~The fire in her eyes spoke of a story that she'd never tell~

The walls of the Rathore mansion were silent, heavy with an unspoken coldness. The chandelier above glittered like a frozen crown — grand, but lifeless. In the corner of the living room, Aaradhya stood with her voice still caught in her throat. it's been almost two days since the Rajvansh family came to meet her. and soon after the upcoming three days is her engagement.

She’d been standing there for almost five minutes, waiting for the right moment. But there was never a right moment in this house — only less cruel ones.

Suraj Rathore sat on the couch, flicking through a business magazine like her presence was barely worth acknowledging. Aditi, poised and cold as always, sipped her evening tea, her gaze occasionally flickering toward her daughter with a mixture of suspicion and contempt.

When Aaradhya finally spoke, her voice was almost too little to hear.

"I want to meet him."

Aditi’s hand froze mid-air. The teacup hovered between her lips. Suraj slowly lowered the magazine, raising one brow as if he’d heard something ridiculous.

"What did you say?" he asked, his tone clipped.

Aaradhya didn’t cower down, her voice grew firmer with the same intensity.

"Shivansh. I said I want to meet him. Alone. Before the marriage."

The silence that followed was sharp enough to cut glass.

Aditi’s lips pressed into a thin line. "Why now?" she asked coldly. "You’ve been silent all this while. Suddenly you want to play the bride and question"

"No," Aaradhya said steadily. "I just want to talk to him. Once."

Suraj scoffed. "You think you have the right to make demands now? You’re lucky we found someone like him to tolerate you. And now you want a meeting?"

Aditi’s voice was lower, but crueler. "Are you having second thoughts? Trying to back out like a coward? Again?"

Aaradhya looked up slowly. Her eyes were not angry — they were quiet. Quiet in the way water is still before a storm.

"No. I’ll marry him," she said, each word like a quiet cut. "But I want to speak to him. Just once. Not as your daughter. But as the girl who’s about to spend her life with someone she barely knows."

It wasn’t defiance. It wasn’t rebellion. It was something rarer — a plea dressed in dignity.

Suraj stood up abruptly, the magazine crumpling in his fist.

"And what if he says he doesn’t want to marry you after meeting you, huh? You want to embarrass this family?"

Aaradhya's voice didn’t waver.

"Then maybe it should end before it begins with lies."

Aditi glared at her, the fury simmering behind her calm façade. But before she could say anything crueler, Suraj spoke again — gruff, annoyed, but conceding.

"Fine. You want to meet him, we’ll arrange it. But it will be in public. In a decent place. And no drama, Aaradhya. Do you understand?"

She nodded.

"Yes, papa."

Aditi gave a sarcastic smile. "Let’s hope you don’t ruin this last chance we gave you."

Aaradhya didn’t respond.

But something in her chest — long caged and quiet — stirred for the first time. Not hope. Not courage.

