The next day, Shruti sat on her bed, her eyes swollen from crying the entire night. She had been unable to shake off the pain and hurt that Siddharth's supposed betrayal had caused her.
Just then, a maid knocked on the door and entered with a few outfits draped over her arm. She gently placed them on the bed beside Shruti.
Shruti looked up at the maid, her voice barely above a whisper. "What are these for?" she asked.
The maid smiled sympathetically. "Your mother told me to give them to you."
Before Shruti could respond, her mother's voice echoed from the doorway. "I told her to give them to you."
Shruti's mother walked into the room, her expression a mix of concern and determination. "Shruti beta, your father called Aryan's parents today to discuss some matters about the wedding."
Shruti's eyes widened in surprise. "But mom, the wedding was supposed to be in six months. Why is he rushing?" she asked, a sense of unease growing in her stomach.
Her mother's expression turned somber. "Seeing the circumstances, your father decided to pre-pone the wedding."
Shruti's eyes went wide with shock. "What?!" she exclaimed.
Her mother's voice was firm but gentle. "Yes, it's next month."
Shruti's face felt like it had been punched. She couldn't breathe. "But..." she stuttered, trying to process the news.
Her mother's grip on her shoulder tightened. "Shruti, please. You have already caused so much trouble for your father. Now, please do as he says. This is the only way to stop the rumors."
Shruti felt like she had been silenced. She couldn't speak, couldn't think. All she could do was sit there, frozen in shock and despair.
Her mother's voice broke the silence. "Now, get ready. The Doobays will be here in an hour."
As her mother left the room, a single tear rolled down Shruti's cheek. She felt trapped, like her whole life was being decided for her without her consent.
After an hour, Shruti made her way downstairs, her feet heavy with the weight of her emotions. She had gotten ready mechanically, her mind numb to the reality of her situation. As she entered the hall, she saw Aryan's parents and Aryan himself sitting on the sofa opposite her parents.
She took a seat beside her mother, avoiding eye contact with anyone in the room. Her eyes fixed on the floor, she sat quietly, trying to process the events that were unfolding around her.
Aryan's gaze met hers, and he noticed the puffiness of her eyes and the pale hue of her skin. But he didn't comment on it, instead choosing to focus on the conversation at hand.
"As you know, there have been some rumors going around," Shruti's father began, his voice firm but laced with a hint of concern. "I suggest we pre-pone the wedding to next month."
Aryan's father nodded in agreement. "It's what's best," he replied, his voice dripping with conviction.
Aryan's mother spoke up next, her voice sugary sweet. "We suggest we should do the engagement today."
Shruti's head jerked up in surprise, her eyes wide with alarm. But before she could protest, her mother chimed in.
"It's a good idea," she said, her voice firm but gentle.
The rest of the conversation was a blur for Shruti. She sat quietly, her mind reeling with thoughts of Siddharth and the life she had envisioned for herself. The discussion about the wedding details seemed to go on forever, but eventually, Aryan's parents took their leave.
Aryan, however, stayed behind, asking Shruti to join him in the garden. Shruti reluctantly agreed, her feet carrying her to the garden as if on autopilot.
As they sat down on a bench, the silence between them was palpable. Shruti's eyes fixed on the ground, her mind a million miles away. Aryan's gaze, on the other hand, was fixed on her, his eyes searching for any sign of emotion or connection.
Aryan broke the silence that had settled between them, his voice gentle but inquiring. "I've heard about the rumors."
Shruti's gaze remained fixed on the ground, her voice barely above a whisper. "I guess everyone has heard."
Aryan turned towards her, his eyes searching for any sign of emotion or vulnerability. "Shruti, why didn't you tell me anything?" he asked, his tone laced with concern.
Shruti's shoulders shrugged slightly, her voice dripping with resignation. "What's there to say? Didn't you say you've heard the rumors? They're true. I'm just as they described, a characterle—"
Aryan's finger pressed against her lips, silencing her. "Don't you dare complete that sentence!" he exclaimed, his eyes flashing with indignation.
Shruti's eyes widened in surprise, but Aryan's expression softened as he continued. "Do you really think I believe in that nonsense?" he asked, his voice filled with conviction.
Shruti's gaze met Aryan's, and tears began to roll down her cheeks. She felt a wave of emotion wash over her, and before she knew it, she was hugging Aryan tightly.
Aryan's arms wrapped around her, holding her close as he patted her head soothingly. "There, there," he whispered, his voice a gentle balm to her frazzled nerves.
As Shruti cried, Aryan held her, offering her a sense of comfort and security. After a few minutes, when Shruti's sobs began to subside, Aryan asked, "Now, tell me what happened?"
