Samaira Lakshmi Deshpande is caught between two worlds, two masks. Amidst the hunt for her missing twin and the pressure to fit her family's mold of the perfect daughter facade, she's trapped in a life she despises.
Everything shifts when a strange...
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Mumbai, India October
Samaira's POV
I wrap my arms around myself as a chilly breeze passes us, feeling a slight shiver run through me. Despite the cold, I sigh contentedly as we continue walking aimlessly. Aryan takes a deep breath, and I glance at him as he looks towards a nearby coffee shop. "Coffee?" he asks, turning to me, and I nod in agreement.
The café looks cozy, with small two-seater tables outside. "I'll get it," Aryan offers, pulling out a chair for me. I take a seat, and he nudges it closer to the table with a smile. "Cold?" he inquires, his eyes scanning my form. "A little," I reply, hugging myself for warmth. "Do you need a jacket or something?" he suggests, glancing around as if searching for a nearby clothing store. "I'm fine. I like the weather," I assure him, waving off his concern.
We both look at the menu, and I spot hot chocolate. "Hot chocolate," I decide, pointing it out. Aryan heads into the café and returns a few minutes later with two steaming cups. He places mine in front of me, and we sip from our cups in silence. However, Aryan's gaze keeps drifting to me, though I pretend not to notice.
"So?" I begin, setting my cup back on the table. "Let's get to the point. Why do you want to marry me?" I ask, intertwining my fingers and resting them on the table. His gaze meets mine as he sets his coffee down and mirrors my pose. "I like you," he states without hesitation. My heart quickens its pace, and I maintain eye contact with him. "That's not reason enough," I murmur as I lift my cup for a sip.
As I sit there, sipping on my hot chocolate, the warmth of the drink providing some comfort amidst the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me. Despite the soothing atmosphere of the cafe, my mind is anything but calm. Aryan's words hang in the air, heavy with significance, and I can't help but feel a knot of uncertainty tightening in my chest.
"Why?" I press, my voice barely above a whisper, but each syllable heavy with the weight of my doubt. "Why me? What is it about me that makes you want to marry me?"
Aryan leans back in his chair, his brow furrowed in thought. There's a palpable tension in the air, as if we're both teetering on the edge of something unknown. "It's complicated," he begins, his voice low and hesitant. "But there's something about you, Aira. Something that draws me to you in a way I can't quite explain."
His words send a shiver down my spine, and I can't help but feel a surge of doubt creeping in.
Is this connection real, or is it just wishful thinking?
I nod slowly, trying to process his words. Despite my uncertainties, there's a part of me that wants to believe him, to trust in the possibility of something more between us.
"But marriage... it's such a big step," I murmur, more to myself than to him.
He meets my gaze, his eyes reflecting a mixture of determination and vulnerability. "I know it's a big step," he admits, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "But I'm willing to take it with you, if you'll have me."
