“Aditi, go and try this one!”
“I think it’ll look amazing on you—you’ll look like a goddess!”
Aditi turned around, startled yet warmed by the familiar voice. Her eyes met Aman's—her soon-to-be fiancé, the man who had walked into her life with laughter, care, and a quiet kind of chaos she had grown to love. He stood a few steps away, his face lit up with excitement as he pointed eagerly toward one of the mannequins at the far end of the bridal boutique.
“This one?” Aditi asked, her slender finger hovering over a different dress—an ivory and gold lehenga displayed on the opposite side.
Aman chuckled, shaking his head. “No, no—not that one! The one on the right, in the corner! You’ll see why I picked it.”
His tone was playful, almost childlike in its enthusiasm.
Aditi tilted her head, confused yet amused. She squinted toward the direction he was pointing, but she still wasn’t sure. The boutique was large, bustling with other brides-to-be, their mothers, friends, and heaps of rich fabric and shimmer everywhere.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Aman said, unable to contain his excitement any longer. “Just stay here—I'll get it for you!”
Before she could respond, he dashed off, navigating through racks of clothes and eager shoppers. Aditi stood still, her lips curling into a soft smile. Her long dark hair cascaded down her back in soft waves, and her deep brown eyes sparkled with affection as she watched him. Dressed in a simple pastel kurti and jeans, she looked effortlessly elegant—a stark contrast to the dazzling bridal wear around her.
Moments later, Aman returned, breathless but grinning, holding a deep crimson bridal lehenga adorned with intricate golden embroidery. It shimmered under the showroom lights like something straight out of a royal dream.
“Look at this!” he said, presenting it with a flair. “How do you like it?”
Aditi gently took the fabric in her hands, running her fingers across its intricate patterns. The softness, the craftsmanship—it was exquisite. After a pause, she looked up, her eyes glowing with surprise and admiration.
“This is beautiful,” she said softly. “The color, the design, even the fabric—it’s perfect. I love it. You really do have great taste.”
Aman's eyes twinkled as he winked. “I knew my taste was flawless the day I chose you.”
Aditi blushed, the warmth rising to her cheeks. She turned her face away, shy but unable to hide the small, giddy smile tugging at her lips.
As she turned to walk away, Aman caught her hand gently. She stopped in her tracks, her gaze returning to his—soft, fond, and full of something unspoken.
“Be a good boy, okay?” she teased lightly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Don’t trouble me. Just wait here patiently while I try this on.”
She took the lehenga from his hands and walked towards the changing room. Just before stepping behind the curtain, she turned around and added with a smile:
“Wait for me. I’ll be back soon.”
Aman nodded. “Don’t worry, dear. I’m right here. Go change—I can’t wait to see you in it.”
Ten minutes later, Aditi emerged from the changing room, now dressed in the stunning red lehenga Aman had picked. She looked breathtaking. The lehenga hugged her form gracefully, and the golden embroidery caught the light as she moved. Her long hair now fell slightly curled around her shoulders, and her eyes searched the boutique for one face.
But Aman was nowhere to be seen.
Her smile slowly faded. She scanned the room again, expecting to find him standing exactly where she’d left him. Nothing. Her brows furrowed. She stepped forward, looking left and right. Still no sign of him.
Five minutes passed. Then ten.
The initial confusion turned into worry. A knot began to form in her stomach.
“Where is he?” she muttered under her breath. “Did he step out? Maybe to take a call…? Maybe he’s looking for something… or talking to the staff…”
She tried to reason with herself, but the uncertainty was beginning to wear on her.
Her breathing quickened.
“No, he wouldn’t leave me here. He wouldn’t…”
She closed her eyes tightly, whispering to herself:
“Calm down, Aditi. Don’t panic. He’ll be back… He must be…”
But the longer she waited, the heavier her chest felt. Her heartbeat grew louder, faster. Was it abandonment? Was something wrong? Was it a cruel joke?
“No,” she whispered again, a little more desperately.
“He’s nearby… he wouldn’t just disappear…”
And then, just as she felt the wave of fear threatening to engulf her, she felt it—a soft, familiar pat on her head. Her breath hitched. Her heart leapt.
“Aman?” she whispered, turning around quickly with a hopeful smile blooming on her face.
