when everything changes

The Wedding Day

Radhya

"A court marriage?"

I stared at my father, who was standing in front of the mirror, adjusting his hair with gel. I had assumed he and sagarika would have a traditional Indian wedding, but instead, they had chosen a simple legal ceremony.

He turned slightly, catching my reflection in the mirror before facing me directly. Not wanting to make things awkward, I shifted on my feet.

"Radhya, my love," he said, placing his hands gently on my shoulders. His eyes held warmth and affection. "Are you happy with this decision?"

He hesitated before adding, "I just hope you don't think I'm being selfish. You know how people love to gossip, right?

Society always has something to say. But at the end of the day, what really matters is that both of us are happy with this choice. Our families have no objections…

except, perhaps, Me But My disagreement wouldn't change anything, would it?"

I exhaled slowly, pushing my thoughts aside. Did it really matter what people thought? These two were getting married by choice, out of love. And even if I had objections, what weight did they hold?

It wasn't easy to accept, but my father had spent nearly two decades prioritizing me over himself. He could have remarried long ago, moved on, found happiness, but instead, he chose to raise me alone. And now, I was eighteen—I could make my own decisions, handle my own life. But what about him? He had spent almost seventeen years without a partner, dedicating his youth to me. Didn't he deserve happiness? Who was I to take that away from him?

"Does Mom know?"

The question slipped out as I pulled myself from my thoughts.

My father sighed, turning back to the dressing table. He picked up his favorite watch, strapping it onto his wrist.

"I didn't tell her. I didn't think it was necessary," he replied casually. His voice carried no emotion. Maybe he was right—why would it matter? It wasn't as if anything about our lives had ever made a difference to her. She had her own world now, and we weren't a part of it.

He adjusted his collar and looked at me. "Alright, I'm ready. You?"

I glanced down at myself. I was wearing a navy blue anarkali suit—a rare choice, considering I wasn't a fan of Indian wear. But today was a special occasion, so here I was, dressed for it.

"I've been ready for a while," I teased. "You're the one who took forever."

He chuckled. "Obviously, it's my wedding. I can't exactly show up in casuals, can I?"

I laughed too, but as I looked at him—truly looked at him—I saw a man brimming with happiness. Was it because he was getting married? Or because he had found someone like Niharika?

Sagarika was a vision—elegant, stylish, adored by many. A social media influencer with an air of grace that set her apart. Unlike other women, she was never seen with messy hair or mismatched outfits. My father had chosen well. She was perfect.

Except… she was also Rakshit's mother.

And that changed everything.

My father sprayed a final mist of cologne, then turned to me with a smile. "Shall we? Everyone's already left for the venue."

I nodded, holding his gaze. His eyes shone with joy, but beneath it, I sensed a flicker of nervousness.

He reached for my hand, and together, we stepped out the door.

---

The car ride to the registrar's office took half an hour, but to me, it felt like mere seconds. The weight of the moment pressed heavily on my chest, my thoughts spiraling. What would happen after today? How would I navigate my emotions?

"Radhya."

My father's voice pulled me from my thoughts. He was watching me curiously, perhaps trying to read my expression. I forced a small smile and nodded.

"Let's go, Dad."

That one smile seemed to be enough to ease his lingering uncertainty.

I opened my car door at the same time as he did, but as I stepped out, my feet felt rooted to the ground. My stomach twisted, my heartbeat pounded against my ribs.

After today, nothing would ever be the same.

I wasn't ready for this.

In a feeble attempt to mask my emotions, I slid my sunglasses over my eyes. The dark lenses became my shield, hiding the turmoil brewing within. I needed to stay composed.

—--------

The registrar's office was small, the air thick with the scent of old paperwork and fresh marigold garlands. A weary magistrate, his half-moon glasses slipping down his nose, flipped through the marriage documents with mild disinterest. The ceiling fan overhead creaked, the sound filling the tense silence.

I glanced at Rakshit, sitting beside me. His long legs stretched out casually, thumbs tapping rhythmically against his knee. He looked… relaxed. Amused, even. As if this were just another one of our many shared misadventures.

But for me, this was a crisis.

Their marriage meant Rakshit would no longer just be my closest friend. He would be my stepbrother.

My stomach clenched.

"Name of the groom?" the magistrate asked, adjusting his glasses.

"Aaditya Mittal," my father answered firmly.

"Name of the bride?"

"Sagarika Ahuja," she responded, her voice laced with quiet happiness.

I flicked another glance at Rakshit. His face was unreadable, his usual smirk nowhere in sight. Was he feeling the same discomfort? Did he realize what this meant for us? Did he even care?

"Do you, Mr. Aaditya Mittal, take sagarika Ahuja as your lawful wedded wife?"

"I do."

My father sounded so… happy. I should be happy too. Wasn't I?

"And do you, Ms. Sagarika Ahuja, take Aaditya Mittal as your lawful wedded husband?"

"I do."

The magistrate nodded. "Sign here."

As their hands moved to sign the papers, a lump formed in my throat. This was it. The moment everything became real.

