The next morning, I saw Avi happily humming a song while making breakfast, I went to her and said,"What's up why is our Avi so happy today"
She looked at me and then to the sides as if ensuring that no one was around in particular Aarav and said, " Ray came to my room, yesterday".
I was not surprised and said, "every time he is here, he comes to your room, what's so special about it."
My causual words seemed to have shocked her and her smile froze, shaking her head she glared at me and said," why didn't you say anything about that".
I realised that I never told her about it and scratching my chin in embarassment I said," Well, he is usually arrives late and by the time he comes you would already be sleeping then what's the point"
"Oh I guess that was why spoke without any reservation"
"Right, then what did he say?"
After a minute of begging I was able to find clues in Avi's words, and the conclusion I arrived was a miracle, she said Aarav was able to express his emotions, even though it was only for a second he did that.
Emotions, the most basic thing a human has and there is no requirement of any special qualifications or any reservation for one to have them but for Aarav they were a horrifying subject, that subject which he never passed, then how was he able to able to survive in a society where emotions play an important part. Well the answe is simple by building a wall of so called firends around him who were able enough to do two things one provide new opportunities for business and two shielding from outside world.
But one day, this unbreakable barrier was broken and the one who broke it was Arundathi. The consequences are yet to be discovered, only future will tell us if it was for the best or worse.
The Trivedi Mansion sparkled like a jewel, draped in garlands and bathed in golden light. The reception for Aarav and Arundhati's wedding was about to begin, and even the air smelled different—perfumed with expectation, tension, and secrets.
Aarav stepped out of his car and paused for a moment, taking in the grandeur. He muttered under his breath, "So, I really showed up this time. Guess that means the future's already changing." He remembered from memory—or rather, from another's memory—that the original Aarav had never attended this reception.
He wasn't sure it would change anything. Arundhati would likely still hate him. But if there was a chance it might improve his odds of survival in this world, then attending was worth it.
Inside, the hall buzzed with chatter. Chandeliers glowed above, and servers floated by with silver trays. Aarav spotted Kailashnath scrolling through his phone, aloof as always.
Just as Aarav started to ascend the stairs, Kailashnath's voice rang out mockingly.
"Wow, look who decided to grace us with his presence. Aarav Trivedi. I assumed you'd be too busy partying somewhere to bother with your own reception."
Aarav didn't turn around. His voice was cold, yet poised. "Mr. Kailashnath, two things. One—don't flatter yourself by calling yourself my father. And two—I've never missed an event I needed to be at. Unlike a certain someone who slept through his own son's wedding."
The words hung in the air like a blade. Sharp. Precise.
Kailashnath clenched his jaw but said nothing. The family name was already walking on thin ice. Any scene here would only deepen the cracks.
---
A few minutes later, Aarav was dressed for the occasion—blue blazer sharp against his lean frame, hair combed to perfection. He waited quietly for Arundhati. Their first public appearance as husband and wife loomed, and though he played it calm, his pulse betrayed him.
"Brother Aarav," came a childlike voice, "look at my sister-in-law!"
He turned—and saw her.
Arundhati, draped in a white saree that shimmered in the golden lights. Her beauty wasn't loud, yet it silenced the room. Her elegance didn't seek attention—it commanded it.
Aarav forgot to breathe.
"You… look beautiful," he said, the words slipping out before he could stop them.
Arundhati turned to him with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Save the performance for the audience, Aarav."
She didn't need to say the rest. He understood. Hold your mask in place until we're in front of them. Spare me the act when we're alone.
She had grown immune to his games.
But so had he, to hers.
He grabbed her hand—not gently—and pulled her toward him. His grip tightened around her wrist, firm enough to leave marks. She gasped softly, but didn't pull away.
His voice dropped low, to a whisper only she could hear.
"Who do you think you're fooling, Arundhati?" he murmured. "You and I both know why you're really here… don't we?"
He didn't let go.
Because for all the feelings this new soul inside Aarav could experience, he still had to carry out the act of the man who came before him. The one incapable of love, of empathy. The one who made enemies, not allies.
But that version of Aarav… he's gone.
And yet, here the new one stood—haunted by a legacy he didn't choose, playing a part he didn't write, standing beside a woman who despised the man he had replaced.