1.

AUTHOR'S POV

The night is dark, and the stars are shining brightly — as if they borrow their light from the absent moon. The grand palace glows under the silver sky, illuminated with its golden lights and royal aura.

Inside the palace, Atharv sits in the mandap, his jaw tight and eyes cold. There’s no trace of happiness on his face, only a storm brewing within. A dark aura surrounds him, silencing every whisper in the room.

On the other side, Ishani sits quietly on a chair, draped in a deep red bridal lehenga. Her chura and anklets jingle softly, completing the image of a perfect bride — the bride of Atharv Yaduvanshi. Her minimal makeup enhances her natural beauty, making her look almost ethereal, like a goddess born of moonlight.

Suddenly, there’s a knock on her door. Her friend tanishka steps in, worry flickering across her face.

“Oh Ishu, why aren’t you wearing your nath (nose ring)?” tanishka asks, picking it up gently.

“Let me help you,” she says with a smile, fixing the jewelry perfectly.

“There! Now let’s go — your hubby-to-be is waiting for you.”

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ISHANI POV

“Hubby-to-be?” I repeat with a hollow smile.
Do you think he will ever love me?

"I once loved someone who broke my heart into a thousand pieces. Sometimes I wonder — will I ever get the love I’ve always imagined?"

Before I can drown in my thoughts, a sudden knock echoes through the door. My mom steps in, her face calm yet filled with emotions.

“Ishani, let’s go,” she says softly.

“Hm,” I hum faintly, my voice barely audible.

My heartbeat quickens as I step down each stair. With every step, an unusual feeling grows inside me — a mix of fear, nervousness, and hope.
When I finally reach the hall, I feel dozens of eyes fixed on me.
Everyone is watching with admiration, their gazes making my heart race even faster.

My father walks toward me with gentle pride in his eyes. He places his hand on my head, blessing me silently, then extends his hand. I take it, my palms trembling. He leads me toward the man who is about to become my husband — Atharva Yaduvanshi.

I see his face .He has a dark aura, deep black eyes, and a strong, clenched jaw. There’s something mysterious about him — something that pulls me in even when I try not to look. Our eyes meet for a brief moment, and a strange knot twists in my stomach. I quickly lower my gaze, staring at my palms to hide my nervousness.

He extends his hand, a silent gesture for me to follow him to the mandap. My heart thuds loudly as I place my hand in his.

We stand together on the mandap. After the varmala ceremony, we sit down for the remaining rituals. The pandit begins chanting the sacred mantras. I steal small glances at Atharva from the corner of my eye — his face remains unreadable, calm yet distant, like a man carved out of stone.

When the pandit asks him to fill my hair partition with vermilion, my breath catches. As the red powder touches my scalp, I feel a sudden rush of emotion — fear, surrender, and destiny — all blending into one. He then ties the nuptial chain around my neck, sealing our bond.

The marriage is complete. We are now tied together — a bond that will last for seven lifetimes.

I bow down to take blessings from our elders, but my heart whispers a silent prayer —
Will I ever receive the love I deserve?
I know this is an arranged marriage, but somewhere deep inside, I hope that one day, the distance between us will be filled… with love.

AUTHOR'S POV

It had been two hours since Ishani arrived at the grand mansion. The endless post-marriage rituals had finally come to an end, leaving behind a silence that felt almost deafening. The maid had shown her to a large, beautifully decorated room — her new world, though it felt anything but familiar.

Now, Ishani sat quietly on the edge of the bed, her fingers twisting nervously in her lap. Around her, the room bloomed with fresh red roses and jasmine, their fragrance mingling with the soft scent of sandalwood that lingered in the air. It was a scene made for celebration, yet all she felt was an ache deep in her chest — a heaviness that came from fear, confusion, and the uncertain path that awaited her.

She hadn’t changed out of her wedding lehenga. Her mother-in-law had warned her not to, not until her husband himself lifted her veil and offered her the first gift of their marriage. The thought alone sent a wave of nervousness curling in her stomach.

