~Her smile, was the greatest lie she could ever tell, you'd never know, that she was walking through hell~

~~~

The morning sun crept in softly through the curtains, casting gentle light across the room, but Aaradhya felt no warmth from it. Her sleep had been fractured, her dreams jumbled. The reality of the day ahead pressed down on her like a weight she hadn’t learned to carry yet.

As she reached for her phone, the screen lit up with a single message — precise and expected.

Shivansh Rajvansh:
11 AM. Café, same one.
I’ll bring the papers. Don’t be late.

That was it.

No unnecessary words. Just clarity.

She sat up slowly, letting the message settle into her nerves. Today wasn’t just her engagement day — it was the day she’d sign away three years of her life in the name of duty. And for now, she was the only one who truly knew what that meant.

She freshened up quickly and slipped into a loose maroon top and soft black trousers — her comfort clothes. Her hair was tied in a simple but messy bun, her face bare of makeup. There was a certain freedom in dressing for herself, even just for a while.

As she walked down toward the dining area, soft voices floated up the hallway.

~

She entered quietly, only to find her parents, grandparents, Siya, and Aahan already at the table. Plates were being passed, cutlery clicked softly, but the moment she stepped in, Aditi’s eyes snapped up to her.

“You’re just coming down?” her mother said pointedly. “The engagement is today, not next week. The makeup and hair people will be here by 3. Don’t mess it up this time like you always do. You barely even looked presentable at the last family event.”

Aaradhya paused near the table, blinking once. The words didn’t surprise her, but they still stung.

Before she could even form a reply, Aahan set his glass down with a sharp clink.

“Seriously, Maa?” he said, voice firm. “She looks perfectly fine. It’s not a fashion show — it’s her engagement. Let her breathe.”

Aditi scoffed. “I’m just trying to make sure she doesn’t embarrass herself.”

Sarita, their grandmother, leaned forward with a frown. “That’s enough, Aditi. it's her engagement today. The least she deserves is kindness.”

“Yes,” added Suresh, her grandfather. “Everyone is so focused on the celebration, they’ve forgotten to care about the girl at the center of it.”

Aaradhya felt the familiar lump rise in her throat. She nodded quietly and whispered, “I’m not that hungry. I’ll eat later.”

Then, without meeting anyone’s gaze, she turned and walked back upstairs.

Back in her room, she changed into something simpler — a white top and light blue jeans, paired with small earrings and a denim jacket. She tied her hair in a low ponytail and grabbed her handbag, slipping the phone and other necessities inside. Her hands trembled, but her steps didn’t.

She left a short message with the house help, saying she was heading to a tailor for a last-minute fitting. With everyone caught up in decorations and venue prep, no one questioned her further.

~

Shivansh was already there when she arrived.

Same corner seat, same quiet posture. He wore a charcoal shirt and jeans, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a sleek black file rested beside his coffee cup. he was using his phone and when she came close to the table he noticed.

He looked up and gave a short nod as she approached.

“You came,” he said simply.

“You asked,” she replied, sitting down. “You said you'd bring the papers?”

He opened the file and slid them across the table. “One copy each.”

Aaradhya glanced at the contract. This version was fuller, carefully thought out, not rushed or transactional.

The Clauses:

1. Duration: This marriage will last for three years, beginning from the date of wedding registration.

2. Extension or Nullification: After three years, if either party wishes to continue, the contract becomes void and the marriage continues with mutual consent.

3. Termination Clause: If either party falls in love with someone else, or finds the current relationship emotionally unfulfilling, they can end the marriage without blame.

4. Confidentiality: No one, not even family, is to know about this contract. It must remain strictly between the two individuals involved.

5. Respect Clause: Both parties agree to treat each other with respect at all times, regardless of emotional proximity.

6. No Emotional Exploitation: Neither party is to take emotional advantage of the other or manipulate feelings.

7. Truth Clause: No lying — not about emotions, not about intentions. Silence is acceptable; lies are not.

8. Freedom Clause: Each person maintains their personal freedom and space.

9. No Interference: Family dynamics or misunderstandings should not be used as leverage against each other.

10. Final Clause: If love develops between them — real, mutual love — the contract will become invalid, and the marriage will proceed as a true union

Aaradhya’s fingers hovered over the page as she read. “You added… more than last time.”

“I thought about it,” Shivansh said, voice low. “I didn’t want it to be just about time. I wanted it to be fair.”

“Fair?” she echoed, almost bitterly.

He met her gaze. “You’re walking into a life you didn’t ask for. So am I. Fairness is the least we can offer each other.”

Something in her chest tightened. She nodded slowly.

“Everything seems so… logical,” she whispered.

“It has to be,” he replied. “Feelings just complicate things.”

“And if they happen?”

There was a pause — soft but sharp.

“Then we deal with them,” he said. “If you fall in love with me… or I with you… we talk. We decide. The contract will end.”

She signed the copy, and so did he. When they finished, they stared at the papers for a few seconds before tucking them into their files.

“Should we celebrate?” he asked dryly.

“Maybe after the engagement,” she said, and for the first time, a flicker of a smile touched her lips.

