The drums beat loud as colors spilled into the night. Gunnu, adorned in red, sat amidst golden lights. Her gummy smile was missing, her mischief stolen by nerves. Everyone around her sang and danced, relatives making snide remarks about the “serious groom” and the “childish bride.”
Abhinav entered in his groom’s attire, walking with his usual martial stride—controlled, steady, unreadable. Some whispered he looked like a general ready for war rather than a wedding. Gunnu overheard, biting her lips to swallow her anxiety.
When they finally sat beside each other, she felt the weight of his presence like iron. Words failed. Silence pressed between them through vows and chants.
But when the rituals ended and they were left briefly alone, Abhinav’s voice broke the silence. “You don’t have to fake a smile. I can wait until you mean it.”
Gunnu froze. Not poetry. Not sweet promises. Just steady truth. For reasons she couldn’t explain, her stiff shoulders relaxed, her lips twitching despite herself.
Maybe this soldier wasn’t here to demand. Maybe he was here… to protect.
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