Author's Note
Hello, my wonderful readers! 💕
First, let me extend my heartfelt thanks to all of you for supporting "Mine Yes!" This romance novel delves deep into family dynamics, love, and the unspoken bonds that connect us. The chapter you just read showcases the warmth and chaos of a family that loves fiercely but never misses a chance to tease one another. From Aarav's quiet affection to Komal's no-nonsense attitude, this family truly brings life to the story.
I hope you've enjoyed this slice of their world. Your support keeps me inspired to write more chapters filled with love, laughter, and heartfelt moments. Let me know what you think—your feedback means the world to me!
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Let's make this week unforgettable! Here's a warm note for the week ahead:
Here's the schedule for the upcoming chapter uploads:
📅 *Mondays*: 07:00 AM UTCÂ
📅 *Thursdays*: 07:00 AM UTCÂ
📅 *Saturdays*: 16:00 PM UTCÂ
Dear Readers,
This week, let's embrace love in all its forms—whether it's in the laughter of family, the quiet support of friends, or the courage to pursue your dreams. Remember, every day is a new chapter waiting to be written, and you hold the pen. Stay kind, stay strong, and always believe in the magic of possibilities. 💫
With all my love and gratitude,
~PENOLA.S
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The family gathered in the temple courtyard as the priest began preparing for the next ritual. The sun cast a golden glow, illuminating the intricate carvings of the temple walls. Ria and Misha sat off to the side, giggling over something on Ria's phone.
Ria nudged Misha, whispering, "Look at them. It's like they're in their own drama. Bhaiya's all cold and brooding, and Anaya bhabhi looks like she's trying to crack his shell."
Misha giggled, her gaze darting toward the couple standing near the priest. "I think they're cute. It's like a TV serial but… real."
Meanwhile, Rudra and Anaya stood side by side, their hands folded as the priest handed them flower garlands for the ritual.
"Hold this properly," Rudra murmured under his breath, his tone low but commanding as he adjusted Anaya's grip on the garland.
"I am holding it properly," Anaya whispered back, her irritation evident.
"No, you're not," he replied curtly, his fingers brushing hers briefly as he corrected her hold.
Her lips tightened, and she leaned slightly closer, her voice barely audible. "Maybe if you stopped micromanaging everything, you'd notice I know what I'm doing."
Rudra's eyes flicked to hers, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "If you knew what you were doing, I wouldn't need to correct you."
Anaya glared at him but held her tongue as the priest motioned for them to place the garland on the deity. She bit back a retort, aware of the family's watchful eyes.
Behind them, Ria nudged Misha again, giggling. "Look at bhabhi. She's trying so hard not to roll her eyes at him."
Misha snorted softly. "If anyone can handle Rudra bhaiya's attitude, it's her."
Their whispered commentary was interrupted by the arrival of Ravi and Aarav, both dressed in vibrant Indian attire. Ravi's bright yellow kurta contrasted with Aarav's deep maroon sherwani, both looking dashing as they made their way to the family.
Ravi plopped down next to Dev, his usual grin in place. "You know, Dev bhaiya, I think I've already burned a hundred calories just wearing this outfit."
Dev glanced at him with an amused smile. "It's a family occasion, Ravi. Try to keep up."
Aarav joined in, his tone teasing. "Don't worry, Ravi. Maybe if you sit long enough, you'll find someone to compliment your 'hard work'."
The two burst into laughter, earning a pointed look from Rakhi. "Boys, behave," she said firmly, though there was a faint smile on her face.
As the priest continued chanting, Rakhi and Dev stepped forward to perform their part of the ritual, offering flowers and prayers. Rudra and Anaya were next, the priest instructing them to light the diya together.
Anaya reached for the matchstick, but Rudra beat her to it, igniting the flame and holding it out to her. "Here. Don't burn yourself," he said, his tone laced with subtle sarcasm.
Anaya took the diya carefully, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Thanks for the vote of confidence," she muttered.
"I'm just being practical," Rudra countered, his voice low. "I can't have you fumbling in front of everyone."
She shot him a glare but kept her composure, holding the diya steady as they completed the ritual together.
Ria, watching from the side, couldn't help but smile. "See? They're perfect. Even their bickering has chemistry," she whispered to Misha.
Misha nodded. "I bet they'll end up being everyone's favorite couple story."
The priest instructed Rudra and Anaya to bow their heads, placing tilak on their foreheads. As the cold touch of the sacred ash marked her skin, Anaya stole a glance at Rudra. His expression was unreadable, his jaw set in that familiar stoic way.
