Kayalvizhi pov:

The mandapam was bright with lights and noise, the smell of sandalwood and jasmine floating through the air. I was sitting in the side room with Amma and Paati, my saree pinned perfectly, gold bangles lined up on both hands, and a red bindi that Amma had carefully placed in the centre of my forehead.

I kept stealing glances at the entrance.

Any minute now, they'll call me. The bride always enters after the groom sits down.

I heard Appa laughing with some relatives outside. Amma looked happy, wiping imaginary sweat off her forehead even though the AC was on full blast. She kept fussing over my pleats and tucking back stray strands of my hair.

"Just few more minutes, ma," she said, patting my cheek. "Everything's perfect."

I nodded, smiling, heart racing. I was about to become his wife. I couldn't wait to see Arjun mama sitting there in his white dhoti and shirt, solemn and handsome, waiting for me.

But then... minutes passed.

Then ten.

Then fifteen.

I heard whispers. Chairs moving. People murmuring. A few distant voices rising.

"What's happening?" I asked, standing up.

Amma's smile froze. "Nothing... maybe he went to the restroom or something."

Then suddenly, Ezhil burst into the room, no mischief on his face, only panic. "Arjun Anna is missing."

(anna-Brother)

The sentence didn't make sense in my head.

"What?"

"He's not in the groom's room. His phone is switched off and on the table. And... there's a letter."

The next few minutes are a blur.

Appa shouting. Amma crying. Someone reading the letter aloud to a group of stunned elders and relatives. My body frozen to that one spot.

I heard the words, but it felt like they were meant for someone else. Not me.

 "I can't do this. I never loved Kayal. I've always seen her as a relative, nothing more. She's dusky, chubby, loud, stuck in a village mindset. I've fallen for someone else — someone with ambition, someone who thinks like me, someone from the city. I'm choosing what I want. I'm sorry."

The voice reading it trembled. Gasps around the room.

But inside me was silence.

Not a single tear fell. My face was still. My heart... not just broken, but shattered and scattered into pieces too small to even feel.

People began murmuring.

"She was always so talkative..."

"Yes, and laughs loudly all the time. Even came home late once, no?"

"Always wearing those clothes, joking too much..."

As if I had caused this.

As if my joy was something to be ashamed of.

My head spun.

Then I heard Appa's voice, loud and clear — angry like I'd never heard before.

"I never begged your son to marry my daughter! This was between you and your sister. If he didn't want to marry, he could've said so earlier!"

He pointed to Arjun's father.

"If he wanted that city girl, he could've married her. But who is he to compare my daughter? What right does he have? He doesn't deserve her! He's a coward, not a man--not even a human!!."

Everyone fell silent.

"But this village..." Appa continued, his voice breaking, "this village will always point fingers at my daughter... because of your son's foolishness."

That's when Arjun's father, the man who had always smiled proudly at our family functions, suddenly fell at my feet.

"I'm sorry, ma... I raised him thinking I gave him values... but now everyone will question my upbringing. I didn't do anything wrong... But still, it's my blood that did this. Please... please, marry my younger son, Ezhil."

My heart stopped.

What?

What is happening?

I turned and saw Ezhil standing still, stunned like a statue. His mouth opened slightly, but no words came.

"No," Appa snapped. "We're not forcing her into anything."

"Please," Arjun's father folded his hands. "Otherwise, I'll live and die with this guilt."

Amma started crying. Paati held my hand. "Ma, just say yes. Ezhil is a good boy. He'll take care of you."

"I don't care about anyone else," Appa said. "This is my daughter. She deserves time, respect, choice!"

Voices rose again.

Everyone had an opinion.

Yes, marry.
No, wait.
Yes, it's the only way.
No, don't ruin another life in hurry.

And then...

I spoke.

"Appa."

He turned to me. His eyes were full — anger, pain, guilt.

"It's okay," I said, softly but clearly. "I will marry him."

He looked at me like I had slapped him.

"No, Kayal... don't say that because of pressure. Don't do this to please anyone."

"I'm not," I whispered. "If I don't say yes now, you'll carry this pain forever. I've always done what this family asked. Let me do this one more thing. Just... let's end this chapter. Please."

And without even realizing, my hands folded in my lap.

I wasn't excited anymore.

I wasn't dreaming of Bangalore or orange ice cream or soft conversations.

I was just... tired.Tired of everything!!

And ready to be whatever this world now expected me to be.

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