✨5. A contract

Riya and Niharika arrived at Shivaay's room. The moment Niharika stepped inside, her breath hitched. The room was exquisitely decorated for their wedding night, a stark reminder of the reality she was now a part of. Strings of jasmine flowers hung from the ceiling, their fragrance blending with the soft scent of rose petals that adorned the bed. Dim, warm lighting from intricately designed lamps bathed the room in a golden hue, creating an atmosphere of romance that only deepened her unease.

Niharika's palms grew clammy, and her heart thudded louder with each step. She glanced at Riya, hoping for some assurance.

Riya smiled brightly, though her tone held a teasing edge. "Bhabhi, everything looks so perfect, doesn’t it? All the best for your new life! Shivaay bhai might seem like a stone, but maybe tonight, he’ll melt a little. Who knows?" She winked playfully before turning to leave.

"Riya, wait—" Niharika began, but Riya cut her off with a grin.

"Don’t worry too much, bhabhi. You’ll be fine. Trust me." With that, Riya stepped out, leaving Niharika standing in the grand room, alone.

The silence felt deafening. Her chest tightened as her eyes darted around the space, taking in every detail of the overwhelming decor. She clutched her dupatta, seeking some sense of comfort in its familiar fabric. Unable to bear the stifling atmosphere, she slowly made her way to the balcony.

The cool night breeze brushed against her face as she stepped outside. The vast expanse of the Ranawat estate lay before her, shimmering under the moonlight. But instead of awe, Niharika felt a pang of sadness.

Looking up at the sky, she folded her hands and whispered, "Maa... Shikha Maa... what’s happening to me? How did my life come to this? Why does it feel like I’ve been thrown into a storm with no anchor?"

Tears welled in her eyes as she remembered her late mother, the only person who had ever made her feel truly loved. "I don’t know what to do, Maa. I’m scared. Scared of him, of this place, of everything. Please... please guide me."

The gentle rustling of leaves and the distant sound of a fountain were her only replies. Niharika stood there for a moment longer, drawing in the calming night air, before turning back to face the room—and the uncertain future waiting for her inside.

As Niharika stood by the balcony, lost in her thoughts, the sound of the door creaking open startled her. Her heart raced as she turned to see Shivaay entering the room. His tall, imposing figure was unmistakable. He glanced at her briefly, his expression unreadable—a cold, detached poker face that gave away nothing.

Shivaay was speaking into his phone, his tone sharp and authoritative. “I don’t care about excuses. It should’ve been done already. Handle it, or you’ll regret it,” he snapped, ending the call with a frustrated huff.

Niharika’s pulse quickened as his intense gaze momentarily shifted to her. Remembering the ritual, she quickly reached for the corner of her dupatta and draped it over her face, veiling herself in modesty. Though he had seen her face during the wedding ceremonies, this tradition symbolized the bride’s respect and shyness on the wedding night.

Shivaay’s eyes narrowed slightly as he noticed her gesture but said nothing. Instead, he walked further into the room, exuding an air of dominance and indifference. His presence filled the space, making it feel even smaller to her.

She lowered her gaze, her hands fidgeting with the edge of her veil, unsure of what to expect next. The silence in the room was thick, punctuated only by the sound of Shivaay removing his watch and placing it on the bedside table.

He finally spoke, his voice low but firm. “You don’t need to pretend around me. These rituals, these traditions… they mean nothing to me.”

His words cut through the quiet, making Niharika flinch slightly. She remained silent, not daring to lift her eyes to meet his.

Shivaay took a step closer, his tone growing colder. “Let’s get one thing clear—you might be my wife now, but that doesn’t mean I wanted this. I didn’t choose you. This is nothing more than a deal, and you’re just a pawn in it.”

Niharika’s heart sank at his harsh words. She had braced herself for his indifference, but hearing it out loud felt like a blow. She swallowed hard, trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill.

Without waiting for a response, Shivaay moved past her toward the couch in the corner of the room. “You can take the bed,” he said curtly. “I have no interest in playing the doting husband.”

