Anita pointed towards an evening gown displayed on the mannequin whose fabric was shimmering under the store lights. "I'd like to try that. If it fits, I'll wear it for the engagement," she said excitedly.

"Why wouldn't it?" a confident voice interrupted from behind, startling both her and Divya.

They turned and saw a striking woman walking towards them. She was dressed exquisitely in a flowing, deep burgundy gown that was tailored to perfection.

Her poise and elegance were impossible to ignore.

As she approached, she waved her hand lightly in greeting with an effortless smile.

"Anita, right?" she said, pointing towards her with a knowing grin.

Anita exchanged a puzzled glance with Divya before nodding cautiously. "Yes... And you are?"

The woman's smile widened and she stepped closer. "Your soon-to-be sister-in-law." Without warning, she pulled her into a hug.

Caught off guard, Anita let out a small yelp and her arms awkwardly suspended in the air.

The woman pulled away just as quickly, her expression bright with joy.

"I'm so sorry," Anita stammered, "I didn't recognize you."

"Well, now you do," she said with a laugh, "Let's continue. Carry on. Try the dress."

••••

They returned home later in the evening.

Priya—Akash's sister drove them back in his car while he followed his friends.

Anita's mother and sisters left shortly after they returned, but Divya stayed behind at Anita's insistence to help her prepare for the next day.

As the three women rested in Anita's room, sorting through their purchases, Priya stretched her arms and leaned against the headboard. "Why don't we have dinner in the garden?" she suggested casually. "It's such a beautiful evening. It'll give us all a chance to relax and get to know each other better."

Divya perked up immediately. "That sounds like a great idea! It'll be fun." She turned to Anita. "What do you think?"

She smiled. "Sure, why not? It'll be nice."

With that, they made their way to the garden.

The men were already there.

Akash sat amidst his friends.

A cigarette was loosely held between his fingers.

He took a slow drag and exhaled a thin plume of smoke into the air while he listened to the banter around him.

They were scattered around the long table, some smoking cigarettes while others sipped wine, laughing and chatting.

Priya's voice rang out, cheerful and lively. "We're joining your dinner, men!" she called as she strode towards the table with Anita and Divya following close behind.

His eyes lifted at the sound of her voice, but they froze when they landed on Anita.

She was walking beside Priya.

He quickly stubbed the cigarette out against the arm of his chair, flicking it into a nearby ashtray.

He didn't want her to have any bad impression of him, not when he was already treading on thin ice with her.

She noticed the curl of smoke in the air but didn't comment as her attention was immediately drawn to Priya's cheerful voice as she spoke.

"Make some space for us!" she replied and pulled out a chair.

They joined the group at the table.

"Well, what kind of party is this?" Priya asked, her gaze turning to Akash, who glanced at Anita who  was already staring at him.

"Shouldn't you be resting? Tomorrow is going to be a long day for you all," he replied while looking at her.

"Same for you. It's not just Anita getting engaged, you know," Priya replied.

Raghav's attention, however, was elsewhere.

His eyes drifted to Divya.

When she felt someone's eyes on her, she turned her head sharply and caught him staring.

"What?" she asked bluntly.

He smiled. "Anita, you haven't introduced us to your friend. What is her name?"

Before Anita could speak, she cut in. "Her friend is sitting right here, with a mouth that works perfectly fine. If there's anything you wish to know, ask directly."

He leaned back, entertained. "Fair enough, though I've asked. But let's do it again. What's your name?"

She arched an eyebrow, "If you don't know my name by now, then maybe you don't need to know it at all."

His smile deepened, and his eyes gleamed with amusement. "You're feisty. I really like that."

She tightened her eyes at him while leaning forward. "Is there some kind of joy you get out of irritating people, or is this just your default personality?"

He shrugged and took a slow sip of his drink, before answering. "Only when the person is worth irritating. You make it very fun."

She let out an abrupt laugh and leaned back in her chair. "Oh, I see. You're one of those people who think being annoying is charming. Spoiler alert—it's not."

