Raman kept staring at the girl, unable to tear his eyes away. Her fair skin seemed to glow in the golden sunlight, and those wayward strands of hair brushing her cheek—how she kept tucking them behind her ear again and again—it felt like a scene stolen from a dream. And that laughter… oh, that laughter! It wasn’t mere sound—it was as if the moon itself had descended to Earth and broken into a soft, silvery giggle.

Naveen sat across from him, speaking animatedly, but Raman heard nothing. His senses were tangled in the spell of her beauty.

He was falling—deeper and deeper into her charm—without even realizing it. The only thought echoing in his head was how much more radiant she looked in person than in the photograph. His mother had been right: there was no girl in the village who could hold a candle to her.

If I marry this girl, he thought smugly, my friends will burn with envy. I'll walk with such pride... what a life it’ll be!

But then his eyes drifted across the room—towards Nandini.

She was beautiful too.

But not like her.

The girl he couldn't stop staring at—she was something else entirely. A different league.

Her lack of education? Her questionable background? Raman had forgotten all of it. All that remained was a burning desire to possess a beauty that others would covet. He imagined the stares, the envy, the whispered gasps if she became his wife. That was enough for now.

But what Raman failed to notice, a commando’s eyes did.

Naveen, a man trained to read danger before it struck, had been quietly watching everything. Like a hawk, his sharp gaze didn’t miss a flicker of that longing on Raman’s face.

And when they returned home, he knew exactly what needed to be done.

---

“What are you saying, Navi?!” Mohanji rose from his chair, disbelief flooding his face.

“I’m saying what I saw,” Naveen said, voice calm but firm. “Something about his behavior didn’t sit right with me. His eyes were locked on that girl—not Di. Maybe he knows her already… I don’t know. But I don’t think he’s the right man for her.”

He laid out everything he’d seen, his tone flat and unwavering. Mohanji felt the ground shift beneath him. He had done all the inquiries, had spoken to the right people, and the verdict was clear: the boy was decent, respectful.

“But didn’t you also get his background checked through your friends? I only invited him home after making sure everything was clear…”

“I know, Baba. I did. But when I met him today… something felt off. I can’t explain it better than that. My gut says no.”

Rani Devi, sitting on the edge of the bed, looked from her husband to her son. The three of them had retreated into a room, away from Nandini’s earshot. She had no clue that the ground beneath her was crumbling.

“But the engagement is done,” Rani Devi murmured, clutching her head. “Everyone knows. We’ve sent sweets to relatives. If it breaks now, they’ll blame our daughter. They’ll say there’s something wrong with her.”

She looked ready to burst into tears.

“And what do you suggest?” Mohanji snapped. “We marry our Nanda to a man whose character is questionable?”

“Don’t raise your voice!” she shouted, tears now streaming freely. “This will ruin her spirit. Her confidence will shatter. You men don’t think of that!”

Naveen sat down beside her, his hand on her back, speaking gently, “Ma… better a moment’s pain today than a lifetime of regret. And if you break down now, who will hold Didi together?”

Mohanji, wasting no more time, dialed Jagjeevan Sharma—Raman’s father—and laid the truth bare.

“If Raman has feelings for someone else… if he agreed to this marriage under pressure, please don’t hide it. We’ll end this quietly. Our daughter’s future is at stake,” he said politely.

“Arre no, Pandeyji!” Jagjeevan chuckled on the line. “It’s nothing like that. The girl Naveen saw is actually a distant relative. Our niece, in fact. Must’ve run into her outside the house, and Raman probably looked out of concern. She treats him like a brother. Ties him rakhi, actually. You know how protective older brothers get. She has no siblings. Raman’s the only one. You understand, right? There's absolutely nothing going on.”

His words soothed Mohanji like balm. A simple man, he took the explanation at face value, nodding along with a sigh of relief.

But as Jagjeevan hung up the phone, he turned to find his wife and son glaring at him.

Raman had stormed in earlier, demanding that the engagement be called off. His mother had joined his side. And now, to protect the illusion, Jagjeevan had just claimed the girl in question was his niece.

That lie left a bitter aftertaste.

Because the truth was, Jagjeevan was adamant that Nandini would be the daughter-in-law of his house. It was a decision he wasn’t willing to budge on—no matter how loudly his son or wife protested.

And in the Sharma household, what Jagjeevan decided was final.

Fuming, Raman locked himself in his room.

“Look how upset our boy is,” his mother pleaded. “Please… just say yes. He’s your only son.”

“That’s exactly why I care about his future,” Jagjeevan snapped. “Today it’s this girl. Tomorrow it’ll be someone else. He saw Nandini’s picture and said yes himself! I didn’t force him. He met the family, gave his word, and now he wants to back out?”

“And what of that poor girl?” he thundered. “What did she do to deserve this insult? You can’t waltz into someone’s home, agree to marry their daughter, then change your mind because someone prettier showed up!”

“If you’ve made a promise, then honor it.”

“You can’t force me,” Raman yelled from his doorway. “I won’t marry Nandini!”

“Fine,” Jagjeevan growled. “Then live your life thinking you have no father.”

“Rammu ke papa!” his wife screamed in shock, but by then, Jagjeevan had already walked out the door.

---

The next morning, unaware of the storm brewing around her, Nandini stepped onto the terrace with a basket of wet clothes. She smiled faintly as she spotted Naveen doing push-ups in the corner, his arms moving in rhythm with his breath.

She hung the clothes, letting them flutter in the breeze, and was about to head downstairs when a phone started ringing—left carelessly on a cot near the wall.

“Navi, your phone’s ringing,” she called out, glancing at him.

He didn’t even pause. “Pick it up, Di. It’s probably Santosh. He’s in the city these days, learning English, or so Mahesh says. And you know he always uses me as his practice dummy. Maybe now you can help him out too!”

Nandini laughed, her eyes twinkling. The three—Naveen, Mahesh, and Santosh—were thick as thieves since childhood. She got along well with all of them.

“Alright, alright, I’ll pick it up,” she said, grinning. Without checking the caller ID, she answered.