Haven Of Love

CHAPTEE2:The Meeting Of Arjun and Meera

At the sound of his name, my heart boiled in rage. I became furious than my usual self.

Arjun Malhotra. The night before, I remained wide awake, combing through the entire internet in desperation for finding something, anything wrong about him: perhaps an ex-girlfriend who had turned into a terrible tragedy, perhaps pictures where he fell onstage drunk, or perhaps a controversial opinion that would have made my parents reconsider this ridiculous arrangement. But nothing of sort.

No, it was nothing like that; not a single tweet for a careless phase when he was a teenager. Instead, it was exactly what I had feared: the infuriatingly perfect man.

There was a LinkedIn page filled with glowing recommendations, work photos of him during corporate events, and family portraits straight out of a Diwali advertisement.

His i********: made me want to pull my hair out: travel photos, some of him in the gym—the last ones I regretted admitting impressed me slightly—and a picture with his sister: Some things go beyond life.

Gosh. I hated how she had him so…controlled. So carefully made into everything our parents would have wished us to be. And that was what annoyed me the most. I wasn't looking for perfection.

At the sound of his name, my heart boiled in rage. Arjun Malhotra. The night before, I remained wide awake, combing through the entire internet in desperation for finding something, anything wrong about him: perhaps an ex-girlfriend who had turned into a terrible tragedy, perhaps pictures where he fell onstage drunk, or perhaps a controversial opinion that would have made my parents reconsider this ridiculous arrangement. No, it was nothing like that; not a single tweet for a careless phase when he was a teenager. Instead, it was exactly what I had feared: the infuriatingly perfect man. There was a LinkedIn page filled with glowing recommendations, work photos of him during corporate events, and family portraits straight out of a Diwali advertisement. His i********: made me want to pull my hair out: travel photos, some of him in the gym—the last ones I regretted admitting impressed me slightly—and a picture with his sister: Some things go beyond life. Gosh. I hated how she had him so…controlled. So carefully made into everything our parents would have wished us to be. And that was what annoyed me the most. I wasn't looking for perfection. I was looking for absolutely anything other than this marriage. "Meera," my father's voice brought me back down my spiraling realms of frustration. "Come sit." I took a deep breath in, preparing myself for whatever was to come as I stepped into the room. And there he was. Arjun Malhotra. He sat stiffly on the couch, hands folded in his lap, looking like he was attending a boardroom meeting rather than a casual tea to get to know each other. Good. So we agreed on something: neither of us wanted to be here. His mother—an elegantly dressed lady in deep maroon saree—looked at me with warmth laced with a hint of appraisal.

The evening breeze tickled my skin. I stepped outside, and with each passing second, I could perceive the murmurs of the city: traffic in chaotic order, people with their own conversations. As I reached the balcony, I leaned against the railing, resting my hands on the cold metal and staring into the city. Arjun stood beside me, as stiff as a pike. One could have thought that even a casual position could give him away. Seriously? He had exhausted me already! I sighed, choosing to forego pretense altogether. So I asked, with my arms folded, "Do we just agree to make this as uncomfortable for our families as possible, or shall we put on a facade for their benefit?"

I could feel his lips twitch from the corner of my eye—as if he were holding back a smirk. "Straightforward, huh," he mused. "That's refreshing." "I don't see the point in pretending," I reiterated. "You don't want this, I don't want this. So let's get that clear and move on with our lives." Arjun exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. "It's not that simple." "Why not?" "Because our families won't let it be simple." I frowned. "And you're actually going to consider this?" He leaned against the rail and stared at the city lights far away. "No. But I know my parents. They don't give up on things they set their minds to. And, from what I hear, neither do your parents." I laughed harshly. "You are not wrong about that." An interminable silence loomed behind us, heavy with the weight of frustrations we refused to give voice to. "So what do you propose?" I asked skeptically. "We let them chain us to a wedding neither of us wants just because it's easier than fighting them?" Arjun turned to face me, his expression inscrutable. "No. But we need to be strategic about this." I arched an eyebrow. "Strategic?" "If we fight too hard, they'll just dig in their heels," he explained. "If we reject this whole affair outright, they'll only try to push it through harder until we break. But if we resist just enough to give them the impression we want the choice, they might not force it upon us." I scrutinized him for a long moment. "You make it sound like this isn't your first time," I said. "Let's just say I've had lots of experience when it comes to expectations from family." I sighed and rubbed my temples.