And then, just as her thoughts began to drown her, a soft knock broke the stillness. Her heart skipped a beat, racing wildly in her chest. Her palms turned cold, and her throat tightened as she tried to find her voice.

“Come in,” she whispered, barely audible — her words trembling as much as her heart.

ISHANI POV

It had only been a few seconds since the soft knock echoed through the room when the door slowly opened. To my surprise, it wasn’t him — it was my mother-in-law standing at the doorstep with a warm smile.

“Ishani beta, take off your lehenga. You must be uncomfortable,” she said gently.

For a moment, I just stared at her, completely confused. My mind flashed back to her earlier words — you must not remove it until your husband lifts your veil. And now she was saying the exact opposite.

“But… aunty—” I began softly, unsure how to respond.

She stopped me mid-sentence, her tone affectionate yet firm. “Aunty?” she repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Call me Mumma, beta. You’re my daughter now.”

Something in her voice touched my heart. That one word — daughter — carried warmth, a kind of affection I hadn’t expected here. A small smile tugged at my lips as I whispered, “But…”

“No buts,” she said quickly, smiling wider this time. “It’s only Maa now.”

“Okay, Maa,” I replied, my voice low but filled with respect.

“That’s better,” she said softly. “Now, tell me, what were you about to say?”

I hesitated for a second before finally asking, “Maa, before some hours you told me not to take off my lehenga, and now you’re saying I should. What’s the reason?”

Her expression shifted instantly — the gentle warmth in her eyes turned serious. For a moment, she looked as if she didn’t want to answer. But when her gaze met mine — perhaps seeing the confusion in my innocent eyes — she sighed deeply.

“Actually, Ishani,” she began, her voice careful, “some urgency has come up. Atharva had to go to the office… he might not come home tonight.”

Her words hit me harder than I expected.
Who goes to work on their wedding night? And even if he had to, why wouldn’t he come home afterward? A thousand questions rushed through my mind, but deep down, I already knew the answer that I don’t deserve love.

For a second, everything inside me went still. The air felt heavy, pressing down on my chest. I had told myself not to expect anything — not warmth, not affection — but still, hearing that he wouldn’t come… it pierced something deep within me.

I swallowed hard, forcing a small nod, trying to keep my expression neutral. I didn’t want her to see the storm of emotions swirling inside me — the disappointment, the loneliness, the sting of being left alone on the very first night.

“I… I’ll just freshen up, Maa,” I said quickly, excusing myself before my voice could betray me.

As I stepped into the washroom and closed the door behind me, the silence returned — only this time, it felt heavier, almost suffocating.

I slowly unpinned my lehenga, letting the heavy fabric slip away from my body.
My steps felt weak as I walked beneath the shower.
The moment the cold drops of water touched my skin, something inside me broke — all the emotions I had hidden beneath that bridal attire began to pour out.

At first, it was just a tear… then another… and before I knew it, I was crying — crying harder than I ever had before. My chest ached with each sob, my eyes burned from the tears mixing with the cold water.
The salty taste of my tears reminded me of the bitter truth of my life — that no matter how much I dream, I will always remain unloved, unseen, unwanted.

My knees began to tremble as if they could no longer carry the weight of my heart. I sank to the floor, curling into myself, wrapping my arms tightly around my knees. My body shook with silent cries, and my chest felt unbearably heavy as memories from the past flashed before my eyes — every heartbreak, every broken promise, every moment where love slipped away before it could even begin.

The water kept running, but I couldn’t move. I felt numb — cold not just from the shower, but from the emptiness that filled me.

After what felt like forever — maybe an hour, maybe more — I finally turned off the water. My reflection in the mirror looked like a stranger. I slipped into a plain kurti, simple and quiet, just like the emptiness I carried inside.

Convincing myself that this was just a nightmare — that maybe tomorrow would bring something softer, something less painful — I lay down on the bed. My eyes closed slowly, and I whispered a silent wish for a peaceful morning that, deep down, I wasn’t sure would ever come.

                   💌 Author’s Note

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Thank you for giving my story a chance. Stay with me till the end — it’s going to be an emotional and beautiful journey! 🌹

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