38. Wedding Album

As everyone finished their breakfast, Niharika began clearing the table, but her attention was caught by Shweta wincing slightly as she adjusted her leg.

“ma, is something wrong?” Niharika asked, concern evident in her voice.

Shweta waved her hand dismissively. “It’s nothing, beta. Just some pain in my leg. It happens sometimes.”

Niharika frowned. “Did you take any medicine?”

“I did. It’s just age catching up,” Shweta replied with a tired smile. “I’ll be fine.”

Despite Shweta’s reassurances, Niharika couldn’t ignore her discomfort. She quickly washed her hands and approached her mother-in-law.

“Come with me,” Niharika said firmly.

“Niharika, it’s not necessary—” Shweta began, but Niharika cut her off gently.

“No arguments, Saansuma. Let me help,” she said with a warm smile.

She guided Shweta to the living room sofa and made her sit comfortably. Without waiting for further protests, Niharika began massaging Shweta’s leg with gentle, precise movements.

“Beta, you don’t have to do this,” Shweta said, though her voice softened as the pain began to ease.

“It’s my responsibility to take care of you,” Niharika said softly. “You’ve done so much for this family. Let me do something for you.”

Shweta looked at her with a mix of surprise and affection. “You’re too kind, Niharika. Truly, Shivaay is lucky to have you.”

Niharika’s hands paused for a moment at the mention of Shivaay. A faint flush colored her cheeks, but she quickly resumed the massage, focusing on her task.

“Thank you,” Shweta murmured after a while, her voice filled with gratitude. “The pain has eased a lot. You have magic in your hands.”

Niharika smiled. “I’m glad it helped.”

As Shweta rested, Niharika couldn’t help but feel a sense of fulfillment. Taking care of her family was something she’d always cherished, even if her path in the household had been unconventional. And in moments like these, she felt she was truly a part of the Ranawat family.

With Anita out for work and Ivaan and Riya busy with their studies, the house felt quieter than usual. Ishaan, who had recently started stepping up in the company as a temporary replacement for Shivaay, was spending most of his time at the office, working on important tasks. His role was crucial, and he was determined to prove himself capable of handling the responsibilities that came with the job, even though the weight of his brother's absence was still evident.

Niharika, left alone at home, took this time to reflect on everything that had transpired over the past few weeks. Her thoughts constantly drifted back to Shivaay, to the promise he had made, and to the uncertainty that still lingered in the air. She wondered how he was doing in California, whether he was adjusting well, and how long it would take for him to return. The silence of the house amplified her concerns, and a deep sense of longing began to settle in her chest.

As the hours passed, Niharika found herself looking out the window, absentmindedly tracing the lines of the plants outside. Her mind wandered back to the discussions she had had with Anand and Shweta about her own future, her studies, and her potential to achieve something bigger than just being a wife. She knew she had the capability to become a great cardiologist, but with Shivaay's absence, it felt as though her dreams were just that—dreams.

Meanwhile, at the office, Ishaan was growing increasingly comfortable in his new role. Although he wasn’t yet at the level of his brother, Shivaay, he was proving to be a capable leader. His efficiency and dedication were becoming noticeable, but he couldn't help but feel the pressure of filling Shivaay's shoes. Every decision he made seemed to carry more weight than he anticipated.

Back at home, Niharika snapped back to reality as the doorbell rang, signaling the return of someone to the house. She stood up, straightened her clothes, and walked towards the door, wondering who it could be this time.

The maid entered the room with a polite knock. "Mam, Mr. Sharma, the photographer who was assigned to prepare your wedding album, has arrived," she said.

Niharika barely reacted, her mind still tangled in the memories of the past few days. She nodded absentmindedly, her gaze fixed on the wedding album that lay open in front of her. She knew this was a task she had to get over with, but the thought of revisiting the day that had marked the beginning of her complicated journey with Shivaay made her uneasy.

"Send him in," Niharika finally replied, her voice quiet.

A few moments later, Mr. Sharma entered with a box under his arm. "Good morning, Mam," he greeted with a warm smile. "I have the finalized album for you to review. I hope everything looks good."

Niharika nodded, her eyes still distant. She was not in the mood for pleasantries. "Just place it on the table," she said softly.

Mr. Sharma did as instructed, placing the album on the coffee table. He glanced at Niharika, sensing her distant mood. "I understand this might be a lot for you, Mam. If you'd like, I can leave you to look through it at your convenience."

