- Time skip -

The morning of the reception finally arrived, and the Dhillon household was—unsurprisingly—buzzing with activity. Yet compared to its usual chaos, things seemed oddly calmer. The reason? Karan was still fast asleep.

It was already 11 a.m., and while the three ladies were engaged in their own tasks, Karan lay sprawled across his bed.

In the kitchen, Suchitra and Anulaxmi were busy preparing lunch. The aroma of sambar mingled with the smell of freshly fried pakoras, filling the air. In the living room, Gurleen was pacing back and forth with her phone pressed to her ear, her tone sharp as she instructed the decorators about flowers and lighting arrangements.

Meanwhile, Ramanathan and Raghav, who had noticed Karan sleeping, quietly decided not to wake him.

---

Upstairs, Karan shifted in his sleep. His hair was sticking out in every possible direction, his face buried half in the pillow, lips curved in a lazy pout. His hand instinctively stretched toward the other side of the bed, searching for the familiar warmth of his wife. But his fingers met only cool, empty sheets.

Karan (groggy mumble): Suchii…?

He slowly cracked open one eye, then the other, and when he realized she wasn’t there, his gaze drifted toward the clock on the wall. His eyes widened.

Karan (sitting up suddenly, shocked): Arre baap re! It’s 11 already? And Mata ji hasn’t come banging on my door… no chappal attack, no yelling? no taunting? Don’t tell me she’s sick or something!

Rubbing his eyes, he scrambled out of bed, still half-asleep. His hair was in such a state that it looked like he had just returned from defying the very laws of gravity.

He walked out of his room and descended the stairs, only to be met with the usual household frenzy. Gurleen was pacing with the phone, her voice brisk and commanding.

Gurleen (on call, impatient): Haanji, haanji… not yellow flowers, beta—White flower, I said white flowers! Aur stage ke saamne lights straight line mein lagna.

Karan was about to greet her, but his attention was stolen by the sight of Suchitra entering the room. His posture immediately straightened, and his sleepy face brightened with a smile.

Karan (thinking, hopeful): Aha! Here comes my wifey. She’ll come to me first, of course.

But instead of walking toward him, Suchitra went straight to Gurleen. She gently took the phone from her hand.

Suchitra (calm but firm): Bhaiya, I’ll call you back in five minutes.

And without waiting for a reply, she hung up.

Gurleen (startled): Arre, Suchitra! What are you doing? Give me the phone. I still have to explain everything to them.

Suchitra (gently, smiling): Mumma, bas… enough. You’ve been running around since morning without a break. Everything will be ready on time, I promise. But right now, you need to sit down, have breakfast, and take your medicines.

Before Gurleen could protest, Suchitra guided her to the chair and sat her down. She served her a plate and then, with all the tenderness of a daughter, picked up a morsel and brought it to Gurleen’s lips.

Suchitra (softly): Please, Mumma. For me.

Gurleen looked at her, her stern expression softening. With a small smile of defeat, she opened her mouth and allowed Suchitra to feed her.

Gurleen (smiling, amused): You’re stubborn, just like Karan.

Suchitra (teasing, warm): Then it must be in the family genes.

Both women shared a soft laugh.

---

From the doorway, Karan stood watching, leaning casually against the frame, a faint smile tugging at his lips. His usual mischief was absent; instead, his eyes were full of something deeper.

For the first time, he wasn’t just seeing his wife or his mother. He was seeing two women who were both strong in their own ways—one who had spent her life sacrificing for him, and one who had now taken the responsibility to care for her too.

Karan (thinking, emotional): Mumma never let herself rest… after Papa, she carried everything alone. She worked, struggled, smiled through it all—just for me. And now… now she has someone who cares for her, just as much as I do. Someone who will be with her when I can’t.

His throat tightened, and he quickly rubbed his nose, trying to shake off the sudden wave of emotions.

(Subah-subah this boy is getting emotional. And making us too)

But deep down, he knew the truth—his heart felt lighter, safer, knowing that if ever life took him away, his mother would never truly be alone.

And with that thought, he stood there, silently watching the two women who meant the world to him, his messy hair forgotten, his smile soft and genuine.

Suchitra, while feeding Gurleen, suddenly noticed a figure at the doorway. Her eyes fell on Karan, standing there quietly, his posture softer than usual, his smile small but warm.

Suchitra (surprised, gentle): Karan? Why are you standing at the door like that? Go… go take a bath.

She paused, then shook her head, correcting herself quickly.

