When Aditi heard those trembling words from her mother — words soaked in guilt, apology, and overdue acceptance — a wave of emotion surged through her chest, as though a dam within had finally broken. Relief, gratitude, and an overwhelming sense of peace washed over her, momentarily stealing her breath.
It was more than just an apology. It was a release from the chains that had bound her heart for years. The scars etched by endless arguments, emotional blackmail, and the silent ache of being torn between love and family… they all began to fade, slowly but surely, under the gentle balm of her mother’s tears.
The bustling store around them — once filled with the sharp clinking of bangles, rustling of silk sarees, and hurried voices of shoppers — seemed to blur into the background. Time stood still for Aditi as she rested her head against her mother’s shoulder, wrapped in the warmth of long-awaited acceptance.
She thought back to those nights — the ones spent crying into her pillow, muffling her sobs so no one would hear. The phone calls with Aman that ended with heavy silences and whispered fears:
"Maybe we won’t make it..."
"Do you think they’ll ever understand us?"
"If loving you is wrong, I don’t want to be right..."
There were days when giving up felt easier than enduring. When even holding hands in public came with the weight of disapproving eyes. But through every heartbreak and hurdle, Aman had stood by her — unwavering, loving, strong.
Just then, a familiar voice broke through her thoughts.
“What’s going on here, ladies?” came Aman’s playful tone, warm and teasing. “Did I miss the grand emotional finale, or are you both crying over how expensive I am?”
Aditi and her mother turned in unison. Aman stood there, bags hanging from both hands, his shirt slightly creased from running around the store. His eyes, however, betrayed the lightheartedness in his tone — they were locked on Aditi, brows knit in gentle concern as he took in her tear-streaked face and red-rimmed eyes.
Her father was just a few steps behind, looking relaxed and even amused, clearly having picked up on the emotional exchange before Aman had arrived.
“Nothing too serious,” her mother said, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. “Just had a little heart-to-heart with our beautiful bride.”
Aman’s gaze didn’t leave Aditi. “Are you okay, Adu?” he asked softly, his voice laced with tenderness, ignoring everything else around him. His tone was different now — careful, as though afraid one wrong word might unravel her all over again.
Aditi blinked away fresh tears and gave him a small nod, followed by a brave, watery smile. “I’m okay,” she whispered, her voice hoarse with emotion. “Better now.”
Her mother chuckled softly, dabbing her own eyes. “See? Crying, both of us — as always. Leave it to women to turn a bridal lehenga trial into a therapy session.”
“And you two say I’m the dramatic one,” her father added, shaking his head. “I just left for five minutes, and now it looks like I missed a whole soap opera.”
Laughter broke out among them, light and genuine, finally lifting the heavy veil that had hung over Aditi’s heart for so long.
Aman stepped closer, taking a full look at her now. His jaw dropped theatrically, but his eyes shimmered with awe.
“My God…” he breathed, almost reverently. “Aditi, you look like you walked straight out of my dreams.”
Aditi felt her heart flutter. The rich red bridal lehenga she wore shimmered under the store lights, its golden embroidery catching every glint like flames dancing over fabric. Her hair was loosely braided to the side, and a delicate maang tikka sat just above her brows, swaying slightly as she looked down, bashful under his gaze.
“Stop it,” she murmured, cheeks flaming. “You’re embarrassing me…”
“Good,” Aman grinned. “You deserve to be admired like this — to be seen like the goddess you are.”
She looked up into his eyes — those eyes that had seen her at her weakest, stood beside her through every storm, and still looked at her like she was magic.
“Let’s finalize this one,” he said, without hesitation. “No more trials. No second options. This is the one.”
Aditi nodded, her voice soft, but steady. “Okay. You decide.”
Her mother wiped another stray tear and smiled. “Aditi, go and change back. We’ll take care of the billing. But don’t take too long — we’ve got a few more shops to conquer before your big day.”
As Aditi turned toward the changing room, she glanced back one last time. Aman was still looking at her — not just at her outfit, but at her — the girl who once thought she might lose him. His eyes were full of the kind of love that doesn't ask for anything in return, the kind of love that endures.
He gave her a small nod, a reassuring smile. And in that gaze, Aditi saw everything they had fought for — the arguments, the defiance, the heartbreak, and above all, the love that had carried them through it all.
She smiled back, her heart full.
They had been bound by love — and finally, it had set them free.
