Unwillingly His

Samaira's POV

The wedding hall was breathtaking. Every inch of the room seemed crafted to perfection-elegant and radiant, with golden chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling, casting a soft glow over the sea of white and gold decorations. The air was thick with the sweet scent of jasmine, mixed with the faint fragrance of sandalwood incense that drifted lazily through the room. The soft murmur of voices blended with the gentle sound of tabla beats, setting a rhythmic pace for the festivities. Everything was beautiful. It was the wedding every girl dreamed of. A fairytale.

But not for me.

I stood at the altar, my fingers trembling slightly as I adjusted the dupatta of my lehenga. The deep red fabric shimmered under the warm light, and the intricate gold embroidery caught my gaze. I had chosen this dress for its elegance, its tradition. My mother had insisted on it, of course-everything had to be perfect. But to me, it felt like an elaborate costume, a disguise for the reality that had settled deep in my chest.

I had spent hours in front of mirrors, adjusting every detail, ensuring that I looked the part. But as I stood here now, the weight of it all was suffocating.

The guests around me were all smiling, whispering words of congratulations to each other, their voices a blur of noise in the background. But my mind was elsewhere-on a time that seemed both so close and so far. It was impossible not to think about it. The last time I had stood in a hall like this, with everything feeling perfect, was a year ago. The air had felt just as light, the decorations just as bright. I had been happy then. Truly happy.

I had walked into that space expecting everything to go as planned. Back then, everything had felt like it was falling into place-like I was living the dream I'd always imagined. The same sense of joy had filled my heart. I had felt loved, special, like nothing could go wrong. But somewhere along the way, everything had fallen apart, leaving behind nothing but a hollow ache.

I couldn't stop thinking about the past-the things I had once hoped for, the way things had seemed so perfect in that fleeting moment. Back then, I had believed in the promise of forever. But now, forever seemed like a distant memory, something I could no longer touch.

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Aarav Malhotra stood beside me now, his calm and collected demeanor a stark contrast to the storm that was brewing inside me. He was everything a girl could ask for: well-mannered, charming, successful, and with a family legacy that spanned generations. His father, a well-known politician, had built an empire that had not only secured their family's wealth but had positioned Aarav himself as a man of influence. He was well-spoken, thoughtful, and kind. His warm smile and genuine interest in the people around him made him approachable, and he had that rare ability to make everyone around him feel at ease.

I didn't know Aarav for long, but what I did know was that he was a good person. His integrity was unquestionable, and in many ways, he was everything my parents had dreamed for me. It wasn't that I disliked him, far from it. He was, in every sense, the perfect match for me. He was respectful, intelligent, and loyal. Yet there was no spark, no connection that would make me think, Yes, this is the man I want to spend my life with.

Our families had known each other for years, and when the arrangement had been made, it had felt like the natural progression of things. Business had always intertwined with our lives, and this marriage, though not born out of love, was a strategic move-one that would secure the future of both our families. It was about alliances, power, and wealth, not love.

But even so, as I looked at Aarav, I couldn't help but wonder what it would have been like if it had been different. If we had met under different circumstances, without the pressure of family expectations, of alliances that bound us together. Would things have been different? Could I have learned to love him the way I once dreamed of loving someone?

I had been in love before. I had tasted what it felt like to have someone care for me in a way that made my heart race with anticipation. A year ago, I had stood in a similar hall, with the same hopes, the same dreams. But that was before it all unraveled. Before I was left standing alone, crushed by the weight of promises that were never meant to be kept.

But I couldn't think about that now. I couldn't think about him. I had no choice but to move forward, to do what was required.

The shattered reputation of my family loomed over me. The scandal that had rocked our world was too much to ignore. I was told that if I didn't marry Aarav, the damage would be irreparable. My family's name, which had always been synonymous with wealth and respect, would be tainted beyond repair. We would lose everything-our influence, our business, our status. It wasn't just about love or desire. This was survival. My family's future rested on my shoulders, and I was the one who had to save us.

Aarav's hand brushed against mine, snapping me back into the present moment. I looked up at him, his expression calm, his eyes filled with an emotion I couldn't place. Maybe it was relief, or maybe it was just the weight of what we both knew. He wasn't in this for love either. We were both here because we had no other choice.

The priest began chanting the mantras, his voice reverberating through the hall, and I felt my body go rigid as I repeated them in unison with Aarav. Every word I spoke felt like a betrayal-of myself, of everything I had once believed in. My mind raced as I thought of all the things I could have been, the life I could have led if I hadn't been tied to this. But here I was, caught in the golden chains of tradition, standing next to a man I barely knew as we bound ourselves in vows that neither of us were truly ready for.

The wedding I never wanted. But here I was, fulfilling the duty that had been thrust upon me, and I could only hope that, one day, I would find peace in this decision.