Suchitra (teasing, yet caring): Nah, nah! Not now. First come and have breakfast. It’s still warm. Then you can go and bathe.

Karan blinked, caught off guard by how naturally she slipped into this tone—half scolding, half caring. He nodded obediently, wiping the corner of his eyes with the back of his hand, as though trying to hide something.

But Suchitra’s eyes didn’t miss it. She noticed. She tilted her head slightly, eyebrows knitting together in silent question. With just her eyes, she asked him, What happened?

Karan, realizing she caught him, quickly shook his head and forced a bigger smile, as if to say, Nothing, I’m fine.

Suchitra didn’t press further. She only gave him a small, knowing smile in return, respecting his silence.

Then, picking up another plate, she looked at him with that soft, wifely affection that made his heart feel full.

Suchitra (sweetly): Ap dosa khayenge?

Karan’s lips curved into a wide smile. He nodded eagerly, almost like a child being offered his favorite treat.

Karan (playful, in a babyish tone): Haan… dosa.

His expression was so boyish and innocent that Gurleen chuckled under her breath, while Suchitra’s eyes softened even more.

And in that small, ordinary moment—amidst all the chaos of the reception day—there was a peace, a tenderness, that belonged only to them.

After breakfast, while everyone was still finishing tea, Gurleen turned to her son.

Gurleen (soft but firm): Kannu putar, You’ll drop her to her Makeup artist. She has an appointment at 2. Fir baad mai Raghav le aayega usse shaam ko.

Karan (obediently): Okay, Mumma.

---

The afternoon came quickly. After lunch, Suchitra stepped into the car with Karan. The sun was warm but pleasant, her dupatta fluttering slightly as she settled into the passenger seat.

For a few minutes, silence filled the car, only the soft hum of the engine and the occasional horn outside. Then, Karan’s voice broke through.

Karan (teasing tone): Did you notice something?

Suchitra (looking at him, puzzled): What?

Karan pulled the car to the side of the road and parked. Suchitra frowned in confusion, watching him curiously. He reached his hand behind his neck and—like some hero straight out of a movie—pulled out a single red rose.

Suchitra blinked and then chuckled, her laughter light and sweet.

Suchitra (grinning, taking the rose): That’s so filmy, Karan. Cute.

Karan smirked, not done yet. From behind her seat, he pulled out a small plate with a delicate handmade white-flower tiara and a tiny velvet box.

Suchitra (eyebrows raised, surprised): What’s going on today?

Karan leaned in closer, his lips brushing her cheek as he placed a soft kiss there.

Karan (whispering): Today, wifey, it’s our third-month anniversary. This day… we tied that sacred bond.

Suchitra’s eyes moistened instantly. She looked down, guilt tugging at her chest.

Suchitra (voice low, emotional): I already forgot… I’m sorry. I didn’t bring anything for you.

Karan shook his head, smiling, his thumb brushing over her knuckles.

Karan (gentle, teasing): That’s okay. You can still give me one thing.

Suchitra (sniffing, curious): And what’s that one thing?

Karan (grinning, voice low): A kiss.

Her cheeks grew warm instantly, the flush of pink climbing up to her ears. She ignored his demand, her fingers moving to the little box instead.

Suchitra (deflecting): What’s in this box?

But his eyes—dark, soft, full of intensity—didn’t move from her face.

Karan (with meaning): Tum hi dekh lo… and tell me how it feels.

Suchitra slipped the flower tiara over her hair, adjusting it in the mirror on the side. The reflection staring back at her looked… different—cute, innocent, glowing. She almost blushed seeing herself like that.

Karan’s gaze never wavered.

Finally, she opened the box. Her breath caught in her throat. Inside lay a pair of delicate earrings, with tiny rose petals embedded inside the glass-like design.



Karan (soft, proud): Do you know what rose petals these are?

Suchitra shook her head, still staring in awe.

Karan (smiling): They’re from our wedding garland.

Her eyes widened in surprise, touched deeply by his thoughtfulness. She looked back at him, her lips parting, but no words came. Karan only grinned, loving her reaction.

Karan (explaining, sincere): It didn’t come early, otherwise I would’ve given it to you then. When I finally got them, the right opportunity never came. But today felt perfect… our day. Only problem is… they won’t match your evening outfit.

Before he could say more, Suchitra suddenly leaned forward and hugged him tightly. Her sudden closeness froze him. His eyes widened, his hands hesitated for a second before sliding naturally around her waist, pulling her closer.

He closed his eyes, breathing her in.

