Chapter 10: The Wedding Day

Ananya

The sun had barely risen, casting a soft golden glow over the house, but it felt like the weight of the world had already settled on my shoulders. Today was the day—my wedding day. The one I had never imagined, the one I had never wanted.

I stood before the mirror, staring at the reflection that felt like a stranger. The heavy, ornate bridal lehenga draped around me, shimmering with intricate embroidery that my mother insisted on. My hair was done up in an elegant bun, adorned with fresh flowers, and my makeup was flawless, just as my mother had envisioned. I didn't recognize the woman in the mirror.

I wasn't ready for this. I wasn't ready for the life that awaited me beyond these walls, where I would no longer be the carefree student who could dream and plan her future. I was about to step into a role that had already been decided for me, a role I never asked for.

The door creaked open, and my mother walked in, her eyes filled with pride and excitement. She didn't see the hesitation in mine. She didn't see the fear that gripped my heart every time I thought about what this marriage meant.

"Ananya, beta, you look so beautiful," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "Your father and I are so happy. Aarav is a wonderful man. You're going to be so happy together."

I forced a smile, nodding as she adjusted a strand of hair. I didn't have the heart to tell her that happiness wasn't the first thing that came to mind when I thought of Aarav. I didn't know what to expect, but happiness? That felt like a distant dream.

Aarav

I stood at the mandap, the sacred fire blazing before me, surrounded by family and friends. The chanting of the priests filled the air, and the rich fragrance of incense added to the solemnity of the moment. I wasn't nervous, not in the way most men might be. This wasn't a new chapter for me—it was the inevitable next step in a story that had already been written by our families.

My eyes flickered over the crowd. Everything was in place. My family stood around, watching as the ceremony proceeded. And then, I saw her. Ananya, stepping toward the mandap, her movements slow, careful, almost as if she didn't want to be here.

She wasn't ready, I could see that. But that didn't matter. She would learn to understand this, to appreciate it. To see that this wasn't just a formality—it was the beginning of our life together, no matter how hard it seemed now.

I could feel the tension in the air, could feel the apprehension emanating from her with every step she took toward me. But she came. And I would make sure she saw the value in what we were doing.

Ananya

The ceremony felt like a blur—a series of rituals, prayers, and movements that all merged into one. The priest chanted sacred mantras, and I repeated them, not entirely understanding the significance of the words but following along because that was what was expected. It was like I was watching myself from afar, detached from the reality of what was happening.

I stood beside Aarav, feeling his presence like a weight beside me. His calm demeanor, his stoic expression—it was all so intense. And then there was me, standing here with my heart pounding in my chest, unsure of what to feel, unsure of what to do.

Aarav

I could sense her discomfort as the ceremony continued. Every now and then, I would glance at her. She was still distant, her gaze never fully meeting mine. But it was fine. This would take time. I would give her time. But she had made her choice, and now we were here, bound together by tradition, by our families, and by the future we would build together.

The priest handed us the sacred fire, and we began the first of the seven vows, the Saptapadi. Each vow was a promise, a commitment to our life ahead. With every step we took, I felt her hesitation, but I held her hand firmly, assuring her without words that this was the right choice, that she was making the right choice.

Ananya

With each step, the weight of the vows we were taking settled on my chest. The fire in front of us flickered, casting shadows on Aarav's face, and for the first time since the ceremony began, I looked at him. Really looked at him.

He was calm, controlled, as always, but there was something in his eyes—a promise. A promise that this was the beginning of something he was determined to make work, even if I wasn't ready. I couldn't help but wonder if he knew how I felt. If he understood how conflicted I was.

The last vow, the final promise, was made. The priest declared us husband and wife, and the realization of what that meant hit me all at once. This was real. This wasn't just a ceremony—it was the beginning of my life with Aarav.

As the ceremony concluded and the people around us began to congratulate us, I felt the weight of everything we had just promised. My chest tightened, and despite the smile I wore, I couldn't shake the feeling of being trapped.

Aarav

I felt the shift. I felt it when she looked at me during the vows, the flicker of something more in her eyes, something beyond the reluctance. It wasn't much, but it was there. She would come to see it. She would understand that this was for the best.

As we walked out of the mandap, hand in hand, the music swelling around us, I couldn't help but feel a sense of victory. This was the first step. And no matter how difficult it got, I would make sure she never regretted this moment. I would protect her, love her, and guide her through whatever challenges lay ahead.

Ananya

I couldn't bring myself to feel the joy that everyone around me seemed to be celebrating. The moments passed in a blur, the pictures being clicked, the congratulations coming from every direction. I was married now. And there was no turning back.

But as Aarav held my hand, his touch firm, his presence unyielding, I couldn't ignore the strange pull I felt toward him. It wasn't love. It wasn't even trust yet. But it was something. Something I couldn't name, but something that was starting to change the way I saw him.