Chapter 18

The morning of the wedding arrived with a quiet bustle in the house. Niharika stood in front of the mirror, dressed in a beautiful lehenga, the pastel pink fabric flowing gently around her. The blouse, designed with delicate beadwork, had sleeves that reached just above her elbows, and her hair was styled in a low, messy bun, adorned with tiny white flowers. The soft glow of the room reflected in her eyes as she gazed at herself. The bindi she had applied completed the look, giving her an ethereal glow.

But as she caught sight of the mangalsutra around her neck, a wave of unease washed over her. She felt the weight of it—she had to wear it, but there was something about it that didn't feel right. It was a symbol of a marriage that she wasn't allowed to acknowledge openly. The weight of the secrecy hung heavily around her neck. She was unsure how to feel about it, her emotions tangled between obligation and sadness.

Her thoughts were interrupted when her mother-in-law, Maya Datta, entered the room, her presence warm and reassuring. "I know it's not supposed to be hidden," she said, her voice gentle yet firm. "But it's not right for a newlywed not to wear sindoor and mangalsutra on a festive day. I don't know how you'll hide it, but here—take this. It might be easier."

Maya handed her a small mangalsutra bracelet, its simplicity catching Niharika off guard. A delicate diamond sat in the center, flanked by the traditional yellow and black beads. It was beautiful, understated, and Niharika understood the significance. She smiled weakly and nodded. "Thank you, I'll wear it."

Maya placed a reassuring hand on Niharika's shoulder. "I know this is a lot to take in. This isn't easy for you, I can tell. But I just want you to know, you're not alone in this. I'm here for you."

Niharika's throat tightened, but she nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "I know... thank you, really. I don't know what I would do without you and Aai."

After adjusting the bracelet on her wrist, Niharika descended the stairs, her heart heavy with the conflicting emotions of the day. The wedding was in full swing, and she couldn't help but feel the weight of being in the middle of something so deeply personal, yet so hidden from the world. As she walked into the main hall, the rituals were well underway.

Mayank noticed her the moment she entered, and his eyes widened. She looked stunning. The lehenga, the way the light caught the gold embroidery, her hair styled so effortlessly—it was like she had stepped out of a dream. But something about her backless blouse didn't escape his attention either. He noticed the musicians glancing at her, and his blood boiled with an unfamiliar possessiveness. Without thinking, he strode over to her and stood just behind her, subtly blocking her from their gaze.

"Oh, hi," Niharika greeted him, startled by his sudden proximity but grateful for the cover.

"Hi," Mayank replied, his voice a little strained as he tried to keep his feelings in check. He cleared his throat. "You look... amazing. You're stunning."

She smiled faintly at his compliment, feeling a little awkward. She had spent so much time overthinking the wedding that hearing him speak about it made it seem a bit more real. Her hand subconsciously brushed the dupatta that covered her wrist, the mangalsutra bracelet hidden beneath its folds.

Mayank noticed the small gleam of her trishul tattoo and a bracelet as she tucked her hair behind her ear. He frowned slightly. He had seen her wearing it before but didn't know why. "What's that?" he asked, pointing to the bracelet.

Niharika paused, caught off guard, and glanced at her wrist. "Oh, um... Your mother gave it to me," she explained softly. "She said I should wear it today."

Mayank's expression softened, a slight understanding settling over him. "I see," he replied quietly. He then raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a small smile. "By the way, she's your mother-in-law, you can call her that."

Niharika nodded politely, giving him a small smile in return. "Right... thank you."

Before they could continue their conversation, he was distracted by the rituals continuing in the room. He noticed Niharika looking at them with a bit of confusion, as if unsure of what was going on. He smiled to himself and walked over to her, his hands in his pockets.

"Let me explain a bit," he offered, his voice light. "In a Bengali wedding, the groom gives the bride a series of gifts, and there are prayers to bless the union. Right now, they're doing the 'Saat Phere,' the seven rounds of the fire. It's a significant moment. It binds the couple together for life. Most rituals are same as others."

Niharika listened attentively, her lips curving into a small smile as she looked at him, appreciating how he was explaining everything so naturally. "It's beautiful," she remarked quietly.

Before they could speak further, Mayank's friends approached, their chatter quickly filling the space between them. He exchanged pleasantries with them, but Niharika, sensing the familiar shift in the air, couldn't help but feel a bit out of place. One of the girls, Zara, a stunning and effortlessly confident woman, immediately caught Mayank's attention, flashing him a playful smile. Before Mayank could say or do anything, as they approached them, Niharika excused herself.

"Oh, you're still in the middle of things, Mayank? Come on, you need to join us for some fun!" Zara grinned, her voice flirtatious.

Mayank chuckled awkwardly, giving Niharika a quick glance before responding. "I'm fine, Zara. You all go ahead. I'm just... enjoying the moment."

But Niharika caught the way the other girls were looking at her, the quiet judgment in their gaze, and the way they seemed to slip into their own comfortable world of elegance and beauty. They were everything Niharika wasn't—confident, slim, effortless. She felt herself shrinking, the insecurities bubbling up. She instinctively tugged her dupatta tighter around her waist, hoping to hide the slight curve of her stomach. She felt awkward, out of place, and a wave of self-consciousness washed over her.

As the night wore on and the reception began, she sat quietly at the table, trying to keep to herself. The sounds of laughter, music, and chatter filled the room. Niharika felt the pressure of being in the center of attention, yet not truly a part of it.

Later that night, Niharika retreated to her room. She changed out of the lehenga and stared at herself in the mirror once more. Her thoughts swirled, the day's emotions catching up to her. She felt both beautiful and insecure, both confident and invisible.

After a moment of silence, she picked up her phone and took another picture. She smiled at herself, a genuine smile, and sent the photo to Siya.

Siya's response came quickly: "You look amazing, Nihi! Post it. It's your moment!"

Niharika hesitated for a second but then decided to trust Siya's advice. She chose the one Rahil had taken of her earlier, laughing at a joke, the light from the lamps bright and flattering. It was a candid shot, the one that felt the most like her.

With a deep breath, she posted it on Instagram.

The notification buzzed in Mayank's room, and he glanced at his phone. Niharika had posted a picture. His heart skipped a beat as he opened it, admiring the effortless beauty in her smile, the glow of her presence. He liked the photo immediately but hesitated to comment. He wasn't sure what was appropriate, considering everything going on. He chose to keep it simple and tapped "Like."

Niharika's phone buzzed a moment later, and she glanced at the notification. It was a like from Mayank. She wasn't expecting anything, so when she saw it, she felt neutral. It wasn't anything special, just a simple acknowledgment, but for some reason, it felt significant.

She leaned back against the bed, her mind still swirling, but for the first time that day, she allowed herself to feel a small flicker of peace. Maybe the journey ahead wouldn't be easy, but tonight, she allowed herself to own this moment, her beauty, and the truth that came with it.

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