the Verma mansion settled into a soft hum of evening warmth. The whole mehra and verma  family gathered in the main lounge—grand chandeliers glowing softly, tea cups resting on the tables, and the air carrying a quiet sense of relief after so much turmoil.

In front of them sat the priest. He pretended to flip through his astrology book with exaggerated seriousness, though ishaan knew he was only putting on a show. he had already told him exactly what to say — and the poor man was simply following the script.

The priest glanced at Ishaan nervously. Ishaan reclined comfortably in his chair, elbow resting casually on the armrest, a slow, knowing smirk pulling at his lips.

The priest gulped. Loudly.

Finally, clearing his throat dramatically, he turned toward the family and announced,
"The most auspicious date for the wedding... is exactly one week from today."

The entire family erupted into cheers—congratulations, claps, teasing smiles filling the room. Aanya's eyes widened in surprise, her cheeks flushing softly as she looked at Ishaan, who simply winked at her like the shameless man he was.

The priest stood immediately. "I shall leave now."

"I'll walk you out, Pandit ji," Ishaan said smoothly.

The priest stiffened, but nodded. Together they walked outside into the cool night air. As soon as the gates closed, the priest turned, voice trembling with restrained frustration.

"Son... this is not right. The most auspicious date was one month from now. But you threatened me to lie and announce a date after just a week. Why would you make me say such a thing?"

Ishaan exhaled slowly, placing his hands in his pockets.

"Pandit ji, you see... I don't believe in these rituals and timings. But my mother wanted the wedding date to be set according to your calculations." He stepped closer, his voice lowering and turning sharper. "And according to your calculations, that date is in a month. Do you know what a month feels like to someone who has already waited far too long?"

The priest swallowed.

"I can't wait anymore," Ishaan continued, a soft ache hidden under his firmness. "I've waited enough. Now I want to marry her... as soon as possible. You wouldn't understand that feeling. So just do as I say."

The poor priest could only gulp again and nod silently before scurrying away.

Ishaan turned around, ready to go back inside—only to freeze.

Nisha stood there, arms crossed, expression stern. "You even bribed the priest," she said dryly.

Ishaan's jaw tightened, caught like a child stealing sweets. "Dii... he was giving such a long date. How on earth was I supposed to wait that long?"

He sounded exactly like a child lodging a complaint. Nisha stared for two seconds—then burst out laughing, grabbing his ear playfully. "Impatient boy," she teased. "You really can't wait, can you?"

"Ow—di!" he protested. "You should understand! What were you like when your wedding was fixed? Yours happened in one week! And still you were caught sneaking out of Verma mansion twice because you couldn't stay away from Aransh!"

Nisha paused... and then smiled sheepishly, cheeks warming. "Fine, fine," she grinned. "Point taken."

They both laughed—an unspoken understanding passing between siblings who shared the same foolish, hopeless softness in love. She hugged him tightly and whispered congratulations in his ear.
___

After the thounders joy and conratulate now family settle again . Aanya and Ishaan sat together, quiet but glowing softly with a peace neither had felt in a long time. Ishaan held her hand under the table, hidden from everyone's eyes, his thumb brushing gently over her knuckles. Aanya tried to act normal, but every brush of his thumb sent warmth spreading through her chest.

The family discussed plans, ideas, dates, venues—voices overlapping, excitement buzzing like electricity in the air.

After a long round of debates, laughter, disagreements, and suggestions... they reached a decision.

"A destination wedding," ishaan finally declared.

The room filled again with enthusiastic agreement. Aanya glanced sideways at Ishaan—and he squeezed her hand under the table, silently promising her a week filled with love, care, and finally... the beginning of their forever.

The day had started in chaos. But it ended with unity, warmth, and a future sealed.

And in the middle of all of it—Aanya and Ishaan sat close, quietly grateful that after storms, tears, and heartbreak... they were finally walking toward their happiness together.

___

The room slowly settled into a warm hush as the last words faded into quiet smiles. Soft evening light filtered through the tall windows of the Verma mansion, casting a golden glow over faces still flushed with laughter and emotion. Aanya sat beside Ishaan, her fingers laced loosely in his, unaware that his thumb was tracing small, nervous circles against her skin.