~~~

He watched her walk away through the glass — slender frame disappearing into the crowd, white top blending into the busy world outside. No one would guess she was a girl signing away her next three years over coffee.

Back in the car, Shivansh sat quietly, the file resting on his lap.

He had drafted that contract with logic. Precision. Distance.

But somewhere in clause 10, he had hesitated.

It wasn’t necessary. They were practical people. Broken people. Strangers bound by duty.

But he added it anyway.

Because some part of him — a small, buried part — believed that maybe, just maybe… silence could turn into understanding. And duty could turn into something warmer. Just like his family, his parents' marriage was also arranged, and he looks up to them in everything how his father loves his mother so deeply and expresses it fully but there is a small part of him that believes that the contract will not be needed after some months into the marriage

Love wasn’t the plan.
But if it came… he didn’t want to push it away.

Not this time.

~

When Aaradhya returned home, the household was a storm of florals, fabric, and fragrance. Stylists had arrived; cousins had begun pouring in. The house had transformed into a stage.

She avoided everyone, claiming she was tired — which, in truth, she was.

By 4 PM, she was seated in front of the mirror while the makeup artist worked quietly on her. Her eyes were hollow, her smile faint, her reflection unfamiliar.

Yet somewhere in her chest, something stirred — not joy, not sorrow. Just… anticipation.

~

The mansion was decorated beautifully; the halls filled with guests. The air smelled of fresh flowers, expensive perfume, and the lingering scent of power and wealth.

The room had fallen into a strange, golden silence.

After the stylists had fussed over her hair, pinned her jewelry perfectly, and adjusted every fold of her lehenga, they left with murmured compliments and soft clicks of the door behind them.

And now, Aaradhya sat alone in front of the mirror, staring—not at herself—but through the reflection.

The subtle shimmer of her pastel peach lehenga caught the light, the soft gold embroidery tracing patterns she barely noticed. Her hair was perfectly styled, her makeup flawless. To anyone else, she looked like a dream—like the bride-to-be every girl might envy.

But to her, it felt distant. Like she was watching someone else step into a life she wasn’t sure she deserved.

Her fingers clutched her dupatta softly as her throat tightened. The silence was too heavy, like it was echoing all the words she couldn’t say. The words she wanted to say, but never got the right to.

And just as her eyes welled up, there was a soft knock.

Not the kind of knock that demanded attention—but one that asked for permission.

She turned slightly, startled.

“Bhabhi…?”

A gentle voice followed—Vihaan’s.

Before she could respond, the door creaked open and in came Vihaan, Aarav, Abhir, Abhira and Avni peeking in with that same hopeful energy they carried since morning.

“Sorry… but we begged Dad to let us meet you,” Vihaan said sheepishly, his eyes scanning her face with concern. “It didn’t feel right, not meeting our bhabhi on such a big day.”

