Arranged by Destiny

Chapter 9.

She was arranging dishes carefully on the table, moving with a quiet grace, her hands a little shaky but steadying themselves each time. My mother was beside her, smiling warmly, praising her for how beautifully she had prepared everything. My father, already seated at the head of the table, nodded with approval and said.

“It all looks delicious, beta.”

Naina’s lips curved into a small, hesitant smile at his words.

I walked in without saying anything and sat down in my usual place. My chair felt colder than usual tonight. My mother looked at me, then at Naina, as if expecting me to say something to her, but I didn’t. I just picked up my spoon and began eating silently.

Throughout the meal, my parents spoke to Naina, asking her about the recipes, encouraging her, gently pulling her into their warmth. She responded politely, her voice soft, her eyes lowered most of the time. But she never looked at me. Not once. And I… I didn’t look at her either.

What caught my attention though, was where she sat. Instead of sitting beside me, she took her place next to my mother, as if that felt safer for her. My mother seemed surprised by her choice but happy with her presence, even protective, while my father glanced between us from time to time, his sharp eyes reading more than we said.

I could feel their silent questions in the air...

Why were we not speaking to each other ?

Why was the space between us so wide, even at the same table ?

But I stayed quiet.

Because what could I tell them ?

That marriages do not transform overnight into companionship ?

That two strangers, tied by fate and family, cannot suddenly become one just because the world expects it ?

I couldn’t make them understand that both Naina and I needed time... Time to heal, time to breathe, time to learn each other’s silences before we could share our words.

So, I just ate my food in silence, feeling the weight of my parents' watchful eyes, and the distance of the girl who now carried my name but not yet my trust.

Dinner ended without incident, but the silence at the table spoke louder than anything else.

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The night air was cool, brushing softly against my skin as I sat on the swing bed in the balcony. Above me, the sky stretched wide, scattered with stars, and in the center hung the moon, calm, bright, eternal.

I leaned back, letting the swing rock gently, my eyes fixed on that glowing circle. The moon had always belonged to Riya in my heart. She loved it in a way no one else could. I could still hear her voice soft and playful, when she would tell me the moon was her best friend. She said its calm silver light was a comfort for her. According to her the moon was a strong proof that even the darkness held beauty.

I closed my eyes, trying to summon her face the way I used to, from the last five years. The curve of her smile, the mischief in her eyes, the way her laughter always seemed to linger in the air. Sometimes it worked. Sometimes the memories came sharp and clear, like a photograph. Other times, like tonight, they came blurred, fading around the edges no matter how tightly I tried to hold onto them.

It hurts... it still hurts.

I let out a shaky breath and opened my eyes again, searching the moon for her reflection, like I had done so many sleepless nights before. But something strange happened.

For the briefest moment, the moon changed...

It wasn’t a glowing circle anymore. It looked like the small flame of an earthen lamp steady, warm, almost alive. And in that light, for the friction of a second... I saw the faint outline of a girl, holding the lamp gently in her palm. Her face wasn’t clear, just a silhouette, but the image struck me like a wave.