The morning sun streamed through the curtains, but Aarohi lay motionless in bed, staring at the ceiling. The events of the previous night replayed in her mind like a broken record-the exchanged rings, the applause, her father's beaming face, and Vihaan's unreadable expression.
Her engagement ring sparkled on her finger, a constant reminder of the commitment she had reluctantly made. Aarohi clenched her fist, as if that could somehow make the weight of it disappear.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on her door. "Aarohi, come downstairs. The Malhotras are coming over for breakfast," her mother called out.
She sighed. "Coming, Maa."
Dragging herself out of bed, Aarohi changed into a simple salwar kameez and went downstairs. The house was buzzing with activity-her mother supervising the cook, her father ensuring everything was perfect, and Shweta sitting on the couch, scrolling through her phone.
"You're finally awake," Shweta said with a smirk. "The star of the show has to be ready, right?"
Aarohi ignored her and sat at the dining table, wishing she could vanish for the day.
---
When Vihaan and his parents arrived, the house seemed to brighten with their presence. Dev Malhotra greeted Aarohi's father with a hearty laugh, while the two mothers exchanged pleasantries about wedding preparations.
Vihaan, however, seemed distant. He exchanged polite greetings but avoided looking directly at Aarohi. She couldn't decide if that made things easier or worse.
"Aarohi, why don't you show Vihaan around the garden?" her mother suggested, a little too cheerfully.
"I'm sure Vihaan's already seen it," Aarohi replied quickly, hoping to avoid another confrontation.
Her father shot her a pointed look. "Aarohi, go."
With no choice, she stood up and led Vihaan to the garden. The tension between them was palpable as they walked in silence, the crisp morning air doing little to ease the discomfort.
Finally, Vihaan broke the silence. "Are you going to keep avoiding me forever?"
Aarohi stopped and turned to face him. "I'm not avoiding you. I just... I don't know how to talk to you after last night."
Vihaan sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, I'm sorry for what I said. I was frustrated, and I took it out on you. That wasn't fair."
She crossed her arms. "It wasn't, but you were right about one thing-I don't want this engagement. I only agreed because I couldn't bear to see my parents disappointed."
"And you think I'm over the moon about it?" he shot back. "I didn't ask for this either, Aarohi. But we're here now, and we have to deal with it."
"I don't know if I can," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
Vihaan's expression softened. "You're not the only one who feels trapped, Aarohi. But running away isn't the answer. We owe it to our families to at least try."
"Try what?" she asked bitterly.
"To make this work," he said simply.
---
When they returned to the house, Aarohi's mother called her over to sit with the elders. The conversation was all about the wedding-venues, guest lists, and traditions. Aarohi felt like an observer in her own life, her opinions barely asked for, her wishes irrelevant.
"Aarohi, what color do you want for your wedding lehenga?" her mother asked.
She opened her mouth to answer, but her aunt interrupted. "Red, of course! It's traditional and auspicious."
Her mother nodded in agreement. "Yes, red will suit her perfectly."
Aarohi stayed silent, her fingers gripping the edge of her dupatta tightly.
Vihaan, sitting across from her, noticed her discomfort. "I think Aarohi should decide for herself," he said, his voice calm but firm.
The room fell silent for a moment. Aarohi looked at him in surprise, but his expression was unreadable.
Her mother laughed nervously. "Of course, of course. Aarohi, what do you think?"
"Red is fine," she said quietly, not wanting to prolong the conversation.
---
Later that evening, after all the guests had left, Aarohi found herself alone in her room. The events of the day weighed heavily on her, and for the first time, she allowed herself to cry.
She sat on the floor, hugging her knees, as tears streamed down her face. She thought of her father's proud smile, her mother's excitement, and Shweta's teasing remarks. They were all so happy, so content with the engagement.
But what about her?
Her phone buzzed with a message from Tanya: How are you holding up?
Aarohi stared at the screen, unable to type a response. She didn't even know how she was holding up anymore.
---
Meanwhile, Vihaan sat in his study, staring at the ring box on his desk. He hadn't opened it since the engagement, and he wasn't sure why he hadn't returned it to its proper place.
His father entered the room, a glass of whiskey in hand. "You're thinking too much, son," Dev said, sitting down across from him.
Vihaan sighed. "I just... I don't know if this is the right thing to do, Dad. Aarohi and I... we're too different. I don't see how this can work."
Dev smiled knowingly. "No marriage is perfect, Vihaan. It takes time, effort, and patience. And sometimes, it takes stepping out of your comfort zone."
Vihaan nodded but remained unconvinced. He wasn't sure if stepping out of his comfort zone was enough to bridge the gap between him and Aarohi.
---
The next morning, Aarohi woke up with a heavy heart but a determined mind. She couldn't change the past, and she couldn't disappoint her family. If this was her reality, she would face it head-on.
She put on her engagement ring and walked downstairs, ready to face another day of planning and preparations. But deep down, she knew the storm inside her was far from over.