My reflection in the mirror looked desolate, stripped of the joy that should have come with the occasion. Draped in a baby pink lehenga, adorned with a pearl necklace, diamond bangles, and matching studs, I look beautiful.Yet, behind those ornaments, my eyes carried a somber stillness. Laughter echoed around me, but within me stirred a silent lament for Hriday Sir.

I never imagined I’d be caught in such a bleak crossroad, where I could do nothing but surrender to fate. My heart ached not from the weight of my attire but from the heavy truth of separation. Soon, I would become someone else’s wife, bearing someone else’s name. The wistful thought that I might never see him again hollowed me. Clutching my lehenga with trembling hands and quivering lips, I stood at the edge of tears, staring at my somber face, mourning what could never be.