Arika pov

I walked toward my sister, my gaze momentarily lowered to the intricate tiles beneath my feet—each pattern precise, almost hypnotic.

Trisha stood a few steps ahead, finishing a call, her tone casual—light in a way I could never quite be.

The moment she saw me, she cut the call.

"Mumma is calling you," she said, slipping her phone away. "Aarti is about to start."

My expression—calm, composed, distant—softened. Just a little. Just for her.

"Hmm?" I responded, quieter now, the sharpness in my voice replaced with something gentler. "And you couldn't come find me without a call?"

Trisha rolled her eyes lightly. "I did. You were busy admiring walls."

A faint, almost invisible smile touched my lips.

"They're worth admiring," I replied.

Without another word, I reached for her hand.

Not tightly.

Not possessively.

Just enough to remind—

I'm here.

"Stay close," I murmured, my thumb brushing lightly against her fingers.

"I always am," she said, softer this time.

Together, we walked toward the path that lead out of the haveli.

Just a few steps ahead stood the ancient temple—
quiet, grounded, waiting.

My phone rang.

The screen lit up—

"pregnant karne wail."

A small smile slipped through before I could stop it.

Trisha had already started walking toward the temple, and I stayed back for a second, answering the call.

"Finally got time?" I said, leaning lightly against the pillar. "Or are you still busy increasing the world population?"

"Excuse me?" Shravya's voice came instantly, dramatic as always. "I handle chaos, I don't create it."

I let out a quiet breath that almost turned into a laugh.

"Right. That's why you chose gynecology. Very believable."

"Shut up," she scoffed. "At least I deal with life. Not like you, miss emotionally unavailable IAS."

Before I could reply, another voice cut in—"Wow. She picked your call?"

I stilled. "Drishana," I said flatly.

" ladaku speaking," Shravya added, unnecessarily loud.

"Excuse me," Drishana snapped. "I am a lawyer. I fight for justice ."

"You?" I said calmly. "You're the reason people need lawyers."

A dramatic gasp.

"Wow. After all I've done for you?"

"What exactly have you done?" I asked. "Other than turning normal situations into legal cases?"

"I give justice," she replied proudly.

"You give unnecessary arguments."

Shravya burst out laughing on the other side.

"This is why I called," she said. "Trio is finally back. Respect the moment." For a second—

everything felt... lighter. Familiar.

Uncomplicated.

And then—

my screen blinked again.

Mumma Calling.

The shift was instant.

"I have to go," I said, my tone returning to neutral.

"Of course you do," Shravya muttered. "Nation first."

"Shut up," I replied quietly.

"Call back," Drishana added. "Or I'll file a case against you for emotional neglect."

"You already have," I said, and ended the call.

I picked up my mother's call instead.

"Coming," I said simply. "Wait a second."

"Mummy calling," I murmured under my breath before picking it up.

"Come, beta," her voice came quickly, slightly rushed. "I want you to meet my friend. Come early, jaldi aa" . A small frown formed on my face, not out of irritation—just confusion.

"Which friend, mumma?" I asked, adjusting my dupatta as I started walking toward the temple.

But the line had already gone silent.

I paused for a second, pulling the phone away from my ear, staring at the screen.

"She cut the call..." I muttered softly, a hint of disbelief slipping into my voice.

I slipped my phone back and quickened my steps—

moving a little faster now,

because she had called.

I reached the temple entrance, just before the first step.

For a moment, I didn't move.

The air felt different here—
quieter, heavier, almost... aware.

My mind, without effort, whispered her name.

My goddess.
My highness.

I bent slightly, my fingers brushing the ground—cool, familiar.

"Jay Gauri," I murmured under my breath.

"Shankar."The voice came from a step away.

Low.
Steady.
Wrapped in devotion.

I stilled.

There was something about it—
something that didn't feel new.

As if I had been waiting to hear it—
without knowing I was.

It was close. Too close. Just a step away.

For a second—

my thoughts paused.

And then—

the sound of the aarti began.

The bells.
The chants.
The rhythm that filled the space instantly.

I blinked, pulling myself back, ignoring the strange stillness that had settled inside me.

I stepped forward.

One step.
Then another.

And then—

impact.

My shoulder collided with someone.

It happened too quickly.

My balance shifted—
my foot twisted against the edge of the step.

For a split second—

panic.

I was falling.

But I never reached the ground.

A hand caught mine—

firm, immediate—

just above my wrist.

The grip wasn't harsh.

But it was enough.

Enough to stop the fall.

Enough to still everything.

And then—

I felt it.

A sudden warmth—

no—

a sharp, burning sensation
right where his fingers touched.

On my wrist.

On my birthmark.

My breath hitched—just slightly.

For a second, I didn't move.

Didn't pull away.

Didn't think.

Only felt.

And then—something flickered.

Not a memory. Not a thought.

A voice.ff

" jay gauri shankar*"*

Soft.

Close.

As if it had been said with me—
once.

Long ago.

My fingers tightened unconsciously.

My heart missed a beat—
or maybe it found one.

And I didn't know why but I felt a relief as if I completed promise that was impossible.

Slowly—

I looked up.

" play rehnuma song from ali baba duet 2 for better exprience"

Author's pov

Samarth bent slightly, his fingers brushing the ground in quiet reverence—as if offering a part of himself to the divine.

"Jay Gauri Shankar," he whispered.

And then—another voice followed.

The same words. The same devotion. Soft. Feminine. Familiar in a way that made no sense.

His mind stilled. Not in confusion—but in recognition.

