The wedding hall glowed like a dream woven in gold.
The fragrance of roses and sandalwood lingered in the air as the sacred fire flickered in the center of the mandap - its flames rising and falling like whispered vows.
Guests gathered in hushed excitement, the murmur of blessings blending with the soft hum of shehnai.
It was the perfect night - the kind every family dreamed of - and yet, in the Raizada mansion's proudest hour, silence hung heavy between the bride and groom.
Sidharth Raizada sat beside his bride, calm and still, his expression unreadable. He looked every bit the perfect groom - composed, respectful, steady.
But his eyes never once turned toward her.
And the bride - veiled, graceful, her hands trembling slightly as she folded them before the sacred fire - kept her gaze fixed on the floor.
Even when the priest called their names together, their eyes never met.
It was a wedding bound by tradition, not emotion - a ceremony where every mantra spoke of union, but the air felt like parting.
The priest began his chant, voice deep and rhythmic:
"Om mangalam bhagwan vishnu..."
The Sanskrit syllables filled the air, echoing through the open courtyard, touching every corner of the Raizada home.
Dadi closed her eyes in silent prayer, Rajendra and Anuradha sat side by side, their hands joined, their hearts full.
As each ritual unfolded -
the Kanyadaan,
the Hastmilap,
the Agni Saakshi Pheras -
the family watched with smiles, tears, and pride.
Aavyansh threw rose petals at his brother teasingly, earning a small smile from Shaurya.
Yet both brothers could see the truth behind that faint curve of Sidharth's lips - it wasn't joy. It was acceptance.
When the priest announced the Saat Pheras, the music softened.
Seven sacred steps - seven promises - seven chances to look at each other.
But even then, they didn't.
Sidharth's eyes stayed fixed on the fire; hers remained hidden behind the veil.
With every circle, the priest's chant grew louder -
"For prosperity."
"For strength."
"For faith."
"For love."
The fourth mantra hung in the air - the one that spoke of companionship through joy and sorrow - and for a fleeting second, something flickered in Sidharth's gaze.
A memory.
A name.
A shadow that refused to fade.
When the rituals ended, the priest smiled, raising his hand in blessing.
"The marriage is complete. You are now one in the eyes of the sacred fire."
Applause filled the air, rose petals rained, and the sound of conch shells echoed like thunder.
Everyone rejoiced.
Everyone smiled.
Everyone... except the two who now sat as husband and wife - strangers bound by sacred vows, while their hearts beat for different tomorrows.
Sidharth folded his hands before the priest, then before his elders.
His bride mirrored his actions perfectly, her silence flawless, her grace unbroken.
But behind that veil, she, too, did not shed a tear -
because sometimes even hearts know when a marriage is only a ceremony, not a union.
And as the fire slowly dimmed to embers,
Sidharth Raizada finally looked away from it -
his face calm,
his eyes cold,
his heart... still waiting for a woman who once promised to love him forever.
The final ritual was done.
The sacred fire was now only a circle of glowing embers, its light softening as dawn crept into the horizon.
Shaurya Raizada stood near the car porch, his phone in hand, eyes fixed on his elder brother and the new bride who now walked toward the waiting car. His expression was composed, but his silence spoke a hundred thoughts.
Behind him, the bidaai began - that ancient moment of tears and goodbyes.
But this one... felt different.
The bride's mother clung to her daughter, voice breaking, "It's best for you, beta. One day you'll understand."
Her words hung in the air, unanswered.
The girl didn't speak. She didn't even blink back tears.
She simply stood there, her face calm, her eyes hollow.
When her father came forward - arms trembling to bless her - she stepped back quietly, not meeting his gaze.
Then, wordlessly, she turned and walked toward Sidharth's car.
Shaurya's chest tightened. Even Aavyansh, who stood beside him, looked strangely disturbed.
No tears. No goodbye. No emotion. Just silence.
Sidharth opened the car door for her - out of duty, not tenderness.
As she sat beside him, he noticed her fingers slightly trembling, a single tear glistening on the back of her hand.
Without a word, he took out his handkerchief and placed it on her palm.
She didn't look up - just held the fabric in silence.
The car door shut, and as it drove away from the Raizada mansion, the sky turned the pale gold of dawn.
It was already 4 a.m. The wedding was over.
The celebration had ended - but something else had begun.
---
Shaurya exhaled deeply, ready to finally leave for home when his phone buzzed.
"Sir," his guard's voice came through, hurried and uneasy. "The girl you brought last night-she's conscious now."
Shaurya straightened instantly. "Good. Keep her comfortable, I'll come after the-"
Before he could finish, the guard cut in, voice sharp.
"Sir, she left. We tried to stop her, but she's... she's like fire, sir. Angry as hell. She didn't listen to anyone."
Shaurya's brows furrowed. "What? She left?"
That one word - she - had already caught Aavyansh's attention. He turned sharply, the teasing light in his eyes replaced by curiosity.
"She?" he repeated, his tone laced with interest. "Who's she, bhai?"
