Twenty Hours to Forever
His hands explored my body with increasing urgency—gentle, but insistent. If not for my resistance, I knew he would've taken things further.
"Aarav… just one more day," I whispered, placing my hands on his chest to steady him—and myself. "We'll have all the time in the world after that."
"Twenty hours, seven minutes, and thirty-three seconds," he replied.
I blinked, surprised. "What are you counting?"
"The time left until you're mine… officially."
"Someone's getting excited," I teased, smiling.
He leaned in, his breath brushing my ear. "Of course I am. I've waited so long… it's getting hard to be patient. So why don't you help me out?"
I pushed him away playfully. "Nope. Not happening."
He pouted dramatically, his sulky expression strangely adorable. "Fine. Just a kiss, then. One kiss. Please?"
I kept a straight face, though I was grinning inside. "Still no. That's a big NO."
With a dramatic sigh, he stomped his foot like a child denied his favorite candy. "Fine! I'll leave. But remember this, Miss Arundhati Iyer—you'll owe me tomorrow."
He moved toward the balcony, but before he could climb down, I grabbed his arm.
"I will," I said softly, and kissed his cheek.
He froze, then turned back with the most radiant smile I'd ever seen. "I'll be waiting," he whispered, and vanished into the night.
---
The Golden Groom
Aarav Trivedi—my fiancé. A man every girl dreamed of marrying. He had it all: charm, elegance, kindness, and above all, the one thing I cherished most—a good heart, and a good family.
The Trivedis were powerful and respected in the business world. Aarav's father, Kailashnath Trivedi, was a man of generosity and wisdom. Though father and son often clashed, their similarities were impossible to ignore.
When Aarav proposed, it stunned us all. We barely knew each other back then. I was an ordinary girl with ordinary dreams—not someone you'd expect the country's most eligible bachelor to want.
But he did.
And over time, we grew close. Ours wasn't purely arranged, nor purely romantic—it was a perfect mix of both.
Today, we would be married. Finally.
---
The Bridal Room – 7:00 PM
"Arundhati, you look stunning! If Aarav sees you now, he'll freeze on the spot," Mila gushed.
"Forget freezing," another friend added, then stopped with a smirk. "He'll want to whisk her away before the ceremony even starts."
"Alright, enough teasing," my mother said, laughing as she walked in with a small copper vessel. "Aru, drink this—it's the sacred water your grandfather brought back. For strength and blessings."
"Yes, Mother." I took the water and drank it, even as the girls continued teasing.
"Auntie, is this holy water for inner strength or… stamina?" one of them giggled.
My mother smiled patiently. "When Aarav and Arundhati's horoscopes were matched, we discovered an obstacle in their union. To remedy it, her grandfather performed a pooja and brought this water from a sacred place. It's tradition, nothing else."
The teasing faded as reverence settled in. They soon left, and I was alone in the room.
---
Some time passed.
My mother returned to check on me—and found me lying on the floor.
"Aru!" she cried, rushing over. "What happened? Are you alright?"
I blinked groggily, slowly sitting up. "I'm fine, Mom. I think the stress and exhaustion caught up with me."
"It happens," she said gently, helping me up. "Are you sure you're okay now?"
"Absolutely."
Just then—honk, honk.
We both smiled.
We knew exactly who that was.
---
At the Mandap
The venue buzzed with excitement—until confusion silenced the crowd.
Only Aarav stepped through the entrance.
No friends. No relatives. No family.
Just him.
My father, Vijay, rushed forward in concern. "Aarav, what's going on? Where is your father? Where's everyone else?"
Aarav grinned, brushing the concern off. "Uncle, why are you so worried about them? I'm the one getting married, remember? I'm the lead character—those others? Just side roles."
Vijay's face darkened. "Aarav, this isn't the time for jokes. Where is Kailashnath ji? I'll call him right now—"
Before he could finish, Aarav snatched the phone from his hand.
"I told you, Uncle. They're irrelevant today. Let's go to Arundhati. She must be waiting." He pulled my father along with him, clutching a small ceremonial pot in his other hand.
Reporters and photographers began to murmur, their cameras trained on us. Something felt… off. Very off.
When he reached me, Aarav turned and smiled as if nothing was wrong.
"You look breathtaking, Arundhati."
Then he turned to the priest. "Start the mantras."
The priest hesitated, uncertain about the situation.
Seeing the delay, Aarav turned back, his tone sharper now. "What, priest? Forgot the mantras already? I knew this would happen. That's why I recorded them in advance. How thoughtful, right?"
His grin was no longer charming. It was unsettling. Off-balance. Wrong.
"Aarav," I said cautiously, stepping forward. "What are you doing? This isn't funny. Whatever prank you're playing—please stop."
He didn't flinch. Didn't soften.
Without meeting my eyes, he pulled out his phone, pressed play, and let the mechanical voice of the recording chant the sacred mantras.
"Arundhati," he said coldly, "I'm getting married. To you. Right now."