Author's Pov:

She woke up and went through her morning routine. All she wanted was to spend the day with herself and her family, to relax without any interruptions. She knew about the event but had already decided she would make an excuse—that she wasn't feeling well.

The day drifted by in simple comforts. She spent time with her family, discussing little things, even planning to visit new places someday. Later, they all sat together watching a TV show, and in the evening shared tea. It felt like life as she had always craved it—ordinary, peaceful, full of warmth.

Yet beneath that calm, thoughts tugged at her heart. She was tired of going to new places, tired of thinking that one day things would unfold like a fairytale—that someone would notice her, see her, want her for who she truly was. She longed for someone who would cherish her caring side. But deep down she believed the world did not work that way, at least not for her.

She knew she was beautiful, but she was also painfully aware that for someone, she might never be the one and only choice. No one, she thought, would ever fall in love with her like that. The realization cut her deeply. She wanted to forget such thoughts, yet they returned with force—the dream of having a loving husband, of raising children she could shower with affection, of building a home brimming with warmth. But after so many years of waiting, nothing had changed.

The thought that she might never experience those things tore at her heart. Life had taught her not to expect too much from people. Everyone, she believed, was with you for a reason or a purpose. No one stayed only for you, or for your happiness. Their priority would always be themselves. She had even tried to be like that—to think only of herself, to be selfish. But she couldn't.

She carried a giving, loving heart. She wanted to love someone wholly. She wanted a husband and children on whom she could pour her affection endlessly. These thoughts hurt her, but she couldn't push them away. They returned again and again, like an ache that refused to heal.

Maybe that was why she slept so much. To escape. To silence the ache.

She wanted to talk to people sometimes, but the more she understood their shallow thoughts and feelings, the more she avoided sharing her own. She knew they would never understand. So she chose silence. She couldn't flatter or butter people for her own gain—she didn't need to. She remained silent until someone hurt her, emotionally or physically. Words of others didn't touch her much; she knew they reflected only the speaker's mind.

She believed a truly mature man or woman would never waste time criticizing or belittling others. If something mattered, they would speak directly; if not, they would let it go. She longed for someone like that. But she had lost hope.

With that thought heavy on her heart, she drifted into sleep.

Around nine, her mother woke her gently for dinner. They didn't want her to sleep on an empty stomach. She sat at the table, ate quietly, then returned to her bed. The weight of tomorrow's work lingered at the edges of her mind as she closed her eyes again and surrendered to sleep.

__________

He came home around midnight, had dinner alone, and went to bed. Sleep didn't come easily. He lay there for a long time, staring into the darkness, not knowing when it finally consumed him.

The next morning, after his workout at the gym, Neil mentioned that Saumya didi and little Ruhi had come over. Hearing this, Reyan felt a quiet surge of happiness and decided he would join them for breakfast. He only replied with a short "hmm" and left for the dining area.

When he entered, everyone was already seated. Ruhi was in her own world, chattering to his parents in her sweet gibberish. They nodded along, replying with the same seriousness as if they truly understood every word. She was animatedly complaining about how Vihaan hadn't given her the laptop to play with. Everyone tried hard to stifle their laughter, careful not to upset her into tears.

The moment she noticed Reyan, she broke into giggles and stretched her tiny arms towards him. He picked her up with ease, kissed her affectionately, and settled into a chair with her in his lap. She repeated her "laptop story" in her language, pointing towards Vihaan with mock indignation. Reyan listened with a smile and then pretended to scold Vihaan. "I'll buy her more toys," he said in a mock-serious tone.

Ruhi beamed, kissed his cheek with pure delight, and clapped her little hands. Reyan's smile deepened—warm, genuine, straight from the heart. He fed her small bites of breakfast, and she enjoyed every morsel while babbling secrets only she seemed to understand, leaving everyone else trying to decipher her words.

After spending some more time with her, Reyan promised Ruhi that he would come back soon. With that, he kissed her once more and left for the office, carrying the sweetness of the morning in his heart.

He was going through some files, but his mind kept drifting back to Ruhi. Thoughts of when he would have a family and children of his own surfaced again, piercing him the way they always did. He tried to push them away, but he couldn't. That day marked sixty years of the NGO his mother had been running, and the function was being held there. Yet he hadn't gone.