I felt a sudden, tight grip on my hand. Startled, I turned to see Aaliyah sitting beside me, her fingers clutching mine. I hadn't expected it. Her face, usually full of liveliness, held an expression of sadness.

Why?

Shouldn't she be happy, like Rakshit? Instead, her eyes held something I couldn't quite understand.

I wanted to ask, but I wasn't sure I had the courage to.

"Radhya."

Rakshit leaned toward me, his voice a quiet whisper.

"Last chance to object. Should I create a distraction? Fake a heart attack?"

I turned to him, caught off guard. He was grinning, but there was something else in his eyes—a silent question.

I wanted to laugh. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream that this was all wrong, that I still hadn't sorted through my feelings for him, that I wasn't ready for him to be my brother.

Instead, I rolled my eyes. "Grow up, Rakshit."

His smirk widened. "Not a chance."

The magistrate's stamp landed on the papers with a loud thud.

"Congratulations. You are now legally married."

Cheers erupted from the small group of family and friends. Flower petals rained down. Our parents hugged, beaming with joy.

Rakshit nudged me. "Hey, step-sis."

I turned, my heart hammering.

He grinned mischievously. "Guess I have lifetime rights to steal your fries now."

I huffed. "Touch my fries, and I'll legally disown you."

He laughed. The world moved on.

But inside my heart, nothing felt the same.

I suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to get out of there—it was becoming suffocating, unbearable even, to breathe under the same roof where every relationship had been redefined, where boundaries had been drawn and sealed.

Inside, everyone was busy congratulating each other, lost in the joy of new beginnings. Taking advantage of the chaos, I quietly slipped out of the courtroom. A cold gust of wind brushed against my cheek, almost as if whispering a silent welcome to this new life of mine. A bitter smile curled at the corners of my lips.

"What are you doing out here? Everyone inside is looking for you," Rakshit's voice cut through the moment, his brows raised in question. He must have followed me out.

"Just needed some air. It was getting suffocating inside," I replied, trying to sound convincing.

"Makes sense," he mused. "A lot of people were crammed into that small space—I'm sure that's why you felt suffocated."

I nodded, my gaze fixating on his face. He's the guy I've loved to the extent that he never even realized it. I have done everything I could just to make him notice me, to make him see what I felt for him. But in the end, I failed. Every single time, he prioritized me, stood by my side—but only as a friend.

Did he really never sense it? Never once feel what I felt for him? If he had just made a little effort, maybe we wouldn't have ended up here, at this point where our gazes—once filled with longing—are now burdened with the weight of imposed relationships.

"Why did you take off the necklace?"

His voice pulled me out of my thoughts. His eyes flicked toward my clenched fist, where the delicate piece of jewelry now rested.

I stammered, "Uh... it came undone on its own. The clasp must have loosened."

I lied.

The truth was, that necklace had begun to feel like a noose around my neck, tightening with every passing moment.

"I told you never to take it off," he said, narrowing his eyes slightly.

That was the problem—it was a gift from him, a butterfly necklace he had given me on my birthday. I had cherished it, never parting with it. But today, it felt suffocating. Today, for the first time, I had taken it off.

"Let me see," he said, almost snatching it from me.

Examining it closely, he murmured, "It looks fine. Maybe it got caught on something and came undone."

"Maybe," I replied, forcing myself to hold back the emotions surging within me. I couldn't afford to meet his eyes, so I let my sunglasses shield me.

But this was Rakshit—he wouldn't rest until his curiosity was satisfied.

"And why are you wearing shades?" he asked, leaning in slightly, as if trying to peer through them.

I took a step back, creating distance between us. His scent was enough to stir desires within me that I had no intention of acknowledging. I couldn't risk getting caught off guard.

"Oh, um... I have an eye infection. Just taking precautions so I don't spread it to anyone else," I said, forcing a fake, awkward smile.

"Really? Move back a little."

Before I could react, he gripped my shoulders and turned me around, positioning me with my back against him.

My breath hitched.

He was so close—so close that I could feel his warmth seeping through the space between us. His breath fanned against my neck, sending an involuntary shiver down my spine. My knees felt weak, barely able to hold me upright.

"W-what are you doing?" I whispered, my voice barely audible.

"What do you think?" he murmured, a playful edge lacing his tone.

His fingers brushed against my skin as he swept my hair to one side, exposing my neck.

And that was when I felt it—cold metal pressing against my skin.

He was fastening the necklace back around my neck.

"This time, I'll make sure it never comes off," he said, his voice firm, resolute.

A moment later, he let my hair fall back into place, cascading over my shoulder like before.

With great difficulty, I straightened my spine, creating space between us. Turning to face him, I forced a smile and muttered a quiet, "Thank you."

His lips curved into a smirk. "By the way, you look good in my arms. I didn't expect you to look this good."

And with that, he winked.

What the hell was that?

Was he... flirting with me?

What was I supposed to make of this?

And why was he acting so damn dominant today?

Was I imagining things, or was there something there—something real, something he felt too?

Or was I just fooling myself... again?

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Hello, lovelies!

How are you all doing? This is my first novel, and I truly hope you all enjoyed it! I would love to hear your thoughts, so don't forget to share your feedback in the comments.

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