Shaurya shot him a look - the one that said not now. But Aavyansh only grinned wider.
"Oh, come on. You rescued a girl in the middle of the night and didn't even tell me? That's rare, even for the great Shaurya Raizada."
Shaurya sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Not what you think, Aavyansh."
"Hmm," Aavyansh hummed, smirking. "That's what everyone says right before it becomes what I think."
The car door shut, and as it drove away from the Raizada mansion, the sky turned the pale gold of dawn.
It was already 4 a.m. The wedding was over.
The celebration had ended - but something else had begun.
---
The Raizada mansion gleamed like a palace when the newlyweds arrived.
Soft morning light spilled across the marble floors, mingling with the golden glow of the diyas still burning from the night's celebration. The air was filled with fragrance - jasmine, incense, and the faint scent of sandalwood smoke from the wedding fire.
Anuradha stood at the entrance with Dadi and Dadu beside her, aarti thaal in hand. Her eyes glistened - half with pride, half with exhaustion.
As the couple stepped closer, Dadi's lips curved into a smile that carried generations of grace.
"Come home, both of you," she said softly, circling the thaal around them.
"This house was waiting for your footsteps."
The bride, still silent beneath her veil, touched Dadi's feet with trembling hands.
Sidharth bent too, bowing low, his face calm - too calm.
Anuradha's eyes softened at her eldest son.
He was every inch the dignified Raizada heir - composed, respectful, unshakable - yet there was a shadow in his eyes that only a mother could see.
The rituals of grihapravesh followed - the gentle push of the rice bowl, the soft imprint of the bride's feet on the floor, red as sindoor.
The housemaids whispered blessings, the elders smiled, and the family camera clicked, capturing a perfect moment - or what looked like one.
When it was done, Sidharth turned to Anuradha and said quietly, "I'll rest for a while, Mom. It's been a long night."
She nodded, understanding, her hand brushing his shoulder gently. "Go, beta. You need rest."
Without another word, he climbed the stairs, the echo of his footsteps fading into the still morning.
Aavyansh, leaning against a pillar, crossed his arms and smirked.
"Well, that was... fast. First wedding I've seen where the groom didn't even look at his bride's face once. And still, shaadi complete!"
Shaurya gave him a look - part warning, part brotherly restraint - but Aavyansh wasn't done.
"I bet he doesn't even know how beautiful Bhabhi is. If he'd just looked once, I swear he'd have forgotten that cheater by now."
"Enough, Aavyansh," Shaurya's voice cut through firmly, steady but quiet.
He took a step closer, lowering his tone so only his younger brother could hear.
"No need to talk about her. Bhai is married now. And one thing we all know - when it comes to family and relationships, Sidharth doesn't take anything lightly."
He paused, eyes flicking briefly toward the staircase where Sidharth had vanished.
"He'll learn to love Bhabhi. Maybe not today, but someday he will. Just... don't bring up the past again. And especially not in front of her."
Aavyansh shrugged, half-guilty, half-playful. "Alright, Captain Serious. I'll zip it. But still..."
He glanced toward the new bride who now stood quietly beside Dadi, her veil still hiding her face.
"There's a story in her silence too, Shaurya. Mark my words."
Shaurya didn't reply.
He simply looked up the stairs, a shadow of thought crossing his face - as if deep down, he already knew that the Raizada house was about to hold more secrets than it could bear.
Sidharth Raizada did not go to his room.
The rituals, the blessings, the noise - all of it had pressed too heavily upon him.
Instead, he found himself drawn to the terrace - the one place that always gave him clarity.
The cool breeze brushed against his face as he leaned over the railing, his sherwani's golden threads glinting faintly under the soft morning light.
From here, he could see the city stretching awake, its horizon painted in muted pinks and greys.
He closed his eyes, exhaling slowly.
Four years.
Four long years since that day.
And still, a part of him waited - foolishly, stubbornly - for an answer that would never come.
Downstairs, Anuradha led the bride through the long hallway toward Sidharth's room.
The young woman's steps were light, measured - her bridal anklets chiming faintly in the silence.
When she entered, her gaze lifted for the first time - the heavy veil slipping slightly as she looked around.
The room was elegant, masculine - the walls deep blue, the furniture polished to quiet perfection. There were no flowers, no welcome notes, no personal touches - only order and emptiness.
"Rest for a while, beta," Anuradha said gently, brushing her hand over the girl's head. "You've had a long night. I'll send someone with food later."
The bride only nodded, her eyes still moving slowly across the room, as if trying to understand the man she now belonged to.
Anuradha watched her for a moment longer, then quietly left, closing the door behind her.
Silence settled like a curtain.
---
Half an hour later, the terrace door creaked open.
Shaurya stepped in, his phone still in hand, Aavyansh right behind him - his voice low but relentless.
"Bhai, I'm telling you, it doesn't make sense! You found a random girl drunk in a bar and took her to the farmhouse? You don't even know who she is!"