Aarav added gently, “We know everything’s overwhelming… but we just wanted a moment with you. Without the crowd. Without the noise.”

Aaradhya blinked, her eyes still watery, her heart confused by the sudden warmth. She opened her mouth, but no words came.

And Abhir, noticing that hesitation, stepped in slowly. “We won’t take long. Just five minutes. Pinky promise.”

That made Abhira giggle softly. She walked in and knelt beside Aaradhya, adjusting the edge of her dupatta as if they had always known each other.

“You look so, so beautiful bhabhi,” she whispered, then paused, smiling up at her, “like the chapter of a novel I’d never want to end.”

That caught Aaradhya off-guard.

Avni grinned as she walked up behind Aaradhya and gently rested her hands on her shoulders. "Honestly? You’re glowing. Shivansh will lose all ability to speak when he sees you. Even more than usual—which says a lot."

A small smile tugged at her lips—a real one. The kind she hadn’t shown since morning. Maybe even longer.

Vihaan grinned, held out a chocolate bar like a knight presenting a sword.

“Emergency gift for nervous bhabhi. Family tradition. You’ve officially passed the sibling test now.”

Aaradhya gave a light chuckle. It was soft, barely there—but it made the room feel alive again.

“Thank you,” she said in a low voice, her eyes meeting theirs, one by one.

Not many words. But just enough.

"And we’re here for you," Vihaan added. "Always. Whether you want to talk or not talk at all."

"Especially the not-talking part," Abhir added with a wink. "We’re fluent in silence too."

The room filled with a quiet that wasn’t empty—but comforting.

Aaradhya, still not one for many words, gave a slight nod, her lips curving into the faintest smile. And in that moment, they didn’t need more. They understood her. They respected her silence. They saw her.

As they turned to leave and let her rest before the ceremony, Avni turned back one last time, walked to Aaradhya, and gently kissed her forehead.

"You’re not alone, Aaru. You’ve got us. Always."

And with that, they left her room with lighter steps and hearts warmer than they’d been all day.

Aaradhya sat there, holding the little chocolate bar and blinking back tears—not of pain this time… but of quiet hope.

It came from acceptance. From siblings who didn’t ask her to speak more than she could. Who saw her when she wanted to hide.

And for the first time that day, Aaradhya didn’t feel like a puppet in an expensive outfit.

She felt like someone’s bhabhi. Like maybe, just maybe… this family could be hers.

~

Aaradhya's gaze met his for a brief second before she quickly looked away. He was dressed in a white suit matching her, his posture relaxed, intimidating yet comforting. His presence alone sent a shiver down her spine—not out of fear, but because he was unlike anyone she had met before.

His eyes weren't filled with mockery or amusement like others'. They weren't cruel.

But they weren't warm either.

As her parents welcomed the guests, Shivansh's mother, Meera, approached Aaradhya with a gentle smile.

"You look lovely, dear."

Aaradhya nodded politely, offering the smallest smile in return. everyone complemented her, but she was hesitant to believe them all.

~

The ceremony was grand. Rings were exchanged, blessings were given, and the hall echoed with laughter and joy. But inside, Aaradhya felt nothing.

Her family celebrated as if they had won some victory. Aditi and Suraj wore expressions of triumph, while Siya's smirk remained ever-present.

Yet, amidst the suffocation, there was one thing she noticed—Shivansh's family was different.

His mother, Meera, held her hands gently, whispering words of comfort.

His father, Vardaan, spoke to her with warmth, treating her like a daughter rather than a transaction.

Even his siblings and cousins engaged with her in genuine conversations, making her feel... included.

It was foreign. Strange.

And terrifying.

Because if they were truly this kind—truly this different—then maybe, just maybe... she wasn't prepared for what was coming next.

The wedding was now inevitable.

And the real battle had just begun.

It is just a matter of three years and then she will be free, was what she thought before sliding down the ring in his finger but what she didn't know was a roller-coaster of emotions is yet to arrive in her life.

---