The moment Suryansh stepped inside the house, his eyes instinctively went to Vidya’s face. He had known her long enough to read her expressions without effort. Within seconds, he understood that something was wrong. The tension in her eyes, the stiffness in her posture, and the forced calm in her behavior told him that she was far more disturbed than she was willing to admit.

Without wasting time, he walked in, removed his suit jacket, and placed it neatly on the side. Then he lowered himself near her feet and began massaging them gently, his touch light and comforting.

“Hey, beautiful,” he said softly, a teasing warmth in his voice. “Why are you so tense today? If you keep worrying like this, how will you stay this gorgeous?”

Vidya looked at him with tired irritation and replied, “Ansh, please. I am really not in the mood for your jokes today. My mood is already terrible, so don’t try to make fun of me right now.”

From her tone alone, he could sense how deeply upset she was. Instead of getting serious, he smiled lightly, which only made her glare at him. She knew him too well. Whenever she was slightly disturbed, he somehow found amusement in teasing her even more.

Before she could say anything else, Virendra came and sat beside his sister. He gave Suryansh a warning look, silently telling him to stop. Understanding the signal, Suryansh said nothing further and continued massaging Vidya’s feet quietly.

At that moment, Durga came and sat down as well. Almost immediately, she began muttering under her breath.

“I never understood the ways of this house, and now I am too old to even try,” she complained. “No matter what you say, someone gets offended. You try to explain, and they take it the wrong way.”

Suryansh glanced at his grandmother, about to respond, when Chetna quickly stepped in. She brought a glass of water, placed Durga’s feet gently in her lap, and started massaging them with care.

“Maa, I don’t understand why you are so worried,” Chetna said sweetly. “Vidya didi will listen to you. She always does.”

Durga’s expression hardened.

“If she really listened, she would not be sitting here unmarried,” she replied bitterly. “She would have been married by now, settled in her own house, and planned her children’s weddings instead of attending other people’s functions.”

“Maa…” Virendra said sharply.

That single word was enough to silence the room.

Vidya lowered her gaze and did not look at her mother. Suryansh immediately noticed the pain on her face. He stopped massaging her feet and moved closer, sitting beside her in quiet support.

Just then, Ved and Vedanshi entered the room. The moment Vedanshi saw Vidya’s troubled expression, she rolled her eyes in annoyance and walked away without saying anything.

Chetna gently placed Durga’s feet back down and said casually, “She must be hungry. She has just come home and has been studying all day. I will serve her food. You know how serious she is about her studies.”

Hearing this, Ved chuckled softly but quickly took out his phone and immersed himself in his game. Vidya watched him closely. Ved noticed her gaze and immediately looked up.

“Please, aunty,” he said hurriedly. “I would love to come with you, but I have a huge gaming challenge right now. I also need to complete the file dad gave me. It is new work, and I am struggling with it. So please don’t look at me like that.”

Durga’s face brightened instantly.

“See how hardworking he is,” she said proudly, tapping her walking stick lightly. “And look at you. You want to take him to some friend’s son’s wedding. If you don’t go, the wedding will still happen. You are sitting here as if your own son is getting married.”

Suryansh had heard enough. Without saying anything, he picked up the invitation card lying on the table and studied the date carefully. Then he took out his phone and called his assistant.

“Hello, Shekhar,” he said firmly. “From March first to March seventh, I do not want any work scheduled. I need to go somewhere urgently, and I do not want any disturbance during that time.”

Vidya looked at him in surprise. The next moment, a soft smile appeared on her face. Before she could speak, Sneha walked in and addressed Vidya enthusiastically.

“I have arranged everything for your outfits,” Sneha said warmly. “I know which functions are there and what you will wear. All the deliveries will arrive tomorrow. For the groom, I have ordered a platinum chain. The jeweler will come tomorrow, and you can choose what you like. For the bride, I have selected a beautiful diamond necklace myself and made some small changes to it. You will receive it before you leave so you can give it during the ceremony.”

Hearing this, Vidya immediately stood up and hugged Sneha tightly.

