying to get a better angle...
The shoulder was slipping annoying me more.
And suddenly...the door burst open.
I gasped, spinning around instantly, clutching the front of my blouse in reflex.
"What the...?!"
My words died in my throat because standing there was him.
Kartik.
My breath hitched and I gulped down.