Engagement 💍

The Next Day ~

I woke up and drew the curtains. The cold breeze brushed against my face, soft and quiet. I stood there for a moment, not moving much. My body still felt heavy from yesterday's ceremony. The Haldi ceremony had drained me completely.

Today is my engagement and then, the wedding.

I’m getting tied to someone I barely know.

A stranger.

The thought made my chest tighten. My hands were cold. My heart was racing like a bullet train, and I didn’t know how to slow it down.

I wasn’t sure if it was fear, nerves… or something else.

It’s 5 a.m. ~

I sat near the window, the sky outside still dark, a thin line of dawn breaking at the edges. My diary lay open on my lap, pages already filled with the thoughts I couldn’t say out loud.

I poured everything into my diary - the fear, the confusion, the strange excitement sitting somewhere in my chest.

The room was so still I could hear my own heartbeat.

Then, a knock.

I froze, pen still in my hand.

Someone was at my door.

Slowly, I stood, my bare feet touched the cold floor, and walked towards the door.

“Di, are you awake?”

It was Saanvi.

I opened the door, and she walked in with a dress in her hands, white with soft pink details. It looked like something an angel would wear.

“Di, it’s your dress. Look!” she said, holding it up with a wide smile.

I took it gently from her, nodding and smiling to let her know I liked it. Then I laid it carefully on the bed.

Taking her hand in mine, we sat down together. I turned to her and started signing.

Ishita, “I’m leaving this house now... and we won’t see each other as often anymore.”

My hands moved slowly, a little shaky. Tears welled up in my eyes.

Saanvi looked at me, her smile fading just a little, replaced by something softer, sad, but understanding.

Saanvi pulled me into a tight hug.

“Di, don’t think like that. Look, I’m always with you. I’m here for you,” she whispered softly.

I shivered as I signed back,

“I’m really nervous… and you know about my past.”

Saanvi squeezed my hand gently, her voice steady and sure.

“Di, everything will be fine.”

She held my hands in hers, comforting me.

“Just one thing… don’t tell anyone about this. Not even to your husband. It could cause problems.”

I nodded slowly, the weight of her words sinking in.

Saanvi gently cupped my cheek with her hand.

“Di, I’m always with you. Don’t be scared. Remember, your sister will always be there for you, even if no one else is.”

Without thinking, I wrapped my arms around her, and we both broke down into tears.

After a while, Saanvi pulled back, wiping her own tears.

“Di, I convinced Mom to hire a makeup artist.”

My eyes widened in sudden fear.

“You shouldn’t have asked for that,” I signed worried.

Saanvi grinned, full of confidence.

“Di, don’t worry. No one can say no to my cuteness. Mom agreed!”

I stared at her, surprised, a little amused too.

Saanvi laughed, “Ahh… I even pushed Dad a little, and then it worked! Okay, Di, now hurry up to the bathroom. The makeup artist will be here any minute. Come on, go!”

She gently turned me toward the bathroom.

I stepped into the bathroom, the cold tiles biting at my feet. I cupped some water and splashed it on my face, hoping it would calm the nervous flutter inside me.

I sank down onto the floor, the cold seeping into my skin, and let the tears fall quietly. The room was silent except for my shaky breaths and the soft drip of water.

Two hours slipped by, filled with a mix of memories, nervousness and fear.

Two hours later…

(Author’s note: If any boy is reading this and shocked that it took Ishita two hours, listen up boy - it's girl's thing it's our minimum bathing time dude 😎.)

The makeup artist was already waiting outside. I lowered my head in a subtle bow, greeting her in my own quiet way.

After four long hours, Ishita was finally ready.

She wore a soft white gown touched with pale pink, the fabric light and flowing around her like a gentle breeze. The veil a thin, pinkish-white net covered her face softly, making her look almost like she belonged to another world.

Her eyes peeked through the veil, calm but shining with a quiet kind of strength. She couldn’t speak, yet her feelings were clear in the quiet steadiness of her gaze.

She looked like a fairy from a story, fragile but real. The little shimmer on her cheeks and the soft color on her lips made her look gentle like someone who’s been through a lot, but is still holding on.

Saanvi smiled wide, eyes sparkling.

“Wow, Di, you look so beautiful. Words aren’t enough to describe you, my lady!”

