Anupama let out a sigh of relief, shaking her head in disbelief. "Chalo, shukr hai ke unko ladki pasand aa gayi. Chahe woh supposed dulhe ka bhai hi ho. Hai to ladki se bada hi na!" (Thank God they liked the girl, even if it’s the groom’s younger brother. At least he’s older than her!)

Sulochana, still in shock, turned to her sister, her voice trembling with concern. "Par didi… aapko hua kya tha? Aap jaan bujhkar yeh sab kiya hi kyun? Aapko pata toh hai na, mummy-papa ko kitna bura lagta agar woh humko apmaan karte toh?" (But Didi… what happened to you? Why did you do all this on purpose? You know how bad it would’ve been for our parents if they had insulted us!)

Saanjh let out a humorless chuckle, leaning back against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest. Her gaze turned sharp as she stared at her younger sister. "Tu toh bol hi mat, chhoti. 21 saal ki thi tu, bhaag gayi thi na apne aashiq ke saath? Tab tujhe yeh apmaan ki nahi padi thi? Aaj jab meri baari aayi toh tujhmein bohot hi gyaan aa raha hai!" (You don’t get to talk, little one. You ran away with your lover at twenty-one, didn’t you? Back then, you didn’t care about disgrace. But now that it’s my turn, suddenly you have all this wisdom to share!)

Sulochana flinched. "Didi—"

But Saanjh wasn’t finished. She stepped forward, her voice laced with restrained anger and hurt. "Chhoti, tu yeh mat bhool ke uss samay main thi jo in dono ke liye zamane se lad gayi thi. Tere sasural walon ki hazaar baatein, taane sune hain maine, ke kahin tujhe aur in dono ko koi problem na ho. Aur aaj tak kabhi maine koi bhi dawa nahi rakha, kabhi kuch nahi maangi main." (Don’t forget, little one, I was the one who fought the world for these two. I endured a thousand taunts from your in-laws just to make sure you and our parents never had to suffer. And till today, I never held any grudges, never asked for anything in return!)

She took a deep breath, her eyes glistening, but she didn’t let them fall. "Par mera sacrifice kisiko dikhta hi kab hai? Main toh badi beti hoon na? Chhoti behen ki second mother hoon na main? Saare parivaar ke bojh maine hi uthane hain, maa-baap ka dhyaan rakhna hai, aur independent bhi mujhe hi banna hai." (But does anyone ever see my sacrifices? I’m the eldest daughter, right? Practically a second mother to my younger sister. I have to carry the whole family’s burdens, take care of our parents, and somehow still be independent on my own!)

Sulochana looked down, guilt evident on her face.

Saanjh let out a dry laugh, shaking her head. "Arrey, 25 ki hoon main, 50 ki nahi. Abhi bhi poori zindagi baaki hai mujhe jeene mein. Kar lenge shaadi, baccha bhi kar lenge, aur nahi kar paye toh adopt kar lenge. Pehle bhi mandap tak pahunchi thi na main? 20 saal ki tab, papa, aapne mera rishta tair kar diya. Weight zyada hone ki wajah se ladke walon ne shaadi ke din shaadi ke liye mana kar diya." (I’m twenty-five, not fifty! I still have my whole life ahead of me. I’ll get married, I’ll have kids, and if not, I’ll adopt. This isn’t my first time at the altar, remember? I was twenty when you arranged my marriage, Papa. And because I was overweight, the groom’s family rejected me on the wedding day itself!)

Her voice cracked at the last sentence, but she forced herself to stay strong.

"Koi aaya nahi tha tab," she whispered bitterly before looking up. "Mujhe nahi pasand yeh society ki so-called girlie restrictions. Kaise rahein, kaunse kapde pehne, kahan jaayein, kiske saath jaayein, body maintain karein—nahi ho raha mujhse yeh. Main fake nahi ban sakti. Aur main chahti hoon ke main jaisi hoon, mere sasural wale, mera pati mujhe waise hi apnaye. Hoon main curvy, hoon main 70 kg ki. Toh?" (No one came for me then. I don’t like this society’s so-called ‘girlie’ restrictions—how to live, what to wear, where to go, who to be with, maintain a certain body type—I can’t do it. I can’t be fake. I want my in-laws and my husband to accept me as I am. Yes, I’m curvy. Yes, I weigh 70 kg. So what?)

