In a old-fashioned coffee shop, the aroma of freshly made coffee hung in the air as fate masterminded an unexpected collision. Vihanaa, a spirited young woman, and Ayaan, a diligent professional, found their worlds colliding when Vihanaa accidentall...
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As we approached Vihanaa's house, a sudden call from my secretary disrupted the course of events. He informed me about an unpredicted meeting with a crucial international client from France, Lucien Beaumont—a deal I had tirelessly worked for, enduring sleepless nights for 3 years straight.
Hesitant yet determined, I considered the implications. I couldn't let my hard work go in vain, and despite the pull of my heart towards Vihanaa's house, duty called.
Desperation to catch a glimpse of Vihanaa pushed me to swiftly conclude the discussion with Lucien. Sensing my urgency, Lucien inquired if something was amiss. Although I typically responded to Lucien with patience, today was different.
As my secretary discreetly whispered about my mom's urgent call and Vihanaa's delay, Lucien overheard. "I think your mom needs you, and whoever Vihanaa is. We can discuss the project later," he suggested.
In a surprising revelation, I confessed, "We were about to go to her house for a hand for marriage. Sorry for today's unprofessional behavior." The official marriage was pending agreement, but with both families committed, the path seemed inevitable.
Lucien, displaying his kind nature, said with a warm smile, "You can go, Ayaan. We can discuss the project in the next meeting. I understand your feelings. And don't forget to send invitation cards of your wedding. If I will be in India, I'll surely be a part of it." Lucien's prioritization of family over business was evident, and I marveled at how he maintained his success while embracing such values.
I shook my hand with him and we bid good bye until our next meet. I hurried toward the car, my driver driving me to Vihanaa house.
......
Entering the Arora Mansion, a wave of nervousness washed over me. I sensed her gaze on me, and though I tried to appear unaffected, the intensity of her stare left me slightly uneasy. As I respectfully touched her parents' feet, they graciously invited me to sit beside her.
Seated beside her, I noticed her gaze shifting away from me. It was my cue to observe her. Although it seemed like she sensed my eyes on her, she deliberately avoided meeting my gaze.
Swiftly, my mom proposed that we talk in private. I appreciated the opportunity for some personal conversation, yet the prospect of being alone in the same room with her filled me with nervous anticipation.
Standing, I extended my hand towards her. Our eyes briefly met for a fraction of a second before she averted her gaze.
She led me towards her room, tucked away in the corner of the house. Although I concealed my nervousness, I could sense hers radiating through the air.
Not wanting the awkward silence to linger, I initiated the conversation. However, an odd realization struck me—normally unshaken during presentations or significant business deals, I found myself grappling with nerves in this seemingly simple interaction. But the girl whom I have met twice because of the clumsy encounter have the ability to make me nervous.
"I hope you're okay with this arranged marriage," I expressed, aiming to break the tension in the air.
"Are we sure this is a arrange marriage, or did you arrange this to make me regret the accidental drop of coffee on your files?" she retorted, catching me off guard. The thought of revenge hadn't even crossed my mind, but I couldn't deny my involvement in orchestrating this marriage. If I hadn't terminated the contract with the Vermas, today, it would have been their son in my position.
I maintained my composure, responding, "No, it isn't arranged for revenge. So would you mind if you answer my previous question?"
The words came out a bit rudely, and I instantly regretted the tone when I saw the hurt expression on her face. Witnessing her upset tugged at my conscience, and the realization that I was the cause of it left me feeling remorseful. But I couldn't let myself apologize. I never apologize in my life other than in business.
She responded, "Would it matter if I wouldn't be Okey with this marriage." She said as if she was upset with this arrangement. Her opinion on this marriage matter more than anything to me.
"It would matter if you weren't okay," I replied, my voice softening. After a while, She confirmed that she was okay with the marriage, and a sense of relief washed over me. However, her voice carried a hint of sadness that intensified my guilt. Avoiding eye contact, she seemed nervous.
"Let's go back downstairs, and we can announce our decision," I suggested, extending my hand towards her. As she took my hand, I found a strange comfort in holding hers – a sentiment I hadn't expected. And I know that instead of holding files and laptop on my hand I would prefer to hold her hand for the rest of my life.
As we descended the stairs, her hand in mine, I sensed her nervousness about announcing our decision. To ease the situation, I took the initiative and addressed her parents, "Vihanaa is okay with the marriage." My words carried a certain assurance, and I hoped it would alleviate any tension in the room.
Dad decided to skip the engagement party, probably recalling my preference for a quiet wedding without any fuss or ceremony.
Despite my previous preference for a quick and quiet wedding, I found myself wanting all the fuss and stress associated with a real marriage. Mom was right; making this business marriage work might not be such a bad idea after all.
So I expressed my desire, "I'd like to have my marriage with every ceremony, making it feel real and amazing. I don't want to miss any of the ceremony. I hope you don't mind, dad." Mom seemed pleasantly surprised, while Dad and Grandma looked a bit shocked, considering I usually prefer things to be quiet.
"Of course I won't mind a bit. I thought you always prefer your marriage to be quiet so to give you peace I offered. I had no intention of making your marrige less real." He said with a smiley face which made Vihanaa smile, I saw her with my side eye.
We went to have food on the dinning table of hers. Her mother or I don't know who prepared the food which were obviously looking so delicious. I pulled up a chair for her beside me and we held a eye contact for a second before she looked away.
We finished eating food and the maid arrived with kheer. It was my favourite since childhood. Sweet food are not really my cup of tea but kheer was something I couldn't control myself from not trying.
As we enjoyed the kheer, Vihanaa suddenly began coughing. Concerned, I observed red marks on her neck, indicating a possible reaction.
She mentioned, "Did you tell the maid about my almond allergy? I think she added almonds to the kheer, now I'm having an allergic reaction." Her mother responded, "I completely forgot about your almond allergy."
I offered her water even though I know it won't work for allergic reaction. Her breathing started to get abnormal and I felt like she was taking my breath with herself. I rushed to call an ambulance, realizing it was a severe allergic reaction but before that she holded me back. And how could a mother forget about their child allergies?