She leaned in slightly, her voice barely audible. "Do you ever let yourself relax? Or is brooding your permanent state of being?"
Rudra tilted his head slightly, his dark eyes locking onto hers. "Someone has to stay focused while you dream about fairy tales."
Her lips twitched into a small, defiant smile. "Maybe if you tried dreaming once in a while, you'd see the world isn't as cold as you think."
For a brief moment, something flickered in Rudra's gaze—something softer, almost vulnerable. But just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by his usual guarded demeanor.
"Dreams don't keep a family together," he replied, his voice firm but not unkind.
"Neither does shutting people out," she countered, her tone softer now.
Before he could respond, the priest announced the completion of the ritual. The family gathered closer, the atmosphere lightening as the formalities ended.
As everyone prepared to leave the temple for the family lunch, Ravi nudged Aarav, a mischievous grin on his face. "So, do we call this a victory for bhabhi? She managed to get bhaiya to talk without glaring too much."
Aarav laughed. "I'd say it's a draw. Rudra bhaiya might be cold, but bhabhi's no less savage."
Their laughter carried through the courtyard, drawing amused glances from the others.
Komal, standing nearby, observed Rudra and Anaya quietly. She noted the way they moved together, their unspoken understanding despite the tension. A faint smile touched her lips. Perhaps there was hope for her stoic grandson after all.
As the family walked toward the waiting cars, Anaya fell into step beside Rudra. "You know," she began, her voice light but sincere, "for someone who claims not to care about appearances, you sure make an effort to look like the perfect heir."
He glanced at her, a rare smile ghosting across his lips. "And for someone who claims not to care about me, you notice an awful lot."
Her cheeks flushed, but she met his gaze steadily. "Maybe I just like proving you wrong."
Rudra chuckled softly, a sound so rare it made her heart skip. "Game on, Mrs. Singhaniya."
And with that, they stepped into the car, their banter continuing as the temple bells chimed softly in the distance.
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Rudra and Anaya sat side by side near the sacred fire. The priest handed them a copper plate with offerings to begin the ritual. Anaya adjusted her saree delicately, her fingers slightly trembling as she felt the weight of everyone's gaze. Rudra, sitting straight and stoic, exuded an aura of calm control. But beneath his exterior, a storm brewed.
"Do I really need to sit so close?" Anaya whispered, her voice low enough to be drowned out by the priest's chants.
Rudra turned his head slightly, his black eyes sharp. "It's a ritual, not a choice," he replied, his tone curt.
"You could at least act like you're happy about it," she murmured, her cheeks tinged with embarrassment.
Rudra leaned in slightly, his lips almost brushing her ear. "I'm here, aren't I? That should be enough."
Anaya shot him a glare, her boldness breaking through her usual shyness. "You're impossible. Maybe I should just move to the library—since, apparently, my room is the library."
At that, Rudra's expression darkened. "You're not moving anywhere," he said firmly. His voice was still a whisper, but the possessiveness in his tone sent a shiver down her spine.
"Why not?" she challenged, lifting her chin.
"Because you're my wife," he said, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that left no room for argument.
Before Anaya could retort, Ria's voice cut through the atmosphere. "Ugh, this is taking forever. Can't we fast-forward the rituals, like in those wedding montages?" she joked, scrolling through her phone.
Misha, seated beside her, gave her a disapproving look. "Ria, it's about respecting our traditions. Can't you put your phone away for one day?"
Ria smirked, not looking up. "Come on, Misha. Even you have to admit this is dragging a bit. Besides, you're always the perfect traditionalist. Let me be the modern rebel."
Meanwhile, Aarav, who was scrolling through memes on his own phone, chimed in. "I'm with Ria on this. It's 2025, not 1925. Traditions are great, but let's keep it snappy."
Dev, overhearing their banter, turned to them with a fatherly smile. "You two can joke all you want, but one day, you'll realize the value of these rituals. Trust me."
Rakhi, seated beside him, nudged his arm playfully. "And you said you didn't care for rituals when we first got married. Remember?" Her voice held a teasing warmth.
Dev chuckled, taking her hand subtly while the others were distracted. "I didn't care then because I was too busy being mesmerized by you."
Rakhi blushed, shaking her head. "You still have that silver tongue, don't you?"
