The bridal suite was quiet except for the soft hum of the air conditioner and the distant sound of leftover wedding music fading from the lawn below. Rose petals were scattered across the white bed. The only light came from a few warm lamps and the string of fairy lights near the window.
Isha stood near the edge of the bed in her red bridal lehenga, the heavy dupatta still draped over her head and shoulders. Her hands were trembling slightly. Vivian closed the door behind him, removed his sherwani, and walked to her slowly. He didn’t touch her immediately. He simply stood in front of her and looked at her the way he had looked at her under the mandap like she was the only real thing in the world.
To my amazing readers, Thank you for choosing to support my work. Every contribution you make doesn’t just help me write more stories it helps someone else too. I’ve made a personal promise: 10% of everything I earn here will go to someone who truly needs it. Whether it’s a student struggling with fees, a woman rebuilding her life, or a family fighting through a tough time — your support becomes their hope. By supporting me, you’re supporting two dreams at once: mine, and someone else’s who needs a little light. Thank you for being part of something bigger than a story. With love, MoonshyreWrites
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