Vows
Vows Before Midnight
"Every marriage begins with a promise.
Ours began with a secret."
---
People often say a bride glows on her wedding day.
They never mention the weight.
The weight of silk stitched with gold.
The weight of heirloom jewels resting against your skin.
The weight of expectations wrapped tighter than the red dupatta covering your head.
I stared at my reflection.
The woman looking back at me was breathtaking.
She just didn't look like me.
The bridal lehenga shimmered beneath the warm lights of the dressing room. Diamonds framed my neck, emeralds rested against my collarbone, and fresh jasmine flowers were woven into my hair.
A queen.
That's what everyone had called me since morning.
No one asked whether queens ever wished to run.
Today wasn't a love story.
It was an agreement between two families powerful enough to shake boardrooms, newspapers, and politics with a single decision.
And somewhere in the middle of that agreement...
...stood me.
Aradhya.
Soon to become Aradhya Aster.
The thought felt unfamiliar.
I traced the ring resting on my finger.
"Congratulations," I whispered to the stranger in the mirror.
"You've just married a man you barely know."
A quiet laugh escaped me.
It sounded hollow.
A knock echoed through the room.
Before I could answer, the door opened.
Leather shoes.
A perfectly tailored black sherwani.
A silver watch that probably cost more than my car.
Raj.
My husband.
His gaze met mine in the mirror.
For a long second...
Neither of us spoke.
"I wasn't expecting to see you before the ceremony ended," I finally said.
"Neither was I."
His voice was calm.
Measured.
Like every word had been rehearsed.
He walked closer, stopping a respectful distance away.
"You look..."
He searched for the right word.
"...beautiful."
I smiled politely.
"You almost sound surprised."
"I don't say things I don't mean."
Silence settled between us.
Not awkward.
Just unfamiliar.
He reached into the pocket of his sherwani and placed a small velvet box on the dressing table.
"What's this?"
"A wedding gift."
I looked at him.
"We've been married for less than an hour."
"I know."
"Then why now?"
"Because after tonight..."
He hesitated.
"...nothing about our lives will belong only to us."
There was something in his expression.
Not fear.
Not regret.
Something heavier.
He took a slow breath.
"I know this marriage wasn't your choice."
"It wasn't yours either."
"No."
Another silence.
Then, for the first time, he looked directly into my eyes.
"I can't promise you a perfect marriage."
"I wasn't expecting one."
"But I can ask you for one thing."
"What?"
He held my gaze.
"No lies between us."
The words hung in the air.
Simple.
Reasonable.
Almost impossible.
I studied his face.
There was sincerity there...
...and something he wasn't saying.
Something hidden just beneath the surface.
I extended my hand.
"No lies."
He shook it.
His hand was warm.
Steady.
But his eyes drifted—just for a second—to the rain-covered window behind me.
As if he were thinking about something far beyond this room.
Or someone.
A knock interrupted the moment.
"The family is waiting," a voice called from outside.
Raj stepped back.
He reached for the door before pausing.
Without turning around, he said quietly,
"If anyone in Aster House tells you not to ask questions..."
He stopped.
"...ask them anyway."
Then he walked out.
Leaving me alone.
With a promise already beginning to feel fragile.
