His wedding day felt like an unwanted wind—unrecognizable and uninvited. It was a weekend the bride's family had chosen, yet he was hardly free enough from work to prepare for his own wedding. The atmosphere was anything but festive, thick with silence and ignorance like everyday. Everyone in the house continued to ignore each other.
An hour before the allotted time by the courthouse, Alvin stood before the mirror, glaring at his reflection. He turned his gaze to the sleek off-white kurta hanging on a wide hanger, being expertly pressed by one of the staff.
He had no desire to wear the heavy kurta his stepmother had chosen. The intricate embroidery felt suffocating, a symbol of expectations he never wanted to fulfill. Folding his arms, he stared at it, consumed by a single question that had plagued him since he learned who his bride would be.
Why did Vivian agree to marry him?
He had seen it in her eyes — the bitterness, still raw and palpable. It was as if the years had done nothing to soften the edges of her resentment for him.
So why now? Why agree to this marriage?
That question weighed heavily on him as he descended the staircase, all dressed up, looking like a model thanks to the stylists his stepmother had appointed. The red velvet scarf draped over his shoulder felt oppressive, making him feel hot.
Mr. and Mrs. Thakur waited for him, alongside Tanya, who wore the new lehenga she had picked out for the occasion. Tanya was not very happy with the arranged marriage, that somehow felt flash, unaware of the fact that this marriage was never a flash marriage.
"We should wait a little longer," Mrs. Thakur suggested, as soon as Alvin touched his father's feet for blessings, immediately redirected Mr. Thakur's attention to herself.
"Why so?" he asked, his voice flat, completely ignoring Alvin, who had long been deprived of his father's blessings since that incident.
"We are from the groom's side and they're never on time," she explained with her plain fake smile.
"What nonsense!" Tanya exclaimed in frustration. She flounced over to the sitting area, adjusting her lehenga before settling onto one of the large sofas.
Alina, Tanya's mother, assisted her husband in maneuvering his wheelchair closer to the sofa. Meanwhile, Alvin remained standing, feeling nervous about marrying his ex, who was now to be his lawfully wedded wife. The weight of the moment pressed down on him, making it hard for him to breathe.
Instead of leaving within minutes, they departed a full hour late for the courthouse. Alina wanted to wait a bit longer, but everyone finally set off when Tanya grew restless.
"You should thank me, dear brother. If it weren't for me, you'd have been two hours late for your own wedding because of that witch 0f a woman," Alina whispered once they were in a separate car from their parents.
"Hush! Stop cursing your mother," Alvin replied, flinching at her words. Most of the staff in the Thakur mansion were Alina's minions. One wrong word was enough to provoke her
"I'm not scared of her."
"Neither am I, but she is our mother."
"Yeah, the kind you call 'Madam,'" Tanya said, turning to her brother. "Tell me, will you let your wife be treated the same way you're treated?"
"She treats me well, Tanya."
"God, I pity that girl."
Alvin stopped listening, letting Tanya's voice fade into the background. Silence enveloped the car, his thoughts spiraling into a ruckus. It felt unreal that his bride was Vivian. But when he caught sight of her in that red saree, everything else vanished.
The simple cotton saree draped around her in delicate folds, adorned with minimal embroidery, framed her with timeless elegance. The green Kundan choker and matching earrings added a splendid touch, enhancing her beauty in a way that was simple yet breathtaking.
Nothing had changed. She was still the same—beautiful and captivating. The woman who had once held his heart. In that instant, all the feelings he thought he had buried long ago surged back, resurfacing, by the very person who had once shattered them.
As he climbed the courthouse steps, he instinctively extended his hand to help her navigate the remaining, knowing all too well the challenges of managing a saree. But after nearly two minutes, her hand never reached for his.
Vivian stood frozen, eyes wide with something akin to shock, as if she had encountered someone unexpected.
Was she surprised to see him?
Was it possible she didn't know who her groom was?