Mrs. Mehra exchanged a look with Mrs. Verma—one of those silent conversations only mothers understood—before gently clearing her throat.

"So," she said, her voice calm but carrying a quiet excitement, "now that the when has been decided... it is time to decide the where."

Aanya lifted her gaze, curiosity flickering in her eyes. "Where?" she repeated softly.

Ishaan inhaled, slow and steady, then rose from his seat. The movement drew everyone's attention. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a slim envelope—ivory, elegant, sealed with a faint golden crest. For a moment, he simply looked at it, as if holding more than paper in his hands.

"This," he said, his voice low but clear, "is not just a location. It's a promise."

He walked toward Aanya and placed the envelope gently in her hands. She looked up at him, startled, her lashes fluttering once before she broke the seal. Inside was a single photograph.

A palace floating on water. Marble glowing under the sun. Still lakes reflecting endless sky.

Her breath caught.

"Udaipur," she whispered, almost to herself.

A soft murmur rippled through the room.

"The City of Lakes," Ishaan continued, his eyes never leaving her face. "A place where everything slows down. Where history remembers love, not war. Where royalty isn't about power... but about grace."

Aanya's fingers trembled slightly around the photograph. "Why Udaipur?" she asked, though something in her voice already knew the answer.

He crouched in front of her, lowering himself until they were eye to eye, uncaring of who watched. "Because two years ago, I lost you when I forgot how to love you right. And this time..." His voice softened. "This time, I want to marry you in a place that reflects who you are now—not the woman who endured pain, but the woman who rose from it."

Silence filled the room—thick, emotional, reverent.

Mrs. Verma smiled through misted eyes. Mr. Verma nodded, pride quiet but firm. Nisha pressed her lips together, blinking rapidly, while Aransh looked away for a moment, his jaw tight.

Aanya swallowed, her eyes shining. "Udaipur feels... peaceful," she said. "Like healing."

Ishaan smiled then—soft, undone. "Exactly."

Mrs. Mehra stepped forward. "A destination wedding in Udaipur," she announced, her voice warm. "Royal, traditional, and filled with love. Just the way this union deserves."

The room erupted—not into noise, but into joy. Smiles. Gentle claps. A few happy tears.

Aanya leaned forward and rested her forehead against Ishaan's. "So," she whispered, a small smile breaking through her emotion, "you're really planning to marry me like a queen?"

He chuckled softly, brushing his thumb beneath her eye. "No, Rose. I'm planning to marry you as my equal."

And as the name lingered between them—soft, familiar, sacred—Udaipur was no longer just a destination. It was a beginning.

____

Next day the convoy of cars rolled out of the Verma mansion just as dawn began to soften the sky. Suitcases were loaded, laughter echoed, and excitement buzzed through the air like a quiet celebration waiting to explode. Udaipur awaited them—palaces, lakes, vows, and a future sealed in sacred promises.

Inside the first car sat Ishaan and Aanya.

For the first time in two years, they were traveling together—not as strangers bound by history, but as two souls walking toward a chosen forever.

The moment the car doors shut, silence wrapped around them. A soft, heavy silence. Ishaan glanced at her from the corner of his eye. She was looking out of the window, sunlight brushing against her face, making her look unreal—like something he had imagined for too long.

Slowly, carefully, his fingers brushed against hers on the seat between them.

Aanya stiffened for half a second—then relaxed. She didn't pull away. That was all the permission he needed.

He intertwined his fingers with hers, his thumb rubbing gentle circles over her skin, like he was reassuring himself that she was real. That she wasn't about to disappear again.

"I still can't believe you're here," he whispered. "Sometimes I feel like if I blink... you'll be gone."

She turned toward him, her eyes softening.
"I'm not going anywhere," she said quietly. "Not this time."

His breath hitched. He lifted her hand slowly and pressed a kiss to her knuckles—soft, reverent, like a promise. Aanya's lashes fluttered as she leaned closer, her forehead resting against his shoulder. His arm instinctively wrapped around her, pulling her in like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Just as he bent his head to press a kiss into her hair—

"Bhai!"

