She didn’t voice the thought yet. Mishti simply lifted it from the box and placed it around her neck. Before she could hook it herself, Karan’s fingers brushed the nape of her neck and fastened it for her. She let him. Their eyes met again in the mirror, but Karan was the first to look away…again.
Standing behind her, he leaned toward the dressing table, took a pinch of sindoor from the open dibbi, and gently filled theparting of her hair. Not too much. Just enough to make her look married.And his.
Mishti was taken aback by the gesture.
She wanted to speak to him. Say something. Anything to break the heavy, cold silence that had settled between them since that morning, ever since he had heard her mention London again.
But Karan didn’t linger. His phone rang that very moment, and he turned away, answering the call, telling Rajat he was coming to his room. Rajat probably needed something. After all, Karan was the groom’s best friend.
And just like that, Mishti was left alone.
She stared at her reflection in the mirror, the red of her lehenga, the sindoor, the mangalsutra—all of it staring back at her. Karan was deliberately avoiding the conversation. She could feel it. And his silence was slowly breaking her.
****************
The marriage rituals began. Mishti and Karan brought Avni forward together, guiding her outside to the mandap. Abhimanyu, though Avni’s brother as well, stood beside Rajat instead, along with Kanika and Komal. VK’s eyes brimmed with tears as he watched the little girl he had raised as his own all these years, now grown, now a bride, now becoming his daughter-in-law. He couldn’t have asked for anything more.
Once Avni was settled beside Rajat, Mishti and Karan moved aside, standing together as silent witnesses while the couple followed the priest’s instructions. The chants filled the air, but there was something else flowing quietly between Mishti and Karan.
Every time their eyes met, they both were pulled back to their own wedding. It had been nothing like this. There had been no warmth, no quiet love. From his side, it had been cold,empty of emotion. From Mishti’s, it had been fear, nervousness, uncertainty, not knowing what she was even allowed to hope for.
And yet, standing there now, watching Avni and Rajat begin their life together, they couldn’t stop remembering those moments.
Their marriage, bitter as its beginning had been, had still brought them here. To this moment. To this place where they now felt those feelings more than they had ever said aloud.
Mishti had always had those feelings for him. But Karan never had, or at least, he had never voiced them.
For him, witnessing this marriage and subconsciously linking it to his own felt like being forced to confront his past mistakes. Mishti watched his expressions change. She saw how deeply he was processing all this and how it hurt him. Karan exhaled, blinking hard and steadied himself, just as the priest called them forward for the kanyadaan ritual.
They stepped ahead and performed the ritual with utmost care and sincerity, their gazes meeting again and again as they did exactly as the priest instructed. When the rituals concluded, and Mishti and Karan placed Avni’s hand into Rajat’s, Karan pressed a kiss to his sister’s forehead. It was soft, protective, and full of brotherly affection. He then patted Rajat’s back once, as if handing over a piece of his heart, silently asking him to keep Avni safe, protected, and loved for the rest of her life.
Rajat nodded in return, as though making that promise without words.
As the pheras began, Mishti and Karan stood with the rest of the family, showering rose petals as Avni and Rajat completed the final rituals, sealing their marriage, stepping into a new life together, and becoming husband and wife.
***************
The reception was scheduled for late evening.
Mishti had changed into a red saree by then, paired with a different set of jewellery. Everything was minimal, except for the mangalsutra, which stood out distinctly. Karan had chosen it with care. The design was exactly to her taste, more black beads, less gold, delicate yet meaningful. He had not missed that detail.
She was in Avni’s room, helping her get ready for the reception. The two of them were alone when Avni noticed Mishti’s fingers repeatedly moving to her neck, touching the mangalsutra without her even realising she was doing it.
“Oh,” Avni said suddenly, her eyes narrowing slightly in observation. “I didn’t notice this until now. When did you get it?”
Mishti smiled. “Karan got it.”
Avni’s face lit up, not just because her brother had bought a mangalsutra for his wife, but because of the pride with which Mishti said it. That alone told her more than words ever could.
Avni studied her more closely then. “This glow on your face,” she said slowly, “it’s different today, you know? It can’t just be the makeup.”
Mishti froze.
“And one minute. What’s this?” she continued, pointing instantly to the crook of Mishti’s neck.
Mishti did not even understand what she meant at first. She moved quickly to the mirror, and that’s when her eyes landed on the reflection of the love bite. Her eyes widened.
She already had a few on her body from the night before. Thankfully, most of them were hidden in places her outfit did not reveal. The ones near her navel and cleavage she had carefully concealed with makeup. But this one was different. It sat right below her ear, slightly behind, just along her neck.