She let out a deep breath, her eyes finally meeting her parents’.

With that, she turned sharply on her heel and stormed toward her bedroom.

Stopping just before entering, she glanced back. "Unko call karke bol dena. Kal mujhe paas wale park mein morning walk mein milne aaye." (Call him and tell him to meet me tomorrow at the nearby park for a morning walk.)

Her father, still recovering from the storm that had just passed, blinked. "Kisko?" (Who?)

Saanjh didn’t hesitate. She looked him straight in the eyes and said, "Nikhil Chaturvedi."

And with that, she walked into her room, shutting the door behind her.

.....

Saanjh kept jogging alone, her high-impact sports bra and yoga track pants hugging her. She didn’t mind showing her curves, moving with a steady rhythm in her sports shoes. Her hair was tied up in a high bun, swaying slightly with each step.

She suddenly heard a voice calling from behind.

"Arrey, madam sunti ho?" (Hey, madam, are you listening?)

She slowed down, exhaled deeply, and turned around, wiping sweat from her forehead.

Nikhil jogged up to her, a boyish grin on his face. "Hi, aapne kaha aap park mein milna chahti hain. Kal sir ka call mila ke aap mujh se yahan milna chahti hain. Aap fitness freak ho?"

(Hi, you said you wanted to meet in the park. Yesterday, after getting a call from sir, you wanted to meet me here. Are you a fitness freak?)

Saanjh stretched her arms before responding. "Nahi. Sirf cholesterol aur diabetes se bachne ke liye aur PCOD ko control mein rakhne ke liye exercise karti hoon."

(No. I just work out to avoid cholesterol, diabetes, and to keep my PCOD under control.)

Nikhil’s eyebrows raised slightly. "Aapko PCOD hai?" (You have PCOD?)

She gave a nonchalant shrug. "Periods start hue tab se hi." (Since I started getting my periods.)

Nikhil softened, his grin turning into something more reassuring. "Koi baat nahi. I'll take care of you."

(It’s okay. I'll take care of you.)

She gave him a long look but didn't comment. Instead, she nodded toward the pathway. "Chalo, ab apne baare mein batate raho. Let’s walk ahead."

(Come on, keep talking about yourself. Let’s walk ahead.)

As they started walking together, Nikhil straightened up slightly, adjusting his watch. "Main Nikhil Chaturvedi—"

Saanjh cut him off with a smirk. "Pata hai mujhe." (I know that.)

He chuckled. "Okay! Aap ye bataiye aap kya jaan na chahti hain?"

(Okay! Tell me, what do you want to know?)

She rubbed her neck before speaking. "Kal main… Mr. Chaturvedi—I mean, your father… maine unse bohot hi kharab manners mein baat kar di. Unko bura laga hoga."

(Yesterday, I spoke very rudely to Mr. Chaturvedi—I mean, your father. He must have felt bad.)

Nikhil laughed, shaking his head. "Arrey! Aap ek baar humare ghar chal kar to dekhiye. Phir aapko samajh aayega, papa kyu raazi ho gaye."

(Oh, come on! Just visit our house once. Then you’ll understand why Papa agreed so easily.)

Saanjh narrowed her eyes playfully. "Cool hai aapke papa?" (Is your dad cool?)

He scoffed. "Lawyers kabhi cool nahi hote." (Lawyers are never cool.)

She raised her hands in surrender. "Oh, my bad."

Nikhil tilted his head slightly before asking, "Aapki family utni hi hai? Matlab, aapke chacha, chachi ya koi aur rishteydar?"

(Is that all your family consists of? I mean, uncles, aunts, or other relatives?)