Ishaan flinched.

Karan's voice came from the front seat. "Can you please move a little? Your seat is blocking my leg."

Ishaan shut his eyes.

Aanya hid her smile in his shoulder.

He adjusted the seat silently, jaw clenched.

Five seconds later, he leaned back toward her, his lips brushing near her ear. "I swear, once we reach Udaipur, I'm locking you in our room," he murmured.

She laughed softly. Before she could reply—

"AANYA!"

Bella's voice blasted from the front seat  as she leaned out from the seat  to look behind. "Did you pack the red lehenga or the maroon one?"

Aanya groaned. "The maroon one!"

"No, the red suits you better!"

"BELLA—"

Ishaan banged his head lightly against the seat. "This is sabotage," he muttered.
__

They stopped halfway for breakfast. Families spilled out of cars, voices overlapping, laughter echoing across the open roadside café.

Ishaan spotted an opportunity.

He gently pulled Aanya aside toward a quieter corner, where bougainvillea vines climbed over a small stone wall. For a brief moment, the world faded—no families, no chaos. Just them.

He stepped closer. "So," he said softly, "we're really doing this."

She nodded. "We are."

His hands slid to her waist—slow, hesitant, like he was still afraid of crossing a line that didn't exist anymore. When she didn't stop him, he leaned down, resting his forehead against hers.

"I waited for you," he whispered. "Every day."

Her eyes filled. "I know."

His lips brushed hers—soft, tentative, almost reverent. A kiss filled with two years of longing, pain, hope, and forgiveness.

Just as it deepened—

"AHEM."

They jumped apart like guilty teenagers.

Mrs. Mehra stood there, arms folded, trying very hard not to smile.

"Breakfast is getting cold," she said calmly.

Aanya's face burned.

Ishaan sighed. Loudly.

"Everyone is determined to keep us emotionally frustrated," he muttered.

Mrs. Mehra chuckled. "Beta, just wait till the wedding. Then no one will disturb you."

Ishaan raised an eyebrow. "Promise?"

She laughed and walked away.

__

As the cars resumed their journey, Ishaan reached for Aanya's hand again—this time holding it firmly, unapologetically.

"Even if someone interrupts us a hundred times," he said, squeezing her fingers, "I'll still steal every moment I can."

She leaned into him, smiling.

And as the convoy drove toward Udaipur, lakes and palaces waiting in the distance, one thing was certain—

They might be surrounded by family, noise, and endless interruptions...
But nothing could interrupt the quiet certainty growing between their hearts.

They were going home. Together.

__

After long hours of winding roads and fading daylight, the convoy finally entered The Aravali Lake Palace, Udaipur—a breathtaking heritage resort resting beside shimmering waters, wrapped in marble, domes, and soft golden lights. The moment the cars stopped, the exhaustion of the journey dissolved into awe.

Warm lamps glowed along carved corridors. The air smelled of jasmine and lake water. This was not just a destination wedding venue—it was a dream carved in stone.

As everyone stepped out, stretching tired limbs and breathing in the royal calm, excitement bubbled over again. Luggage was carried inside, keys were distributed, and rooms were assigned.

Nisha and Aransh were given a private lakeside suite, greeted with knowing smiles.
Jay and Ansh were assigned a shared room—both groaning instantly but accepting their fate.

Jiya and Suzy squealed in delight as they headed toward their balcony room together.
Bella and Aanya were placed in a spacious heritage suite with tall windows and soft drapes.

And then—

Ishaan and Karan stood frozen. Together.
In the same room. They stared at each other in disbelief. Slowly. Painfully.

Then, in perfect synchronization, they looked away in utter disgust—as if destiny itself had betrayed them.

Karan broke the silence first.

He marched straight up to Mrs. Mehra, his hands folded dramatically.
"Mum," he said with wounded sincerity, "you know how Bhai sleeps. Every time I shared a bed with him as kids, he kicked me off in his sleep. I almost fell off the bed once. I should share with someone else."

