Aanya sat at the end of the dining table, feigning scrolling on her phone as her mother made the rounds, serving chai to the guests in the living room. The tinkling of china cups and forced polite laughter struck her ears like nails on a chalkboard. She didn't have to look up to realize what this meeting was for. Another proposal.
"I don't know why you're pulling that face," her mother whispered, giving her a tight-lipped smile. "At least go and say hello."
Aanya exhaled a breath and placed her phone on the side. She tidied her kurti unconsciously, her heartbeat pounding against the collarbone underneath. This wasn't the direction her life was meant to take. She was twenty-five years old, a Chartered Accountant by degree, and sternly resolved on getting an MBA in the following year. Marriage? Not even on her agenda.
She entered the living room with careful steps, eyes locating the man her parents were smiling at. Arjun Malhotra. Tall, broad-shouldered, wearing a pale blue shirt and dark jeans, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hair was well-combed, his jaw covered in stubble. Handsome, perhaps. But that wasn't the issue.
Their eyes locked. He didn't smile.
"Hi," she said, standing rigidly.
"Hi," he said, standing up and smiling politely.
"Why don't you two get acquainted in the balcony?" her mother twittered. "Get to know each other."
Aanya felt like screaming. But she suppressed the reply, turned on her heel, and strode into the balcony. Arjun followed silently.
When they were outside, she faced him. "Let's save each other the trouble. I'm not interested in marriage."
He blinked, taken aback. "Okay."
"Okay?"
"You're honest. Good." He leaned against the railing, gazing out at the skyline.
She scowled. "So why are you here?"
"My parents insisted. Thought I should meet you at least once."
"And now that you have?"
He regarded her, something inscrutable in his eyes. "Now I can tell them I met someone smart, driven, and totally uninterested. Saves me the drama."
His words surprised her. Not because they were derogatory, but because they weren't.
She raised an eyebrow. "So, we're settled then? This isn't going to happen?"
He nodded slowly. "It doesn't look like it."
There was quiet. Then, he added, "But they'll still attempt it. Especially your people."
"They'll fail."
"We'll see."
She didn't appreciate the tone he used—calm, assured, as if he knew something she didn't.
"You're actually going to let them bully you into doing this?" she asked.
He shrugged. "I'm twenty-seven. IIT graduate. Head of a tech startup. If I keep saying no, they'll think there's something wrong with me. Better to play along until things get sorted out."
"And you think getting married to someone who obviously doesn't want to is going to fix that?"
He looked at her quietly. "I don't think anything fixes everything. But sometimes… things shift."
She crossed her arms. "Not this. I want to pursue an MBA next year. Overseas, if possible."
"Then you should," he stated.
That also surprised her.
"You don't care?"
"I care about a lot of things. But not compelling someone to marry me."
Another silence. One she couldn't quite define.
"I'll say no to them," she said at last.
He smiled half-heartedly. "Me too.
Except, a week later, she was sitting in her bedroom, gazing at a gold-embossed wedding card.
She stormed into the living room where her parents were having tea.
"What is this?!"
Her mother looked up with a sheepish face. "It's just a draft—"
"You set the date?! Without even consulting me?!"
Her father sighed. "Aanya, we discussed this—"
"I said no!"
"They're a good family," her mother said. "He's educated, respectful, no bad habits—"
"I don't care! I don't want this!"
"You won't find a man like him again. Don't spoil it for your ego," her mother snapped.
The betrayal cut deep. "My ego? I have plans! A life!"
But no one was listening.
***
She did everything—called Arjun, texted him, even showed up at his office once. But he was always "in a meeting" or "not available."
She finally caught him at a family gathering thrown to "celebrate the impending union."
"You promised," she spat, pulling him aside.
"I didn't promise anything," he replied calmly. "I said we'd tell them. I did. They didn't care."
"You just gave up?"
He looked at her for a long time. "Do you really want to ruin your relationship with your parents for this?"
Her fists were clenched. "Yes."
He leaned his head to one side, interested. "Then why haven't you run away yet?"
Her breath caught.
She hadn't.
Because some corner of her—some foolish, exhausted corner—was just too exhausted to battle everyone anymore. Perhaps she hoped it would all blow over. Perhaps she didn't think they'd actually do it.
And perhaps… perhaps she'd been mistaken.
***
The wedding was planned for next month.
Aanya sat on her bed the evening before the wedding, gazing at the henna on her hands. The delicate swirls and patterns ran from her fingertips to her elbows. Somewhere in between, buried in the loops, was Arjun's name. Tradition, they said.
She said it was a prison.
She brushed away a silent tear as her cousin entered and said, "You're so lucky. He's perfect."
She wanted to scream again.
Just right for someone else. Not for her.
And tomorrow, she would be his wife.
---
**[End of Chapter 1]**