Niharika didn't respond immediately. She picked up the album and began flipping through the pages slowly. Each page held pictures of her wedding day—each smile, each moment of joy, felt distant. As she looked at the photos, she couldn't help but feel the emotional weight they carried.

She sighed, her finger resting on one of the pictures, the one where Shivaay had his arm around her. They looked happy, but it was all an illusion, a carefully crafted image for the world to see.

After a few moments, she closed the album, her emotions swirling. "It's fine, Mr. Sharma," she said, her voice steady but tinged with a quiet sadness. "Just... please send the bill to my husband."

Mr. Sharma nodded, sensing that Niharika was not in the mood for further conversation. "Of course, Mam," he replied, giving her a respectful nod before leaving the room.

Niharika stared at the album for a moment longer, then pushed it aside, the weight of her own thoughts pressing down on her. She wasn't ready to confront the past, not today. But deep inside, she knew that one day, she would have to face it.

Niharika placed the wedding album carefully on the table, knowing it would eventually have to be shown to others. As she stood in front of the mirror, she couldn't help but take a moment to look at herself. The woman she saw staring back at her was far from the carefree girl she once was—someone who wore simple tops and jeans, who enjoyed the comfort of frocks and casual attire.

Now, she was draped in traditional sarees and suited up in outfits expected of a proper daughter-in-law, the kind of image that others demanded of her. The heavy fabric of her saree felt like an additional weight on her shoulders, a constant reminder of the roles she was expected to play.

She ran her fingers over the fabric, her gaze lingering on her reflection. The woman in the mirror didn’t feel like her. This version of Niharika looked older, more serious, more confined. The sparkle of independence she once had seemed to be dimming with each passing day. She missed her old self, the one who didn’t have to worry about living up to anyone’s expectations.

Her thoughts drifted back to the past—when she was free to be herself, when she had dreams that didn’t involve pleasing others or following the constraints of a rigid family structure. She had been so sure of her path, so full of aspirations to become a successful cardiologist, to make her own mark in the world. But now, as she looked at her reflection, she couldn’t help but feel like she had become someone else, someone she barely recognized.

The sound of footsteps approaching broke her reverie. She quickly wiped away the trace of sadness from her face and straightened her posture, ready to play her part as a daughter-in-law, a wife—someone who had to appear composed and content, even if it felt like a facade.

As the door opened, she put on a smile, concealing the turmoil beneath. She had learned to wear it well over the years.

As the door opened, Niharika quickly adjusted her expression, masking the doubts and confusion swirling inside her. She turned to face the person entering the room—her mother-in-law, Shweta.

"How’s everything going?" Shweta asked, her tone as casual as ever.

Niharika nodded, smiling politely. "All good, Maa."

Shweta noticed the wedding album on the table. "Oh, the album! Have you gone through it yet?" she asked, moving towards it.

Niharika’s hand subconsciously brushed over the fabric of her saree as she replied, "Not yet, Maa. I was just about to."

Shweta, seeming satisfied with the answer, sat on the bed and continued, "Make sure you show it to Indra and Anita. They’ll want to see how everything turned out." She paused, looking at Niharika with a slight frown. "You’re doing fine, aren’t you? With everything? Settling in, getting used to things?"

Niharika hesitated for a moment. The truth was, she wasn’t sure she was "doing fine." It was hard to pretend when she was so lost in the whirlwind of expectations, responsibilities, and a life she hadn’t fully chosen.

But instead of voicing her true feelings, she nodded, a soft smile still playing on her lips. "Yes, Maa. Just... adjusting."

Shweta looked at her for a moment longer, her eyes narrowing slightly, as though trying to read beyond the smile. But she said nothing more, only gesturing towards the album once again. "Good. Remember, Niharika, we all have our roles to play here. Just make sure you're doing your part."

Niharika nodded again, the weight of the words sinking deeper into her chest. The roles she had to play. The masks she had to wear. It was all starting to feel like a cage, and she was the bird that had forgotten what freedom felt like.

As Shweta left the room, Niharika let out a deep sigh, her fingers once again tracing the edge of the album. She felt disconnected from herself, from the dreams she once had, and from the life that she had hoped to live.

"Is this it?" she whispered to herself, her voice barely audible in the quiet of the room. "Is this the life I’m meant to have?"

She shook her head, trying to push the thoughts away. Now wasn’t the time to dwell on such things. She had responsibilities. She had to keep going. But deep down, she wondered if this was really the life she wanted—or if it was just the life she was supposed to have.