As soon as her looked on me, a reason accompanied; I waited my heart out. An immense cloud of doubts roamed over my mind, wanting an answer. Then I got one from her. "It was certainly a conversation that will need thinking through," he stated smoothly. "We'd like time to think it over." I nodded, forcing a neutral expression on my face. "It's big. We don't want to rush it." His mother clapped her hands together. "That's terribly grown-up of you both!" My father frowned a little, as if he had been expecting something more decisive.

"Don't push yourself," he stated, though there was an unmistakable tone of don't be too long about it. I wished him another polite smile, just a little too tired of the charade we had just begun. As I pivoted toward the door, I felt Arjun's gaze linger just a moment too long on me. And for the first time in my life, I was not so sure I disliked it.

I was looking for absolutely anything other than this marriage. I instantly became lost.

"Meera," my father's voice brought me back down my spiraling realms of frustration. "Come sit." I took a deep breath in, preparing myself for whatever was to come as I stepped into the room.

And there he was. Arjun Malhotra. My countenance changed. He sat stiffly on the couch, hands folded in his lap, looking like he was attending a boardroom meeting rather than a casual tea to get to know each other. Good.

So we agreed on something: neither of us wanted to be here. We hated it with passion. His mother—an elegantly dressed lady in deep maroon saree—looked at me with warmth laced with a hint of appraisal. "You look beautiful"

I fake a smile. Then she added

" You will make an excellent wife for my son"

The evening breeze tickled my skin. I stepped outside, and with each passing second, I could perceive the murmurs of the city: traffic in chaotic order, people with their own conversations.

As I reached the balcony, I leaned against the railing, resting my hands on the cold metal and staring into the city.

Arjun stood beside me, as stiff as a pike. One could have thought that even a casual position could give him away.

Seriously? He had exhausted me already! I sighed, choosing to forego pretense altogether. So I asked, with my arms folded, "Do we just agree to make this as uncomfortable for our families as possible, or shall we put on a facade for their benefit?"

I could feel his lips twitch from the corner of my eye—as if he were holding back a smirk. "Straightforward, huh," he mused.

"That's refreshing."

"I don't see the point in pretending," I reiterated.

"You don't want this, I don't want this. So let's get that clear and move on with our lives." Arjun exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. "It's not that simple."

"Why not?" "Because our families won't let it be simple." I frowned. "And you're actually going to consider this?" He leaned against the rail and stared at the city lights far away.

"No. But I know my parents.

They don't give up on things they set their minds to. And, from what I hear, neither do your parents." I laughed harshly.

"You are not wrong about that." An interminable silence loomed behind us, heavy with the weight of frustrations we refused to give voice to.

"So what do you propose?" "Do you think this is normal?"

I asked skeptically. "We let them chain us to a wedding neither of us wants just because it's easier than fighting them?" Arjun turned to face me, his expression inscrutable.

"No. But we need to be strategic about this." I arched an eyebrow. "Strategic?" "If we fight too hard, they'll just dig in their heels," he explained. "If we reject this whole affair outright, they'll only try to push it through harder until we break apart.

But if we resist just enough to give them the impression we want the choice, they might not force it upon us." I scrutinized him for a long moment.

"You make it sound like this isn't your first time,"

I said. "Let's just say I've had lots of experience when it comes to expectations from family." I sighed and rubbed my temples.

As soon as her looked on me, a reason accompanied; I waited my heart out. An immense cloud of doubts roamed over my mind, wanting an answer. Then I got one from her. "It was certainly a conversation that will need thinking through," he stated smoothly.

"We'd like time to think it over."

I nodded, forcing a neutral expression on my face. "It's big. We don't want to rush it." His mother clapped her hands together. Excitement overwhelming her face.

"That's terribly grown-up of you both!"

My father frowned a little, as if he had been expecting something more decisive.

"Don't push yourself," he stated, though there was an unmistakable tone of don't be too long about it. I wished him another polite smile, just a little too tired of the charade we had just begun.

As I pivoted toward the door, I felt Arjun's gaze linger just a moment too long on me. And for the first time in my life, I was not so sure I disliked it.