
Saisha’s POV
The sound of wedding drums echoed through the house, the air thick with the scent of incense and marigolds. Women moved around in a flurry of colors, their bangles clinking as they fussed over last-minute arrangements. My mother was among them, her sharp eyes ensuring nothing was out of place.
I sat motionless, draped in a red bridal saree, my hands covered in dark henna patterns—patterns that marked my fate. The heavy jewelry weighed on my neck, but not as much as the thoughts in my head.
This was it.
I had always known my life would come to this moment. Every girl in this village was married off the moment she turned eighteen. I had watched it happen to my school friends, seen them disappear into homes they had never stepped into before. Today, it was my turn.
I wasn’t scared. Scared meant expecting something different. I knew better than to hope.
"Saisha, it's time," my mother said, adjusting my dupatta over my head.
I followed her outside, my feet hesitant but steady. The wedding mandap was set up in the courtyard, glowing under the flickering oil lamps. The entire village had gathered to witness my fate, but my eyes searched for only one person.
Pranay ji.
He stood near the sacred fire, dressed in a cream-colored sherwani. Unlike the other grooms I had seen in this village—older, indifferent, or overly eager—he was none of those things. His face was unreadable, his posture relaxed yet distant.
I wondered what he was thinking. If he was as unwilling as I was.
The priest chanted the sacred mantras as I sat beside Pranay. My hands trembled when he tied the mangalsutra around my neck, his fingers brushing against my skin for the first time. I barely knew this man, yet in this moment, we were bound for life.
As we stood for the pheras, I walked behind him for the first few rounds—just as tradition dictated. But when it was time for me to walk ahead in the last rounds, I hesitated.
What was I stepping into?
Would this be any different from my home?
Would I still be the girl who was never allowed to dream?
I stole a glance at him. His gaze was straight ahead, unwavering, as if he already knew the path he wanted to walk.
I wondered if he would ever let me walk beside him.
The ceremony ended, and the moment my parents touched his feet, my fate was sealed. I was now Pranay Mishra’s wife.
And I had no idea what that meant for me.
Pranay’s POV
I had never thought about marriage before. Never wanted it.
Yet, here I was, sitting in front of the sacred fire, tying a mangalsutra around a woman I had just met.
Saisha.
She barely looked at me throughout the ceremony. She followed every instruction given to her, never once hesitating. If she was nervous, she didn’t show it. If she was scared, she had learned to hide it well.
As we took the pheras, I felt the weight of each step. Not just the responsibility of marriage, but the realization of what she was leaving behind.
She had never stepped out of this village. Never been allowed to.
And now she was stepping into my world—a world completely unknown to her.
I wasn’t sure if she was ready for it.
Hell, I wasn’t sure if I was ready for it either.
When the ceremony ended, I watched as her parents touched and touched their feet, their eyes filled with relief. Their daughter was married now. Their duty was done.
But as Saisha sat beside me, silent and still, I realized something.
Marriage wasn’t just about fulfilling promises.
It was about two strangers finding a way to live under the same roof, with nothing but expectations binding them together.
And as I looked at my new wife, I wondered—would she ever find her voice in my world?
Or would she forever remain the quiet girl from the village, trapped in a new kind of cage?
I glanced at her one last time before we left.
She looked fragile in that heavy saree, like a caged bird that had been handed from one owner to another. But I wasn’t here to clip her wings.
“I won’t be another cage for you, Saisha,” I thought to myself. “If nothing else, I’ll make sure you’re safe. And maybe, one day, I’ll help you fly.”
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