Chapter 1:
It was early morning. The world was still wrapped in the softness of dawn — a gentle hush filled the air, broken only by the sweet, rhythmic chirping of birds. Everything felt peaceful on the outside… but inside me, a storm was brewing.
I stood in front of the mirror, trying to steady my breath as I got ready — because today was my wedding day.
And not just any wedding — I was about to marry a girl I had met just a week ago.
It sounds absurd, I know. But this wasn't the kind of love story people write poems about. This was a story born out of pressure — a pressure that had been slowly tightening around me for months, maybe even years.
My family had been relentless. The conversations, the taunts, the emotional manipulation — it all built up to this one choice: either I marry now, or they would do everything in their power to force me into a marriage with a man. That threat hung over me like a sword. I knew they'd follow through. They always do.
And maybe, just maybe, a part of me had grown tired of resisting.
I've never been someone people stick around for. My nature — complicated, guarded, maybe even a little rough around the edges — has driven people away. Some girls stayed just long enough to get what they wanted from me and left without a second thought. Others walked away in anger when they couldn't change me. They all came and went like passing seasons… none of them ever truly stayed.
So when this proposal came — sudden and strange as it was — I didn't fight it. I couldn't. I didn't want to face the other option.
As I adjusted the crisp white blazer I was wearing, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. It looked good on me — better than I expected. Clean lines, sharp shoulders, soft fabric. There was something powerful about it, something that made me feel a little more in control… even if it was all just an illusion.
I wasn't dressing up for love. I wasn't walking into a dream. I was stepping into survival.
All I could do now was hope — no, pray — that the next two years go by quietly. Peacefully. That somehow, I find a way to live through this choice without losing more pieces of myself.
I don't know what lies ahead. I don't even know if she'll understand me — this stranger who's about to become my wife.
But right now, I just need time. I just need space. I just need these two years to pass without more damage.
That's all I ask. Just two years… and maybe, a little bit of peace.
"Ved, hurry up! We have to leave!"
Her voice echoed down the hallway before she even reached the door. It was Mia — my best friend, my chaos, my calm… and the one person I could never lie to.
Except… today, I was lying.
She didn't know. She didn't know that I was about to marry someone I didn't love. She didn't know that this entire wedding was a compromise — a calculated escape from family pressure, expectations, and the suffocating weight of being constantly told who I should be.
And the worst part? She didn't know she was the reason behind this ache in my chest.
Because once — not so long ago — I had gone to her with the intention of proposing.
I had rehearsed the words a thousand times in my head. Imagined how she might smile, maybe cry, maybe even laugh in surprise. But just as I opened my mouth to speak, she beat me to it…
"You're like a sister to me, Ved."
One sentence. That's all it took.
The ring never left my pocket. The words died in my throat. And I smiled — like it didn't break something inside me.
Now, as she barged into my room, full of life and urgency, she had no idea how tightly I was holding myself together.
"Vedu! Come on! The time is slipping away," she said, hands on her hips, looking every bit like the bossy best friend she had always been.
I let out a breath. "Yeah, I'm coming… just give me a second."
She rolled her eyes. "Ved, seriously? The priest has other ceremonies to perform today. And your bride is already waiting for you. You better hurry up and marry her — after that, you still have to deal with your family drama!"
I walked toward her slowly and cupped her cheeks with both hands. A soft smile tugged at my lips. "I know, Mia… I know. But don't forget — we're in England. My family's not here. Not right now."
Her eyes softened for a moment, then she asked gently, "But Ved… won't they be upset with you?"
I nodded. "They will be. But once they accept this marriage… I'll introduce them to their real daughter-in-law."
Her brows pulled together in confusion. "Real daughter-in-law? What do you mean by that?"
I froze. For a split second, I forgot how to lie.
But then I laughed and waved her off. "Oh, Mia! You and your endless questions! Come on now, or we'll miss the wedding entirely."
She narrowed her eyes suspiciously but didn't press further.
We walked side by side down the hallway, and I tried not to think about how differently this day could have looked. I tried not to think about how I wanted to be walking down the aisle with her.
But she had called me sister.
And now I was walking toward someone else — someone who didn't know my heart didn't belong to her.
Not yet, anyway.
I sat beside Mia in the backseat of the cab as we headed toward the church. The world outside rushed by — trees blurred into shades of green and gold, the early morning sun painting the roads in a soft, warm light. But inside me, everything felt tight. Heavy. My hands rested nervously on my lap, fingers tapping against each other as my heart continued its anxious rhythm.
Mia glanced at me and asked casually, "Don't you think that once your family meets Sita, they'll want to arrange a traditional Indian wedding too?"
I looked at her for a moment, then gave a small smile. "Mia, in our culture, it's believed that marriage happens only once. They won't ask for another ceremony. They'll struggle enough to accept this one."
She nodded thoughtfully. "Hmm… yeah, that makes sense."
I appreciated her not pushing the topic further. It was hard enough navigating this wedding as it was. I wasn't ready to think about facing my family's expectations just yet.
When we finally reached the church, my eyes immediately scanned the area. The guests were still trickling in, the decorators were making last-minute touches, and the air carried that sacred quietness that places of worship always have.
But… Sita wasn't there.
My heart skipped a beat.
She wasn't inside. Not near the entrance. Not anywhere I looked.
A sliver of panic slipped into my chest. What if she doesn't come?
What if she changed her mind?
What if her family found out and stopped her?
Minutes ticked by slowly, each second a stone dragging me deeper into dread. Five minutes passed. Still no sign of her. The whispers around me faded into a low hum as all I could hear was the pounding of my heart.
Then — my phone rang.
Sita.
