Chapter 39

The evening unfolded with a quiet sophistication, the kind that spoke volumes without demanding attention. The venue for Maya and Madhun Datta's thirtieth wedding anniversary was an opulent blend of tradition and modernity. Soft golden fairy lights twinkled across the vast garden space, their glow accentuating the vibrant marigold garlands and fresh jasmine strands that adorned every corner. The faint aroma of sandalwood incense wafted through the air, mingling with the sound of laughter and light music.

Niharika stood near the entryway, smoothing down the pleats of her saree for what felt like the hundredth time. It was a rich emerald green, the fabric shimmering faintly under the lights, with intricate gold embroidery tracing the edges. The blouse was understated, modestly cut to cover her back and shoulders while blending seamlessly into the ensemble. The saree hugged her waist delicately, but she'd draped the pallu carefully to conceal her stomach, a choice she made with deliberation.

Her hair, caramel-highlighted and cascading just below her chest, was styled into a neat low elegant ponytail, adorned with a tiny cluster of fresh jasmine. She touched the small gold jhumkas that hung from her ears and adjusted the delicate mangalsutra that rested lightly against her collarbone. Her reflection in the mirror caught her eye, and she paused. You're just fine, she told herself, forcing a smile before stepping into the throng of guests.

~•~

The evening progressed smoothly, with Niharika playing her part as a gracious hostess. She moved among the guests, greeting them with a polite smile, ensuring their comfort, and occasionally stopping for brief conversations. Maya had been particularly effusive in her praise.

"Niharika, you're handling everything beautifully," Maya said, holding her arm lightly. "I couldn't have asked for a better daughter-in-law."

Niharika returned the compliment with a shy, "Thank you, Aunty. It's all because of your guidance," though inwardly, she was battling her nerves. Her heart raced with every glance she felt lingering on her.

When the speeches began, the focus shifted to the stage where Maya, Madhun, and Mayank stood under a spotlight. Madhun looked regal in a navy sherwani, his salt-and-pepper hair lending him an air of authority, while Maya shone in a golden saree that complemented his attire. Mayank, standing between them in a tailored black suit, looked every bit the confident son, his presence commanding the room effortlessly.

Niharika, however, remained rooted near the back of the crowd, her hands clasped together as she listened. She smiled softly as Madhun recounted stories of their life together, his words drawing laughter and applause.

But just as Madhun was concluding his speech, Mayank took the mic from him, his voice cutting through the murmurs of the crowd. "One moment, Dad," he said, his tone calm but carrying an unmistakable weight.

The guests quieted, their attention turning to him with anticipation.

"There's something I'd like to share with everyone," Mayank began, his gaze sweeping over the crowd before landing squarely on Niharika.

Her heart stopped.

"For the past few months, my family and I have been keeping something to ourselves," he said, his voice steady. "But tonight feels like the perfect occasion to share this with all of you. I'd like to introduce the newest member of the Datta family—my wife, Niharika."

The crowd erupted in gasps, followed by a wave of murmured excitement. All eyes turned toward her.

Niharika froze, her breath catching in her throat. She felt her cheeks flush, her pulse thundering in her ears as Mayank descended from the stage.

His strides were deliberate, his eyes never leaving hers. When he reached her, he extended a hand, his expression soft yet insistent. "Come with me," he said quietly, his voice gentle but leaving no room for refusal.

Niharika hesitated for a heartbeat, then placed her hand in his. The warmth of his palm steadied her, and she allowed him to lead her toward the stage.

As they climbed the steps, the spotlight followed them, bathing them in its glow. She felt the weight of the room's attention bearing down on her, but Mayank's steady presence beside her gave her the courage to keep walking.

Once on stage, Maya and Madhun stepped aside to make room for her. "Everyone," Mayank said, his voice carrying over the crowd. "Meet my wife, Niharika Datta."

The applause was immediate, loud, and heartfelt. Maya and Madhun beamed, their pride evident as they stood beside her. Near the front of the crowd, Abhijeet and Yangeeta exchanged pleased glances, their approval shining through their smiles.

As the evening continued, the mood shifted to celebration. The music grew livelier, and the guests filled the dance floor. Mayank turned to Niharika, holding out his hand once more. "Shall we?"

She blinked at him, momentarily startled. "Dance?"

"Of course," he said, his smile teasing. "It's a celebration, isn't it?"

Reluctantly, she placed her hand in his. He led her to the center of the floor, where the music slowed, setting the tone for a graceful dance.

His hand settled lightly on her waist, while the other held hers securely. They began to sway in time with the music, her saree flowing gently with their movements.

"You look beautiful tonight," he murmured, his voice low enough that only she could hear.

Her cheeks flushed, and she looked away, murmuring, "Thank you."

Mayank studied her for a moment, sensing the unease she tried so hard to mask. But he didn't press her, choosing instead to guide her through the dance with practiced ease.

~•~

As the night drew to a close, the guests began to leave, each offering words of praise for the Dattas and their hospitality. Niharika stayed in the background, ensuring everything was in order.

At one point, Mayank maneuvered her closer to a group of older women who were deep in conversation. Pretending to discuss something with her, he allowed her to overhear their words.

"That girl, Niharika, she's a gem," one auntie was saying. "Such poise and grace. Mayank is lucky to have her."

Niharika's heart swelled at the unexpected praise. She glanced at Mayank, who was watching her with a knowing smile.

When the last guest left, Maya and Madhun bid them goodnight, leaving Mayank and Niharika alone.

"You were amazing tonight," Mayank said as they stood in the now-quiet venue.

She smiled politely, but the compliment made her self-conscious. She instinctively pulled the pallu of her saree tighter around her stomach.

He frowned slightly. "Why do you do that?" he asked, his tone gentle but insistent. "I'm telling you, you look good."

She tried to laugh it off. "It's nothing."

But before she could step away, he reached out, pulling her close. His arms wrapped around her, his breath warm against her ear as he whispered, "Don't undervalue yourself. You look stunning."

Her resolve wavered, her heart fluttering at his words. But as his hand brushed near her waist, panic overtook her. She quickly stepped out of his hold, masking her discomfort with a smile.

"Let's go home," she said softly.

He nodded, though confusion lingered in his eyes. As they left the venue, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to her silence than she was letting on. She was comfortable to my touch, then why was she running away when I hold her? He thought.

But his mind stopped halfway. She was comfortable with my touch. The thought itself made him smile.

🩷