The living room was too quiet.
Even the ticking clock on the wall seemed hesitant to move forward.
Saanvi sat on the sofa, a cup of untouched tea resting on the table before her. Rajeev paced nearby, and Neelima stood by the window with her hands wringing her dupatta.
“Why are you both acting like someone died?” Saanvi said quietly.
Her voice didn’t raise, but something sharp hid beneath her calm.
Rajeev stopped pacing.
Neelima turned.
Then came the words that cracked her world.
“We want you to get married.”
Saanvi blinked. “To who?”
Neelima avoided her eyes. “A good man. Stable. Respected.”
“You’re both lying.”
Rajeev sighed. “His name is Veer aarya singh. ”
Silence.
The name sank into her like a hook in still water.
She knew that name.
But from where?
Her head hurt.
“Why now?” she asked. “Why so suddenly?”
Rajeev sat beside her, his voice softer now. “Meher ran away, beta. The family’s reputation is shattered. We’re being talked about like a joke. This… this would fix everything.”
“You’re asking me to fix something I didn’t break,” she said.
Neelima sat on her other side. “We’re not forcing you, Saanvi. We’re… we’re asking you to trust us. This marriage… it’s safe.”
Safe.
That word again.
That lie again.
Saanvi closed her eyes. The feeling of being watched. The second white tuberose. The files on her desk that felt touched. The silence her family had been keeping.
She didn’t say yes.
She just stopped saying no.
𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙣𝙚𝙭𝙩 𝙙𝙖𝙮
The Mehra home hadn’t seen this kind of stillness in years. Not the peaceful kind — but the kind that came right before something heavy, irreversible.
Saanvi stood in front of the mirror, wearing a soft teal saree with her doctor’s coat draped over the back of her chair — forgotten for now. Her fingers fidgeted with her earrings as she caught her own anxious reflection.
They’re just people, she told herself.
They’re his family. Not the mafia.
But that lie had an expiration date.
The bell rang.
And the air shifted.
---
The Arrival of the Singhs
The main doors opened to a picture-perfect, quietly powerful entourage.
Leading them was Aarya Singh, Veer’s mother — poised in a dark emerald Kanjivaram, her aura serene, lips painted with the color of command.
Right behind her was Arvind Singh, Veer’s father — tall, composed, and cold in the way polished marble is. Not rude, not cruel. But unreadable.
Mahesh Singh and Savita Singh, Veer’s paternal uncle and aunt, followed close behind. Mahesh was a man of few words, with silver at his temples and old-school dignity in his movements. Savita offered a warm smile, her eyes genuinely kind behind her glasses.
Next came the younger wave —
Rudra Singh, Veer’s biological younger brother, grinning like he owned the place.
Anirudh Singh, the cousin, flirtatious, theatrical.
And finally, Rhea Singh, their bright, chatty sister with expressive eyes and modern warmth.
And at the center of them all…
Veer Aarya Singh.
Wearing a dark kurta, expression unreadable. Eyes locked on Saanvi.
---
The Living Room Theatre
Neelima welcomed them all with folded hands, nervous but polite.
“Please come in, we’re honored.”
Rajeev—still adjusting to the whirlwind—stood with a stiff spine, nodding respectfully toward Arvind.
The Singhs took their seats on one side of the room like royalty arriving for judgment.
Savita began the small talk.
“So, Doctor Saanvi,” she said, smiling sweetly, “how long have you been practicing?”
“Three years,” Saanvi replied. “Cardiothoracic focus.”
Mahesh hummed approvingly. “A disciplined field.”
Then Rudra leaned forward with a teasing grin. “Discipline and beauty — Veer really hit the jackpot, didn’t he?”
Anirudh chimed in, “She’s got a scalpel and a smile. Dangerous combo.”
Rhea rolled her eyes. “Ignore them, Didi. They don’t know how to behave in front of adults.”
Saanvi chuckled quietly. “I’m used to hospital chaos. This is nothing.”
“Yet,” Veer added, voice soft but darkly amused. “It gets louder.”
--
Later, while others chatted, Aarya took Saanvi aside to the garden.
“You're calm,” Aarya noted. “That’s rare.”
Saanvi replied, “Surgery trains you to stay calm even when something’s dying.”
Aarya raised a brow, impressed. “I like you.”
She rested her hand lightly on Saanvi’s wrist. “You don’t have to fear our world. Just understand it. You don’t marry one man. You marry a whole legacy.”
Saanvi didn’t answer.The word legacy sounded more like trap.
---
Arvind Singh Speaks
Inside, Arvind finally broke his silence.He turned to Rajeev and Neelima. “We don’t want spectacle. We value privacy. Our family does not tolerate scandal. I assume yours does not either.”
Rajeev nodded quickly. “Of course not. We understand.”
Arvind looked at Saanvi once. No judgment. No affection.Just… evaluation.Then he turned to Veer and gave the smallest of nods.
Saanvi’s heart dropped.
---
A New Friend
Before the Singhs left, Rhea gently slipped Saanvi a folded note.
“Text me if they become too intense. I’ll decode them for you. – Rhea”
Saanvi smiled for the first time all evening.
Maybe not every Singh was a storm.
---
Outside, as the Singhs walked to their cars, Veer lingered near the gate. He waited for Saanvi.
“You held yourself well,” he said.
“I held myself together,” she replied. “Not the same thing.”
He stepped closer, lowering his voice.
“Do you regret this yet?”
She met his gaze — that gaze which knew too much.
“Not yet. But ask me again tomorrow.”
He smiled.Not because he was amused.Because he liked the challenge.

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