The soft rustle of chiffon and silk floated through the bridal suite as Ira clasped the final earring into Mansi’s ear.

Mansi, dressed in a sea green lehenga with delicate pearl tassels and a sheer organza cape cascading from her shoulders, beamed at her reflection. Her eyes sparkled—today she wasn’t just a bride-to-be, she was a dream blooming into reality.

“I swear,” Ira said gently, adjusting a loose curl near Mansi’s cheek, “you look like someone who just stepped out of a fairytale.”

Mansi giggled and spun slightly, her skirt flaring in a gentle twirl. “You think I look beautiful?”

“You look beyond beautiful,” Ira smiled warmly. “I don’t think I’ve seen you smile like this before.”

Mansi hugged her impulsively. “And now I’m even happier because my favorite Dii is going to be my bhabhi too! Officially!”

Ira froze for a heartbeat.

Favorite Dii.. Bhabhi.

She forced a smile. “You’re too sweet.”

But something sank inside her chest. A weight, small and sharp.

How do I pretend to be something I’m not?

How do I become a wife in a story I never chose to write?

Still, Ira looked flawless.

She wore an ivory Indo-Western pre-draped navy-blue outfit with a shrug – crystal embroidery at the collarbone. A diamond earcuff wrapped around one ear, her hair in a wavy half-up bun. Soft makeup, wine-tinted lips, and heels that clicked with quiet authority.

She looked like elegance personified. But her eyes? Her eyes were tired of hiding.

---

Meanwhile — Varun’s Room

“Beta,” Varun’s mother said as she pinned a brooch to his pastel green kurta-jacket set, “I hope you’ll keep Ira happy. She’s a good girl.”

Varun smiled—boyish, yet proud. “I know, Maa. I really like her. She’s calm. Collected. She listens more than she speaks. And I promise—I'll keep her happy.”

His mother touched his cheek. “Then go get your sister and your would be wife. They must be ready by now.”

---

Reyansh — Alone, Yet Not at Peace

Reyansh stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the buttons of his black kurta which was paired with a black jacket . He didn’t bother fixing his tousled hair—it fell the same way it always did.

But something was wrong. Something gnawed at him.

That fake smile. Ira’s smile.

It replayed in his head like a broken loop.

Why did it feel like it had everything to do with him?

---

Arrival at the Venue

Varun reached the suite. When he saw Mansi, his eyes softened.

“My little angel’s growing up too fast,” he said, kissing her forehead. “You look... beyond beautiful.”

Mansi giggled. “Drama queen.”

Then he turned to Ira.

“And you… you look like grace and poetry in motion.”

Ira smiled. “Thank you.”

But her heart whispered: Don’t say things that make this harder.

---

The Grand Sangeet Begins

The lights dimmed again as the stage lit up with sparkling spotlights. A joyful host announced the start of the sangeet, and cheers echoed around the grand venue.

The families sat together at the front tables, clapping and smiling. One by one, family members came forward for their performances—playful dances, medleys, laughter filling the air.

Then the host's voice boomed:

“Now, the moment everyone’s been waiting for! A very special couple—Mansi and Ishan!”

Soft romantic beats began playing—a mashup of modern love songs:

[“Raanjhanaa Hua Main Tera” melting into

“Kesariya Tera Ishq Hai Piya”

then smoothly blending into

“Tum Se Hi” from Jab We Met]

{Play this songs for better understanding)

Mansi and Ishan danced like the world wasn’t watching. Playful eye contact, inside jokes, and deep, unspoken affection. The entire crowd watched in awe.

---

Reyansh Returns — And Sees Her

From a distance, behind the last row, Reyansh stood quietly—emotion buried behind a stone face. But when his eyes found Ira, clapping in that crystal-draped wear, he couldn’t look away.

She smiled. But not with her heart.

Something inside him twisted.

---

Ira's Solo Performance

Then the host spoke again.

> “Next up, we have someone very special… Ida, our favourite!”

Cheers.

Ira stepped onto the stage.

The music began. A slow, graceful intro:

[“Agar Tum Saath Ho”

then transitioned into

“Nainowale Ne”, and finally picked up pace into

“Param Sundari”]—bold, fierce, stunning.

(Play this songs for better enjoyment)

She danced not to impress—but to feel. To breathe. To exist.

Reyansh? He was shattered watching her.

She was everything. And she wasn’t his.

---

The Truth About Her Past

As the performance ended, the crowd roared with applause.

Just then, Ira’s mother stood up and spoke to the family

> “She’s always loved dancing… But we could never afford classes due to the financial crisis. It’s like dance was the first love for her which she had to sacrifice . Watching her today... it feels like a dream which was once buried.”

Reyansh felt his heart fall into pieces.

> “She gave it all up. Even her dance. And still, she smiles like the world owes her nothing.”

---

The Couple Dance

“Now for our final performance—our new couple! Varun and Ira!”

The crowd cheered again.

Varun held out his hand. Ira hesitated, then placed hers gently in his.

The song was soft and slow:

[“Jeene Laga Hoon Pehle Se Zyada”]

(Play this song)

They danced.

Graceful. Perfectly choreographed.

But it wasn’t magic.

Because Ira’s eyes… were searching for someone else.

Across the crowd, her gaze met Reyansh’s.

He wasn’t clapping.

He wasn’t smiling.

He was burning.

Fury danced in his eyes—but it wasn’t hate.

Then what it was?

And Ira didn’t know why that hurt more than it should have.

AFTER IRA & VARUN’S DANCE – PUBLIC PRAISE THAT BROKE HIM

As the music faded, Varun gently let go of Ira’s hand, smiling at her as the crowd applauded. She stepped back—elegant and poised—but her heart wasn’t in the cheers.

That’s when Varun’s mother walked to the stage, taking the mic with a glowing smile.

> “Ladies and gentlemen, I just want to take a moment to introduce someone very special. This is Ira—our would-be daughter-in-law, the soon-to-be bride of my son, Varun.”

Applause erupted around the hall.

> “She’s not just beautiful, as you all can see—she’s intelligent, accomplished, and strong. She’s the CEO of ITA Industries. She runs a company with grace and confidence. She’s everything we ever wished for in a daughter. And she’s perfect for our Varun.”

The audience clapped louder. Some stood.

People turned to smile at Ira.

She smiled back.

But it wasn’t real.

It was polite. Quiet. Hollow.

And somewhere at the back, Reyansh heard it all.

Every. Single. Word.

He stood frozen, his jaw clenched so tight his teeth ached.

Perfect for Varun.

Soon-to-be bride.

Not yours.

He walked out—silently. His heart thundered in his chest as he stepped into the hallway, entered the restroom, and locked the door behind him.

And then, with no one watching—he punched the wall.

Hard.

Knuckles scraped. Skin bruised.

But nothing hurt more than what was echoing inside his chest.

His reflection stared back at him, eyes glassy with rage and grief.

> “Why now? Why her? Why again?”

“It’s love.”

“It’s not just a feeling anymore… and it’s already out of control.”

“First love was incomplete… and now when I’ve fallen again—deeply, madly—she’s someone else’s bride."

He stared into the mirror, voice low and cracking as he whispered:

> “Not again…”

“I can’t do this again.”