The soft chime of temple bells filled the air as Naina Mehra stood at the altar, her hands trembling, her heart pounding with a cocktail of emotions. The intricate henna on her palms had dried long ago, but the pain of anticipation was still raw. Today was supposed to be the day she married Rohan, the man she had known and loved for years. But now, as she glanced around at the empty space beside her, she realized something had gone terribly wrong. Rohan had run away. Her gaze shifted frantically toward the guests in the grand hall, their murmurs rising in volume, spreading whispers like wildfire. The ceremony was supposed to begin in minutes, but the groom was nowhere to be seen. She heard her name being called, but the sound felt muffled—distant. Her father, standing beside her, looked more angry than worried. Her mother’s face was a mixture of confusion and sorrow. The sound of hurried footsteps echoed from the back of the room. Naina’s breath hitched as she turned toward the source of the movement. Her heart stopped when she saw Rishabh Deshmukh, Rohan's older brother, walking toward her. Where was Rohan? What had happened? “Rohan… He’s gone,” Rishabh said, his voice low, tight. “He left, Naina. He—he ran away.” For a moment, the world seemed to collapse in on itself. Rishabh’s solemn eyes held her gaze, but there was no sympathy there. Only resolve. “We can’t call off the wedding,” he continued, his voice cool but firm. “You’re already here. The families are here. You know the consequences, Naina. You don’t have a choice.” Naina's chest constricted. No choice? How could this be happening? Rishabh was a stranger to her in many ways, a man whose presence had always been overshadowed by the one person she loved. Yet now, in the absence of Rohan, it was Rishabh who stood before her, his eyes unreadable, his fate and hers intertwined in a way she never anticipated. Her breath caught in her throat as her father, in the blink of an eye, nodded toward the priest, signaling that the ceremony must go on. There was no room for hesitation. Naina’s world seemed to tilt sideways, but she found herself standing there, forced into the grip of destiny she never asked for. The red bridal veil was draped over her face. She couldn’t see Rishabh clearly, but she could feel his presence beside her. The world had gone from a dream of love to a nightmare she had no escape from. And then, with a single word from the priest, her future was sealed. “Phere,” he intoned, as Rishabh’s hand gently, but decisively, took hers. In that moment, Naina realized that her life was no longer her own. It was Rishabh’s now.