Mrs. Mehra adjusted her dupatta calmly.
"But beta, all the rooms are already fixed. Who will you share with?"

Karan's eyes lit up with sudden innocence.
"I can share with Bella, right, Mum?"

Before Mrs. Mehra could even react—

Sikha appeared out of nowhere, grabbed Karan's ear sharply, and twisted it.

"Very clever," she said sweetly. "But no. You will share with Ishaan. And Bella will stay where she is."

The entire lobby burst into laughter.

Karan winced. Ishaan smirked—until reality hit him too.

The groups dispersed toward their rooms. As Bella and Aanya walked away together, laughing softly, flipping their hair like unbothered queens, Ishaan and Karan stood there, watching them like abandoned souls.

Bella linked her arm with Aanya's dramatically. "Darling?"

"Yes, baby?" Aanya replied.

"Let's go."

They walked off together like royalty, not once looking back.

Ishaan's jaw tightened.

He turned to Karan. "Tell your girlfriend to stay away from my wife. I don't want Shautan ( co-wife). I barely got her back."

Karan scoffed. "Same to you. Tell your wife to stay away from my girlfriend. I also  don't want Shautan ( co- wife )  . I fought destiny for her."

Before either could respond— Jay appeared behind them, grinning wickedly.

"Bad news, gentlemen's," he said cheerfully. "You already have Shautan ( co-wife )."

He ran off laughing before they could grab him.

Ishaan and Karan groaned in unison, dragging their suitcases toward their room like soldiers walking into exile.

Inside, as the door shut behind them, Ishaan muttered under his breath, staring at the ceiling.

"Three day's," he whispered. "Just three days. Then she's mine. Officially."

And somewhere down the corridor, Aanya smiled—without knowing why—her heart already feeling closer to home than it had in two long years.

___

The palace had fallen asleep.

Udaipur lay quiet beneath a sky stitched with stars, the lake below reflecting moonlight like spilled silver. Soft curtains fluttered behind them as a cool midnight breeze brushed against their skin.

Aanya stood by the balcony railing, barefoot, wrapped in a shawl. Bella sat on the chair beside her, back resting against the wall, knees pulled to her chest, holding a mug of untouched tea.

For a long time, neither spoke.

Some silences didn't need words. They carried history. Bella broke it first.

"Do you ever think," she said softly, staring at the lake, "that if life had been a little kinder... we wouldn't be who we are today?"

Aanya smiled faintly, but her eyes glistened. "I think about it every day."

Bella turned her head toward her. "Do you regret it?"

Aanya shook her head slowly. "No. I regret the pain. Not the becoming."

The wind whispered between them.

Bella let out a small breath. "You know... when I first met you, I thought you were unbreakable. Cold. Strong. Untouchable."

Aanya laughed quietly. "And I thought you were reckless. Loud. Too alive."

Bella smiled. "Turns out, we were both wrong."

They shared a look—one made of understanding, not explanation.

"I was drowning when I met you," Bella continued. "I never told you that. I smiled through everything. But inside... I was exhausted. Loving someone who wasn't mine . Waiting for a life that wouldn't arrive."

Aanya closed her eyes. "I saw it," she said. "That's why I stayed."

Bella frowned. "You never said anything."

"You didn't need words," Aanya replied. "I recognized the pain. It was the same one I carried."

Bella's voice cracked. "You were broken in ways I couldn't imagine. Still, you held me when I was felling apart."

Aanya finally turned to face her fully. "That's how friendships like ours are born," she said gently. "Not from happiness—but from surviving the same storms."

Tears slipped down Bella's cheeks. She wiped them angrily. "You walked away from everything," she whispered. "Your marriage. Your home. The man you loved. I don't think I could've done that."

Aanya's fingers tightened around the railing. You did baby what you did no one can do." And "I didn't walk away because I stopped loving him," she said. "I walked away because loving him while losing myself was killing me. "I never thought I'd be back like this," she whispered. "Not here. Not with him... not like this."

Bella turned toward her, studying her face gently. "But you are."

Aanya smiled faintly. "Yes. And that's what scares me."

