Chapter 4

The meeting with Ram Uncle and Mr. Gupta lingered in my mind long after I left the restaurant. Driving back to the mansion, I replayed their words over and over again, trying to make sense of it all. The idea of marriage—to someone I'd never met—felt absurd, but it was the weight behind Mr. Gupta's plea that unsettled me the most.

There was something in his eyes, a mixture of desperation and hope, that I couldn't ignore. He believed in me. But why? What could possibly make a man so certain that I, a stranger, was the right choice for his granddaughter?

By the time I reached the mansion, I couldn't shake the question. I poured myself a drink, staring out at the sprawling grounds that stretched endlessly before me, and debated whether to even pursue this further. But the question gnawed at me until I finally gave in.

I pulled out my phone and called Ram Uncle. It was late, but he answered almost immediately.

"Veer," he said, his tone calm and expectant. "I figured you'd call."

"How is Mr. Gupta so sure about me?" I asked without preamble. "He doesn't know me. Why would he trust me with something as important as his granddaughter's life?"

There was a pause on the other end before Ram Uncle spoke. "Mr. Gupta is an old friend of mine, Veer. We go back decades, to the days when your father and I were building our empires. He's a good man, but he's not naïve. He wouldn't have proposed this if he didn't believe you were the right person."

"That doesn't answer my question," I pressed.

"Veer," Ram Uncle said with a sigh, "you may not see it, but you've built a reputation—one that goes beyond your business acumen. People see you as reliable, honorable, and trustworthy. Mr. Gupta has heard about you from me and others. He knows you're not the type to exploit his granddaughter or treat her poorly. That's enough for him."

I leaned back in my chair, staring at the ceiling. Reliable. Honorable. Trustworthy. Those words felt almost foreign to me, like they described someone else. I had spent so many years building walls around myself, keeping everyone at a distance, that I couldn't fathom how anyone could see me that way.

"Do you believe that, Uncle?" I asked quietly.

"Yes," he said without hesitation. "You may not realize it, Veer, but you've always been a good man. And this? This is your chance to do something meaningful—not just for yourself, but for someone who truly needs it."

His words hung in the air long after the call ended. I sat there for a long time, swirling the amber liquid in my glass, weighing my options.

By the time the clock struck midnight, I had made up my mind. This wasn't about love or even convenience—it was about doing the right thing. Tara's grandfather had put his trust in me, and for reasons I didn't fully understand, I couldn't let him down.

I would marry Tara Gupta.

I didn't know what the future would hold or whether this would work out, but I would give it a chance. Maybe, just maybe, this was the path I was meant to take.

The next morning, I called Mr. Gupta. His voice was laced with anxiety when he answered, but it softened when I told him my decision.

"Thank you, Mr. Mehra," he said, his voice trembling slightly. "You've done more for me and Tara than you'll ever know."

"I'll do my best," I replied, my tone steady. "I hope you're right about this."

"I know I am," he said firmly. "Tara may be hesitant at first—this arrangement isn't something she wanted—but I believe she'll come to see the kind of man you are. Let me give you her number. I think it's best if you call her directly."

He recited the number, and I noted it down. After the call, I stared at the digits on the paper for what felt like an eternity. Calling her felt like crossing a line I wasn't sure I was ready to cross. But I had made my decision, and there was no turning back.

That evening, after a long day at work, I sat in my study, the paper with Tara's number still in front of me. My hand hovered over the phone, hesitating. How do you even begin a conversation like this?

Finally, I dialed the number, and after a few rings, a soft, cautious voice answered.

"Hello?"

"Tara Gupta?" I asked, my voice more formal than I intended.

"Yes, speaking. Who is this?"

"This is Veeranshu Mehra," I said, pausing to let the name sink in. "Your grandfather spoke to you about me, I assume."

There was a long silence on the other end, and I could almost hear her processing what I'd just said.

"He mentioned... something," she said hesitantly. "But I wasn't sure if it was serious."

"It is," I replied. "I've spoken with your grandfather and agreed to his proposal. I know this must feel sudden for you—it is for me as well—but I'd like to meet you and discuss this in person."

Another pause. When she spoke again, her voice was calmer but still tinged with uncertainty. "I... suppose that makes sense. When do you want to meet?"

"Tomorrow evening," I said. "Tell me where you're comfortable, and I'll be there."

She suggested a quiet café not far from her school, and we agreed on a time.

"Tara," I said before hanging up, "I know this situation is far from ideal, but I want you to know that I'll approach it with honesty and respect. That's all I can promise for now."

There was a soft sigh on the other end. "Thank you, Mr. Mehra. I'll see you tomorrow."

As I hung up the phone, I felt a strange mixture of anticipation and dread. This was uncharted territory for me—something completely outside the realm of my carefully constructed life. But beneath the uncertainty, there was a quiet resolve.

I didn't know what kind of person Tara was or how this arrangement would unfold, but I knew one thing: I would approach it the same way I approached everything in my life—with determination and a commitment to seeing it through.

For the first time in a long time, I felt the faint stirrings of something unfamiliar. Not excitement, not fear, but a cautious hope. Maybe this was the beginning of something I didn't yet understand.

A/N THERE IS A TARGET PEOPLE 200 VOTES ONLY THEN THE NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE UPLOADED