Awkward Heartstrings (HEARTSTRINGS SERIES-1)

A/n:  there  is a time skip which is around their wedding as I didn't want to stretch a lot .

Aadya pov

The air in my room was thick with anticipation. Boxes overflowing with silk sarees, jewelry, and cosmetics lay scattered across the floor, a testament to the whirlwind of wedding preparations.  A nervous energy buzzed within me, a strange mix of excitement and apprehension.

Just a few days before my wedding to Reyansh, I found myself grappling with a wave of emotions. One moment, I would be lost in dreams of our future together – a cozy home, children laughing, and a lifetime of shared adventures.

The next, a pang of doubt would hit me. Was I ready for this? Was I ready to leave the comfort of my childhood home, to step into the unknown with a man I loved, but still, didn't entirely know?

My mother, bustling about the house, caught my gaze. "Nervous, darling?" she asked, her eyes twinkling.

I nodded, a small smile playing on my lips. "A little," I confessed.

My mother pulled me into a warm embrace. "It's natural, sweetheart. Every bride feels this way. But trust me, you're making the right choice. Reyansh is a good man, a kind man. He will cherish you."

I clung to her, the familiar scent of jasmine and sandalwood offering a sense of comfort.  She was right. Reyansh was everything I could ever ask for. Yet, a small voice within me whispered, "What if...?" What if I wasn't ready? What if I made a mistake?

Pushing the doubts aside, I focused on the positive. I imagined our first dance, the joyous laughter of our loved ones, and the promise of a lifetime of happiness with Reyansh. A gentle smile spread across my face. I was ready. I was ready to embark on this new chapter, hand-in-hand with the man of my dreams.

The aroma of cardamom and cloves, a comforting blend of spices, always took me back. Back to our kitchen, laughter bubbling over as we attempted to make Reyansh's grandmother's legendary biryani. It had been a disaster, a chaotic explosion of spices and burnt rice, but we had laughed until our sides ached.

I remembered the quiet evenings on the balcony, the city lights twinkling below us, our hands intertwined. The warmth of his hand in mine, the soft murmur of his voice as he recounted stories of his childhood, the way his eyes would crinkle at the corners when he smiled – these were the memories I cherished most.

Then there was that day. The day we had our first serious fight. It had started so innocently, a forgotten birthday, a misplaced set of keys, but it had escalated quickly. Voices were raised, harsh words exchanged, and before I knew it, the air between us was thick with unspoken words. I felt a knot of fear tighten in my chest, terrified of losing him, of damaging something so precious.

But then, he showed up at my doorstep, a single red rose in his hand, a sheepish grin playing on his lips. He had apologized, sincerely, his eyes filled with regret. He held the rose out to me, a shy smile playing on his lips. My anger melted away, replaced by a wave of relief and affection. We spent the evening talking, clearing the air, and realizing that our love was stronger than any petty argument.

As I sit here now, surrounded by the whirlwind of wedding preparations, these memories, both joyful and challenging, flood back. They remind me of the journey we've shared, the laughter, the tears, the unexpected detours. And as I anticipate the day I will stand beside him, I know that these shared experiences, these memories woven into the fabric of our love, will forever be a part of us.

The phone rang, startling me from my reverie. It was Reyansh. A jolt of nervous excitement surged through me as I answered, my heart quickening its pace. Our conversations since our families had announced our arranged marriage had been infrequent, a series of polite exchanges punctuated by awkward silences. The abruptness of the engagement, following a whirlwind courtship, still felt surreal.