Chapter 2: A New Reality
The wedding preparations began almost immediately after the agreement. For Priya Mishra, it felt as though she were being swept into a storm she had no control over. The Mishra household, usually modest and quiet, now buzzed with activity. Distant relatives, many of whom she had not seen in years, poured in, their chatter filling the rooms with a mix of excitement and gossip.
Priya sat by the window of her small bedroom, her sketchpad lying untouched on her lap. Drawing had always been her escape, but today, her mind refused to cooperate. The weight of her impending marriage bore down on her, a constant reminder of the sacrifices her family expected her to make. She glanced outside, where the garden was being transformed into a vibrant venue for the pre-wedding ceremonies. Strings of marigolds swayed in the breeze, their bright hues mocking her somber mood.
Her younger sister, Meera, burst into the room, her energy a sharp contrast to Priya's melancholy. "Didi, you have to see the lehenga they've brought for you! It's stunning!" Meera's eyes sparkled with excitement, but Priya could only muster a faint smile.
"I'll look at it later," Priya replied, her voice devoid of enthusiasm.
Meera frowned, her youthful optimism faltering. "Didi, I know this isn't what you wanted, but maybe... maybe it won't be so bad? Aaditya seems like a good man."
Priya let out a bitter laugh. "A good man? Meera, he agreed to this arrangement as easily as I did. Neither of us had a choice."
Meera hesitated, then placed a comforting hand on Priya's shoulder. "You're stronger than you think. And who knows? Maybe this is fate's way of giving you something unexpected."
Priya didn't respond. Instead, she turned her gaze back to the window, her thoughts swirling with doubt and apprehension.
Meanwhile, at the Rajan Mansion, Aaditya was dealing with his own set of challenges. Unlike Priya, who had the support of her family, Aaditya faced the cold indifference of his father. Vikram Rajan was a man who valued results above all else, and in his eyes, Aaditya's compliance was merely another step toward securing the family's empire.
In his study, Aaditya sat across from his best friend, Kabir Malhotra, who had known him since their school days. Kabir leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips. "So, you're really going through with this? Marrying someone you barely know?"
Aaditya ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his posture. "Do I have a choice? You know how my father operates. This isn't just about me; it's about the company, the reputation, the... empire."
Kabir studied him for a moment, his smirk fading. "And what about Priya? Have you thought about what this means for her?"
Aaditya sighed, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. "She's caught in this mess just like I am. But I'll do my best to make it... bearable."
Kabir raised an eyebrow. "Bearable? That's a low bar, even for you."
Aaditya shot him a withering look. "I didn't ask for your commentary."
Kabir chuckled, but his tone turned serious. "Just remember, Aaditya, a marriage—forced or not—isn't just a business deal. She's a person, not a contract."
Aaditya didn't respond. Instead, he stared at the glass of whiskey in his hand, his mind a jumble of conflicting emotions.
The wedding day arrived with all the pomp and grandeur one would expect from two influential families. The Rajan Mansion was transformed into a palace of lights, with guests from across the country arriving in their finest attire. Priya, dressed in a deep red lehenga adorned with intricate gold embroidery, looked every bit the reluctant bride. Her eyes, lined with kohl, betrayed the storm within her heart.
As she walked down the aisle, her gaze met Aaditya's. He stood tall and composed, his black sherwani a perfect complement to his sharp features. For a brief moment, Priya thought she saw a flicker of something—uncertainty, perhaps?—in his eyes. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared.
The ceremony proceeded with precision, each ritual a reminder of the weight of tradition and duty. As Aaditya tied the mangalsutra around Priya's neck and applied the sindoor to her forehead, a sense of finality settled over them both. They were no longer strangers; they were bound, for better or worse.
Later that evening, in the privacy of their shared room, the tension between them was palpable. Priya stood by the window, her back to Aaditya, while he loosened the collar of his sherwani. The silence stretched, heavy and uncomfortable.
"You can take the bed," Aaditya said finally, his voice breaking the quiet.
Priya turned to face him, her expression unreadable. "And where will you sleep?"
"The couch is fine," he replied, his tone matter-of-fact.
Priya hesitated, then nodded. "Thank you."
Aaditya watched her for a moment, then sighed. "Look, Priya, I know this isn't easy for either of us. But if we're going to make this work, we need to set some ground rules."
She raised an eyebrow. "Rules?"
"Yes. Like... respecting each other's space. And being honest about what we want."
Priya crossed her arms. "And what do you want, Aaditya?"
He hesitated, then met her gaze. "I want us to survive this... arrangement. That's all."
Priya studied him for a moment, then nodded. "Fine. But don't expect anything more from me."
Aaditya gave a small, humorless laugh. "Trust me, I won't."