The wedding day arrived sooner than Meera had anticipated. It felt like just yesterday that she had met Aarav at the café, exchanging cautious words and guarded smiles. And now, here she was, sitting in front of the mirror, dressed in a stunning red and gold bridal lehenga, while her mother adjusted the heavy dupatta on her head.

"You look beautiful, beta," her mother whispered, eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Meera swallowed the lump in her throat. She should have been happy, excited even. Weddings were supposed to be the happiest day in a girl’s life, weren’t they? But all she felt was a strange mix of nervousness and uncertainty.

She glanced at herself in the mirror. The intricate embroidery on her outfit shimmered under the soft light, the jewelry felt heavier than usual, and the dark kohl lining her eyes made them look deeper, more intense. Yet, she hardly recognized herself.

A part of her still couldn’t believe this was happening. She was getting married—to a man she barely knew.

"Are you ready?" her best friend, Nisha, asked, stepping into the room.

Meera met her gaze in the mirror. "I don’t know, Nishu. Everything feels so surreal."

Nisha squeezed her shoulder. "It’s normal to feel this way. But you’ll be fine. Aarav seems like a good guy."

Meera nodded, though she wasn’t sure if that was enough to reassure her.

A knock on the door interrupted their conversation. It was her father. His usual stern expression was softened with emotion. "It’s time, Meera."

Taking a deep breath, Meera stood up. This was it. There was no turning back now.

---

The wedding venue was grand, exactly how one would expect an elite Malhotra family wedding to be. The sprawling garden was decorated with cascading flowers, shimmering fairy lights, and golden drapes. Hundreds of guests, dressed in their finest attire, were gathered to witness the grand occasion.

Meera walked down the aisle with her father, the sound of wedding bells and traditional music filling the air. Her heart pounded in her chest as she approached the mandap, where Aarav stood, waiting.

He looked effortlessly handsome in his ivory sherwani, his expression composed as ever. Unlike her, he didn’t seem nervous at all. His eyes met hers briefly, and though he didn’t say anything, there was a certain gentleness in his gaze.

The wedding rituals began. The priest chanted the mantras, their families watched with smiles, and yet, Meera felt like she was merely going through the motions. She stole a glance at Aarav. Did he feel the same way?

As they exchanged garlands, applause erupted from the crowd. Aarav leaned in slightly and whispered, "Are you okay?"

Meera hesitated before nodding. "Are you?"

Aarav’s lips curved into a small, almost amused smile. "I guess we’ll find out soon enough."

The pheras followed, and with each step around the sacred fire, reality began to settle in. Meera felt her heart grow heavier. This was it. She was now bound to Aarav—by tradition, by duty, by fate.

When it was time for the sindoor, Aarav took a pinch of vermillion and gently applied it to her forehead. The weight of that moment struck her harder than she had expected. With that simple act, she was now his wife.

Finally, the mangalsutra was placed around her neck, its cool metal against her skin making her shiver.

"Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Malhotra," the priest announced, and the crowd erupted in cheers.

Meera forced a smile. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to feel—happiness, relief, or fear. Perhaps a mix of all three.

---

The wedding reception was just as extravagant. Meera barely had time to breathe between greeting guests, posing for endless pictures, and responding to the occasional teasing from relatives. Aarav, ever the composed businessman, handled it all with practiced ease.

"Smile a little," Aarav murmured as yet another guest approached them.

Meera glanced at him. "I’m trying."

Aarav chuckled under his breath. "It’s going to be a long night."

And it was. Hours passed in a blur of laughter, clinking glasses, and over-the-top compliments. By the time it was over, Meera was exhausted.

---

The vidaai was the hardest part.

Her mother clung to her, sobbing, while her father stood silently, his eyes filled with pride and sorrow. Meera tried to hold back her own tears, but when she hugged Nisha, she couldn’t stop them from falling.

"Call me as soon as you get there," Nisha whispered, squeezing her hand.

Meera nodded. "I will."

Aarav stood a few steps away, watching the emotional scene with a quiet patience. When it was time to leave, he stepped forward and gently placed a hand on her back, guiding her towards the car.

Meera turned one last time to see her family, and as the car door shut behind her, she felt the reality of her new life finally sinking in.

She was no longer Meera Sharma. She was now Meera Malhotra.