“Try the next one,” Kavita said gently.
Divya retreated.
The second lehenga was brighter, almost orange-red with gold embellishments. When she emerged, Ishani winced slightly before catching herself.
“The embroidery is stunning,” she managed.
Vikram pushed off from the doorframe, stepped closer, studying her with an intensity that made her skin prickle. “Too bright. It washes her out.”
He nodded toward a darker option. “Try the burgundy.”
Divya fled back to the dressing room, breath coming faster than it should.
He ordered these two days ago. Gave them her measurements. How did he even have her measurements?
The third lehenga. The fourth. The fifth.
Each time she emerged, she offered only a slight nod when asked her preference. Each time, the women tried to sound encouraging. Each time, Vikram’s quiet assessment cut through the politeness with brutal honesty.
“Neckline’s wrong for her frame.”
“Color’s too cool.”
“Embroidery overwhelms her.”
By the seventh lehenga, Divya felt like an awkward mannequin being dressed and undressed for an audience. Her responses had dwindled to near-silence, just small nods, tight smiles, and quick retreats.
“Two more,” Kavita said encouragingly. “You’re doing wonderfully.”
The eighth lehenga was coral-toned. Beautiful. Expensive. Wrong.
Divya saw it in their faces before anyone spoke.
“One more,” the designer said, lifting the final creation with something like reverence.
Deep crimson silk that seemed to glow from within. Gold embroidery so intricate it looked like lace. A dupatta that caught light like captured fire.
In the dressing room, Divya slid the fabric over her body.
And froze.
It fit.
Not just approximately. Not just well.
Perfectly.
The blouse hugged her exactly right. Not tight, not loose. The skirt fell at precisely the correct length. The waist sat where waists were meant to sit, as though the measurements had been taken from her own body.
Her hands trembled slightly as she adjusted the dupatta.
When she stepped out, she didn’t need their reactions to know this one was different.
Kavita’s breath caught audibly. Ishani’s teasing smile vanished, replaced by something softer. The designer actually beamed.
And Vikram?
Vikram’s jaw tightened. His eyes darkened to something dangerous. His hands curled slightly at his sides.