I answered it in an instant, barely breathing. "Hello?"
Her voice came through, rushed and breathless. "Ved… my cousins… they followed me. I'm just outside the church, but I can't come in. Please… do something."
A wave of relief crashed over me, stealing my breath for a moment.
She was here. She hadn't left. She still wanted this.
"Sita, don't worry," I said, my voice firming with urgency. "I'm coming. I'll get you in. Just stay there. I promise, I won't let anything happen."
And just like that, the hesitation I'd been carrying all morning vanished.
This wasn't just about fear anymore.
This was about courage.
This was about us.
Just as I was about to rush outside to save Sita, a terrifying realization hit me like cold water — I don't even know how to fight.
What was I thinking? Running out there with nothing but adrenaline and a vague plan? I wasn't a fighter. I had never been in a physical confrontation in my life.
Panic started to creep in again, but then I remembered — Sasha.
Mia's girlfriend. Former kickboxer. Brave, sharp, and could probably knock someone out with just one glare. Without wasting another second, I quickly called her. "Sasha, please come to the church — it's urgent. Sita's outside and in trouble. I need backup."
She didn't ask any questions. Just said, "On my way," and hung up.
With that small sliver of assurance, I pushed open the church doors and stepped out into the bright daylight, pulling my phone out to call Sita again. My hands trembled slightly as the line rang — once, twice… no answer.
Damn.
Just then, I felt a hand grab mine.
Before I could scream or react, I was pulled swiftly behind a parked car.
My heart thudded against my ribs until I saw her face — Sita.
Her eyes were wide, breath ragged, hair a little messy from running. She was scared, but she was here.
"Where are your cousins?" I whispered, peering around anxiously.
Without saying a word, she pointed straight ahead.
And when I turned to look…
My breath caught in my throat.
There they were — three men, tall, broad, and built like actual bouncers from a nightclub. They looked angry, pacing like lions ready to pounce.
This… was bad. Really bad.
I exhaled slowly, turned to Sita and muttered, "The wedding's cancelled."
"What?" she asked, eyes narrowing.
I nodded dramatically. "Cancelled. I'm not fighting those guys. No way. I'll find someone else to marry. Maybe a girl with peaceful parents and cousins who don't look like professional wrestlers."
And before I could say anything else — SMACK!
She slapped me. Right across the face.
It wasn't hard enough to hurt, but it stung in all the ways that weren't physical. I blinked at her, stunned.
Then she said something I'll never forget.
"If the person waiting out there was the one you truly loved… would you still be backing out like this?"
Her words struck deeper than her hand ever could.
For a moment, I couldn't speak.
Because the truth? The brutal, heartbreaking truth…
No.
If someone I loved had been the one waiting out there — I would've gone through anything. I wouldn't have thought twice. Not even if an entire army stood in my way.
And suddenly… I wasn't scared of her cousins anymore.
I was scared of myself — scared of the fact that I was about to hurt someone who loved me… because I hadn't fully let go of someone who never would.
I looked at Sita — the fear in her eyes, the strength in her presence — and something inside me shifted.
No more backing down.
No more second-guessing.
Taking a deep breath, I stepped out from behind the car like some overconfident action movie hero — except I was shaking inside and had absolutely no fighting experience. But my heart was screaming at me to protect her.
As I approached one of her cousins — the tallest one — he turned to face me.
His name was Omkar, and he looked like he could lift me with one hand and toss me across the street. He towered over me, at least two heads taller. His arms were thick, covered in veins, and his expression? Cold. Furious.
All my bravery dissolved in a second.
I lowered myself slightly, hands in front of me, and said with the politest voice I could muster,
"Elder brother… I love your sister. Truly. I will keep her happy for the rest of my life. Please… let this marriage happen."
There was a second of silence. I had no idea if he was about to laugh… or punch me into the next century.
Before I could find out —
WHAM!
A sudden punch landed right on his jaw.
But it wasn't from me.
It was from Sita.
Without hesitation, she stepped forward, her eyes blazing.
"Don't even think about touching my future wife — or husband — or whatever label you're trying to figure out!" she snapped, voice trembling with emotion.
"I respected you as my brother. That's why I didn't say anything. But not anymore. Stay. Away. From. Us."
I stared at her, stunned, overwhelmed by the fierce love she carried in her fists and her words.
But Omkar wasn't done.
Furious, humiliated, and boiling with rage, he lifted his hand and slapped Sita hard across the face.
My breath caught. That was it. That was too much.
Without thinking, I grabbed a nearby stick lying near a flower stand — maybe meant for decoration — and swung it with all the strength I had left.
CRACK!
It hit Omkar's head squarely.
He stumbled. His eyes widened — and then he fell to the ground.
The world froze for a moment.
I was panting. My hands were shaking. My legs felt like jelly. But he was down. He was down.
Then… more of her cousins appeared. Three. Maybe four. I couldn't even count them through the haze of panic.
I turned to Sita. "Do you think we'll even get married today?"
She smirked through the bruise forming on her cheek.
"Oh, we will get married. Today. No matter what."
And just as the crowd started closing in —
A car door slammed.
Sasha had arrived.
With backup. Three women and two men, all dressed in black, like they had just walked off the set of a spy movie.
Without wasting a second, Sasha launched herself into the chaos. She kicked, blocked, punched — and her team followed, handling Sita's cousins like trained warriors.
She turned to us in the middle of the scuffle and yelled,
"I got this! You two — GO! Get married! Before more drama shows up!"
We didn't think twice.
We grabbed each other's hands and ran.
Towards the church.
Towards our vows.
Towards the beginning of a love neither of us expected… but were now ready to fight the whole world for.
To be continue....