"And you're one of those people who think being hot-headed makes you scary. Spoiler alert—it doesn't," he answered.

Her jaw tightened and she glared at him. "Hot-headed? That's rich coming from someone who can't handle a simple conversation."

He set his glass down and rested his elbow on the table while his chin on his hand as he studied her. "You have a way with words."

"And you have a way of testing my patience," she snapped.

"Really? I thought I was improving it," he said with a smirk.

Anita stifled a laugh, whispering to Priya. "They're like fire and gasoline."

Priya grinned. "But it's very entertaining."

Divya ignored them, and instead, leaned closer to Raghav. "Listen, Mr. Raghav, I don't have the time or energy to deal with whatever weird hobby this is for you. Why don't you go find someone else to bother?"

He held her gaze. "I've already found you."

She groaned, throwing her hands up in exasperation. "Why me? Out of all the people here, why are you so focused on me?"

"Because you're different," he said simply.

"Alright, you two," Priya cut in, interrupting Divya's reply. "Save some of this energy for the engagement. It's getting late."

Divya tore her gaze away from him, and stood up abruptly. "You're right. I've had enough of this nonsense for one night. I'm eating inside."

As she walked away, his eyes followed her and a small, thoughtful smile appeared on his lips.

****

Akash froze for a moment in the doorway when he saw Anita sitting calmly on his bed.

He stepped inside and shut the door behind him.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his tone wary. "Mother has already told us—"

She interrupted. "I have decency, Akash. What do you think of me? I'd never cross any lines like that."

His gaze stayed on her, skeptical but curious. "Then why are you here?"

"To talk," she replied. "Before we start this life together, I thought we should have an honest conversation."

He sighed, then moved towards the bed, sitting a few inches away from her. "Alright, what do you want to talk about?"

"First, your secretary. She sent you the minutes, right? I'm certain it was perfect."

"I still found faults in it," he said bluntly, his expression neutral.

She shrugged. "But she got it done. That's what matters. She didn't let me down, and I'm glad about that."

He leaned back, his gaze not breaking with hers. "Somehow, I don't think you came here to talk about my secretary's performance."

"You're right," she admitted, her voice softening. "I'm craving samosas."

He froze, staring at her in disbelief. "Seriously?"

She nodded with an innocent smile. "What? You thought I'd come here to apologize again? I've decided I've apologized enough. If you want to forgive me, you will. If you don't, well, I might rethink getting married to you again. But in the meantime, get me some samosas, please."

He blinked, speechless. "Did you by any chance have a sip of the wine at the garden or something? Are you okay?"

Her stare turned into a glare. "What do you take me for? I don't drink. But you do. Don't you? And you smoke too?"

He remained quiet for some seconds, then shook his head. "I quit drinking years ago."

"And smoking?"

He exhaled slowly, glancing away before admitting, "Once in a while. But I promise you'll never catch me doing it in your presence."

She smiled broadly. "Why? Because you care about what I think? Or because you love me?"

He didn't reply immediately as his gaze shifted back to her. "What do you think?"

Her smile widened. "I think I want those samosas first. Then we will continue talking."

He chuckled, but regardless, stood up and made his way towards the door and her laughter trailed behind.

****

He returned a short while later, holding a small paper bag.

He stopped at the doorway, watching her as she sat cross-legged on his bed, staring out the window.

"You know," he began, breaking the silence, "there's no samosas stand nearby. I had to drive halfway across the city for this."

She turned to him and her face lighted up when she spotted the bag. "My hero. Thank you." she replied,

He gave her the bag, and she opened it immediately while returning onto his bed.

She took a bite of the samosa, her lips parting as the crispy shell crumbled, releasing a burst of warm, spiced aroma that teased her senses.

She closed her eyes, her face softening into an expression of pure bliss.

A moan escaped from her lips, before she glanced at him with a wide smile. "You know," she began, "back in the days when I was still a teenager, I loved samosas so much. I'd watch Father giving them out to my siblings as rewards when they excelled in their school results. I never got the chance to excel because he removed me from school. I craved them so badly, but I never got to eat them." Her voice faltered, and she looked away, the memory leaving a gloom in her eyes.