“Thank you, Bhabhi,” she said emotionally.

Durga watched them with an unreadable expression, muttering softly under her breath. Ved, however, looked relieved. He glanced at Suryansh and thanked him silently with his eyes. Suryansh smiled back and gave him a thumbs-up, assuring him that everything was taken care of.

Chetna, who had arranged the food and was walking toward her daughter’s room, paused for a moment. She looked at Sneha and Vidya closely. There was no smile on her face. She simply kept staring at them, her eyes filled with thoughts she never allowed to surface.

In that house, happiness was often celebrated loudly. But resentment was always hidden quietly.

******

Pragya stood near the wardrobe, smiling softly as she watched Gunjal drape one saree after another over herself. Each time, Gunjal turned around eagerly, waiting for Pragya’s reaction, her eyes filled with excitement and hope. Pragya responded with warm smiles and gentle nods, making her feel more confident and beautiful with every choice. She occasionally adjusted the fabric on Gunjal’s shoulder or straightened the pleats, guiding her with quiet care, as if she were preparing her own sister for an important day.

“Bhabhi, how does this one look?” Gunjal asked, holding a pastel-colored saree against herself.

Pragya observed her carefully for a moment before replying, “It looks lovely on you. It suits you perfectly. Simple, graceful, and elegant, just like you.”

Hearing this, Gunjal smiled brightly and immediately picked up another saree, eager to see herself in a different color and design. Her laughter and playful movements filled the room with lightness, making the atmosphere warm and cheerful.

Nearby, Geeta stood silently, watching the two of them with overflowing emotions. In her mind, she imagined her daughter wearing each of those sarees during different wedding rituals, greeting relatives, smiling shyly beside her husband, and stepping into a new phase of her life. Those images felt so real that her heart tightened with both happiness and sadness. She was proud of her daughter, grateful for her journey so far, and yet deeply emotional about the distance that marriage would soon create between them.

Without realizing it, her eyes became moist, and tears slowly gathered at the corners. She quickly wiped them away with the edge of her dupatta, not wanting anyone to notice, but her smile remained steady and sincere. For Geeta, those sarees were not merely clothes. They were symbols of memories waiting to be created, dreams carefully woven into fabric, and silent blessings she wished to wrap around her daughter’s future. As she continued watching Gunjal laugh and admire herself in the mirror, she prayed quietly that her daughter’s life would always be as beautiful and gentle as she looked in that moment.

The moment Aakash returned from the office and stepped into the room, his eyes fell on Gunjal, who was standing in front of the mirror, trying different sarees with excitement. For a second, he paused, surprised by the sight. Then a smile slowly appeared on his face, and he said warmly,

“Wow… I never knew you could look this beautiful.”

Gunjal smiled shyly at his words. Talking to her brother often gave her a strange sense of comfort. With him, she sometimes felt safe enough to be herself, to laugh freely, and to share small thoughts without fear. Yet, at the same time, she was always careful around him, knowing that the same brother who praised her so gently could also scold her sharply the next moment. Still, compared to her father, Aakash felt easier to approach. Her heart feared her father deeply, but with her brother, she could at least gather the courage to speak her mind sometimes.

Aakash’s gaze then shifted toward Pragya, who was standing nearby, carefully arranging the sarees on the bed. She was folding them neatly and placing them in order, making sure none of them got wrinkled. Watching her for a moment, Aakash softened slightly before turning back toward the pile of clothes.

He picked up one of the sarees from the bed, a deep red one with delicate embroidery, and held it up thoughtfully. Looking at Gunjal, he asked with mild curiosity and a hint of admiration,

“Is this one yours too?”

Gunjal shook her head gently and replied with a playful smile, “No, I ordered some sarees for Bhabhi as well and asked her to choose for herself, but she keeps saying she cannot decide what to wear. So right now, she only wants to focus on my sarees. Now you tell me, this one is so beautiful. Shouldn’t she take it?”