The priest called out instructions for Rudra and Anaya to perform the next step, breaking the tender moment between Dev and Rakhi. Rudra held Anaya's hand firmly as they stood, the copper plate balanced between them.
"Let me do it," Anaya whispered, trying to take charge of the plate.
"No," Rudra replied. "You'll drop it."
Anaya frowned, leaning closer to him. "You think I can't manage a simple plate?"
Rudra smirked, his voice low enough for only her to hear. "I don't trust anyone else when it comes to you—not even you."
The heat in his words made her falter for a moment, her grip on the plate tightening involuntarily. "You're impossible," she muttered again, but her heart betrayed her with its erratic beats.
As the couple performed the rituals, Ria nudged Misha and whispered, "Look at them. It's like a slow-burn romance novel come to life."
Misha rolled her eyes but smiled. "They do look good together, don't they?"
Just then, Ravi entered the temple, dressed in a crisp yellow kurta. His presence commanded attention despite his silence. Aarav followed, equally dashing in his traditional attire. They took their places beside Dev, nodding in greeting.
"You're late," Dev said to Ravi, his tone light but teasing.
"Not everyone can be as punctual as you, Dad," Aarav quipped, earning a chuckle from the elder Singhaniya.
Meanwhile, the priest's voice grew louder as the mantras reached their peak. Rudra and Anaya knelt together, their hands clasped in prayer. As Anaya closed her eyes, she felt a sudden warmth as Rudra's hand covered hers.
Her eyes fluttered open, meeting his. "What are you doing?" she whispered.
"Protecting what's mine," he replied softly, his gaze unwavering.
For once, Anaya didn't argue. As the flames danced in the reflection of their eyes, she felt a strange, unspoken understanding pass between them.
The family continued the rituals, their dynamics a blend of tradition and modernity, teasing and tenderness, silence and laughter. Yet, amidst the noise, it was Rudra and Anaya's quiet, fiery whispers that stole the moment, making the ritual uniquely theirs.
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As the priest concluded the main mantras and moved toward the final blessings, the Singhaniya family gathered closer around the sacred fire. The traditional bells rang, echoing in the grand temple, creating a mesmerizing symphony of devotion and unity.
Rudra and Anaya were instructed to stand and offer flowers to the deity. Rudra, ever composed, guided Anaya with subtle gestures, his possessive demeanor still apparent.
"Place the flowers here," he whispered, nodding toward the altar.
"I know how to do it," Anaya replied softly, her eyes narrowing slightly.
"Then do it," Rudra said, his lips quirking into the barest hint of a smirk.
Anaya shot him a look that said she was not impressed, yet she couldn't help feeling a rush of heat at his teasing. She stepped forward, their hands brushing as they both reached out to place the flowers.
Ria leaned toward Misha, speaking just loudly enough for Ravi and Aarav to overhear. "Is it just me, or are they giving serious main-character-in-a-drama vibes right now?"
Misha sighed, half-amused. "You're imagining things. Focus on the ritual, Ria."
"I am focused," Ria said, scrolling through her phone again. "On how cute they look together."
Aarav chuckled, leaning back against the wall casually. "She's not wrong. Rudra bhai finally looks like he's alive and not just a business machine."
Ravi, silent as always, gave a faint smile but didn't comment. He adjusted his kurta sleeves and watched the scene unfold with quiet interest.
As Rudra and Anaya stepped back to their designated spot, the priest began explaining the symbolic meaning behind the ritual. Rakhi and Dev were seated nearby, their hands joined in prayer.
"I still remember our first puja together," Rakhi whispered, her tone soft and fond.
Dev glanced at her, his lips curving into a nostalgic smile. "You were so nervous, you nearly dropped the diya."
"And you caught it," Rakhi said, nudging him lightly. "I guess that's been the story of our life—you catching me when I stumble."
"Always," Dev replied warmly, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.
Their exchange didn't go unnoticed. Aarav smirked and whispered to Ria, "Mom and Dad are in their own Bollywood moment."
"Let them be," Ria replied, grinning. "It's cute. They deserve it."
The priest then asked all married couples to take a symbolic walk around the fire, holding hands. Rudra held out his hand to Anaya, his gaze intense.
"Come," he said simply.
Anaya hesitated, her pulse quickening. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Like what?" Rudra asked, his tone as calm as ever.
"Like I might run away," she replied, lifting her chin.
He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a possessive murmur. "You won't. Because I won't let you."
Anaya felt her cheeks flush as she placed her hand in his. Together, they circled the fire, their steps in perfect sync despite the tension humming between them.