The idea of sitting through the usual questions, the subtle jabs, the endless conversations about marriage—about which girl was being suggested by which relatives or acquaintances—was unbearable. He was tired of it. Upset, restless, and unwilling to tolerate any of it, he had skipped the event.

But neither did he work. He told his manager not to disturb him and let the hours pass. By the time he returned home, it was around nine. Everyone in the house knew why he was early that day—simply to spend time with Ruhi. He would have come earlier, but she and Saumya had been at the function.

When he arrived, he found that Saumya and Ruhi were not there in the living room. As he started towards his room, his father explained that Ruhi had fallen asleep in the car, probably exhausted from the event and the crowd. Reyan only replied with a quiet "hmm" and moved on, but his grandfather stopped him.

"Sit," his grandfather said, and asked gently if he had eaten. Reyan lied without effort, claiming that he had already had dinner.

Then came the inevitable subject—marriage. His grandfather told him to give someone a chance, reminding him that not every girl was untrustworthy. "How will you have a good wife, a family, children, if you never meet anyone or allow us to find someone for you? This is not how life works," his grandfather reasoned.

Reyan wasn't in the mood, but he sat there quietly, listening. Soon, the talk turned to the upcoming anniversary function. They wanted him to be there. He replied that he had to leave for another city for three days for an important meeting. His grandfather insisted Neil could attend that meeting instead, but Reyan refused, saying he would go.

Then, with a firmness that came from resignation rather than hope, he told them they could go ahead and find a girl if they wished. "Find someone who is not materialistic," he said, "someone who values family, someone loyal. If I find her suitable for marriage, then I will marry. Otherwise, I will not."

With those final words, he rose and left the room, the heaviness in his heart unspoken but unmistakable.

Everyone was stunned. It was the first time Reyan had said yes to marriage. Until now, whenever the subject came up, he either refused outright, shut them off, or simply walked away. But tonight, he had said yes. Now they had to find a girl.

Vihaan, dramatic as always, jumped up. "Let me bring sweets! It's great news—bhai has said yes to marriage!" He returned with ice cream instead, his grin wide enough to split his face.

As they ate, suggestions began flying around.
His father said, "My friend's daughter—I met her once, she seemed nice."
Vihaan immediately cut in. "Whom are you talking about? Natasha? Big no. She's just after money. Bhai will reject her the moment he hears her name."
Vaidehi nodded. "Absolutely."

His aunt suggested one of their relative's daughters.
Vihaan shook his head again. "No. Don't you know what kind of videos she posts on social media?"

The laughter died down, and for a moment, the room grew quiet. Then, almost hesitantly, his mother spoke. "What do you all think... about Shreya?"

The name dropped into the conversation like a stone in still water. Everyone stilled.

Vaidehi's eyes lit up. "Yes. The one we met today. I don't know...She's polite. Responsible. She clearly loves her family."

His aunt said softly, "She's caring too. Did you not see it? The way she carried herself today? There was a quiet strength in her."

His mother said, "I liked her even when I saw her first at the temple."

One of the cousins chimed in. "Yes. She was very thoughtful. She didn't do cheap things to attract attention. She's kindhearted, soft-spoken... shy, yes, but not fake."

The silence stretched as they all reflected on her. For the first time that night, the suggestions felt serious—weighty, real.

It was at that moment that Neil returned after finishing the event arrangements. They told him immediately. "Reyan said yes to marriage."

Neil stared at them in disbelief. "To whom?"
"To no one yet," they explained. "But we were just talking... about Shreya."

He listened, then said, "Okay," with a calm face and went to his room. When asked if he had anyone in mind, he gave a flat "no" and left.

His cousins and mother exchanged knowing looks and teased, "Reyan ke saath rahkar, ye bhi uske jaisa hi hota ja raha hai. Bilkul. Lagta hai ye bhi shaadi ke liye pareshan karega."

Everyone burst into laughter, the tension easing again.

Then Vaidehi steered them back. "So, are we decided? Tomorrow is the anniversary. We'll meet her properly, know her opinion about marriage, and try to understand her better."

Everyone agreed.

By then, it was midnight. They wished each other goodnight and went off to their rooms, Shreya's name still echoing in their minds.

***