Then teasingly, she added,

“Aapki aadayein to logo ko ghayal kar dengi, aur jiju… woh to mar hi jayenge aapko dekh kar!”

(“With your charm, people will fall for you, and my brother-in-law… he’ll surely be dead after looking at you!”)

Ishita glanced at her and signed shyly,

“Please don’t talk like that he is going to be your brother-in-law.”

Saanvi laughed softly.

“Oh ho! Shaadi se pehle hi aap to jiju ke taraf ho gayi, Didi. So bad! Wahan jaake mujhe mat bhoolna, apni behna ka pyaar mat bhoolna.”

(“Oh ho! Even before the wedding, you’re already on my brother-in-law’s side, Didi. So bad! When you go there, don’t forget me, don’t forget your sister’s love.”)

Ishita cupped Saanvi’s cheeks with her henna-stained hands and shook her head gently, a silent promise that she would never forget her.

They were joking and talking when Sia came inside.

“Come on, you two, hurry up! Vidya Aunty is getting angry.”

Laughing, they both went downstairs.

Soon after, the Rajput family set off in their cars, driving towards Raj Mahal.

(The grand venue where the engagement and wedding were to be held.)

The Mahal was beautifully decorated, every detail carefully arranged as all the expenses were covered by the Malhotra's.

After a while, the Malhotra family arrived, and both families exchanged warm greetings.

But Vikrant haven’t shown up yet.

Saraswati Ji picked up her phone and called him.

“Beta, kaha ho? Aaj tumhari engagement hai aur tumhe aaj bhi kam ki suji hai. Don’t get late!! Mujhe koi tamasha nahi chahiye, jaldi aao yahan.”

(“Son, where are you? It’s your engagement today, and you’re still caught up with work. Don’t be late! I don’t want any drama, so get here quickly.”)

Vikrant’s voice came through the phone, calm but firm.

“On my way, Ma.”

Behind that calm, two men were already meeting their fate.

Earlier that morning, before the engagement day even began, he had executed two men, the ones who leaked those confidential pictures of him and his men.

In Vikrant’s world, loyalty was everything, and betrayal was met with swift, brutal consequences.

Vikrant’s car pulled up smoothly in front of the grand Mahal, its polished black surface gleaming. The door swung open as a tall, imposing bodyguard stepped out first, scanning the area with sharp, watchful eyes.

Then, with deliberate confidence, Vikrant emerged. Clad in a tailored black coat that hugged his broad shoulders perfectly, every stitch speaking of power and precision.

Underneath, a crisp white shirt peeked out, buttoned neatly, with a slim black tie adding to the sharpness of his look.

His shoes clicked against the marble steps, each step measured, commanding attention. His face was expressionless, cold as ice, with eyes that seemed to see everything and reveal nothing.

He didn’t just walk into the Mahal, he owned it.

After a while, Vikrant was busy with the photoshoot, something he didn’t want to do, but his mother had insisted.

Saraswati Ji looked around and asked Vidya, “Where’s Ishita? Call her.”

Vidya replied, “Ji, I’ll call her right away.”

She then called Saanvi and asked her to bring Ishita near the stage.

After a while, Ishita appeared, her face softly hidden beneath the delicate pinkish-white veil. Saanvi held her hand gently, steadying her trembling steps.

Vidya approached with a wide, fake smile plastered across her face. Taking Ishita’s hand in hers, she cooed in a saccharine tone,

“Ishita bacha, come. Arey wah, meri bachi,” as she roughly pulled back the veil.

Ishita slowly lifted her eyes to meet Vidya’s, her gaze sharp and cautious, fully aware of the false sweetness behind those words.

Her hands began to tremble uncontrollably.

Saanvi immediately noticed, squeezing Ishita’s hand tightly.

“Ma, don’t worry. Let me do this,” she whispered.

Without saying anything Vidya stepped aside, her smile faltering ever so slightly.

Saanvi guided Ishita carefully, supporting her fragile steps as they slowly ascended the stage every movement heavy with unspoken pain and silent strength.

The crowd’s eyes were on them, but in that moment, it was only Saanvi’s steady grip and Ishita’s quiet resolve that mattered.

Saraswati Ji and Vikrant watched everything silently, their expressions calm but attentive. Vikrant’s eyes were fixed on Ishita.