Shruti took a deep breath, wiping away her tears as she began to recount the events of the trip and everything that had transpired since her return home. Aryan listened intently, his expression empathetic and understanding.
As Shruti finished recounting her story, Aryan's eyes widened in astonishment. "God, it's like a scene out of a movie," he exclaimed, his voice filled with empathy.
Shruti's shoulders slumped in defeat. "I don't know what to do," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
Aryan's expression turned thoughtful, and he asked, "By the way, tell me one thing."
Shruti's eyes met his, curious. "What?" she asked.
Aryan's voice was gentle, but his eyes searched for the truth. "Do you have feelings for Siddharth?" he asked.
Shruti's face scrunched up in puzzlement. "I...don't know," she stammered. "I felt that we had something special. But maybe I was wrong."
Aryan's expression softened, and he turned towards her, taking her hands in his. "I'm with you in any decision you make," he promised, his voice filled with conviction.
Shruti's face broke into a weak smile, and she whispered, "Thank you."
After their heartfelt conversation, Shruti felt a weight lift off her shoulders. For the first time in days, she felt a sense of relief wash over her, knowing that she had someone who genuinely cared for her. Aryan's unwavering support and understanding had given her the strength to face the challenges ahead.
As the evening approached, the house was abuzz with activity. The ring ceremony was about to take place, and the atmosphere was electric. Shruti's family had invited a plethora of guests, including the media and photographers, who were all eager to capture the special moment.
As Shruti and Aryan stood side by side, surrounded by their loved ones, they exchanged rings. The sparkle of the diamonds caught the light, and the cameras clicked away, capturing the tender moment. Shruti's heart felt heavy, but she put on a brave smile, trying to make the most of the situation.
The media and photographers swarmed around them, taking a multitude of pictures from every angle. Shruti and Aryan posed graciously, their smiles fixed on their faces. But despite the fanfare, Shruti's heart remained heavy, her thoughts drifting back to Siddharth and the happy moments they had shared.
The next day, at the opulent Rai Palace, Roohi sat comfortably in the lavish living room, scrolling through her phone with an air of nonchalance. However, her tranquility was short-lived. As she swiped through her social media feed, her eyes stumbled upon a photograph that made her heart skip a beat. It was a picture of Shruti's engagement, and Roohi's eyes widened in utter shock and dismay.
Without hesitation, Roohi sprang to her feet and rushed towards her brother's office, her phone still clutched in her hand. "Bhaiya!" she exclaimed, bursting through the door.
Siddharth looked up from the papers he was studying, a hint of curiosity etched on his face. "What happened?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.
Roohi hastened towards him, her phone extended in front of her. "Bhaiya, look!" she urged, her voice trembling with excitement.
As Siddharth's gaze fell upon the photograph, his grip on the papers he was holding tightened, his knuckles turning white. His eyes blazed with a fierce intensity, his blood boiling at the sight of Shruti's hand nestled in another man's. For a fleeting moment, his emotions threatened to overwhelm him.
However, with a Herculean effort, Siddharth composed himself, his mask of indifference slipping back into place. He averted his gaze, his voice devoid of emotion. "We must congratulate Miss Singh."
Roohi's eyes narrowed, her voice laced with incredulity. "What? Are you for real?! Bhaiya, Shruti is getting married to someone else!" she exclaimed, her words tumbling out in a frantic rush.
Siddharth's expression remained impassive, "What do you mean?" He asked,
"Come on, bhaiya, I know you love her."
Siddharth's eyes widened in astonishment, his gaze locking onto Roohi's. "What?" he muttered, his voice barely audible.
Roohi's smile was a sly, knowing smile. "I knew it from the very start. That's why I planned your whole trip," she revealed, her words dripping with a sense of triumph.
Siddharth's eyes grew even wider, his face pale with shock. "You..." he trailed off, his voice lost in the depths of his emotions.
Roohi's expression turned urgent, her voice laced with a sense of desperation. "Bhaiya, bhaiya! We don't have time for this! Let's go, we need to talk to Shruti."
However, Siddharth's response was icy, his voice devoid of emotion. "We are not going anywhere."
Roohi's eyes pleaded with him, but Siddharth's gaze remained fixed on some distant point, his expression unyielding. "What?! But bhaiya..." Roohi protested, her voice rising in a crescendo of frustration.
Siddharth's gaze snapped back to Roohi's, his eyes glinting with a frosty intensity. "Didn't you hear what I said?" he asked, his voice dripping with an unspoken warning.
Roohi's shoulders slumped in defeat, her voice barely above a whisper. "Fine."
With that, she turned and left the room, leaving Siddharth to grapple with the turmoil that threatened to consume him.