As Aditi turned to enter the changing room, the soft rustle of her lehenga brushing the polished marble floor, a gentle tug on her wrist stopped her mid-step. She turned quickly, startled—only to find Aman’s familiar eyes gazing into hers. Relief flooded her face, and her heartbeat quickened as she realized it was him. His hand was warm, his touch careful, but his eyes held an urgency she couldn’t ignore.
Without a word, he pulled her gently into a quiet alcove behind the changing rooms—an area shielded from the bustling crowd by heavy velvet curtains and soft golden lighting. It was quiet here, the kind of stillness that made every whisper feel sacred. The distant sounds of laughter, clinking bangles, and murmured sales pitches became a muffled echo in the background.
Aman wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting his chin lightly on her shoulder. Aditi melted into his embrace like she was coming home after a long journey. She closed her eyes, breathing in his scent — a comforting mix of sandalwood and something uniquely him. Her hands instinctively reached up, one resting over his arms, the other pressed softly against his chest. She could feel his heart racing—fast and steady, mirroring her own.
“Adu,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, brushing against her ear like a breeze. “After seeing you in this outfit... I think I’ve fallen in love with you all over again.”
His words carried no flirtation—only truth. Raw, vulnerable, soul-deep.
Aditi’s breath hitched, and a rosy warmth crept up her cheeks. She didn’t need to speak. Her body, her trembling fingers, the way she leaned further into his chest—all of it answered for her. She could feel the flutter of emotions in her stomach, a sensation that never faded no matter how many times he held her like this.
Aman tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, letting his fingers linger along the curve of her cheek. “You don’t have to say anything,” he murmured, sensing the emotion building within her. “I can feel it. Every time you look at me like I’m your whole world… I feel it.”
She smiled through misty eyes, hiding her face in his chest, her voice muffled. “You are, Aman. You’ve always been.”
He turned her gently to face him, both of them bathed in the soft golden light filtering through the curtained divider. For a moment, Aman just looked at her—really looked. Her eyes were shimmering with unspoken emotions, her cheeks glowing from the intimacy of the moment, and her lips quivering with a smile that held both joy and relief.
“I don’t think I can wait any longer,” Aman whispered, brushing his knuckles across her cheek. “I want to call you my wife now. Not in a month. Not next week. Today. Right now.”
Aditi blinked away the tears pooling in her eyes. “Do you know how many nights I’ve dreamed of hearing that?” she whispered. “I used to close my eyes and pray that one day, we’d be standing just like this—with nothing between us but love.”
Their foreheads touched, breath mingling in the still air. The silence between them spoke volumes, stretching into the kind of moment where the world stops turning.
Aman’s gaze flickered to her lips, his own parting slightly. “Don’t you feel it too, Adu?” he asked, his voice thick with longing. “That magnetic pull between us… it’s always there. Even in a room full of people, you’re the only one I see.”
Aditi closed her eyes, her heartbeat loud in her ears, and leaned in. Their lips were only inches apart—when suddenly:
“Aman! Where are you, son? Come here!” her father’s voice boomed through the store, jarring the magic of the moment like a stone tossed into still water.
They both jumped slightly, eyes wide, hearts still tangled in the intimacy they were just about to seal with a kiss.
Aman let out a long sigh and pressed his forehead to hers, a crooked smile forming on his lips. “Seriously? He has the worst timing.”
Aditi chuckled softly, her laughter like wind chimes in the wind. “He always does.”
“Coming, Daddy!” Aman called out reluctantly, not moving just yet. He looked at her with boyish frustration mixed with adoration. “You owe me a moment, Mrs. Almost.”
She giggled again, starting to turn toward the changing room.
But before she could take a full step away, Aman grabbed her wrist once more and leaned in close. His breath tickled her ear as he whispered playfully, “I’ll be waiting for that kiss. You can’t escape now.”
Aditi paused—then in a bold, unexpected move, she turned quickly, stood on her toes, and pressed a gentle, warm kiss to his cheek.
Aman froze.
By the time he realized what had happened, she was already walking away with a mischievous grin, her lehenga swishing around her ankles, head held high like a queen who’d just won a battle.
He touched the spot on his cheek, stunned, then smiled—no, grinned—from ear to ear like a man who had just been handed the whole world.
In that stolen moment, hidden away from the world’s eyes, their love didn’t need grand declarations or a ceremony. It was there—in the quiet hug, the whispered promises, and a single, shy kiss.
And as Aman returned to the rest of the family, still smiling like a fool, one thought repeated in his heart like a song:
"We’ve made it, Adu. We really have."
To be continued...........