Then, before he could react, she tilted her face and pressed her lips gently near the corner of his mouth. The touch was feather-light, a brush that lingered for barely a heartbeat—but it was enough to jolt both of them like electricity.

Karan’s breath caught, his body stiffened, his mind blank.

And just as quickly, she pulled away, her cheeks red as she grabbed her purse and opened the car door.

Without looking back at first, she hurried into the parlour. But at the door, she turned around, meeting his stunned gaze. He was still frozen, his lips parted, eyes wide in disbelief.

She smiled mischievously, her eyes twinkling, before disappearing inside.

Karan blinked, his chest heaving. Then slowly, a big smile spread across his face, so wide it reached his eyes. He pushed his messy hair back, leaned against the seat, and laughed breathlessly.

Karan (to himself, in awe): I love her. I love her so much. God damn it. She’s addictive.

...

Evening had descended with a warm golden glow, painting the sky in hues of orange and crimson. The Roomlights shimmered softly as Suchitra stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the pleats of her golden lehenga. The rich fabric glistened as if tiny stars had been stitched into it. Her forehead was adorned with a line of sindoor, and her bridal chooda—red and golden—still clung proudly to her wrists. Her open hairstyle made her look ethereal, her silky, slightly wavy hair cascading gracefully to her hips. The delicate necklace around her throat gleamed, perfectly complimenting her mangalsutra.



Beside her, Saundarya leaned in with a smile, holding a little kohl.

Saundarya (playful, affectionate): Let me put a tiny black dot behind your ear… you look so beautiful today, I don’t want any evil eye on you.

She dabbed the kohl lightly and then stepped back to admire her.

Saundarya (softly, with admiration): You’re glowing, Suchii. Honestly… Karan machhan will be stunned when he sees you.

Suchitra flushed slightly, brushing her bangles as if to distract herself.

Just then, a car horn sounded outside. Raghav’s familiar impatient honk echoed up from the street.

Saundarya (grinning): There he is, your bodyguard Anna, come to escort us.

Both women walked downstairs, Suchitra holding her lehenga carefully as they made their way. When they reached, Raghav leaned against the car, arms folded, his usual mischievous smile plastered across his face.

Raghav (teasing, looking her up and down): Hmm… the makeup looks good.

Suchitra’s brows furrowed immediately, her lips pursing in mock annoyance.

Suchitra (frowning, playful irritation): What do you mean “makeup looks good”? Are you trying to say I don’t look good without makeup?

Raghav (deadpan, with a straight face): Haan.

Before he could smirk, her hand smacked against his arm with a sharp thwack.

Suchitra (mock anger): Anna!

Raghav (laughing, rubbing his arm): Arrey! Why do you always hit me? I was joking!

Suchitra (raising her chin, dramatic): Not funny. I look perfectly fine without makeup too.

Raghav (grinning, playful surrender): Fine, fine… you look beautiful both with and without. Happy now? So much lie

He pinched the bridge of nose.

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at her lips.

Since her lehenga was heavy and wide, Suchitra slid into the front seat carefully, while Saundarya comfortably sat in the back. The car started moving, the evening breeze slipping in through the half-open window.

As they drove, Saundarya leaned forward, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

Saundarya (curious tone): By the way, Raghav anna, I heard a little something… a marriage alliance for you?

Raghav tightened his grip on the steering wheel slightly, but his expression remained calm.

Raghav (nodding casually): Haan… there are talks going on.

Suchitra’s eyes widened, her face lighting up with genuine excitement.

Suchitra (surprised, cheerful): Ohhh wow! That’s amazing, Anna! But—

Before she could finish, Saundarya jumped in, her voice dramatic and loud, deliberately cutting her off.

Saundarya (grinning widely): —and I also heard that in the list of alliances, there’s a name… someone called Priya.

Raghav’s head snapped towards the side for a second, his brows furrowing in suspicion, before he glanced at her through the rearview mirror.

Raghav (narrowing his eyes): w-who’s giving you so much information about my personal life?

Saundarya (innocently mischievous): I have my own ways, anna. Don’t underestimate me.

She winked, making Suchitra giggle beside her.

Suchitra (turning to Saundarya, curious): Priya? You mean Priyalaxmi?

Saundarya nodded eagerly, grinning like a child with a secret she couldn’t wait to share.

Saundarya (teasing tone): Exactly. Priyalaxmi herself.

Suchitra’s jaw dropped slightly, while Raghav sighed, shaking his head with a helpless smile, clearly irritated but also amused by how quickly news traveled in his family.