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As per customs, I step forward and bend slightly to touch my father-in-law’s feet—recalling how Devika mentioned doing this every morning for over a year after her marriage to Aksh. But before I can complete the gesture, a firm yet gentle hand stops me.

Pratap Walia lifts me upright and pats my cheek instead, the gesture surprisingly paternal. “No need for this, beta,” he says softly. “Congratulations on the wedding.”

His eyes crinkle with kindness as he notices my obvious nervousness. “You’re part of the family now, Simran. This is your home. You don’t need to feel nervous.”

His words are kind, but they only make the lump in my throat tighten.

“Thank you,” I manage to say.

I’m a Walia now—a name that carries so much weight, so much expectations. All my life, I’ve been fiercely independent, answering to no one but myself. And now, I’m a part of this huge family, with its traditions, its politics, and its constant scrutiny.

As everyone ushers us inside, I catch Vishnu watching me with concern. He knows me too well. He knows how hard this transition will be for me. But what choice do I have? I have to somehow find a way to make this work—for Veer and for our family’s sake.

Vishnu places a hand on my back, a gesture of silent support. I glance at him, and he gives me a small nod as if to say, You’ve got this.

I manage a weak smile as Aksh steps forward. His polite congratulations do little to ease the storm brewing inside me.

“You gave us quite a shock, Simran,” he says, and I know exactly what he means.Veer’s secret.

Before I can fumble for a response, Pratap Walia intervenes firmly, much to my surprise. “Aksh, didn’t I make this clear to everyone in the family? Let bygones be bygones. We are not here to dwell on the past. We’re moving forward now. Simran is new to the family, and I want her to feel welcomed here in this house.”

My eyes instinctively find Vishnu’s, searching for answers. The knowing look between father and son tells me everything—this acceptance, this fresh start, it’s all Vishnu’s doing. My husband is trying to smooth my path into this family despite everything I’ve done.

Sensing the tension, Aksh raises his hands in mock surrender, his expression sheepish.

“I didn’t mean to hurt her,” Aksh defends himself. “I just—”

“It’s okay, Aksh,” Vishnu cuts in. “You have every right to talk freely with Simran. We’re family, after all.” He glances at our sleepy son. “But first, let’s get inside before Veer becomes cranky. We’re too jet-lagged to handle his mood swings today.”

The men chuckle lightly. The servants stand to the side, holding out trays of sweets and flowers, while someone whispers about bringing out the aarti thali.

Vishnu shifts closer to me, leaning down to murmur in my ear. “See? Not so bad.”

I glance at him, a slight frown on my face.

“Not yet,” I whisper back, my nerves still gnawing at me as I glance at Veer, who starts fussing in his grandfather’s arms, his tiny hands reaching out towards me. I instinctively take him back into my arms and get ready to take my first steps into the Walia Mansion. Just as I’m about to cross the threshold, a familiar voice halts me in my tracks.

“Stop right there!”

The silence that follows is deafening. My heart stutters as I look up to see Meher and Devika stepping forward with puja thalis in their hands. My two best friends—or rather, my former best friends. Tears spring to my eyes instantly. One secret. One massive secret drove away the two people I trusted the most.

Meher ignores me entirely and rushes to Vishnu first, engulfing him in a fierce hug. No words pass between them, but her tight hug and tears say it all: she’s sharing his pain, his happiness, his everything in this moment.

Meanwhile, Devika’s cold glance in my direction cuts through me like a knife. She moves closer and touches Veer’s cheek gently. He stirs but doesn’t go to her, too drowsy to even acknowledge her gesture.

Then, Meher finally faces me. Her eyes, once filled with warmth and laughter for me, are now cold, distant, and guarded. There’s so much unspoken between us—anger, betrayal, hurt—but she says nothing. Instead, she touches Veer’s cheek briefly before turning to Devika.

“Let’s get on with the ritual.”

Devika nods and steps forward. I glance at Vishnu, who takes Veer from my arms, holding him protectively as we stand side by side. Devika performs the griha pravesh ritual with precision, officially welcoming me as the new bride. As the flickering diya circles around us, blessing us as a newlywed couple, I can’t help but feel like an outsider. Veer, who is now fully awake, claps his hands, his innocent joy making everyone laugh. Once the ritual is complete, Pratap Walia steps forward, gesturing for us to come inside.

As we step over the threshold, Meher and Devika linger behind, their focus shifting to Veer. Vishnu introduces them to our son, his voice filled with pride. I stand quietly, watching as Meher and Devika interact with our son. Their smiles are genuine, but the tension between us remains. I feel like I’m fading into the background, overwhelmed and out of place. These two women were once my confidantes, my sisters in all but blood. Now, it’s as if they can barely look at me.

I’m about to turn away and retreat into myself when Vishnu’s hand finds mine. He holds me firmly in place, his eyes meeting mine. His message is clear:I’m not alone in this.Whatever storms we must weather with the family, friends, and the past—we’ll face them together.

As I stand here, surrounded by people who were once my closest friends, but now feel like strangers because of the choicesI’vemade, I wonder how I’ll survive here for the next month.

As we move further into the house, with Vishnu leading me to our room, I steal a glance at Meher and Devika. Their smiles may not be for me yet, but I hope, someday, they will be. For now, I take comfort in the fact that I have Vishnu and Veer by my side. And that this is our home.My home!