She stared at the moon, eyes glassy. "Two years ago, I left because I couldn't breathe. Every corner reminded me of what I lost... of what he broke. I was afraid if I stayed, I'd disappear completely."

Bella nodded. "You didn't run. You survived."

Aanya swallowed. "I rebuilt myself. Piece by piece. Alone. I learned how to live without waiting for him to say sorry. Without hoping he'd change." Her fingers tightened around the mug.

"And now," she breathed, "he looks at me like I'm his miracle. Like he waited every second. Like losing me destroyed him."

Bella smiled softly. "Because it did."

Aanya's voice cracked. "What if I fall again, Bella? What if I forget how strong I became?"

Bella reached out, covering Aanya's hand. "Then you'll rise again. But this time, you won't rise alone."

Aanya finally looked at her. "Do you really think he's changed?"

Bella didn't answer immediately. She glanced toward the opposite wing of the palace, where a single balcony light still glowed.

"I think," she said carefully, "that man has been punishing himself every day for two years. And tonight? He's terrified you'll disappear again."

Aanya let out a shaky laugh. "He used to be fearless."

"He still is," Bella replied. "Just not where you're concerned."

Aanya's eyes softened. "When he stood there yesterday holding my hand ... when our eyes met... it felt like time folded in on itself. Like my heart recognized him before my mind could stop it."

Bella squeezed her hand. "That's love, darling. Not the easy kind. The earned kind."

Aanya leaned her head against Bella's shoulder. "I don't want to go back to who I was."

"You won't," Bella said firmly. "You're not the girl who left anymore. And he's not the man who hurt you."

Aanya exhaled slowly, letting the night air fill her lungs.

"Then maybe," she whispered, "this time... we'll choose each other. Not out of pain. But out of peace."

Bella smiled, resting her cheek against Aanya's hair. "And that," she murmured, "is how love finally wins. "You rebuilt yourself. "From nothing."

"And you," she replied, "learned how to choose yourself." They stayed like that, wrapped in moonlight and memories.

"in just 3 days," Bella said after a while, smiling through tears, "you marry the man who broke you... and waited for you."

Aanya smiled, bittersweet and real. "No," she corrected., I marry the man who learned how not to break me again."

Bella laughed softly. "Damn. That should be written somewhere."

Aanya chuckled. Then, quieter—

"Thank you," she said. "For being my safe place when the world wasn't."

Bella kissed her temple. "Always. No matter where life takes us."

The lake shimmered below. The moon watched quietly  The palace breathed softly. And on that balcony, two women—once shattered, now standing—found peace not in the past they survived, but in the future they were finally ready to claim.

___

The room was dark. Too dark. Too quiet. And far too big for two men who didn't want to be there.

Ishaan lay flat on his back, staring at the ceiling like it had personally betrayed him. One arm was tucked under his head, the other clenched into a fist on the mattress. Every few seconds, he sighed—long, dramatic, deeply offended sighs.

Karan lay sideways on the other bed, scrolling through his phone with aggressive taps.

"This," Ishaan muttered, "is inhumane."

Karan didn't look up. "Which part?"

"All of it."

Karan smirked. "Ah. Missing  your Rose?"

Ishaan turned his head slowly. Dangerously.
"Don't. Use. Her. Name. Casually."

Karan laughed. "Relax, Romeo. You're the one whispering to ceilings."

Ishaan groaned and rolled onto his side. "Do you know where she is right now?"

Karan sighed dramatically. "Yes. With Bella. In their room. Talking. Breathing. Existing. Without you."

Ishaan shut his eyes like he'd been stabbed. "Why do women need to talk so much at night?"

Karan shrugged. "Why do men fall apart when they're in love?"

Silence followed.

Then Ishaan muttered, "She's on a balcony."

Karan blinked. "What?"

"She always goes to the balcony when she's thinking. Left side.  maybe Facing the lake. She holds her cup like this—" he mimed the gesture in the dark, "—as if it's anchoring her."

Karan stared at him. "You're creepy."

"I'm married."

"Not helping."

Ishaan sat up suddenly. "Do you think she's laughing?"

