Saisha’s pov

The women in the house were busy, voices overlapping as they prepared for the guests. I sat in the corner, hands folded in my lap, watching my mother rush around, ensuring everything was perfect. I knew why they were coming. I had heard whispers of it for weeks.

A marriage proposal. My marriage.

I should have been nervous, but I wasn’t. There was nothing for me to decide. My life had never been my own to choose. I was told to sit quietly, to lower my gaze, to answer only if asked. That was how it always was.

A commotion near the entrance told me the guests had arrived. My father’s voice boomed as he greeted them, laughter filling the air as men spoke of old times. The women stayed back, peeking from the kitchen. I kept my eyes lowered, waiting.

“Saisha, bring the tea,” my mother ordered.

I stood up, careful not to make a sound, and picked up the tray. My hands were steady. I had served tea a thousand times before. But this time, my future was being decided in the same room.

I walked into the hall, keeping my eyes down, the way I was taught. I could feel them watching me. My father, my uncle, the man who was going to be my husband.

Pranay ji.

I placed the tray on the table and turned to leave when my father’s voice stopped me. “Saisha, greet them properly.”

I clenched my fingers. Taking a slow breath, I lifted my gaze - just for a second.

And in that second, I saw him.

He wasn’t old like some of the men my friends had been married to. He wasn’t staring at me like I was a thing to be examined. He wasn’t smiling either. His face was unreadable, his eyes sharp but quiet.

I lowered my gaze again, murmuring a soft, “Namaste,” before turning away.

I could feel his eyes on me, not with interest, not with affection - just observing.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur. I wasn’t invited into the discussion. It wasn’t needed. Decisions about my life were being made without me.

When they left, I let out a breath. The next time I saw him, I would be his wife.

Pranay’s pov

The village hadn’t changed. It still looked the same as it did when I had left years ago, hoping never to return. But life had its way of dragging me back.

I sat in the chair, listening to Uncle and Saisha’s father talk about old times. My uncle had raised me like his own after my parents died, and I owed him everything. That’s why I was here.

To keep a promise.

“She’s a good girl,” her father said proudly. “She’s never questioned our traditions, never stepped outside without permission. She would be A perfect wife.”

I didn’t respond. I wasn’t looking for a perfect wife. I wasn’t looking for a wife at all. But duty had a way of making decisions for us.

Then she walked in.

She was smaller than I expected. Not just in height, but in presence. She carried herself like someone who was used to being unseen. Her eyes were lowered, her movements practiced. She didn’t look at me - not until her father told her to.

For a second, her gaze lifted.

And in that second, I saw something unexpected. Not shyness. Not excitement.

Curiosity.

It was gone just as quickly, her eyes dropping again as she murmured a greeting. But I had seen it.

She wasn’t just a quiet, obedient girl. She was someone who wondered.

And for the first time since agreeing to this marriage, I felt something unfamiliar.

A hint of intrigue.

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