Page 10 of Mrs. Rathore
“I do understand,” he whispered. “That’s why it hurts me to see you throwing your life away like this… dragging someone else down with you.”
I turned my face away, tears stinging the corners of my eyes. “This is exactly what I want.”
Because if I couldn’t have my dream, then Aryan Rathore couldn’t have his either.
_____
So it was actually a nightmare I had convinced myself was a dream. And yet, here I was on my wedding day and getting ready as my best friends, Noor and Kavya, fluttered around me like two excited butterflies in a storm I was too numb to feel.
“You’re seriously getting married, girl?” Noor asked, raising an eyebrow at me in disbelief. She held the maang tikka delicately between her fingers, her brows furrowed in concern.
I gave her a hollow smile. “Apparently, yes.”
“Oh my God!” Kavya shrieked, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. “You’re getting married to an army officer?” Her eyes lit up with more excitement than I had felt in weeks. “That’s insane! He must be insanely handsome. I mean—army guys, Avi! They’re like… disciplined, muscular, hot, sexy, and built like Greek gods. Do you know how crazy talented they are? I always dreamed I’d marry an army officer someday, but nope. My dad decided an engineer with oily hair and a paunch is what I deserve.” She paused dramatically, then added, “And you know, army guys are like… so horny.”
“No shame, right?” Noor snapped, glaring at her while she adjusted the maang tikka on my forehead. “Can you shut up for one minute without being ridiculous?”
Kavya pouted but helped me with my jewelry, her fingers soft but efficient. She slipped the bangles onto my wrists, adjusted the anklets on my feet, clipped the nose ring, and finally clasped the necklace around my neck.
Noor worked in rhythm beside her as she was pinning up my hair into a neat bun and weaving fresh red roses through it. The fragrance clung to me like a memory. My mother’s favorite.
They began applying makeup in silence—foundation, kajal, a light shimmer. I didn’t resist. I didn’t speak.
“Avi,” Noor said gently, shaking my shoulder, pulling me back into the present. “Say something, please. You still have time. If you want to stop this, we can. I mean it. We can walk out right now, and I’ll help you do it.”
I looked into her eyes that were deep brown, full of worry and loyalty and I wished I could cry. But I couldn’t. Not anymore.
Suddenly, Kavya gasped like she'd discovered a national secret. “OH MY GOD! He is Aryan?” She held up her phone with a photo displayed. “This is him, right? This is your groom?”
I glanced at the screen. Aryan’s formal army photograph stared back at me—tall, broad-shouldered, sharp-jawed, and dangerously charming with a smirk that made the air feel warmer.
“He is so dashing,” Kavya breathed. “I mean, look at his arms! I swear those could crush watermelons. He must be like 6’2 or something. And that smile… Avi, forget marrying him, I’d settle for one night with him.”
“Kavya!” Noor and I said in unison, both shooting daggers at her.
Kavya looked sheepish for a second. “Okay, okay, I get it. I forgot, he’s that Aryan. The one who… you know…”
“The one who hit me and destroyed my career,” I said bitterly, my voice coated in venom. “Don’t forget that part.”
“He also took you to the hospital, didn’t he?” Kavya said quietly, avoiding my gaze. “I’m sorry, Avi. I just got carried away admiring his… uniform.”
“He didn’t care. You should’ve seen his face, Kavya. He looked at me like I was some inconvenience, like I was a mess he couldn’t wait to be done with. No guilt. No empathy. Just cold arrogance. And you think that man deserves admiration?”
Kavya remained silent.
“He is the devil in human form,” I hissed. “And after tonight, he’ll know what it’s like to have his life turned upside down. He may not want my sympathy now but after this marriage, he’ll beg for it.”
Before they could respond, Papa knocked and peeked in. His eyes immediately widened when he saw me, dressed in my mother’s old wedding saree. It was golden silk with faded crimson embroidery that shimmered under the light.
“You… you look just beautiful, beti,” he whispered, his voice catching. He walked in slowly, his eyes glossed with tears. “Your mother will be so proud to see you like this.”
I couldn’t look at him too long. My chest was already too tight.
Noor gently wheeled my chair out of the room and into my mother’s. Mummy lay on the bed, her skin pale and paper-thin, but her eyes lit up when she saw me.
“Avi…” she murmured, struggling to lift her head. “My beautiful girl. Look at you… you look like a dream.” Her lips trembled with emotion. “I wish I could stand beside you, hold your hand through this. But my body…” Her voice trailed off into a whisper.
“I know, Maa,” I said, touching her fingers gently. “You’re with me at every step.”
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