The Wedding
Meera Sinha had imagined her wedding a hundred different ways growing up.
A happy family. Soft laughter. Love.
Maybe even a husband who looked at her like she mattered.
But life clearly had other plans.
Because today, she was about to marry a man who looked at her the same way people looked at contracts before signing them.
Cold. Careful. Detached.
The bridal room buzzed with chaos around her.
Makeup artists rushed from one corner to another while relatives whispered excitedly near the door. Someone adjusted her dupatta again. Someone else fixed the bangles sliding down her wrists.
The heavy bridal jewelry dug painfully into her skin, and the deep red lehenga suddenly felt harder to breathe in with every passing minute.
Outside, camera flashes exploded nonstop.
The Khanna wedding was everywhere.
Television channels. Social media. News headlines.
Of course it was.
Aarav Khanna was not the kind of man who did anything quietly.
Meera stared at herself in the mirror.
She looked beautiful.
Perfect, even.
And completely trapped.
“Stop thinking so much,” her mother said softly while fixing the edge of her veil. “This marriage will save us.”
Save us.
Those two words had followed Meera everywhere for the past month.
Save Rohan’s treatment. Save their home. Save the family from drowning under debt they could no longer survive.
Meera closed her eyes for a moment.
This wasn’t for her.
It never was.
The door suddenly opened without warning.
Ishaan Kapoor walked inside dramatically before stopping mid-step.
His eyes widened.
“Wow,” he said slowly. “You actually look like someone willingly getting married.”
Meera rolled her eyes immediately.
“I hate you.”
“I know,” he replied proudly before his expression softened a little. “Still time to run away, by the way.”
For one dangerous second…
the idea didn’t sound terrible.
Then reality hit again.
Hospital bills. Loan notices. Her mother pretending not to cry at night. Rohan smiling through pain like he wasn’t scared.
Meera swallowed hard.
“Too late.”
Ishaan’s teasing disappeared instantly.
“You sure about this?”
No.
Not even a little.
But she nodded anyway.
Before he could say anything else, another voice came from outside.
“The groom has arrived.”
The entire atmosphere inside the room changed.
Even the makeup artists straightened nervously.
That was Aarav Khanna’s effect on people.
Not admiration.
Fear.
And somehow, Meera already hated him for it.
—
The wedding hall looked unreal.
Massive crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead while powerful politicians, celebrities, and business tycoons filled the luxurious venue.
Everything around her screamed money.
Power.
Control.
Meera walked slowly toward the mandap under hundreds of watching eyes.
And then she saw him.
Aarav Khanna stood near the sacred fire dressed in black sherwani, tall and intimidatingly calm.
No nervousness. No excitement. Nothing.
He looked less like a groom and more like a king attending an important business deal.
People respected him.
But nobody looked comfortable around him.
Not even his own family.
As if sensing her stare, Aarav finally looked up.
Their eyes met.
Cold.
Sharp.
Unreadable.
Meera felt irritation rise instantly.
This man was about to become her husband, yet he looked at her like she was another responsibility added to his empire.
Great.
The wedding rituals began.
The priest continued chanting while cameras flashed constantly around them.
Meera barely heard any of it.
Her attention kept drifting back to Aarav.
Every movement of his looked practiced and controlled.
He did everything perfectly.
Emotionlessly.
Not once did he smile.
Not once did warmth touch his eyes.
Then came the sindoor ritual.
For the first time that evening, Aarav paused.
Only for a second.
But Meera noticed.
Something dark crossed his expression before disappearing almost immediately.
Pain.
Real pain.
The sudden glimpse unsettled her more than it should have.
A few whispers nearby caught her attention next.
“Poor girl.”
“She doesn’t even know about the first fiancée.”
“I heard she died before their wedding.”
“Some people say it wasn’t an accident.”
Meera’s fingers tightened around her dupatta.
First fiancée?
Nobody had mentioned that before.
Slowly, she looked toward Aarav again.
And suddenly, everything about him made sense.
The silence. The coldness. The emptiness in his eyes.
This man carried ghosts with him.
The ceremony finally ended hours later with loud applause and endless photographs.
Aarav held her hand for the cameras when required.
Even that felt controlled.
Like obligation instead of affection.
By the time the final guests left them alone, exhaustion had settled deep into Meera’s bones.
The hallway leading toward the royal suite upstairs was finally quiet compared to the madness downstairs.
She stepped inside slowly.
The room was huge.
Elegant.
Cold.
Exactly like him.
Meera began removing her jewelry in frustration before hearing footsteps behind her.
She turned immediately.
Aarav stood near the door, still calm and unreadable as ever.
For a few seconds, silence filled the room heavily.
Then he finally spoke.
“Don’t misunderstand this marriage, Meera.”
His voice was deep, steady, and emotionally distant enough to sting.
Her jaw tightened.
“I’m not misunderstanding anything.”
“You’ll have respect, security, and my family name,” he said calmly. “But that is all this marriage will ever be.”
The words hit harder than she expected.
Meera let out a bitter laugh.
“You really know how to make a girl feel welcome.”
No reaction.
That annoyed her more.
Aarav walked toward the table and removed his watch casually.
“There’s another bedroom through that door. You can stay there.”
Separate rooms.
Of course.
Meera crossed her arms.
“Tell me honestly,” she said dryly. “Was this marriage your grandmother’s idea, or are you naturally this charming?”
For the first time that night, Aarav looked directly at her.
Something dangerous flickered behind his eyes.
“Tread carefully, Meera.”
The tension between them shifted instantly.
Sharp. Heavy. Almost explosive.
But instead of backing away, Meera stepped closer.
“And what happens if I don’t?”
Silence stretched between them.
Then unexpectedly—
Aarav moved closer too.
Close enough for her to notice the exhaustion hidden beneath his cold exterior.
Close enough to see sleepless nights buried inside his eyes.
“You’ll learn very quickly,” he said quietly, “that this house survives on rules.”
Meera held his gaze stubbornly.
“And I’ve never been very good at following them.”
For the first time all night—
something almost like amusement flickered across Aarav’s face.
Only for a second.
Then it disappeared completely.
“Get some rest,” he said finally.
And without another word, he walked out of the room.
Leaving behind silence.
And the strange feeling that Meera had just stepped into something much darker than an arranged marriage.
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