18. The uncoventional vows

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The air crackled with a nervous energy that mirrored the pre-monsoon Mumbai sky

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The air crackled with a nervous energy that mirrored the pre-monsoon Mumbai sky. Sunlight battled with storm clouds, casting an ever-shifting tapestry of light and shadow across the sprawling Oberoi mansion. Inside, the opulent venue buzzed with activity. Lush floral arrangements, a vibrant palette of frangipanis and orchids, contrasted with the stark, minimalist décor Aparna had insisted upon. It was a delicate balance, a reflection of the unconventional union about to take place.

Aparna, resplendent in the crimson lace lehenga that shimmered like a fallen ember, stood rigidly before the mirror. Her reflection, usually radiating a quiet confidence, seemed lost in a sea of unfamiliar emotions. The weight of the gold jewelry, a concession to tradition, felt heavy on her slender frame.

A gentle knock startled her. It was Nadia. Her eyes widened at the sight of Aparna.

"Whoa, you look like a queen," she breathed, a wide smile gracing her lips.

Aparna managed a wan smile in return. "Do I?"

Antara bustled around her, fluffing the saree and adjusting the veil. "Absolutely! But you okay? You seem a bit... tense."

Aparna sighed. "It's just... a lot to process, isn't it?"

"The biggest day of your life?" Nadia teased, a twinkle in her eye.

"More like the most unconventional day," Aparna corrected with a humorless laugh.

Nadia sobered. "Look, I know this isn't what you envisioned, but hey, you never were one for fairytales, were you?"

Aparna shook her head. "Marriage was always a practical decision for me. But this... this feels anything but."

"Maybe that's not a bad thing," Antara offered tentatively. "Maybe there's a different kind of happily ever after waiting for you. One you didn't even know you were looking for."

Aparna considered this, a flicker of hope igniting in her chest. Maybe Antara was right. Maybe this marriage, born out of practicality, could blossom into something more.

Downstairs, Varad paced the length of the library, a storm brewing in his steely grey eyes. Dressed in a flawlessly tailored sherwani, he looked every bit the successful businessman, yet his heart felt like a lead weight in his chest. This marriage, a desperate attempt to salvage some semblance of normalcy for his son, felt like a betrayal of everything he believed in.

His reverie was broken by the arrival of Sahil and Ryan. Sahil clapped him on the shoulder, his booming voice a stark contrast to Varad's brooding silence.

"Looking dapper, Oberoi! Ready to tie the knot?"

Varad sighed. "As ready as I'll ever be, I suppose."

Sahil studied him intently. "You know, you don't have to do this if you're not sure."

Varad scoffed. "What choice do I have? Megh needs a stable home, and frankly, so do I."

"But what about you, Varad? What about your happiness?"

Varad looked away, a muscle clenching in his jaw. "Happiness is a luxury I can't afford anymore."

"Maybe," Ryan conceded, "but maybe this marriage could be the surprise you weren't expecting."

The idea sparked a flicker of something in Varad's eyes, a flicker he quickly extinguished. He couldn't allow himself to hope. Hope had a nasty habit of curdling into disappointment.

The ceremony was a whirlwind of vibrant colors, rhythmic chants, and the cloying scent of incense. Aparna and Varad exchanged garlands, their eyes locked in a silent battle of wills. There was a spark there, undeniable, but it was overshadowed by a healthy dose of apprehension.

A shared glance during the ceremony fell upon Megh. His unrestrained joy, the melody of his laughter, and his lively chatter filled the space around them. In that moment, a quiet sense of contentment bloomed in Aparna and Varad's chests. It was a silent validation, a whisper that their unconventional choice held meaning.

For Varad, the sight of Megh's happiness was especially poignant. Every interaction between his son and Aparna, now his wife, warmed him from the inside. It solidified his resolve, a silent promise that he had created a safe and loving space for Megh to thrive.

When it came time for the vows, both Aparna and Varad strayed from tradition. Aparna, in a clear, unwavering voice, spoke of partnership, of mutual respect, and of building a life together based on honesty and communication. Varad, his voice surprisingly husky, echoed her sentiments, adding a promise to create a safe space for her, a space where she could be her true, independent self.

The simplicity of their vows resonated through the opulent hall. It was a promise not of grand gestures or sweeping declarations, but of a quiet understanding, a commitment to face the unknown together.

As they circled the sacred fire, the priest chanted the final blessings. Husband. Wife. The words hung heavy in the air. Aparna and Varad, two souls bound by an unusual circumstance, stood at the precipice of a new beginning. The future stretched before them, uncertain yet brimming with possibility. They had entered this marriage with reservations

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