Abhay let out a laugh of relief, because she’d just given him something he hadn’t dared to hope for. He picked it up, and smoothly went down on one knee as he fastened the anklet around her ankle. His thumb brushed the inside of her foot, light and warm and maddeningly tender.
The cool metal slid over her skin with a faint jingle. ‘Thank you for giving me my favourite part of the ceremony,’ he said looking up at her, love glowing unabashedly in his eyes.
She blinked down at him, unable to summon words when her chest was this full. In him, she saw the glimpse of the man she had once loved, the one who smiled with mischief and kissed her wildly. This, she told herself, was the moment she married him.
When Abhay rose, the priest handed him the mangalsutra and as the chants began, he leaned forward to tie it around her neck. The black and gold beads felt cool against her collarbone, a stark contrast to the warmth radiating from the fire. Abhay’sfingers brushed the nape of her neck, leaving goosebumps in their trail as he secured the clasp.
She swallowed hard, her fingers instinctively reaching up to touch the mangalsutra, its significance undeniable.
The pandit then handed him the vermillion encased in the small platinum box. Abhay dipped his fingers into the red sindoor, and as he moved forward, she closed her eyes.
He pressed the powder into the parting of her hair with care, and a little fell onto the bridge of her nose. For all the resentment she felt toward him, there was no denying the gravity of this moment. This wasn’t a ritual she could dismiss as mere tradition. It was a claim, a promise, a binding thread between them.
His hand lingered for just a beat too long, and when her eyes fluttered open, Abhay was watching her with a possessive gleam in his eyes gnawing at her in ways she couldn’t explain.
With that, the priest raised both his hands in the air, and announced them husband and wife. Applause and whistles rang through the room, and Siya blinked as if surfacing from under water. The loudest cheer came from the first row of cushions where their friends were seated.
Meera and Kashvi blew kisses at her as Luv, Swayam, and Raghav clapped with utter joy. Next to them were seated Mihit and Neena, watching them emotionally. Neena’s eyes were red-rimmed and glistening and Mihit gave a nod to Abhay.
Her father was nowhere to be found. That wasn’t surprising to her. What was surprising was Dhruv standing at the back of the room, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. It was startling in its vulnerability. When he caught her eye, hequickly turned around and walked out of the room. Siya was momentarily thrown, unsure what to make of it.
Abhay found her hand, pulling her attention back to him.
‘You’ve officially run out of ways to escape me now,’ he said, teasing her. He smiled like he knew exactly how easily he could still do this to her.
‘Is that so?’ she narrowed her eyes at him, but a small smile broke through.
‘Absolutely,’ he whispered, tracing his thumb slowly against her pulse. Then he brought her hand to his lips and kissed it softly. ‘Now that you’re my wife, I plan on making it very hard for you to keep pretending you don’t like this.’
Her heart hammered a little too fast in her chest, and Siya realised with a dizzying clarity that this man, her husband, was going to make it very hard for her to keep her distance.
Chapter 17
For someone who had built a solid reputation around being fashionably late, sometimes accidentally and sometimes out of sheer stubbornness, Abhay was in a rush to reach office on time. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this kind of urgency in his steps. Time had a way of slipping through his fingers, but today, he had arrived half an hour early.
The saying on Siya’s coffee mug back at home was true. Love makes people do reckless, illogical, and ridiculous things.
He’d found her note on the kitchen counter, written in her cursive handwriting.Went ahead to prep for the supplier meeting today. Don’t be late!
- Siya
As if anyone else except her would give him an order like that. So he’d thrown on the first thing he found and rushed to the office, unable to tolerate her absence in his too silent apartment.
The last two days after their wedding went by in rituals and family visits, and he couldn’t find a private moment to make sure she was alright. Of course, she came back to the office as soon as she could.
He was dying to see her.
The office buzzed with its usual quiet energy as he walked through the glass doors, but it all blurred into the background when he opened her cabin door.
Her office was a perfect mirror of her personality. Curated minimalist furniture was scattered through the room, and pale oak shelves stacked with neat files and law books lined the walls.
Siya sat at her desk, jaw tight in focus, fingers flying across the keyboard. A muted grey sleeveless pantsuit hugged her like a second skin. Her hair was twisted up but not pinned well enough, strands falling to her nape. The curtains were half drawn, sunlight spilling over her in long golden streaks.
She looked like she hadn’t slept.
Abhay leaned against the doorway, letting himself have a few seconds to simply marvel at her. No matter how many times he saw her, there were still moments when he could barely believe someone so beautiful could be real.
She looked up and her fingers froze in the middle of typing as she caught him standing there. ‘Stop looking at me like that.’
