Chapter 9: 9. Reception

I woke up to the usual emptiness of the room, a stark reminder of my solitary mornings. Mr. Shekhawat had already left for his daily gym routine. I told myself not to care, not to expect anything. I wasn’t particularly interested in spending time with him.

Today was the reception, and the thought of my family arriving filled me with dread. I didn’t want to see them or pretend to be a happy bride. All I wanted was to disappear. It wasn’t that I was ungrateful; it was just that my family had never shown any affection towards me. From birth, they had never made me feel like their daughter.

“Maa, I’ll have my breakfast in my room today,” I said, trying to keep my tone casual.

Maa looked at me with understanding eyes. “Okay, beta. I know you’re nervous about the reception. It’s perfectly natural.”

I nodded, feeling both relief and guilt. Maa always had a way of comforting me, but I didn’t want to burden her with my issues. I just wanted to get through the day without any additional drama.

The evening arrived faster than I anticipated. I was getting ready in a stunning traditional outfit, its intricate embroidery and sequins catching the light. My makeup was understated, meant to enhance rather than overwhelm. As I adjusted the drape of my saree, I saw him through the mirror. Mr. Shekhawat had entered the room, but I didn’t react. I think I was getting used to his presence.

He, however, seemed taken aback. His eyes widened as he took in my appearance, his gaze lingering with a softness I hadn’t seen before. He looked as though he had been frozen in place.

For a moment, we just stared at each other, the only sound being the soft rustling of my saree. Then, as if breaking free from a trance, he shook his head and headed to the closet to change.

I continued getting ready, my heart beating a little faster. The way he had looked at me was... unexpected. I couldn’t help but wonder what it meant.

When he emerged from the closet, he looked dashing in his professional attire. I finished my final touches, feeling like a complete bride. As I started to walk past him, he gently stopped me with a hand on my arm. I looked up at him, puzzled.

Without saying a word, he guided me to the mirror. I was about to ask what he was doing when he opened a drawer and pulled out a small container. My heart skipped a beat as I realized it was sindoor.

I reached out to take it from him, but he was quicker. With a gentle touch, he applied the vermilion powder to the parting of my hair. I felt a shiver run down my spine as his fingers grazed my skin.

“Now you are looking complete, Mrs. Abhimaan Deep Shekhawat,” he said, his voice low and husky.

I blushed and looked away, unsure how to respond to this sudden gesture.

He turned and left, leaving me with a swirl of emotions. Why had he called me Mrs. Abhimaan Deep Shekhawat?

I shrugged off the confusion and told myself not to overthink it. I didn’t want to embarrass myself by appearing too flustered.

Riya hurried into the room. “Bhabhi, everyone is waiting for you!” she said, her excitement was palpable.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. “Let’s do this,” I muttered to myself.

As I entered the grand hall, every eye was on me. I felt like a queen, but my heart raced with anxiety. Suddenly, a hand wrapped around my waist, pulling me close. I looked up to see him, my husband, standing beside me. His grip was firm and possessive, making me shiver. Why was he behaving like one of my book boyfriends?

The room fell silent. Then, as if on cue, everyone bowed in respect. I was stunned, realizing the power and influence he held. When I looked up at him, our eyes met. For a moment, it felt like it was just us. I saw the depth of his authority and control, stirring a mix of awe, fear, and a hint of admiration within me.

We mingled with his business associates, exchanging pleasantries and discussing deals. The grand ballroom was filled with the elite of Rajasthan, all gathered to celebrate the reception of Abhimaan and Mayura. Amidst the crowd, Abhimaan’s commanding presence drew attention from every corner.

I briefly stepped away to help Riya with her outfit. When I returned, I saw Abhimaan deep in conversation with a group of investors. As I approached, I noticed his tie was slightly askew. Without interrupting, I reached out and adjusted it with a gentle precision.

The room fell into stunned silence. Abhimaan Deep Shekhawat, known for his aversion to physical contact, allowed me to tend to him without flinching. It was as if my touch had tamed the formidable man, calming him in a way no one had seen before. The businessmen exchanged amazed glances .

As the evening progressed, the whispers of "Queen’s magic" spread through the crowd, establishing my place in the elite society of Rajasthan.

I found myself zoning out, my boredom creeping in. I spotted Maa across the room and leaned close to Abhimaan. “I’m going to say hello to Maa,” I whispered. He nodded, his gaze lingering on me with an intensity that made my skin tingle. It was clear he didn’t want to let me go, and I felt a shiver as I walked away, sensing his eyes following me.

In the warm embrace of my mother-in-law, I felt a wave of relief. “Beta, tu kitni pyari lag rahi hai!” she said, beaming with affection.

“Maa, aap bhi kitni achchi lag rahi hai! Aapne yeh sare rang mujhpe daale hai!” I replied, feeling grateful for her kindness.

She chuckled. “Arre, Mera Abhimaan kitna lucky hai!” she said, making me blush with her praise.

As I conversed with my mother-in-law, my own family approached us. My parents wore wide smiles, though their eyes gleamed with insincerity.

“Mayura, beta, we’ve missed you so much!” my mother said, her voice dripping with false warmth. “We can’t believe our little girl is now part of such a prestigious family!”

My father nodded, his gaze scanning the opulent surroundings. “Yes, and what a royal treatment you’re receiving! You deserve only the best.”

They continued to boast about the luxuries and name-dropped designer brands. I felt uncomfortable, sensing their ulterior motives. My mother-in-law, however, remained gracious, though her expression was polite but wary.

“We’re glad to have Mayura in our family,” she said, her voice a gentle rebuke. “But let’s focus on the love and happiness she shares with Abhimaan, rather than material possessions.”

My parents' faces fell momentarily before they regained their composure.

Sensing their discomfort, my mother-in-law tactfully intervened. “Mayura, beta, let me introduce you to some friends of mine over there. They’re eager to meet you.”

She guided me away from my parents, who looked disappointed but didn’t protest. I felt a wave of relief. I was grateful for my mother-in-law’s quick thinking and her effort to shield me from my parents’ manipulative behavior.

“Thank you, Maa,” I whispered, squeezing her hand. “I owe you one.”

She smiled and patted my hand. “Anytime, meri  jaan . Now, let’s go meet some lovely people who genuinely care about you.”

We spent the next hour mingling with her friends, who were warm and welcoming. They asked about my interests and hobbies, and we shared stories and laughter. It was a pleasant distraction from the tension created by my parents.

As we chatted, a man younger than Abhimaan approached us. One of the women introduced him as her son, Rajveer. He greeted me with a charming smile.

“Mayura, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Would you like to dance with me?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

I hesitated, looking at Maa for guidance. She nodded, so I agreed, thinking it would be a harmless dance.

As we stepped onto the dance floor, the music swirled around us. We moved in sync, our bodies maintaining a respectful distance while swaying to the rhythm.

As the dance ended, I felt a sudden tension in the air. Abhimaan’s eyes narrowed, his gaze fixed on Rajveer with an unspoken warning. I sensed that I had unwittingly stepped into a complex web of relationships, realizing that Mr. Abhimaan Deep Shekhawat’s scrutiny was far from casual.