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‘Atharv!’ she said softly, unable to stop the blush she knew was rising on her cheeks.
‘The blushing bride?’ Atharv said in a whisper as he walked up to her, his eyes not leaving hers for a second.
‘You look beautiful,’ he murmured, kissing her on her lips and pulling back to admire her again. Koyal smiled shyly and for a moment rested her head on his shoulder.
‘Dadi,’ Mansha said, turning to Surya who had trooped in as well, ‘can I wear Koyal Aunty’s sari on my wedding day too?’
‘Yes, of course you can, young lady, but I think that day is a few years away – at least I hope so,’ Surya said, grinning and rolling her eyes.
Flanked on either side by Atharv and Mansha, two people she loved the most in the world, Koyal was on her way to the mandap.
‘Koyal,’ Atharv said, turning to face her.
‘Yes?’
‘I need to say something.’
‘Yes?’
‘I am sorry about what Nili did.’
Koyal stared blankly at Atharv, but something in her stomach sank on hearing these words.
‘I read the letter,’ he said simply.
Oh god, no.
‘And do you know what I struggle with the most? That despite all that she had done to you, you have never said one bad word about her to me.’
Koyal smiled and affectionately touched Atharv’s cheek.
‘I hated her for ten long years, Atharv, and then I was done with all the hatred. And what she did, she did just because she loved you so much. And how can I grudge any love that came your way, even if it did not come from me?’
Atharv stared at her for a few seconds and then smiled.
‘I love you, Koyal,’ he said.
‘I love you too, Atharv,’ Koyal replied and they began walking again.
And then, just like that, completely out of the blue, something from the conversation she’d had with Atharv four months back at South Bank when he had told her he loved her, came to her.
She stopped in her tracks, stunned, unable to breathe.
No, it couldn’t be true, she thought to herself.
‘Koyal?’ Atharv asked. ‘Are you okay?’
Koyal barely nodded her head.
‘Atharv,’ she said, trying hard to keep her voice steady. ‘You said something about using the word love the first time around. That day, at South Bank, that was the first time you were telling me that you loved me, right?’
For a moment Atharv frowned, as if he didn’t quite understand Koyal’s question, but soon his forehead cleared.
‘You got me there,’ he said, grinning. ‘I never really said that before.’ Koyal exhaled, immediately feeling her body relax – false alarm, she said to herself – but Atharv continued, ‘The first time, of course, I wrote it.’
What?
Koyal stared at Atharv, blood draining from her face.
