Today was the day the Sharma family was coming to see Nandini.

Both families had been waiting for Raman’s leave to align—and now, after nearly a week, he was finally home. The Pandey household buzzed with the energy of anticipation, every corner of the house echoing with preparations.

Nandini and Naveen’s only paternal aunt, Yamuna Devi, had come especially for the occasion. Being the eldest sister of Pandey ji, she commanded both reverence and authority. Her approval would be the seal on Nandini and Raman’s alliance—without it, the wedding would remain a mere proposal.

She wasn’t alone. Accompanying her were her two children: her son Niranjan—two years older than Nandini, still unmarried—and her daughter Sukanya, a college-going girl a few years younger than Naveen.

Nandini sat in her room getting ready, while Sukanya fluttered around, helping her. That’s when the door opened, and Bua strode in with her usual stormy presence.

“What is this color, Nanda? Wear something that makes your complexion look fairer! Why didn’t you get ready at the parlour? What is this nonsense?”

She barely paused for breath as she launched into a barrage of complaints.

Nandini wore a simple blue saree. Her makeup was light, and her long, waist-length hair flowed freely down her back.

“It’s alright, Bua ji. I’m fine like this,” she replied, her voice quiet, almost flat.

Bua scoffed, “Then the boy will look at you and say the same—‘just fine’.” With a disapproving grunt, she turned and walked out.

Sukanya hesitated. “Di, should I do a little better makeup? It’ll make your skin tone look lighter.”

Nandini shook her head. “Makeup can only hide my real skin for a while. It can’t change who I am. Why should I be ashamed of how I look? If someone can’t like me the way I am… what’s the point of such liking?”

Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she smiled—soft, steady, and unapologetically herself.

“As you wish,” Sukanya said with a shrug.

“You go now,” Nandini told her gently.

“I’ll come get you when jiju—I mean, they—arrive,” Sukanya giggled as she left the room.

Left alone, Nandini’s heart sank with the weight of longing. She missed Naveen. If he had been here, the house would be filled with laughter, teasing, his endless banter. She hadn’t spoken to him for two days, and the silence had begun to eat at her.

The last time they spoke, he had insisted she get ready and video call him once dressed. But the signal here was terrible—calls weren’t even going through, let alone video. She had tried so many times since morning, but each attempt ended the same: no network.

If only Naveen were here…

But she knew he couldn’t come. No matter how much he may have wanted to be by her side today, his duty was somewhere else. And yet, despite the ache, a swell of pride rose in her chest. Her brother had chosen a path that few dared to tread.

Suddenly, voices floated in from outside. She rushed to the window.

The Sharma family had arrived.

Her heartbeat quickened.

She dialed Naveen one last time, desperate for his voice, but again the line dropped—out of network.

She couldn't see much from the window. Blurred silhouettes, faint outlines.

She moved away and sat quietly on her bed, the nervousness now creeping in like a slow fog. What would they be like? How should she sit? What should she say? What if the boy wasn’t at all how her father had described?

Before her thoughts could spiral further, the door creaked open and Sukanya peeked in with a bright smile.

“They’re calling you, Di. Come on.”

Nandini drew in a deep breath and rose to her feet.

“You look beautiful,” Sukanya said softly.

Nandini smiled in return, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes—it was there, but not quite whole.

---

Moments later, Nandini stepped out of her room, head bowed. As she walked toward the drawing room, the hum of voices suddenly fell silent. She could feel their eyes on her.

“This is our Nanda—our pride, our daughter,” said Pandey ji with a voice full of affection.

She looked up at him and, instantly, a gentle smile graced her face.

And that’s when she felt it—another gaze, intense and unwavering.

She didn’t need anyone to tell her—it was him.

Raman.

“Come, dear, sit here,” her father said, patting the space beside him.

Introductions followed swiftly. Jagjeevan Sharma took the lead, and his likeliness for Nandini was evident—he had made up his mind the moment he saw her. She was exactly the kind of daughter-in-law he had imagined.

Only three members had come from the Sharma family: Jagjeevan Sharma, his wife, and their son, Raman.

As she folded her hands and greeted them politely, her eyes met Raman’s.

Even while seated, his presence was commanding—fair-skinned, neatly trimmed military-style hair, a proud moustache, and a calm, composed demeanor.

He smiled—just a little. But enough for her to feel it.

Nandini quickly dropped her gaze, though a shy smile had already found its way to her lips.

---

Meanwhile…

Naveen and his squad were sprinting in two neat lines.

“Faster, boys!” came a commanding voice as Sangram ran past them effortlessly.

“What the—how did he catch up already? He started after us!” One of the commandos asked cluelessly.

“Yeah, but he’ll reach the finish point before us, just watch.” Naveen replied confidently.

They all pushed harder, panting, determined, and soon reached the peak of a hill—the designated finish line. Sangram was already there, waiting.

“Told you! Sir always gets there first!” Naveen was so proud.

“Good job, boys!” Sangram called out, and everyone stood at attention before him.

“Half an hour rest. Then back to base,” he ordered before walking toward the edge of the hill, his eyes catching the sight of the sun dipping between the mountains.

Sangram’s life was a strange one—fearless, emotionless. Nothing came above the nation. Personal life? Barely existent. He lived alone and preferred it that way. Discipline was his religion, and this harsh, rule-bound life had become his identity.

He often wondered—without this, where would he be? Who would he be?

His gaze drifted toward Naveen, who stood a little apart, visibly distracted.

“All good, Pandey?” he asked.

Startled, Naveen turned. Sangram gestured with a nod, and Naveen walked over silently.

They both stood still, watching the golden sun sink behind the horizon.

“Just say it,” Sangram said at last.

Naveen exhaled. “There’s a marriage proposal for my sister.”

“And?”

“I’m just… uneasy. Wondering what’s happening back home. The guests must’ve left by now…”

“You can call once we’re back at base. No need to stress.”

“No, it’s just…” Naveen stopped mid-sentence.

Sangram didn’t need more words. One look at the boy told him—there was more in his mine that Naveen wasn’t saying.

And perhaps, it was something that even he hadn’t yet found the courage to admit.