With that, he picked up his laptop and began typing, as though she weren’t even there. Niharika stood frozen for a moment, her world spinning as she processed his words. Slowly, she walked to the bed, her steps hesitant, the weight of his indifference pressing heavily on her chest.

As she sat on the edge of the bed, she whispered softly to herself, "Maa, give me strength."

Shivaay’s cold demeanor remained as he abruptly stood from the couch and left the room, leaving Niharika alone with her turbulent emotions. The moment the door shut behind him, her tears finally broke free. She sat silently, letting the sorrow wash over her in waves.

A while later, the door creaked open again. Startled, Niharika quickly wiped her face and adjusted her veil, composing herself as Shivaay walked in, holding a stack of papers in his hand. His expression was as unreadable as before, but his purposeful strides conveyed an unyielding determination.

He stopped in front of her, placing the papers on the bedside table with a thud. His piercing gaze met hers briefly before he spoke, his tone devoid of warmth. “Here,” he said, sliding the papers toward her. “Sign these.”

Niharika looked at the documents, her hands trembling slightly. “What are these?” she asked hesitantly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Shivaay crossed his arms, his towering figure looming over her. “These papers state that you are my wife only in name. You will have every material comfort you desire, but you will not have my love or my acceptance. This marriage means nothing to me, and I want to make that clear right from the start.”

His words struck her like a slap, leaving her stunned. She stared at the papers, her mind racing as she tried to comprehend the situation.

“But…why?” she finally managed to ask, her voice quivering. “Why would you marry me if you didn’t want this?”

Shivaay’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, a flicker of something unreadable passed through his eyes. “I didn’t have a choice,” he admitted coldly. “My father made sure of that. But now that it’s done, I’ll control what happens next.”

Niharika’s heart ached at his brutal honesty, but she mustered the courage to speak. “You think a piece of paper can define this marriage? Is that all this is to you?”

“To me, this is nothing more than an obligation,” Shivaay replied icily. “So, either you sign these papers and make this arrangement clear, or we’ll both be trapped in something unbearable.”

Niharika stared at him, her tears threatening to fall again. She felt crushed, but a part of her refused to back down completely. Taking a deep breath, she said, “And what if I don’t sign them?”

Shivaay smirked coldly, leaning slightly closer. “Then you’ll learn the hard way what it means to live in my world without my goodwill.”

The tension in the room was suffocating. Niharika looked at the papers again, her mind waging a battle between her pride and the harsh reality she faced.

Niharika's trembling hands reached for the pen lying beside the papers. Her heart felt heavy, each beat echoing the weight of the decision she was about to make. She looked up at Shivaay, whose cold, unrelenting gaze bore down on her, offering no solace.

She knew she had no choice. The words he had spoken were still ringing in her ears — this was not a marriage; it was a contract. Resisting would only make things harder, and she wasn’t in a position to fight back.

Her tears blurred the words on the document as she hesitated for a moment longer. “I guess this is my fate,” she whispered to herself, her voice barely audible. With a deep, shaky breath, she picked up the pen and signed her name on the papers, sealing the deal that would strip away any illusion of love or acceptance in this relationship.

Shivaay watched her with an unreadable expression, his face hard but his eyes flickering briefly with something she couldn’t identify—was it guilt? Or was it simply irritation at the situation?

As she put the pen down, he took the papers without a word and glanced at her signature, satisfied. “Good,” he said curtly, folding the documents and tucking them under his arm. “Now you understand where we stand.”

Niharika didn’t reply. Her eyes stayed downcast, her fingers clutching the edge of her veil tightly.

Shivaay turned and started to walk away, pausing briefly at the door. Without looking back, he said, “You’ll have everything you need here. Don’t expect anything more.”

And with that, he left the room, the door closing behind him with a finality that mirrored her sealed fate.

Left alone in the grand yet suffocatingly cold room, Niharika sat silently. Her tears finally fell, one after the other, soaking the fabric of her lehenga. Her heart ached, but somewhere deep inside, a tiny spark of resolve ignited.

“This is just the beginning,” she murmured to herself, wiping her tears. “I’ll find my way through this, no matter what.”