He clenched his fists, his knuckles whitening while his jaw tightened.

He sat down on the edge of the bed beside her and the mattress dipped under him.

"You will eat everything you were denied in this life," he said, his eyes locking onto hers. "Just tell me, and it will be brought to you. Whatever it is."

She let out a long, trembling exhale with her lips curling into a bittersweet chuckle. "The man just had a problem with me because I'm dark and ugly," she murmured, her gaze dropping to her lap.

His hand reached out at her and gently tilted her chin so her eyes met his.

There was fire in his gaze as he spoke. "I'll say it again," he said firmly, "you are my light. And without a doubt, the most beautiful creation my eyes have ever landed on."

Her cheeks flushed, and a shy smile crept onto her lips. "Thank you," she whispered, "But don't assume I'm weak. Even when I fainted in the hospital, it wasn't because of what you told me." She shivered slightly, rubbing her arms. "Can you close the windows? It's so cold."

He nodded without hesitation, springing to his feet with a quick motion.

The cold breeze flitted through the room, but he shut the windows and the curtains swayed as he did.

Turning back to her, his expression softened as he saw her pulling the blanket on herself.

"Anything else?" he asked because her comfort was his only priority at the moment.

"Where was I? Oh, yes, we were talking about my past," she said. However, she waved her hand dismissively and continued, "Enough of that, though. Let's focus on the present now."

He returned to the bed and sat down, then cleared his throat and started. "Priya was my past," he said hesitantly. His tone eased as he added, "She was an actress—"

"I don't want to know," she interrupted quickly.

"Please," he said, cutting her off. "Let me explain. Let me tell my side of the story. Like adults, let's talk it out."

Her lips pressed together in a thin line, but then she gave a small nod, but her hands gripped the hem of her dress tightly.

"We met in her director's office," he whispered. "He was a childhood friend of mine, and they were planning a new movie. At first, I didn't even want to be in a relationship. She made all the moves. Visiting me frequently, calling me at odd hours, bringing me lunch at work."

He paused, glancing at her.

She had bowed her head and her fingers had curled into fists on her lap while sadness had replaced the colour of her face.

He softened his tone, leaning closer. "Eventually, I accepted her, but... after the scandal she created, I cut all ties with her. I swear to you, Anita, she's just a thing of the past now."

He reached out and gently took her hand in his.

His thumb brushed against her knuckles and she looked up.

She nodded, forcing a small smile onto her lips.

"I wouldn't describe our relationship as fake," he continued, "But, truthfully, I never truly loved her. This isn't to paint myself in a better light. I've had many relationships in the past, and I won't hide from you that there were some I loved. But none received as much love as I have for you."

A blush plodded across her cheeks, and she smiled.

"We were intimate, yes," he continued, his gaze never leaving hers. "Not once, in fact not twice. But while we were together, I always told her I hated how she publicized every detail about our relationship. I'd dated others before, and none of them did what she did. I didn't want so much attention on me because I'm a businessman; I have an image to maintain. We would always argue about that."

He paused for a breath. "One day, I found out she cheated on me with her co-star. I wanted to leave her, but she lied, claiming she was pregnant to pressure me into marriage and improve her societal image. News spread quickly. She was already a famous actress, so it didn't take long for the news to reach everyone. She fabricated stories that I had sent her money to leave, start a new life, and abort the child that never even existed. I was upset, I was angry. But I didn't react. Friends and family kept calling, asking about the incident. Her fans sided with her, calling me names, saying the only way to correct my mistake was to marry her. Still, I didn't respond."

He sighed deeply, "My friend who is a renowned director in Bollywood, knew I could never do what she accused me of. He ensured she was no longer given any film roles. Fast forward, her financial condition worsened because no one was willing to offer her work, both inside and outside of Bollywood. One day, she came to my office seeking an appointment. At first, I didn't want to meet her; there was nothing left for us to discuss. I had blocked her number, so she couldn't contact me by phone. But one day, when she visited the office again, she was lucky—I was on my way to an event. She begged for forgiveness for what she did and said she needed money to sustain her family."

