A week ago, I celebrated my first job. A week ago, I felt like my life was finally beginning.
And now, in two days, I will be married to a man I did not know.
A man I had only met once, when I collapsed in his arms in an elevator.
I wrapped my arms around myself and let the tears fall.
Chapter 5
Armaan
Dadi and I came back from the hospital in silence. The weight of what I had agreed to sat heavy on my chest, making it difficult to breathe properly. As soon as we stepped through the front door, Dadi called for Mamta.
"Mamta, we need to start preparing for a wedding. Tomorrow."
Mamta's eyes widened.
"Tomorrow, Dadi? But that is so soon. We do not have time to arrange anything proper."
Dadi waved her hand dismissively.
"It will be a small ceremony. Just the immediate family. Make the necessary calls. Get the pandit. Prepare the house."
I took Dadi's arm gently and guided her toward her room. She was still weak from the hospital visit, and I could see the exhaustion in her face. Once we reached her bedroom, I helped her sit down on the bed and arranged the pillows behind her back so she could rest comfortably.
"Do not take any stress, Dadi," I said firmly. "You can give instructions from here. Let Mamta and the others handle everything."
She looked up at me, her eyes soft with gratitude and something else I could not quite identify. Relief, maybe. Or hope.
She opened her mouth to say something, but before she could speak, I heard footsteps in the hallway. Aryan appeared in the doorway, his expression concerned.
"Dadi, are you alright? I heard you were at the hospital."
Dadi smiled at him.
"I am fine, beta. I will be even better once Armaan is married and settled this Sunday."
I felt my jaw clench. I could not help it.
"Aryan, come. Let her rest."
I walked out of the room, and Aryan followed me without question. We went downstairs and straight out the front door. I needed to get out of this house. I needed air. I needed a drink.
"Where are we going?" Aryan asked as I headed toward my car.
"The pub."
He did not argue. He just got into the passenger seat, and I drove us to our usual spot. It was a quiet place, dimly lit and relatively empty on weeknights. Perfect for conversations you did not want anyone else to overhear.
We settled into a corner booth, and I ordered whiskey. Aryan ordered the same.
"So," Aryan said once the drinks arrived. "Are you going to tell me what the hell happened today? Because Dadi mentioned a wedding tomorrow, and last I checked, you were supposed to fix the date for now."
I took a long drink, feeling the burn of alcohol slide down my throat.
Then I told him everything. The visit to Avija's house. The astrologer's prophecy. The ridiculous solution involving marrying a stranger for a year. Sangeetha aunty pulling out her niece's kundali like it was some kind of game card. The argument. Dadi's collapse. The hospital. My agreement.
Aryan listened without interrupting, his expression growing more incredulous with each detail.
