As she led her daughter to the wedding location—set in the veranda of their home—Gayatri felt her heart tighten with emotion. Her daughter, her little girl, was becoming a bride. A woman.
This was the child she had given birth to with trembling hands and a heart full of mixed feelings.
She still remembered the day vividly—the day she became a mother for the second time. The dread, the heaviness, the complicated feeling of not being enough... it had all been there, quietly breathing beside the joy.
She had longed for a daughter for years. She had prayed for a girl. But when her first child was a boy, she had felt... relieved. Like she had done her duty. Given her husband a son. Given the family their heir.
That day, she thought she had secured her place as a "good woman."
So when she found out she was carrying a daughter, the joy was tainted with fear. Because she knew—deep down—that the life of a woman in their world was never kind. Not really.
And yet, here they were.
Now Maya was draped in bridal colours, her hands trembling the same way hers once had. And still, she walked forward, toward her future.
The veranda had been transformed into a beautiful wedding setting. Lights hung like stars above them, flowers framed every post and pillar. The air smelled of marigold and rosewater. But all Gayatri could think about was how hard a girl's life could be, and how fiercely she hoped Maya's would be different.
At the same time, she was deeply happy—happy in a way only a mother who's known fear could be. Her daughter, who had always longed to fly higher and higher, who had dreamed of a life beyond the narrow lanes of their village... was finally leaving.
She, despite all the ache in her chest, was glad. She knew Maya had always wanted more. To live beyond restrictions. To breathe fully, without asking permission. And now, even if it was through marriage, she was finally getting out. Finally, she grabbed hold of her future.
And most importantly, she trusted the man waiting for her daughter at the pavilion
The first time she met Damien, she'd been afraid.
But then she spoke to him.
He was not like the other men here.
Not like her husband. Not like her son.
There was something in Damien's voice, in his eyes when he looked at Maya—something that softened Gayatri's heart. Something that gave her peace.
Her daughter, the girl she once feared would suffer for simply being a girl, was now stepping into the arms of someone good.
And that was enough.
She gently helped Maya sit beside Damien, her hands trembling just a little as she guided her daughter's steps toward a new life. Then, with all the love she'd buried deep inside her heart for years, she took Maya's hand and placed it carefully into Damien's.
"Take care of her," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm giving you my entire world."
And she meant it.
Even though she had never quite been the kind of mother Maya had wished for, she loved her daughter.
As everyone else took their places around the mandap, Maya's father, Rituraj, sat rigidly on her side of the pavilion, his expression unreadable. Damien's family, meanwhile, filled the other side.
While settling, Gayatri couldn't help but glance toward them. The way they looked at Maya—curious, assessing. Even the children stared at her with wide, unblinking eyes.
She hoped... she prayed... that somewhere among those stares, Maya would find a space. That somehow, in this new world, her daughter would find not just a husband, but a home.
The priest sat cross-legged in front of Maya and Damien, the wedding ceremony was about to begin — the moment they would take their vows.
There were five in total, just like the tradition of the village said. Each vow would be spoken by the groom — five promises made from a husband to his wife.
As Maya finally settled beside Damien, he turned to look at her.
That, too, was part of the custom — the groom must never look back while the bride is walking toward him. Not until she is seated. To do so before would bring bad luck. A bad omen for the marriage.
But now, as he turned to see her… She was wearing a deep maroon veil, hiding her expression from everyone, even him.
Because everything about her was already carved into his senses, Damien didn't need to see her to know.
He didn't need a glance.
He had known she was there the moment she stepped near.
And under that veil, Maya smiled.
The priest's voice filled the veranda as he guided Damien through each vow, and Damien repeated them with quiet conviction.
"My heart, my body, and my soul shall belong to no one else but you. From this moment on, I give you the right to be my Ardhangini—my other half, my sacred mirror. In you, I see myself complete."
Then he lit the first lamp, its soft glow casting a warm light over their joined hands, symbolizing the beginning of their shared life.
As Damien finished his last vow, a gentle hush fell over the gathering. Everyone was preparing for the next sacred step—the tying of the nuptial necklace.
This ceremony marked the bride and groom being formally announced as husband and wife; the women of the village erupted into joyful shouts, as they encouraged the couple to move forward. Tradition called for the groom to carry his bride to their wedding bed.
With all eyes watching, Damien lifted Maya gently into his arms, their hearts beating as one.
Her arms instinctively wrapped around his neck. He leaned in close and whispered huskily, "I'm yours, completely." Even though her face was covered, she still blushed.