Misha nudged Ria. "Look at them. You can practically feel the sparks flying."
Ria grinned. "They're like a slow-burn romance novel you can't put down."
As the ritual came to an end, the family began to disperse, chatting amongst themselves. Anaya turned to Rudra, her voice soft but firm.
"I wasn't joking about the library, you know. I need my space sometimes."
Rudra's jaw tightened, but his reply was surprisingly measured. "Your space is with me. Always."
"Always is a big word," Anaya said, crossing her arms.
"It's the only word that matters," Rudra countered, his eyes locking onto hers.
Before she could respond, Ria approached, her mischievous grin firmly in place. "Alright, lovebirds, save some of that intensity for later. It's time for family photos."
Misha added, "And don't forget, you two have to light the evening diya in the main hall. It's another tradition."
Rudra sighed, his moment with Anaya interrupted. "Fine," he said, his tone resigned but not unkind.
Anaya bit back a smile. "Looks like you don't have a choice."
"Neither do you," Rudra shot back, his voice low but tinged with something almost playful.
As the family gathered for photos and more rituals, the atmosphere was a blend of lighthearted banter, romantic undercurrents, and the timeless traditions that bound the Singhaniya family together.
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The family gathered for some post-ritual conversation and light snacks in the large hall adjoining the temple. The atmosphere was buzzing with warmth, laughter, and chatter, contrasting with the solemnity of the rituals earlier.
Ria plopped down on the couch beside Ravi, holding her phone in one hand and a half-eaten ladoo in the other. "So, Mr. Silent, what's going on in that overworked brain of yours?"
Ravi adjusted his kurta, leaning back slightly. "Work, Ria. Unlike you, I don't have the luxury of scrolling through Instagram reels all day."
"Excuse me!" Ria shot back, pretending to be offended. "I multitask. Besides, someone's got to keep the vibe alive in this house. You're like a walking spreadsheet."
Misha joined them, laughing. "She's not wrong, Ravi. You need to lighten up sometimes. Maybe take a break, go on a date or something."
"I don't need to lighten up," Ravi replied with a faint smile. "And I definitely don't need dating advice from you two."
Meanwhile, Aarav was sitting on the edge of the sofa, his elbow resting on his knee, completely lost in thought. He stared blankly ahead, his usually lively demeanor subdued.
Ria noticed first, nudging Ravi. "Look at Aarav. He's totally spaced out. What's the bet he's thinking about her?"
Ravi raised an eyebrow, glancing at Aarav. "Who's 'her'?"
Misha smirked. "Oh, you know. His first love. Or should we say, the girl who doesn't even know she's his first love."
Ria giggled, leaning closer to Aarav. "Hey, lover boy, you planning your wedding or just daydreaming about her smile?"
Aarav blinked, startled out of his thoughts. "What are you even talking about?"
"You know exactly what we're talking about," Misha chimed in, her tone teasing. "That girl you keep staring at whenever we're at the club or the library or wherever it is you 'accidentally' bump into her."
"I don't stare," Aarav protested, though his ears turned pink.
"Uh-huh," Ria said, grinning mischievously. "And I don't scroll Instagram for hours. Admit it, Aarav, you're smitten."
Before Aarav could retort, Komal's voice cut through the teasing. "Enough with your nonsense, Ria. If anyone should be getting ready for marriage, it's Misha."
Misha, who had been sipping on a glass of water, nearly choked. "What? Why me?"
Komal gave her a knowing look. "You're the next in line, child. The elders have already started discussing matches for you. Next month, you'll meet a few prospects."
Ria burst into laughter. "Misha, getting married? Oh, this is gold!"
Misha glared at her. "Laugh all you want, but don't forget, you're next after me!"
"I'll cross that bridge when I get to it," Ria replied smugly. "For now, I'm enjoying my freedom."
Ravi shook his head, amused at the chaos unfolding. "You're all impossible," he said, standing to leave.
Ria called after him. "Where are you going, Mr. Silent?"
"To get some peace," Ravi replied, though a small smile tugged at his lips as he walked away.
Aarav, still flustered, muttered, "You guys are unbelievable."
"And you, little brother, are so predictable," Misha teased, patting Aarav on the shoulder.
Ria added with a wink, "Don't worry. We'll help you win her over when you're ready to stop denying it."
As their laughter filled the room, the family's bond felt unshakable—a mix of teasing, love, and traditions that kept them grounded in the ever-changing world.