“You’re drooling,” Reyansh teases.
I barely acknowledge him. My eyes are fixed on Sana as she walks toward me, her mother by her side.
She looks beautiful in a simple peach salwar suit, the soft fabric draping elegantly around her. Her long hair falls loosely over her shoulders, framing her face in a way that makes my breath catch.
“Can you blame me?” I respond to Reyansh, unable to look away.
As Sana walks closer, our eyes meet. She offers me a small smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. My chest tightens, but I force a smile, even as nagging doubts from earlier creep in —something’s not right.
After what feels like a lifetime, she finally reaches me, and a fierce calm washes over me, grounding every restless thought. Her mom stands beside her, her expression warm yet laced with emotion.
Gently, I take Sana’s hands in mine, feeling a faint tremble run through her fingers, and the unease in my chest flares up again. God, is this just the usual anxiety women feel at times like this… or something deeper? Whatever it is, I won’t rest until I find out.
Her mom presses a gentle kiss to Sana’s forehead before turning to me. With tears glistening in her eyes, she cups my cheeks. “Aditya, my daughter has always been my pride, my little girl. And today, I entrust her to you. Take care of her… always.”
A lump rises in my throat, and I tighten my hold on Sana’s hands. “I promise, Aunty. She’s my world, and I’ll cherish her, always.”
Her mom nods, her eyes full of love as she leans in and presses a gentle kiss to my forehead. “I wish you both all the happiness in the world.”
With one last glance at her daughter, she steps down from the stage and makes her way to the front row. I watch as she takes her seat, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.
Turning back to Sana, I see her blinking rapidly, trying to hold back her tears. But when one sneakily escapes, trailing down her cheek, I instinctively reach up and brush it away with my thumb.
“Hey,” I murmur softly, “no tears today.”
She tries to smile, but her eyes betray her emotions. “I—I don’t even know why I’m crying,”
I give her hands a reassuring squeeze. “Because this is a big moment,” I say, my voice low so only she can hear. “I love you.”
She holds my gaze for a long moment, and just like that, the hesitation I saw earlier softens—but the sadness remains. Damn, how long until I find out what the hell is weighing on her and put an end to this torment for both of us?
Reyansh steps forward, a wide grin on his face as he opens the two red velvet boxes, revealing the diamond rings nestledinside. “Alright, lovebirds, time to make it official,” he says, earning a few chuckles from the guests.
I reach for her ring, smiling at her. Not taking my eyes off hers, I lift her hand and slide the ring onto her finger. Then, without holding back, I bring her hand to my lips and press a soft kiss against her fingers. “I still can’t believe I get to call you mine. You’re the most beautiful part of my life.”
With a teary smile, she picks up my ring and gently slips it onto my finger.
“You were always meant to be in my life, Aditya,” she smiles. “I just didn’t realise how much until now.”
I so badly want to cup her face and kiss her, to make this moment ours. But the applause around us reminds me now isn’t the time.
So instead, I lace my fingers with hers and turn to the guests. I can’t wait for some alone time with her, away from the crowd. More than that, I can’t wait to give her the surprise I’ve been holding close to my chest.
But as the guests start coming up one by one, I know there are formalities to get through before it’s just the two of us. I smile and nod, accepting their well wishes, but my attention never truly wavers from Sana. She stands beside me, smiling, her hand still tucked in mine.
Soon, my parents step onto the stage, joined by my mom’s oldest friend. The older woman congratulates us with her usual air of arrogance and then turns to my mom. “So, tell us about Sana’s family, Seema. What do they do?”
My mom gives a slight, almost disappointed shrug. “Her father passed away couple of years ago. It’s just her mom now. Sana helps run their small café.”
“Mom…” I say, my voice low and warning, but she just shoots me a look that says,I didn’t say anything wrong. Before I can even open my mouth again, the older woman turns to me.
“A simple café? Quite a contrast to your business background, Aditya.” She smiles politely, though there’s a subtle edge beneath it. “But I suppose love doesn’t see class.”
That’s it. My jaw tightens, ready to snap back, but before I can, Sana’s fingers tighten around mine.
“Yes, Aunty, I own a café,” Sana says, her voice steady with quiet confidence. “It may not be grand, but it means the world to me. And I take great pride in what my father built.” There’s no hesitation, no embarrassment—just pure, unwavering dignity and pride. And as she speaks, I can’t help but feel a swell of admiration for her.
The older woman offers a tight, measured smile, but the judgement in her eyes lingers. Then, without another word, she turns to my parents, exchanging a look—one I can’t quite read. My parents remain silent, their expressions carefully composed, before they step down from the stage.