The faint sound of anklets reached him, delicate, rhythmic—like something his soul had memorized long before his mind could understand it.

For a second. time hesitated. And then the aarti began.

Bells echoed through the temple. Chants rose into the air. The moment shattered. His phone buzzed. The sound felt almost intrusive. He glanced down, whispering a quick apology to the goddess before turning slightly to take the call—And then— impact.

He collided with someone. Everything happened at once.

Her balance slipped.
Her foot twisted.
Her body leaned—

And without thinking—

his hand moved.

It wrapped around her wrist.

Firm.
Certain.
As if it already knew where it belonged.

And in that exact moment—

everything stopped.

Her touch.

The same presence.

The same voice.

His breath slowed—

not because he wanted to calm down—

but because he didn't want to waste a single second of this moment on breathing.

He looked at her.

And the world—

ceased to exist.

It was her. The girl from the window. noor his heart whispered before he can understand.

Her face was calm, untouched by the chaos she had just caused within him.

Serene—like still water under moonlight.

And her eyes—

deep blue—

like the night sky had been folded and placed within them.

Not loud.

Not demanding.

Yet impossible to look away from.

He felt himself fall—

not physically—

but somewhere deeper.

Her lashes framed those eyes—not long enough to hide them, not short enough to lessen their depth.

Her lips, soft, naturally tinted—like roses that bloomed without effort.

Her face held a quiet sharpness—enough to intimidate, enough to command distance—

and yet— he couldn't move away.

Then—her lashes lifted.

Their eyes met.

And in that one second—

it felt like two verses of the same poem,
written in different times,
finally finding each other.

His breath faltered.

A warmth rushed to his face.

He looked away instantly.

A silent scolding ran through his mind.

You don't stare like that. You are not allowed to look at her specially with this admiration.

He lowered his gaze, trying to pull his hand back—

But her fingers trembled.

Slight.
Uncontrolled.

He felt it. And slowly—

he let go. Thinking he made her uncomfortable.

Still not looking at her.

Still fighting the urge to.

But then—

something pulled them back.

A gentle tug.

Both of them stilled.

Their gazes shifted—downward, toward their necks.

Her Om locket—

entangled—

with his Trishul.

For a second—

neither moved.

As if even time chose to pause.

As if somewhere, beyond what they could see—

something had aligned.

The idol of the goddess stood before them— silent witness to a moment that felt anything but ordinary. The aarti continued in the background—bells echoing—as if blessing a bond neither of them understood yet.

Samarth's hand lifted slowly, careful, deliberate—trying to untangle the lockets.

His eyes remained lowered.

Arika's gaze lifted.

She looked at him.

Properly this time.

But he didn't.

His ears had turned red.
His neck carried the same warmth.
His entire face flushed in quiet embarrassment.

Something about it—

unfamiliar.

Unexpected.

Her fingers trembled again—

though she didn't notice

.

For the first time—

her control wavered.

Words refused to form.

She tried.

Failed.

Her eyes moved back to his face—

lingering.

Just for a second longer than they should have.

He felt it.

And this time—

he looked up.

Their eyes met again—

but only for a moment.

Because hers dropped instantly.

Almost... shy.

Something she had never been.

And for the first time—

Arika felt it.

That quiet, unfamiliar weakness—

in front of someone
who had said nothing at all.

..................................................

The lockets only tangled further.

A small pull—

and suddenly, they stood closer than either of them intended.

The space between them thinned until even breath felt noticeable.

Her inhale.
His exhale.

Uneven.
Careful.

Both glanced elsewhere for a second—toward the temple crowd, the stairs, anywhere but each other.

As if being seen like this would make the moment too real.

They tried to step back.

Couldn't.

The chains only drew them near again.

Their fragrances mingled softly in the narrow distance between them.

Neither moved.

Neither knew how to.

Samarth kept his gaze lowered, fixed somewhere near the floor, as though one look up—or one inch closer—might stop his heart entirely.

Arika stood still, every breath measured, every nerve aware of how little space remained.

Then—

with one final tremble of metal—

the lockets slipped free.

Both stepped back at once.

And only then did they realise they had been holding their breath.

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A small breath left her lips.

"Sorry."

Soft.
Barely above a whisper.

Yet it reached him more clearly than anything else that day.

Before he could answer, the aarti neared its end.

The chants rose louder.
The temple bells rang harder, deeper, filling the air with something sacred and overwhelming.

She lifted her gaze toward the goddess.

For a moment, golden light touched her face—

and Samarth forgot how to breathe.

He looked away almost instantly.

His mind still clung to the rule he had always carried—

never look at a girl longer than respect allows.

So he stole only glimpses.

A passing outline.
A flicker of blue eyes.
The softness of light on red cheek.

Nothing more.

And somehow—

it was already too much.

Then she gathered herself and hurried up the stairs, as though her presence there was needed more than anything else.

He only stood and watched.

The hem of her beige, faintly shimmering lehenga brushed each step softly.

Her dupatta trailed behind her like a lingering prayer.

She had arrived like something unreal—

a story whispered into existence—

and walked away like an ancient princess returning to where she belonged.

His heart was still unsteady.

His hands still warm.

And his world—

still standing where she had left it.

After the aarti, Arika moved to stand beside her mother.

The bride was being led back toward the mansion, surrounded by laughter, relatives, and the soft chaos weddings carried so easily. Most of the crowd followed behind, while only a few remained near the temple—admiring its old beauty, clicking pictures beneath the carved arches.

Her gaze found her mother speaking to a woman around the same age.

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Thank you for reading chapter

lots of love