Just the faintest whisper of wanting to be seen.

~~~

The little café wasn’t too crowded — just the way Aaradhya preferred. Tucked away on a quiet street corner, with rustic lights and soft instrumental music playing in the background, it almost felt like a pause from reality. But her heart was far from calm.

She sat at a table near the window, watching the steam swirl from her untouched cup of coffee. Dressed in a lavender Anarkali with silver jewelry, her dupatta clutched between her fingers, she looked like a porcelain doll holding herself together.

She glanced at the entrance for what felt like the hundredth time — and then he walked in.

Shivansh Rajvansh.

Tall. Sharp-jawed. Calm eyes that had seen more than they let on. He looked composed, almost too composed. His expression didn’t flicker as he spotted her and made his way toward the table.

"Sorry I couldn’t come to your house," he said, sliding into the seat across from her. "There was a last-minute important meeting"

She nodded politely, not commenting on the excuse.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet."

"You asked for it. It seemed fair," he replied.

A beat of silence. The air between them was heavy — not awkward, but unfamiliar. Two strangers with shared fates but no shared path.

She looked up at him finally. "Can I ask you something?"

He met her gaze. "Of course."

"Why did you agree to get married?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper — but the question hit like a thunderclap.

He leaned back in his chair, surprised not by the question but by the clarity with which she asked it.

"Because it’s what my family wants," he replied honestly. "My grandfather thinks it’s time. My mother believes I need someone. The family likes you. That’s enough reason, I guess." He replied, thinking of the moments his family wouldn't shut up about how good she is and wouldn't stop praising her. Even his siblings who haven't met her yet are curious to see her.

She nodded, not surprised. But it still made her heart ache a little — how easily he admitted this wasn’t his choice either.

"Then why not say no?" she asked quietly. "Why agree to something you don’t want?"

He exhaled. "Because it makes them happy. And… I didn’t have a reason to refuse either."

She lowered her eyes, her words quiet and blunt.

"Then let’s forget it."

His gaze sharpened. "You want to back out?"

She shook her head slowly. "I never wanted it. But I wasn’t given a choice. And if you feel the same, maybe walking away now is better than regretting later."

Shivansh didn’t speak for a moment. Then, he folded his arms on the table and leaned in, voice serious.

"What if we don’t walk away… but we do this our way?"

Aaradhya frowned slightly. "What do you mean?"

"A contract marriage," he said, the words falling into the silence like a pebble into still water. "Three years. No obligations beyond respect and appearances. At the end of it, if either of us wants out — we end it. Peacefully."

Aaradhya’s brows furrowed. "Why three years?"

"Because that’s what they want. They expect stability. Appearances. And I’m willing to play along for them… but only that long. Unless—"

He paused.

"Unless what?" she asked.

He met her eyes — steady, unreadable.

"Unless one of us falls in love."

The words hung between them.

"If that happens… if either of us wants to stay beyond three years, the contract becomes void. We work it out like a real marriage. But until then, no pressure. No expectations."

Aaradhya stared at him. Her heart was a storm beneath her calm surface.

"And if one of us falls in love, but the other doesn’t?"

He gave a faint, almost sad smile.

"Then we decide. Together. If the other person wants to try… we stay. If not, we end it with honesty."

She looked away, the ache in her chest strangely sharp.

"This doesn’t sound like a marriage," she whispered.

"Maybe not. But it’s more honest than pretending we’re something we’re not," he said.

There was silence again. And then she asked one final question.

"What happens if… neither of us wants to leave after three years?"

He looked straight into her eyes.

"Then we don’t leave. We stay. But we stay because we choose to. Not because we were forced into it."

She sat there, motionless, her expression unreadable. And then, she slowly nodded.

"Alright. A contract it is."

"Well then, we'll sign it on the day of the engagement as it is at night. Meet me at the same cafe we are in now in the morning." he said and then they exchanged numbers.

Neither of them smiled. But somewhere — quietly, unknowingly — the weight in both their hearts shifted. Just a little.

~

Later that night ~

He sat in his room, the lights dim, a pen twirling between his fingers as he stared at the ceiling. Everyone in the house thought he was finally on board. That the marriage was happening.

They had no idea.

A contract marriage. That was what he proposed.

But the part he couldn’t stop thinking about… the part he didn’t even understand himself… was the clause he added without hesitation.

"If one of us falls in love."

Why had he said that?

Why hadn’t he stopped himself?

He didn’t believe in love — not the kind that could bloom in a forced arrangement. He’d always been practical. Calculated.

So why… why did he leave that door open?

He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated.

Maybe it was something about her.

That quiet strength in her voice. Her eyes spoke something deep, something he couldn't understand. That tired grace in her silence. She wasn’t trying to impress him. She didn’t even want this marriage. But she was still… dignified. Still brave enough to ask for clarity when no one else cared about her voice.

And maybe, somewhere deep down… a part of him didn’t want to close the door completely.

Maybe… he was curious.

Curious if a girl like Aaradhya could ever make him believe in something real — not perfect, not magical, just honest.

And if she did…

What then?

He exhaled deeply, staring at the ceiling.

"This isn’t supposed to get complicated" he whispered to himself.

But it already had.

~~~