short tales - Chapter 15: Chapter 15
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The Wedding Day
Dressed in a deep red lehenga, Avni sat on the mandap, her hands trembling in her lap. The sacred fire crackled before her, the priest chanting holy mantras.
But Dev hadn't spoken to her since last night.
He had read her message. He knew everything. But he hadn’t said a single word.
Her heart ached with uncertainty. Had he changed his mind?
As the rituals proceeded, she stole glances at him. He looked different today—quieter, distant, as if something weighed heavily on him.
When it was time for the sindoor, he finally met her eyes. His gaze held something deep, something unreadable. But there was no hesitation.
As he filled her hairline with vermillion, his fingers brushed against her skin—warm, steady, certain.
And in that moment, something inside her shattered.
He was still here.
He hadn't run away.
She wasn’t alone.
Tears welled in her eyes as he tied the mangalsutra around her neck, sealing their bond forever.
And for the first time in a long time, she allowed herself to believe.
Maybe love didn’t always have to hurt.
The Wedding Night
As the night settled and the echoes of wedding rituals faded, the weight of the day lingered between them. She stood near the window, her red bridal lehenga still draped around her like a memory of the vows they had taken just hours ago. But in her heart, a storm raged—his silence after reading her message, his distant gaze during the wedding. Had she lost him before even beginning their journey together?
She felt him behind her before she heard him. His warmth, his presence. And then, his voice—soft, raw, filled with an emotion she couldn’t yet name.
"I read everything you wrote," he murmured.
Her breath hitched. She turned slightly, but he didn’t let her go too far. His hands, strong yet gentle, rested on her shoulders.
"I needed time," he admitted. "Not because I had doubts, but because I was overwhelmed… overwhelmed by the pain you’ve carried alone all these years. And knowing that you still found the courage to love me, to trust me, makes me love you even more."
Tears welled in her eyes. "You… you don’t see me differently?"
His fingers tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze—dark, intense, filled with something far deeper than just desire. "I see you as mine. And nothing, nothing, will ever change that."
The words shattered the last of her fears, and she melted into him as he pulled her close. His lips found hers—slow at first, reverent, as if reassuring her that he was here, that he wasn’t going anywhere. But as she responded, something shifted. The emotions they had held back, the longing, the unspoken promises, all came rushing forward.
His hands moved over the delicate embroidery of her dupatta, slipping it from her head, letting it fall like a whisper to the floor. She shivered—not from the cold, but from the way his touch lingered against her skin, tracing a path from her shoulder to her wrist, where his thumb brushed the fresh sindoor at her hairline.
"You are my wife now," he whispered against her temple. "And I will spend the rest of my life making sure you never feel alone again."
Her heart pounded as he lifted her in his arms, carrying her to the bed covered in fresh rose petals. As he laid her down, hovering over her, she saw it in his eyes—not just desire, but devotion, love, the promise of a lifetime together.
Dressed in a deep red lehenga, Avni sat on the mandap, her hands trembling in her lap. The sacred fire crackled before her, the priest chanting holy mantras.
But Dev hadn't spoken to her since last night.
He had read her message. He knew everything. But he hadn’t said a single word.
Her heart ached with uncertainty. Had he changed his mind?
As the rituals proceeded, she stole glances at him. He looked different today—quieter, distant, as if something weighed heavily on him.
When it was time for the sindoor, he finally met her eyes. His gaze held something deep, something unreadable. But there was no hesitation.
As he filled her hairline with vermillion, his fingers brushed against her skin—warm, steady, certain.
And in that moment, something inside her shattered.
He was still here.
He hadn't run away.
She wasn’t alone.
Tears welled in her eyes as he tied the mangalsutra around her neck, sealing their bond forever.
And for the first time in a long time, she allowed herself to believe.
Maybe love didn’t always have to hurt.
The Wedding Night
As the night settled and the echoes of wedding rituals faded, the weight of the day lingered between them. She stood near the window, her red bridal lehenga still draped around her like a memory of the vows they had taken just hours ago. But in her heart, a storm raged—his silence after reading her message, his distant gaze during the wedding. Had she lost him before even beginning their journey together?
She felt him behind her before she heard him. His warmth, his presence. And then, his voice—soft, raw, filled with an emotion she couldn’t yet name.
"I read everything you wrote," he murmured.
Her breath hitched. She turned slightly, but he didn’t let her go too far. His hands, strong yet gentle, rested on her shoulders.
"I needed time," he admitted. "Not because I had doubts, but because I was overwhelmed… overwhelmed by the pain you’ve carried alone all these years. And knowing that you still found the courage to love me, to trust me, makes me love you even more."
Tears welled in her eyes. "You… you don’t see me differently?"
His fingers tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze—dark, intense, filled with something far deeper than just desire. "I see you as mine. And nothing, nothing, will ever change that."
The words shattered the last of her fears, and she melted into him as he pulled her close. His lips found hers—slow at first, reverent, as if reassuring her that he was here, that he wasn’t going anywhere. But as she responded, something shifted. The emotions they had held back, the longing, the unspoken promises, all came rushing forward.
His hands moved over the delicate embroidery of her dupatta, slipping it from her head, letting it fall like a whisper to the floor. She shivered—not from the cold, but from the way his touch lingered against her skin, tracing a path from her shoulder to her wrist, where his thumb brushed the fresh sindoor at her hairline.
"You are my wife now," he whispered against her temple. "And I will spend the rest of my life making sure you never feel alone again."
Her heart pounded as he lifted her in his arms, carrying her to the bed covered in fresh rose petals. As he laid her down, hovering over her, she saw it in his eyes—not just desire, but devotion, love, the promise of a lifetime together.
End of short tales Chapter 15. Continue reading Chapter 16 or return to short tales book page.