Saanjh sighed, adjusting her wristbands. "Mere papa Rajasthan se hain. Mummy Bangalore ki par unke family ab yahan Delhi mein settle ho gaye hai. Family mein sirf papa hi padhe likhe hain. Unki chaar behne thi, jinki shaadi ho chuki hai, aur shayad do behne guzar bhi gayi. Papa padhai complete karne Bangalore aaye the, tab mummy se mile aur dono ki shaadi ho gayi. Par mummy ko humare gaaon mein koi pasand nahi karta tha, toh papa ko Delhi mein professor ka job milte hi, hum yahan aa gaye. Tab main der saal ki thi. Dada-dadi bhi guzar gaye kareeban do saal baad, aur hum phir kabhi gaaon wapas nahi gaye."

(My father is from Rajasthan. My mother is from Bangalore, now they are living here in Delhi too. In our family, only my father is educated. He had four sisters who are all married off, and I think two of them have passed away. My father came to Bangalore for his studies, where he met my mother, and they got married. But my mother was never accepted in our village, so when my father got a professor’s job in Delhi, we moved here. I was about one and a half years old then. My grandparents passed away two years later, and we never went back to our village after that.)

Nikhil absorbed the information, then asked, "You can speak Marwari then?"

Saanjh smirked. "Oh come on. Main Rajasthani hoon, Marwari nahin par mujhe bolna aata hai. And I think main pehle bhi demo de chuki hoon." (Oh come on. I am Rajasthani but I'm not Marwari, still I can speak in Marwari. And I think I’ve already given a demo before.)

His eyes narrowed in thought before suddenly widening. "Nahi, maine to kabhi aapke munh se—wait… main jab college mein tha, tab ek din ek ladki Pandey sir ko lunch dene aayi thi…"

(No, I’ve never heard you speak—wait… when I was in college, one day a girl came to give lunch to Pandey sir…)

Saanjh grinned, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "Woh main hi thi." (That was me.)

Nikhil’s jaw dropped. "And for your kind information, I am not older than you." She added.

He groaned dramatically. "Main kitna dumb hoon! Fuck, maine pehchan ne mein galti kar diya!"

(How dumb am I! Fuck, I made a mistake by not recognizing you!)

Saanjh laughed. "Kyu? Ab regret ho raha hai? Ke kis se shaadi ke liye haan kar di?"

(Why? Are you regretting saying yes to this marriage now?)

He rolled his eyes. "Arrey woh nahi yaar. You didn’t even change a little. Waise hi attitude lekar baat karti ho. Tum sach mein same ho yaar."

(No, not that. You haven’t changed at all. You still talk with the same attitude. You’re seriously the same.)

Then, realization hit him, and he immediately corrected himself. "Sorry, main aapko 'tum' kehkar bula liya."

(Sorry, I called you ‘tum’ instead of ‘aap.’)

Saanjh waved a hand dismissively. "Who cares? Tum hi theek hai. Mujhe bhi zyada formalities pasand nahi."

(Who cares? ‘Tum’ is fine. I don’t like too many formalities either.)

He suddenly stopped walking and turned to her. "Toh?" (So?)

She raised a brow. "Hmm?"

His voice softened slightly. "Tum iss shaadi ke liye raazi ho?" (Are you okay with this marriage?)

Saanjh exhaled. "Proper haan ke liye time lagega. Tab tak ek doosre ko jaan lete hain."

(I’ll need time for a proper ‘yes.’ Until then, let’s get to know each other.)

Nikhil smiled and nodded. "Kal tum mere ghar aao. Mere family se milo. Woh bhi betab hain tumse milne ke liye."

(Tomorrow, come to my house. Meet my family. They are eager to meet you too.)

She chuckled. "Packaging ka kaam poora ho jaaye toh phir zaroor."

(Once my packaging work is done, then definitely.)

He looked confused. "Packaging?"

Saanjh stretched her arms again. "Online boutique hai mera. Orders pending rehte hain, workers hain chhe, aur gharwale bhi kabhi kabhi madad kar dete hain."

(I have an online boutique. Orders keep coming in, I have six workers, and my family helps sometimes too.)

Nikhil grinned. "Noted."

Saanjh smirked. "Ab batao, kabhi kisi se pyaar kiya hai?"

(Now tell me, have you ever been in love?)

He snorted. "Nahi. I was too good for others, so—"

"Hatt, jhoota kahin ka!" (Shut up, liar!)

They both burst into laughter, the comfortable teasing filling the air between them.