Karan frowned. "With Bella? Definitely."

Ishaan's jaw tightened. "About me?"

Karan smirked. "Absolutely."

Ishaan fell back on the bed with a thud. "Two years. Two years of sleeping on the floor. Two years of counting days. And now she's two rooms away and I'm sharing space with you."

"Wow," Karan said, offended. "I left my girlfriend for this."

"Your girlfriend is with my wife."

"Exactly my point."

They both sighed in perfect synchronization.

After a beat, Karan said quietly, "Bhai... are you scared?"

Ishaan didn't answer immediately. "Yes," he admitted finally. "Terrified."

Karan turned serious. "Of losing her again?"

"Of getting her back," Ishaan replied. "And doing it wrong."

Karan nodded slowly. "She's not the same Aanya."

"I know," Ishaan whispered. "And neither am I."

Another silence. Deeper this time.

Then Ishaan suddenly sat up again. "What if she misses me right now?"

Karan snorted. "Of course she does."

"What if she's thinking I don't want her?"

Karan threw a pillow at him. "You proposed in front of two families. On your knees. After drinking salt and chilli tea. Stop overthinking."

Ishaan caught the pillow. "Still."

Karan sighed and locked his phone. "Bhai... she came back. She hacked your company just to announce herself. Women don't do that unless they're sure."

A slow smile crept onto Ishaan's lips.

"She did, didn't she?"

"Yes," Karan said softly. "And tomorrow... she's going to be right in front of you. In daylight. No distance. No silence."

Ishaan lay back down, finally calmer.

"Still," he murmured, "if she smiles at someone else tomorrow—"

"I'll distract you."

"If someone touches her—"

"I'll tackle them."

"If Bella hugs her too long—"

"Okay now you're unreasonable."

They both laughed quietly, the tension easing.

As sleep finally approached, Ishaan whispered into the dark—

"Just two more night."

Karan smiled, eyes closing.
"Then forever."

Outside, the moon bore witness to two men—jealous, hopeful, exhausted—waiting for love to officially begin again.

___

Morning arrived in Udaipur wrapped in sunlight and laughter.

The palace hummed awake—curtains fluttered, doors opened, footsteps echoed down marble corridors. One by one, everyone gathered for breakfast, filling the long dining space with chatter, teasing, and sleepy smiles. The table overflowed with food, but the real feast was the energy—bright, warm, alive.

Ishaan entered with Karan beside him, both freshly dressed and painfully alert.

Their eyes searched instinctively. And there they are.

Aanya and  Bella, seat with Suzy, and Jiya, laughing softly, aanya hair loose, sunlight dancing across her face. Ishaan's breath hitched. Two years of waiting—and now she was right there, close enough to touch, yet untouchable.

He took one step toward her. Karan followed. Before either could reach their destination—

"Good morning, boys!" Jay said loudly, stepping right into their path.

Ishaan stopped abruptly, jaw tightening. "Jay."

Jay smiled innocently. "Why are you both walking like synchronized soldiers?"

"We're going to sit," Karan replied flatly.

Jay glanced toward the girls. "Ah. Of course."

Another step—

"Coffee?" Aransh appeared from the other side, blocking them again.

Ishaan exhaled slowly, forcing a smile that barely hid his frustration. "Later."

By the time they finally reached the table, Aanya had already shifted seats—now closer to the girls, farther from him.

She glanced up. Their eyes met. She smiled.
And Ishaan forgot how to breathe.

Breakfast began with laughter, plates clinking, and endless conversation. Ishaan barely touched his food. His leg bounced under the table, impatience written all over him.

Then Mrs. Mehra cleared her throat. Instant silence.

"I have an announcement," she said calmly.

Ishaan straightened.

"Aanya and Ishaan will not meet alone from today until the wedding."

The words landed like a thunderbolt.

"What?" Ishaan exclaimed instantly. "No. I refuse."

Everyone burst out laughing.

"This is completely unnecessary," he continued dramatically. "I am a grown man. A married—almost married—man."

"You are impatient," Nisha said dryly.