He stared at her, his eyes pleading for understanding.

"Anita, I need you to know that my past with her is over. My feelings for you are genuine, and I want us to build a future together, leaving all this behind."

She reached out, placing her hand over his. "You helped her, though, right?"

He nodded. "I did. That's why she apologized publicly. She felt guilty. I was saddened that you didn't give me a chance to explain myself. You might not have been my first love or my first relationship, but I want you to be my last. There are loves that surpass a first love when they come from the right person. That's how I feel about you."

Her eyes softened, and she squeezed his hand gently.

He smiled. "Well, it's getting late. Go to sleep."

"Before I go, we're okay again, right? Best friends?" she asked.

He motioned towards the door. "Go, before Mother appears. She wouldn't like seeing you here."

She sighed, but nodded.

Rising to her feet, she began walking toward the door.

His voice stopped her mid-step. "You ruined my birthday," he said quietly. "I was upset the entire day because of what you told me. I still haven't forgotten. But if you give me one gift, I'll let it go. We'll start over again."

She turned back to him with a wide grin. He stood and slowly approached her.

"Anything," she said earnestly. "What do you want?"

He chuckled softly. "I doubt you can give it."

"Why not? Is it something expensive?" she asked and he nodded.

A frown creased her brow. After a moment, she nodded firmly. "Nevermind. Tell me. I'll figure it out. I'll do whatever it takes for us to go back to how we were."

"Are you sure? It is very expensive." he asked, stepping closer, his eyes searching hers.

His hands slowly circled her waist, drawing her nearer.

The warmth of his touch sent a shiver racing down her spine.

She tried to step back, her voice stammering as she mumbled, "I... I'm sure." she mumbled uncertainly, while he refused to let her go.

"I want a kiss," he said softly. "One kiss, and I'll forget everything that's happened. I promise."

Her cheeks flushed further and she immediately lowered her gaze, her fingers fidgeting with the fabric of her dress. "How can...after marri..." she stammered.

His grip tightened slightly and he leaned closer, his voice dropping into a low whisper. "We are already married. Just because Mother wants us to marry again doesn't mean our first marriage doesn't count. There's nothing standing in our way anymore."

She shook her head, her breath hitching. "I can't," she whispered, her voice trembling with nervousness. "Didn't you say you'd never touch me?"

His lips twitched in amusement. "Oh really? Do you not want me to touch you?"

Her eyes widened, and she shook her head frantically. "No! That's not what I meant."

She closed her eyes tightly while her hands pressed lightly against his chest. "I just... I can't. Not tonight. Please, don't ask me why."

He sighed heavily and his hands loosened their hold.

He stepped back, and muttered. "I really wonder how we're going to handle our wedding night. You can't even give me a simple kiss. How do you plan to do everything else?"

Her face turned an even deeper shade of red and she quickly turned away, "Are we... good again?"

He smiled. "I asked for the one thing that could make me forget everything, and you didn't give it. So, unfortunately... we're not."

Her head snapped around, her expression filled with apology. "Not today," she said hurriedly. "But I promise... some other time. I swear."

He studied her for a long moment before nodding, "When will this 'some other time' be? Tomorrow morning? Tomorrow afternoon, or night?"

She fidgeted nervously, her fingers clenching and unclenching. "I... I don't know." she stammered, refusing to meet his gaze.

He tilted his head, studying her like a puzzle he was determined to solve. "You're avoiding me," he said softly. "Why? Are you afraid of me? Or is it something else?"

Her heart skipped a beat at the question, and she turned away, wrapping her arms around herself. "It's not that," she said quietly. "I'm just not ready yet."

He sighed, but forced a smile, "Go to bed. We'll meet tomorrow."

She nodded and responded with a grateful smile before walking out of the room.