But her smile faltered the moment her eyes met a stranger’s.
It wasn’t him.
It was her mother.
Aditi's heart stumbled a little as her gaze landed on the familiar face—no Aman, just her mother, her expression filled with concern and quiet exhaustion.
"What happened, Aditi? Are you tired?" her mother asked gently, walking up to her daughter with a soft touch on her shoulder.
Aditi forced a smile, swallowing the tight lump in her throat—the mix of disappointment, confusion, and the aching silence of someone she had expected to see.
"Yes, I guess I am, Mom," she replied quietly, the bridal lehenga suddenly feeling a little heavier on her.
Her mother brushed a few stray strands of hair from Aditi’s face and offered a smile, the kind only a mother can give—one that carries strength, softness, and silent understanding.
"Oh, sweetheart... I know. This whole wedding madness, it can drain the joy right out of you. But we’re almost done, hmm?" she said soothingly.
"Once we get home, you can put your feet up and take a proper nap. You deserve it. Beauty sleep is every bride's secret weapon, after all," she added with a soft chuckle, trying to lift her daughter’s spirits.
Aditi nodded faintly.
"You’re right, Mom. I think I just need to… breathe a little."
But her eyes kept drifting around the boutique, searching for someone who still hadn’t returned.
Her mother took a step back, her gaze traveling down the length of Aditi’s frame. She paused—then smiled again, this time more tenderly, more deeply.
"Just look at you," she whispered, her voice a quiet marvel. "So beautiful. So divine in this lehenga. You look like you walked out of a dream… like a goddess."
Aditi blushed faintly, tucking a loose curl behind her ear. Her hands fidgeted at her sides, unsure how to respond to so much emotion layered into a simple compliment.
"Aman picked this out for you, didn’t he?" her mother asked knowingly.
At the mention of his name, Aditi’s face softened. A quiet smile curved her lips as she nodded, not saying a word.
"It suits you perfectly," her mother continued. "And you know… he didn’t just pick this one. He chose outfits for your father, for me… even your little cousin. And they’re all stunning. I can't wait to show you when we get home."
Her voice trembled slightly on that last word—home—and then she fell silent.
Aditi looked at her, sensing the shift.
There was something else.
Her mother took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. She reached for Aditi’s hand and held it, gently but firmly, like she was holding more than just her fingers—like she was holding a truth that had been waiting too long to be said.
"Aditi… my child…" she began, her voice heavy, words coated in vulnerability. "I’m sorry."
Aditi’s brows furrowed. Her breath caught.
"We’re so sorry," her mother continued, her voice cracking. "For not seeing it sooner… how kind he is, how patient. How deeply he loves you. We were so blinded—by our pride, by caste, by tradition—we judged him without giving him a chance."
Tears welled in her mother’s eyes, and Aditi felt her own begin to rise.
"We said terrible things… to him. About him. We made you suffer… and yet, both of you waited. You waited for us to come around. You never gave up hope—even when we didn’t deserve your forgiveness."
Her mother’s hand trembled slightly in hers.
Aditi couldn't hold back any longer. A few tears spilled down her cheeks, warm and silent. And in that moment, all the heartache, all the waiting, all the nights spent wondering if love would ever be enough—it dissolved. Not into nothing, but into something gentler.
She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her mother, holding her tightly, as though to heal the ache in both their hearts.
"Mom… please," she whispered, her voice raw with emotion. "Let’s not go back to that time. We’ve come so far. We’re together now—that’s what matters. We’re not broken anymore. We’re whole."
Her mother clung to her, nodding, whispering through her tears.
"Yes, we’re together. And I thank God every day that we listened. That we finally saw what you saw in him."
She pulled back slightly to look at Aditi, her hands framing her daughter’s tear-streaked face.
"You’re so strong. So much stronger than I ever was at your age. You stood by your love, without hate in your heart, without giving up on us. You’ve grown into a woman we’re so proud of, Aditi. And Aman… he’s not just your choice. He’s our blessing now too."
Aditi smiled through her tears, overwhelmed by the purity of that acceptance.
She leaned forward and kissed her mother’s cheek gently.
"Thank you, Mom. For this moment. For choosing love in the end."
And for the first time that day, the heaviness lifted.
She no longer felt alone in that store.
To be continued ..........