Shaurya sighed, his tone measured. "Aavyansh, I wasn't saving a random girl. She was being harassed. The police were already there. She fainted before she could even speak. I couldn't leave her alone like that."
Aavyansh smirked, arms crossed. "Hmm... noble Raizada instincts at work again. But tell me honestly - you sure it was just about helping?"
Shaurya gave him a sharp look. "Yes. She was unconscious, and I did what any decent man would do. That's it. Nothing more."
Before Aavyansh could push further, Shaurya's gaze shifted - and he fell silent.
Up ahead, near the terrace railing, stood Sidharth.
Still in his wedding attire, the morning wind ruffling his hair, his profile carved in calm silence.
The brothers exchanged a glance.
Neither spoke for a long moment.
Then, Aavyansh murmured softly, "Even after everything, he looks like he's still searching for her..."
Shaurya's jaw tightened.
"Let him be," he said quietly. "Today isn't the day to reopen old wounds."
They both stood still, watching their elder brother
Sidharth's gaze had been lost somewhere in the horizon - until a faint murmur behind him broke the silence.
He didn't turn immediately; he didn't need to. The sound of those footsteps was too familiar.
"Still early for political debates, isn't it?" he said quietly, his voice steady but tired.
Shaurya and Aavyansh exchanged a look. Shaurya stepped forward first, his usual composure softening into brotherly concern.
"You should be resting, Bhai. The wedding night's barely over."
Sidharth turned at that, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips - a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"Rest?" he echoed faintly. "You know me better, Shaurya. Sleep and I have been strangers for years."
Aavyansh leaned against the railing beside him, trying to lighten the air.
"Well, if I'd married someone without even seeing her face, I'd be losing sleep too," he teased, his tone playful.
Sidharth's eyebrow arched, though his tone stayed calm. "Still talking too much, Aavyansh?"
"Always," Aavyansh grinned, undeterred. "But come on, Bhai, admit it-first wedding in Raizada history where the groom didn't even glance at his bride. You really had no clue of her beauty. I bet if you had, you'd have forgotten her by now."
The last word - her - slipped out before he could stop himself.
The air stilled.
Sidharth's eyes hardened for a brief second, and Aavyansh instantly regretted his words. But before he could say anything, Shaurya stepped in, his voice firm but gentle.
"Enough, Aavyansh," Shaurya said, his tone steady. "We don't speak about the past anymore. Not today. Not after everything Bhai's been through."
He turned slightly toward Sidharth, his expression softening. "Bhai's married now. And if there's one thing we all know-it's that when it comes to family, you never give half your heart. You'll give it all. Maybe not today, but someday, you'll move on. You'll love her. You always do what's right."
For a moment, silence wrapped around them again - only the wind whispering between the spaces of their words.
Sidharth looked from one brother to the other, the faintest smile touching his lips - a rare one, tinged with melancholy.
"You two haven't changed," he said quietly. "Still fighting over who gets to lecture me."
Aavyansh chuckled softly. "What can we say, Bhai? We're the backup moral committee."
That earned a faint laugh from Sidharth - brief, but real. He placed a hand on each of their shoulders.
"Don't worry," he said, his tone calm, distant yet reassuring. "Whatever's written will unfold in its time. For now, let's just... let this day be."
The brothers stood side by side, silent again - three shadows outlined against the dawn.
The sky blushed brighter, and somewhere below, a new bride sat in a room filled with unfamiliar silence, while above her, her husband stared at a horizon that refused to let him forget.
The terrace wind had quieted behind him.
With a long breath, Sidharth Raizada turned away from the dawn and finally walked back toward his room. The corridors of Raizada Mansion were calm again - the fragrance of incense still clinging to the air, mingled with traces of fresh flowers scattered after the rituals.
His footsteps echoed softly on the marble floor until he reached his door. He paused for a moment - as if steadying himself - and then pushed it open.
Inside, the room was dim, the curtains drawn against the brightening sky.
And there she was - the bride - sitting quietly on the edge of the bed, her hands clasped together, her veil still partly lowered, posture straight yet uncertain.
She looked up briefly when he entered but didn't speak.
The silence between them was thick - polite, unfamiliar, almost fragile.
Sidharth loosened the cuffs of his sherwani and spoke, his tone formal yet gentle.
"You should change into something comfortable," he said, walking toward the wardrobe.
The sound of his voice made her breath catch - sharp and sudden. Her fingers trembled against the edge of the dupatta.
He continued, not looking back yet, sorting through the neatly pressed kurtas inside the wardrobe. "It's been a long night. You must be tired. Rest for a while-"
He stopped.
Something-perhaps instinct-made him turn.
And in that single heartbeat, the world went still.
She had pulled back her veil.
The soft morning light slipped through the curtains and fell on her face - the face he hadn't seen in four long years, the face that haunted his nights, his silence, his anger, his waiting.
His breath froze.
Her eyes lifted, meeting his - trembling, uncertain, familiar.
And in a voice that broke through every wall he'd built around himself, she whispered-
"Sid..."