𝚃𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐

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Vihanna

With a gentle kiss on my forehead, he departed for work, even on the day of our reception. While it may seem unconventional, as long as he arrives on time, everything is alright.

Learning more about the newcomer, Esha, I find myself not particularly fond of her. The attempts to cling to my husband don't sit well with me, not one bit.

As I was about to head to our room, she cornered me, perhaps with intentions or questions that I wasn't quite prepared for.

She confronted me, accusing me of meddling in her supposed relationship with Ayaan. Her words hinted at a story, stirring a complex mix of emotions in the air.

"I don't know what you did to my Ayaan. He was supposed to marry me. If only you won't have step into our life I would have married him. He was mine and you stole him from me."

Her words struck a chord, making me feel uneasy. From what I gathered from his sister, she hadn't been in a position to address anyone as "Bhabhi" for quite a few years.

"He's not anyone property to be stolen. He is my husband now and it's better if you stay in your limit. I have seen you trying to cling on my husband and I hope there won't be any next time."

I responded, expressing my discomfort with her insinuations. The idea that I "stole" Ayaan triggered a sense of anger; relationships aren't possessions to be taken.

Her evident displeasure with Ayaan being my husband was palpable. The glare she shot my way spoke volumes, and she left with a muttered comment, leaving the air thick with tension.

"I will make sure you regret marrying him."

Attempting to brush off her words, I found myself struggling against the tide of overthinking that threatened to engulf my thoughts. Some words have a way of lingering, no matter how much we try to dismiss them.

Overthinking has a way of stretching the day longer than expected, creating a mental landscape that seems to linger in the minutes and hours.

Dressing up in a lehenga that feels heavier than my entire weight—an elegant yet burdensome choice for the day. The sacrifices we make for the sake of appearances.

The allure of comfort in jeans and a t-shirt is undeniable. If given the choice, I'd gladly trade the elaborate attire for something more relaxed at my own reception.

Vedika came to my rescue for the makeup session, showcasing her skill that surpassed my own. Particularly, my struggles with eyeliner became apparent—I'm far from being an expert in that department.

As Vedika departs, the door swings open with a prior knock. Ayaan strides in, his gaze immediately fixating on me at the dressing table, creating an unspoken connection that speaks volumes.

"You look.... Stunning." Even though I heard his compliment, it felt like a dream. Ayaan showering me with compliments seemed almost implausible, creating a surreal moment that I couldn't quite believe.

"What?" A smirk played on his lips as I questioned him, signaling the onset of his teasing mode. Oh, the familiar dance of banter and playfulness.

As he approached, I stood my ground, refusing to back away.

He halted, just inches away. His towering height, even with my heels on, left me at the level of his shoulders. A slight tilt of his head was necessary for him to meet my gaze, emphasizing the contrast in our statures.

Closing the distance even further, there was a fleeting moment where I entertained the thought that he might lean in for a kiss. The anticipation hung in the air, adding a layer of tension to the moment.

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