After an hour of prep, Miya finally descended the stairs in her embellished pink lehenga, her dupatta delicately draped over one shoulder. Her makeup was soft and glowing, matching the warm lights and colorful decorations surrounding the house.
The moment her parents saw her, their expressions turned tender. Her mother clutched her chest, eyes slightly misty.
"You look... divine," her father whispered emotionally.
"Papa... are you crying?" Miya asked gently.
He cleared his throat quickly, pretending to laugh. "No, no. Just something in my eye. Come on now, your sangeet is about to start. You go ahead—I have nothing more to do down here."
She smiled softly, heart warm from his rare display of affection.
The Sangeet: A Celebration of Music and Dance
Sangeet night had officially begun. Music echoed through the house, accompanied by laughter, dancing, and the sparkle of joy. It was an all-girls event, strictly following tradition—no boys allowed.
Miya sat with her cousins and friends, swaying gently to the beat, her bangles chiming with every move. Suddenly, she felt a strange sensation—as if someone was watching her.
She looked around.
And then... her eyes widened.
There he was—Max, standing far off near the side gate, trying to stay hidden behind a column. He was dressed in black and looked like he'd climbed a wall or something. She could see him scanning the crowd, searching for her.
Just as he attempted to step inside—
"MAX!" Dadi's voice rang out.
Everyone turned to look.
Max froze.
"Yes... Dadi?" he said sheepishly.
"What are you doing here, young man?" she asked with narrowed eyes, marching toward him.
"I... uh... I just came to meet you, Dadi," he said with a nervous grin.
"Meet me? Are you feeling okay?" she asked, crossing her arms.
"Yes. You're glowing as always," Max added with a flirty smirk.
Dadi couldn't help but smile. "Sweet talker. Now go. This function isn't for boys!"
Max tried again. "But Dadi—"
"No but," she said firmly, shooing him off.
From afar, Miya bit her lip to suppress a laugh. Max dramatically pouted and made pleading gestures, but nothing worked. Operation: Sneak into Sangeet—failed.
Later that night, after two hours of dancing and celebration, Miya finally escaped to her room. Her feet were sore, and her jewelry weighed heavily on her neck.
She sat on the bed, beginning to take off her earrings.
Suddenly—a pair of arms wrapped around her from behind.
She gasped. "Max?!"
He leaned close, his breath brushing her ear. "Yes, it's me."
"What—How are you even here?" she asked, stunned.
"You left the balcony door open," he whispered with a cheeky grin.
Before she could respond, he pulled her closer and murmured, "If you want to escape, do it. But just wait one more day. One more night. After that 48 hours.... you're mine—completely."
His voice was low, firm, and full of something that made her spine shiver.
"Max..." she whispered.
He gently traced a kiss from her earlobe to her cheek, moving dangerously close to her lips. Their eyes met—burning with emotions neither of them could put into words.
She slowly closed her eyes.
His lips barely brushed hers—for only a second.
Then he pulled back, laughing softly.
Miya opened her eyes, blinking. "What... was that?"
Max smirked. "Mrs. Max, you'll have to wait a little longer."
She stared at him, half shocked, half amused.
"We've done this before, yes," he whispered again. "But this time... it'll be our first after marriage. That makes it special, doesn't it?"
He held her close again.
"The wait will be worth it."
She pushed him slightly. "You're so cheap!"
He chuckled. "Okay, okay. I'm going."
As he headed toward the balcony, he turned back. "But remember my bet—tomorrow, when you're ready in your wedding dress, I will be the first one to see you. Deal?"
"Let's see if you can keep that promise," she said.
"Just wait and watch," he grinned.
Then he was gone—vanishing like a lovesick ninja through her balcony.
Miya shook her head, smiling.
But little did Miya know… while one heart waited to make her his forever, another had already marked her as his fate.