Aakash looked at the red saree still in his hands and then at the others spread neatly across the bed. Without speaking immediately, he began examining them carefully. The designs were elegant, the colors rich, and the detailing refined. Each saree seemed thoughtfully chosen, reflecting both taste and effort. For a moment, his expression changed from casual curiosity to genuine appreciation.

“They are all impressive,” he admitted, glancing once at Pragya, who was still quietly arranging the fabrics. She avoided meeting his eyes, but the slight curve of her lips revealed that she had heard everything.

Without wasting another second, Aakash took out his phone. Since the sarees had come from his own store, he directly called his manager. His tone was firm but satisfied.

“The sarees you sent home today, I am keeping all of them,” he said clearly. “Do not return anything. Tomorrow, bring me the details of the new stock. I need something even better. I want to pick out a few special pieces for my wife.”

There was no hesitation in his voice. No calculation. It was a straightforward decision.

Gunjal looked at him in surprise, then at Pragya, whose hands paused for a fraction of a second before continuing their careful work. There was something unspoken in that moment. Aakash could be sharp, impatient, and dominant in many situations, but when it came to providing, he never compromised. His love did not always sound gentle, but it often expressed itself through action.

Gunjal’s eyes softened as she watched him. Moments like these reassured her that her brother’s harshness was not the whole story. And Pragya, though silent, understood that beneath his authority and temper, there existed a form of care that was clumsy, imperfect, yet real.

Geeta smiled softly, touched by the warmth in the room. Seeing her smile, Aakash immediately picked up two sarees from the bed and walked toward her. Holding them up thoughtfully, he said with confidence, “These two will look wonderful on you. Just choose one, and I will arrange everything for you right away. After all, what is the use of having so many connections if they never come in handy?”

He paused for a moment and added with playful seriousness, “And please do not start with your old line that you already have enough sarees. Of course you do. We have ten stores in Ajmer and a strong reputation in Jaipur as well. If even our own family wears ordinary sarees, what will people think? Your sarees should represent our work. They should reflect our standard.”

Geeta listened to him with a gentle smile, her heart filled with quiet pride. She did not argue. She knew this was his way of caring, expressed through practicality and authority rather than soft words. As she took the sarees from his hands, her gaze slowly shifted toward Pragya.

She observed her daughter-in-law carefully.

Geeta could clearly see that as the wedding approached, Pragya was growing more and more restless. Her smiles were still present, but they no longer reached her eyes. There was a constant tension in her posture, a silent worry that never seemed to leave her. Geeta’s eyes then moved toward Aakash, who was standing nearby, unaware that he was being watched so closely.

She knew that Aakash understood Pragya’s anxiety. He noticed it. He sensed it. But he never knew how to express comfort through words. Emotional reassurance was something he had never learned. Instead, he tried to show his concern through actions, through responsibilities, through providing security. It was not perfect, but it was genuine.

And for that, Geeta was grateful.

At least he was not like her husband, who constantly focused on flaws and mistakes. Aakash, despite his temper, tried to understand his wife. He did not reduce her to her shortcomings. He saw her struggles, even if he did not always know how to ease them.

It had been five years since their marriage.

In their second year, Pragya had conceived. For a brief period, their house had been filled with hope and excitement. But complications had taken everything away. The miscarriage had left behind not only physical pain but emotional wounds that never truly healed. Since then, Pragya had not been able to conceive again.

No one spoke about it openly.

But everyone remembered.

And now, with Gunjal’s wedding approaching, Geeta knew what awaited Pragya. Relatives would come with smiles and hidden curiosity. Questions would be asked in polite tones. Advice would be offered without being requested. Sympathy would be disguised as concern.

All of it would hurt.

Because of this, even though Pragya was genuinely happy for her sister-in-law, she was also deeply anxious. The wedding reminded her of everything she had lost and everything she feared she might never have.

Geeta watched her quietly, wishing she could protect her from those unspoken judgments, just as she had always tried to protect her daughter.

In that room filled with colorful fabrics and cheerful preparations, there existed invisible burdens that no one spoke about.

Yet everyone carried on.