As Saina wrestled with her insecurities, lost in her thoughts, the door creaked open. Sameer walked in, dressed immaculately in his sherwani, locking the door behind him.
The moment her eyes landed on him, Saina shot up from the bed in surprise. Her bridal saree had already betrayed her-one of the pleats had slipped from her waist.
"Hey Bhagwan!" she gasped, frantically clutching the loose pleat to avoid further embarrassment.
She cursed mentally of her clumsiness nature.
'Isliye bolti hu ki mujhe saree mat pehnaye..saree mere liye bani hi nahi hain' she mutters under her breath.
He immediately averted his gaze politely and said in a calm yet firm tone, "Jao, jaake change kar lo."
Flustered, she nodded quickly, her cheeks burning with embarrassment.
'Kar liya na apni bezati pehle hi mulaqat mein' she pouts.
Just as she turned to head toward the bathroom, her saree betrayed her again. The pleats slipped further, tangling around her feet. Before she could react, she stumbled, crashing into Sameer's firm chest.
His hands instinctively gripped her arms to steady her, but his voice carried a hint of irritation.
"Agar saree handle nahi kar paati ho, toh pehanti kyu ho".
She flinches with his raised tone as she backs away immediately.
"Sorry... woh mujhe itni heavy saree pehne ki aadat nahi hai. Isliye... Sorry, Sameer ji," she said softly, her gaze dropping to the floor to hide her embarrassment.
Sameer sighed, his expression unreadable. "Jao, washroom waha hai. Change kar lo," he said, walking away and pulling out his smartwatch and phone.
Without another word, Saina hurried into the bathroom, her heart pounding in her chest as she tried to hold back her tears.
Saina's POV
I stepped into the washroom, my eyes landing on the mirror. The reflection staring back at me was... a disaster.
My saree was completely misplaced, my maang tikka hung awkwardly out of place, and my kajal and sindoor had smudged into a mess. I let out a soft, defeated whisper.
"Sab log toh shaadi ke baad kitna glow karte hain... kitne sundar lagte hain woh log. Aur mujhe dekho," I murmured, gathering my pallu tightly in one fist.
"Kya karoon agar saree handle nahi kar pati toh? Meri galti hai kya? Koi nahi, Saina... tu ro mat... woh bas tu gir ja rahi thi na, isliye zor se bol diye," I tried to console myself, blinking back the tears threatening to spill. With a deep breath, I reached for the makeup remover and wiped away the remnants of my ruined makeup.
After what felt like an eternity of pulling out endless pins from my saree and hair, I finally changed into a fresh kameez. The neckline was deep, and I instinctively secured it with a pin to avoid any discomfort.
I stepped back into the room to find him-Sameer-sitting on the sofa, engrossed in his phone. He had already changed into his t-shirt, his back turned to me.
I perched on the bed, waiting for him to join me, but instead, he grabbed a pillow and placed it on the sofa. Without a word, he stretched out on the cramped piece of furniture, switching off his side lamp.
Confused , I couldn't stop myself from asking, "Aap sofa pe kyun so rahe hain?"
My voice wavered slightly. The sofa was far too small for him; it looked terribly uncomfortable.
"Bas aise hi," he replied curtly, draping his arm over his eyes as if to shield himself from the conversation.
I pressed on, desperate to bridge the distance, "Bed toh bahut bada hai, Sameer ji... aap yahan ache se so sakte hain."
"It's okay. Tum so jao... main yahan bilkul theek hoon," he muttered, turning his back to me without another word.
His distant behavior struck a chord deep within me. My eyes stung with unshed tears as I sank into my side of the bed. I pulled the blanket up, trying to find solace, but my heart felt unbearably heavy.
I had left my parents, my home, everything familiar, to step into this new life. All I wanted was one thing: the support of my husband. Some comfort. A little care. That's it.
Growing up, I had dreamed of a loving husband, someone who would make me feel safe and cherished. But tonight, lying on this unfamiliar bed with an even more unfamiliar distance between us, it felt like God had snatched even that one dream away from me.
Flashback:-
'Ewwww!!! Yeh tumhare yaha kya cheez hai??' one of her classmate ask her as she pointed her chest that peaking from her shirt collar.
Saina tried to hide her discomfort behind a small, hesitant smile. "Meri bachpan mein OT hui thi... yeh wahi stitches ke nishaan hain," she explained softly, her voice barely audible.
But her classmate didn't respond with understanding or kindness. Instead, her expression soured further, her eyes scanning Saina as if she were some untouchable object. Without another word, she turned and walked away, leaving Saina standing there, her smile faltering.
That moment marked the beginning of Saina's isolation.
From that day onward, her classmates maintained a deliberate distance from her. No body wants to become her friend.If she tried to sit beside anyone, they would immediately get up and move to another bench, leaving her alone, surrounded by whispers and judgmental glances.
Flashback ends.
Today she is feeling the same thing as her hand caresses the empty side. One lone tear escaped from her eyes.
She tightly clutches her Krishna locket as she goes into her slumber.
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