"Come on, Ishika," Rekha Ji's gentle voice called from the doorway. "It's time."
With a deep breath, Ishika nodded, her heart fluttering. She walked with slow, careful steps down the narrow corridor, her fingers brushing against the soft walls, before she finally reached the staircase.
As she descended, the living room came into view, and there, seated on the plush sofas, were the Rathores. Her gaze instantly locked onto the man at the center. Abhimaan Singh Rathore.
Her heart skipped a beat.
Abhimaan's eyes flickered up just as Ishika entered the room. It was as if the world had momentarily paused. His sharp gaze, which had been aloof and indifferent just moments ago, softened, losing its usual coldness. There was a shift—imperceptible to anyone else but as clear as day to him.
The moment she walked in, Abhimaan's breath hitched, and for a split second, the air around him grew thick, almost suffocating. He had been expecting someone conventional, someone who would be another face in the sea of women he'd seen in his life. But Ishika? She was different. His eyes traced her form as she descended the stairs, and with each step, it felt like time itself slowed.
Ishika was nothing like the women he had seen in high-society events, nothing like the gold-digging women he had learned to distrust. She was... ethereal.
Her beauty was the kind that was quiet, almost unassuming at first glance, but as his gaze lingered, he realized how wrong he had been. She was breathtaking in a way that struck him deep. Her skin was fair, flawless—like the soft petals of a lotus bathed in moonlight. Her face was delicate, with soft features, a small nose, full lips that parted just slightly as she lowered her gaze in nervousness. But it was her eyes—her wide, innocent eyes—that captured him the most. Dark, deep, like pools of midnight, they shimmered with an untainted purity, a warmth that made him feel... something. Something he couldn't place, and didn't want to.
Her long, black hair tumbled down her back in waves, and with each movement, it shimmered in the light like silk. Her slender figure, draped in a simple white dress, added to the delicate aura surrounding her. She didn't need any embellishments, no jewels, no extravagant clothing—her beauty, her presence, were enough to fill the room.
As she approached, her gentle smile was enough to make his chest tighten. Abhimaan swallowed, trying to shake off the feeling that had inexplicably come over him. He was used to being in control of every situation, to studying people, to seeing beyond appearances. But here, in front of this girl—this innocent, pure girl—he found himself... lost.
How could someone be this beautiful and still possess such innocence? His mind screamed at him to look away, to detach himself, but his body refused to obey. His gaze held hers, and for a fleeting moment, he wondered how a person could hold so much purity in their soul.
And for the first time in years, Abhimaan found himself questioning everything. The walls he had carefully built around himself—the armor he wore to protect his heart—seemed suddenly fragile, crumbling with each second he stared at her.
Ishika. That was her name, he realized, though he hadn't yet heard it from her lips. He didn't need to. The way she moved, the way she looked at him, told him everything he needed to know.
But as she lowered her eyes shyly and greeted his family with a soft, trembling voice, Abhimaan's heart continued to race in a way that confused him. This wasn't how things were supposed to be. He was supposed to be indifferent. But this girl? This girl had the power to make his world tilt on its axis
" Khamma Ghani " she said in her soft and clam voice joining her hands making everyone smile and reply
" Ghani khamma beta , aao baitho " said Ridhimaa and smiled warmly at Ishika, but Abhimaan barely registered her words. His entire focus was on the girl sitting next to his mother. She wasn't trying to impress anyone, wasn't putting on a show. There was no arrogance, no pretense—just a quiet, natural grace that stood in sharp contrast to the women he was used to.
With each passing moment, something within him began to change. At first, he thought it was just curiosity—how could someone so pure, so untouched, exist in a world so full of falsehoods? But soon, he realized it was more than that. There was something in the way she spoke, in the way she held herself, that began to stir feelings within him that he hadn't allowed himself to feel in years.
A deep, inexplicable sense of protectiveness washed over him. For the first time in his life, Abhimaan felt as though he needed to shield her from something—something he couldn't name, but that felt incredibly real. His mind, which had always been razor-sharp, seemed to lose its usual control as his thoughts spiraled.
The more she spoke, the more he found himself drawn to her. Every little thing about her—her shy smile, the way she hesitated before speaking, the way her hands rested delicately in her lap—seemed to call out to him. It was as though she was everything he wasn't—a calm, gentle soul untouched by the bitterness of the world.
Abhimaan had always believed that emotions were a weakness. That love, affection, and all those sentiments were nothing more than distractions from one's true purpose. But in that moment, as he watched Ishika speak so softly to his mother, he realized something that shook him to his core.
He wanted her.
Not because his family wanted him to marry her. Not because it was part of some strategic alliance or legacy. No. He wanted her because, for the first time in his life, he felt something genuine stir within him. A desire to protect her, to care for her—something he had never experienced before.
As his mother continued her conversation with Ishika, Abhimaan's mind was no longer focused on the reasons for this arranged marriage. It no longer mattered whether it was a duty, a tradition, or a formality. He wanted her for himself. He needed her in a way he couldn't yet fully understand.
And that was a feeling he couldn't ignore.
The conversation between his mother and Ishika continued, but for Abhimaan, it was as if the rest of the world had faded into the background. His focus was solely on Ishika—the girl who had unknowingly shattered the walls he had so carefully built around himself. Dada hukum noticed how Abhimaan is looking at ishika right at that moment he understood that he was right Ishika is the one for Abhimaan.
As the meeting came to an end, and the Rathore family stood to leave, Abhimaan's heart raced in a way he couldn't explain. He had already made up his mind. This wasn't just about fulfilling his family's expectations anymore.
He was going to marry her.
Abhimaan turned to face her. For the first time, his voice softened as he spoke.
"Ishika," he said, his tone measured yet sincere. "I believe we should move forward with this marriage. If you agree, I am willing to make this commitment."
Ishika looked at him, her heart beating rapidly in her chest. She had heard his words, and the weight of them hit her all at once. She had spent so many years wondering if love would ever find her—if she would ever be chosen, seen, or understood. And now, standing before Abhimaan Rathore, she realized that this might be her reality.
Her hand trembled slightly as she folded her palms together. Her gaze flickered to the ground, then back up at him. Despite the apprehension swirling inside her, there was a quiet acceptance in her heart.
"I agree," she said softly, her voice barely a whisper.
The words seemed to hang in the air, almost surreal. The agreement had been made—not out of overwhelming passion or love, but out of something deeper, something that neither of them could yet fully understand.
Abhimaan's gaze softened just a fraction, and for the first time since meeting Ishika, he allowed himself a small, fleeting smile. It wasn't a smile of joy, but something else—something unreadable, like a promise to protect what had been silently kindled between them.
Abhimaan gave a short nod but didn't say anything further. His mind was racing, his emotions conflicting. He had agreed, and so had she. But as he looked at Ishika, the girl with the soft, unassuming presence, he couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of a much more beautiful journey than he had anticipated.
And as the Rathore family made their way to the door, ready to leave the orphanage, a quiet understanding passed between them.
Write a comment ...