"I am emotional," Ishaan corrected. "There is a difference."

Mrs. Mehra raised an eyebrow. "And emotional men make mistakes."

Aanya hid her smile behind her cup, enjoying every second.

Ishaan looked at her with mock accusation, his brows drawn together, lips pressed thin in wounded disbelief. "You're enjoying this," he said, his voice low, edged with helplessness.

Aanya merely shrugged, the corner of her mouth lifting in a quiet, unapologetic smile.
"Maybe."

Ishaan let out a dramatic sigh, tilting his head back as if fate itself had conspired against him. He ran a hand through his hair, already exhausted by a separation that had not even truly begun.

Soon, the girls drifted toward the poolside, their laughter light and unrestrained, echoing against the blue water and stone walls. The morning sun wrapped everything in gold. Aanya settled at the edge, slipping her feet into the cool water, her laughter blending effortlessly with Bella's and Suzy's and jiya . She looked free, radiant—alive in a way that tightened something deep in Ishaan's chest.

He watched from a distance. Pretending not to. Pretending his eyes weren't following every movement, every smile, every tilt of her head.

Then her phone rang.

Aanya rose, excused herself softly, and stepped away, her voice shifting into calm professionalism as she answered the call. Ishaan saw the moment unfold as if the world had slowed just for him. That was his chance.

He moved quietly, deliberately, as though instinct guided him more than thought. Reaching her, he caught her wrist gently—not to stop her, but to claim her presence for just a heartbeat longer. With a subtle pull, he guided her behind a stone pillar, hidden from wandering eyes.

"Ishaan," what are doing, she whispered, startled, her breath catching. "We're not allowed—what if someone sees us?"

"I don't care," he replied softly.

And then he pulled her into his arms.

The moment her body touched his, the resistance she had carefully built collapsed. She melted against him, as though she had been waiting for this embrace longer than she dared admit. Ishaan lowered his face into her hair, inhaling her like something sacred.

"I missed you," he murmured, the words breaking free again and again, as if repetition might make up for lost time.

Her arms slid around his waist, her forehead resting against his chest, right where his heart thundered for her alone.
"You're impossible," she whispered, a smile in her voice, surrender in her touch.

"You're mine," he replied simply. No grand declarations. No explanations. Just truth.

They stood there, wrapped in each other, breathing in unison, the noise of the world fading until it was nothing more than a distant hum. For those few stolen seconds, there were no rules, no waiting, no boundaries—only them.

Then—

"Ahem."

They froze.

Nisha stood behind them, arms crossed, eyes sharp, her presence cutting clean through the intimacy.

"Five minutes," she said sweetly. "That's a new record."

Aanya let out a soft laugh, her forehead dropping briefly to Ishaan's chest. Ishaan groaned, burying his face into her shoulder like a defeated man.

"This family," he muttered under his breath, "is my greatest enemy."

Aanya smiled, reached up, and pressed a quick, tender kiss to his cheek—brief, but full of promise. Before anyone else could arrive, she stepped back, creating distance even as her eyes held his.

"Wait," she whispered. "Just a little longer."

He watched her walk away, her presence lingering even after she was gone. His heart felt painfully full, his patience tested beyond measure—but his love, stronger than it had ever been.

And for the first time, waiting did not feel like punishment. It felt like hope.

__

Days blurred into laughter, rituals, and soft stolen glances, until the countdown finally reached its most tender moment. Today was the haldi.

Just two more sunrise stood between them and forever. Two more night before vows replaced longing. This time, there was no bitterness, no revenge disguised as destiny—only love, chosen freely, wrapped in happiness.

The palace courtyard bloomed in shades of yellow and marigold. Fresh flowers hung from carved arches, turmeric bowls were arranged on silver trays, and the air carried the earthy fragrance of haldi mixed with laughter and anticipation. Music played softly as women moved about, preparing everything with care and joy.

Inside one of the suites, the girls were getting ready.

Aanya sat near the mirror, sunlight catching in her hair as Bella fussed over bangles and Suzy argued dramatically about who stole whose earrings. jiya is missing from there. Nisha supervised like a general, pretending to be calm but smiling far too much for it to be convincing. Yellow dupattas, fresh flowers, and playful teasing filled the room.

