The Ceasefire
(Her POV)
The first thing I notice after the sacred fire is not him.
It’s the weight of the knife strapped to my thigh.
Gold silk clings to my skin, heavy with embroidery meant to symbolize prosperity, fertility, forever. The irony almost makes me smile. Underneath six layers of tradition, I am armed. Prepared. Married with intent.
The priest chants blessings as if words can sanctify a lie this deep.
I glance at the man beside me—my husband.
Aarav Malhotra stands perfectly still, tall and immaculate in ivory, jaw sharp enough to cut. From the outside, he looks like every mother’s dream alliance and every rival’s nightmare. From the inside, I know better.
He is the enemy my family raised me to destroy.
Our eyes meet for half a second—just long enough to acknowledge the truth we will never speak aloud.
This marriage is a ceasefire, not peace.
The vermilion touches my hairline. Applause erupts. Cameras flash. Somewhere in the crowd, powerful men smile, convinced they have ended a war with flowers and vows.
They are wrong.
I don’t hate Aarav Malhotra.
Hatred is loud. Emotional. Reckless.
What I feel is colder.
Calculated.
Tonight, after the guests leave and the doors close and the world believes we belong to each other, I will finally understand the layout of the man I am meant to kill.
And I know—because I see it in the way his fingers brush mine, controlled but alert—that he is doing the exact same thing.
Later, in the backseat of the car that carries us away from the wedding, silence stretches between us like a drawn blade.
“You don’t have to pretend,” he says calmly, eyes fixed ahead.
“Pretend what?” I ask.
“That this changes anything.”
I turn to him then. Really look at him. Not as a headline. Not as a threat. But as a man who understands war the way I do.
“It changes everything,” I reply softly. “Just not in the way they think.”
For the first time, his lips curve—not into a smile, but something sharper.
“Good,” he says. “I’d hate to be bored in my own marriage.”
The car disappears into the night.
Neither of us notices the shadow following behind.
Your story is beautifully written. The emotions flow so naturally that every scene feels alive and vivid. The writing truly pulls the reader in and stays with them even after finishing. It’s genuinely wonderful work. My contact details are available in the About section of my profile.