The grand dinner was nothing short of a royal affair. The chandeliers glittered above us, the long tables filled with extravagant dishes that could feed an entire kingdom.
Laughter echoed through the halls, the sound of clinking glasses and lively conversations drowning in the suffocating reality I found myself trapped in.
I sat there, dressed in my heavy bridal lehenga, feeling like a showpiece on display. People came to congratulate us, smiling, joking, wishing us a happy married life as if this was some fairytale.
As if I had married the love of my life instead of the most arrogant, insufferable man on this planet.
Aditya sat beside me, looking effortlessly at ease in his sherwani, his expression unreadable, his presence commanding. He played his role well-flashing polite smiles, nodding at guests, pretending as if this was all normal.
But nothing about this was normal.
The heavy jewelry felt like shackles around my neck. My hands ached from holding them in my lap, and my head was starting to pound. But worst of all-the discomfort brewing in my lower abdomen was becoming unbearable.
A dull ache. A familiar, unwelcome sensation. No. Not now.
I knew this feeling. I knew my body. My period was approaching. And the worst part? It wasn't just approaching-it was going to hit me tonight.
Could this day get any worse?
I swallowed, shifting slightly in my seat. My cramps were always brutal, but add exhaustion, stress, and the suffocating weight of this whole wedding into the mix? It felt like my body was betraying me at the worst possible moment.
"Are you even listening?" I snapped out of my thoughts, realizing someone had been speaking to me. My father's voice.
I looked up to see him watching me with an unreadable expression. Next to him, Aditya's parents were beaming, talking about something that I had completely zoned out of.
"I-what?" I muttered, my voice lower than intended. "Beta, you look exhausted," his mother said, smiling kindly. "Should we wrap this up soon? We know it's been a long day for you."
I nodded quickly, too grateful to argue. "Yes, please."
I didn't care about traditions. I didn't care about the formalities left. I just needed to get out of this suffocating lehenga, remove the layers of jewelry weighing me down, and curl into a ball in peace.
But of course, nothing was ever that easy.
The moment we stepped inside Aditya's house-my new home-I wanted to run.
It was massive. Lavish. Every inch of it screamed wealth and power, but I wasn't impressed. I wasn't in awe. I was too tired to care.
Aditya's family welcomed us inside with more traditions, more rituals, and just when I thought I could finally escape-someone brought up the first-night tradition.
I almost groaned out loud.
Tradition dictated that the bride and groom spend their first night together. In the same room. In the same bed. A nightmare.
I wasn't sure if I was more horrified at the idea of being in Aditya's room or at the fact that my body was already screaming for relief from the impending storm of cramps.
I glanced at Aditya, expecting him to look smug. To throw one of his usual taunts. But to my surprise, he was quiet.
Expressionless. As if he didn't care.
Good. Let's keep it that way.
The door shut behind me with a soft click, and I let out a shaky breath. His room was exactly as I had imagined. Neat. Dark-toned. Expensive. Not a single thing out of place.
And now, I was standing in the middle of it, still dressed in my bridal attire, exhausted, irritated, and in desperate need of a heating pad.
I turned to face him. "Look, I don't care about any of this. I just want to sleep. So let's set some rules-" "Relax, sweetheart." He smirked, the amusement evident in his voice.
I scowled. "Don't call me that." "But you are my wife now, aren't you?" His voice was teasing, but there was something else beneath it. Something unreadable.
I was too tired to argue.
"Listen," I sighed, rubbing my forehead. "I don't care what you do. Just stay away from me. I'm not in the mood to deal with you."
His brows raised slightly. "Tired of me already? The marriage just started." I shot him a glare. "Trust me, I was tired of you long before this."
He chuckled, but his eyes flickered with something unreadable as he watched me struggle with my heavy dupatta. I was too impatient to deal with all the pins and embroidery. I just needed to change into something comfortable.
Without another word, I turned and walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me.
The moment I got out of that ridiculous wedding attire and into a simple cotton kurti, I felt like I could breathe again. But the relief was short-lived.
The cramps were hitting harder now. I sat on the edge of the bed, clutching my stomach, my body curling in on itself. I needed painkillers. A heating pad. Something.
I exhaled sharply, closing my eyes. Not tonight. Please, not tonight. But my body didn't care.
Minutes passed, and the pain only got worse. I tried shifting positions, lying down, curling up, but nothing helped. This was going to be a long, miserable night.
I didn't realize I had groaned until I heard a voice. "Are you dying?"
I opened my eyes to see Aditya standing near the bed, his arms crossed, watching me with that ever-present smirk. I glared. "Go away."
His smirk faltered slightly as his gaze dropped to the way I was curled up. His brows furrowed. "What's wrong?" "Nothing," I muttered.
His jaw tightened. "You're a terrible liar, Mrs Singhania." I didn't have the energy to argue. "I'm fine."
"Doesn't look like it." I sighed, closing my eyes. "It's just cramps, okay? Can you stop being annoying for one second?"
There was a pause. Then, to my utter surprise, he turned and walked away. I blinked. Well, that was easy. Or so I thought.
A few minutes later, he was back. With something in his hand. A hot water bag. I stared at him, completely caught off guard.
He placed it beside me, his expression unreadable. "Take it. Before you pass out from the pain and I have to explain to our families why my wife died on the first night."
I scowled. "You're dramatic." "And you're stubborn." He smirked, stepping back. "Just take it."
I hesitated for a second before finally grabbing the heating pad and placing it against my stomach. The warmth seeped through me instantly, dulling the sharp ache.
I hated that it helped.
I hated that he helped.
I hated the way he was looking at me-like I was something to be figured out. I turned away, closing my eyes.
"Thanks," I mumbled, almost too quiet to hear. He didn't say anything.
And for the first time that night, the silence wasn't so unbearable.
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