Down the corridor, however, two men had far less patience.

"I'm telling you, one quick look," Karan whispered, creeping forward. "One quick look," Ishaan echoed, already halfway committed to the crime. They tiptoed toward the girls' room like conspirators, hearts pounding—not from fear, but excitement. Just as they turned the corner, their steps halted abruptly.

Their eyes widened.

Ishaan blinked. Slowly. Then again.
"Karan... am I seeing what I think I'm seeing?" he asked, his voice dangerously calm.

Karan leaned forward, squinting.
"Yes, bhai. I am definitely seeing what you are seeing."

Before either of them could process it fully, a third voice slid between them.

"Or have all three of us suddenly lost our eyesight?" Nisha said flatly.

They stiffened.

Then another voice joined, filled with pure disbelief.
"Oh my God... is this real? Or am I imagining things?" Aransh muttered.

All four of them stood frozen, mouths slightly open, eyes locked on the scene unfolding a short distance away.

Ansh and Jiya.

Hidden behind a decorative pillar, they were laughing—soft, unguarded laughter. Jiya's hands rested on Ansh's chest, his arms loosely around her shoulders. They weren't aware of the world, or the consequences, or the four pairs of shocked eyes burning into them. They looked like teenagers caught in a moment that felt stolen, secret, and impossibly sweet.

Not friendship.

Anything but friendship.

"I cannot believe this," Nisha finally said, pressing a hand to her forehead. "Ansh and Jiya? Seriously? I mean, I knew they were close—but this?" She paused, eyes narrowing. "This is not friendship."

"Because it's not, di," Karan said, nodding gravely.

"Yes, di," Ishaan added, still staring. "This is clearly love. I mean... just look at them."

"Oh God," Aransh groaned. "Why do Mehra siblings keep falling for Verma siblings?"

Three heads snapped toward him instantly. Raised eyebrows. Offended expressions.

"Well," Karan said sharply, crossing his arms, "it could be the other way around too. Why do Verma siblings keep falling for Mehra siblings?"

"Correct," Ishaan and Nisha said together—loudly.

Far too loudly. The laughter stopped.

Ansh and Jiya froze mid-breath.

They separated instantly, like children caught doing something forbidden. Jiya stepped back, eyes wide. Ansh ran a hand through his hair, suddenly fascinated by the floor.

Both looked at the four of them standing there—guilty, nervous, exposed.

Silence stretched.

The haldi music played somewhere in the distance, completely unaware that another love story had just been discovered.

And just like that, the wedding celebrations gained one more unexpected chapter.

___

The automatic doors slid open with a soft hiss.

A man stepped out of the airport terminal, the early afternoon light falling across his face. He paused, as if the world itself needed a moment to recognize his return. Drawing in a slow, deliberate breath, he tilted his head back slightly and smiled.

Not a warm smile. A dangerous one. "Ahh... finally," he murmured, his voice low and satisfied. "I am back."

His eyes gleamed with something sharp—unfinished business, buried resentment, and a thrill that came only from chaos. The corners of his lips curved upward again, this time darker, more mocking.

"I am back, Ishaan Mehra," he said, tasting the name like a challenge. "You are not a very good friend. Getting married and not even inviting your best friend." He let out a soft laugh, one that carried no humor at all. "It's fine," he continued, shrugging lightly. "I came on my own."

The laugh that followed echoed—slow, manic, unsettling—drawing a few uneasy glances from passersby. He didn't notice. Or perhaps he didn't care. Moments later, he slid into the back seat of a sleek black car. The door shut with a dull, final thud.

The driver turned slightly. "Where to, sir?"

The man leaned back, eyes closing for a heartbeat before opening again, fire burning behind them.

"Udaipur," he said simply.

The car pulled away from the curb, disappearing into traffic—toward celebrations, toward vows, toward a wedding drenched in love. And toward a storm that no one saw coming.
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Bye-bye, take care my lovelysssss.🫀✨🫂☺️