Her long, glossy black hair framed her face perfectly. Her rosy cheeks caught the light just right, and her eyes, deep, mysterious held an undeniable pull.

Ishita took slow, careful steps up the stage. As she reached the top, Saanvi leaned close, whispering softly into her ear,

“Now you have to handle this alone, darling. Just stay calm.”

Ishita’s gaze flickered toward Vikrant, who was already watching her intently. A flush of shyness swept over her, and she quickly looked down, her heart pounding.

Just then, the cameraman’s voice cut through the quiet. “Ma’am, please move a little closer.”

Ishita shifted slightly, trying to steady herself.

“Please, hold each other’s hands,” the cameraman added.

Ishita was so nervous she couldn’t even lift her hand. Seeing this, Vikrant calmly raised his own hand, silently asking for hers. With trembling fingers, Ishita placed her hand in his.

The cameraman snapped away, urging them closer and look into each other's eyes 👀, capturing every forced smile and awkward pose.

Saraswati Ji chimed in with suggestions for romantic poses that were nearly impossible for both of them making the whole scene even more tense.

Meanwhile, Saanvi who was looking with loving eyes at the cute couple, quietly encouraging Ishita.

Nearby, Vihaan stood beside her, watching everything unfold. His gaze kept darting toward Saanvi, who was making him increasingly uncomfortable. She was snapping pictures but kept accidentally stepping on his shoes.

Growing frustrated, Vihaan finally moved away. But as he stepped forward, Saanvi’s dupatta got caught on his watch something he didn’t notice as he walked off.

“Ah, what a clumsy girl! Finally, some relief,” Vihaan muttered under his breath as he stepped away.

Just then, Saanvi felt her dupatta stretch tight. She turned quickly and saw it was caught on his watch.

“Ooo! Hello, Mr.!” she called out, hurrying after him.

Vihaan kept moving forward, pretending not to hear.

Saanvi wasn’t having it. “Sunai nahi deta kya? Behre ho kya?” she snapped as she approached him.

(“Can’t you hear me? Are you deaf or what?”)

“Mera dupatta fass gaya hai,” she added with a mock sigh, clearly unimpressed.

(“My dupatta got stuck”)

Vihaan reached out to pull the dupatta free, but Saanvi stopped him with a teasing smile.

“Oh Mr., planning to tear my dupatta? Let me handle this,” she said, stepping closer and trying to untangle it herself.

Suddenly, a man carrying a basket of flowers was accidentally bumped by someone nearby. Vihaan, seeing the basket tipping toward Saanvi, instinctively pulled her into his arms. Her hair cascaded down, and with the flowers raining softly around them, the moment felt unexpectedly romantic.

But then, the basket fell right on Vihaan’s head. He steadied her gently, and Saanvi quickly lifted the basket off, setting it aside before carefully brushing the flowers from her hair.

Vihaan straightened his coat and looked at her with an intense gaze, as if she were an angel. But just as suddenly, a dark memory flickered across his mind of the girl who had broken him.

Then he looked at that careless man and while scolding the careless man, said, “Chalna nahi aata kya?”

(“Don’t you know how to walk?”)

The man stammered, “Sorry, sir.”

Vihaan glanced at his watch, then pulled the dupatta free with a sharp tug, resulting in it tearing and getting ruined. Without saying another word, he turned and walked away.

Saanvi stood there, watching him go, silently thinking how rude he was. She took a glance of her torn dupatta and murmured to herself ,“aakru kahin ka!”

(What a rude guy!)

After the photoshoot, the engagement ceremony finally began.

Saanvi approached Ishita with a plate covered in red cloth. At the same time, Saraswati Ji handed a similar plate to Vihaan, asking him to go up on stage.

Vihaan initially refused politely but then agreed.

Saraswati Ji noticed the earlier incident between Vihaan and Saanvi. A small smile appeared on her lips as she thought, Maybe this will help them develop some chemistry...

{Seems like she moved from there when he tore her dupatta 👀.}

Vihaan’s mother and Varun also noticed the scene.

Both Saanvi and Vihaan carefully lifted the red cloth from their plates. Saanvi handed the ring to Ishita, while Vihaan gave the ring to Vikrant.

With steady hands, they placed the rings onto each other’s fingers.

And just like that, the engagement ceremony came to a close.

Your Author – Naina.writz ✍️📚

Thank you so much for reading this part! 💖✨

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