(The afternoon before the reception.)

VIKRANTH

My mother, bless her timing, called out, "Vikranth! Lunch! You'll be late for your makeup!"

A makeup artist named Raj descended on me with brushes, powders, and strong opinions about my "rugged army complexion." He dabbed, blended, and contoured, transforming me from a battle-hardened major into — a groom. By five o'clock, I was deemed presentable, my face feeling strangely smooth and alien.

The reception was set to begin at five-thirty. I walked toward the main hall, the distant thrum of the dhol and the excited chatter of guests growing louder. My team was already there, scattered among the crowd, looking surprisingly dapper in their formal wear. Rey caught my eye and gave me a thumbs-up. Maddy winked.

I moved through the throng, my mind a quiet buzz of anticipation. And then I saw her.

She stood at the far end of the hall, near the stage, illuminated by the soft glow of fairy lights. The cream lehenga, intricately embroidered, shimmered around her. The fabric flowed, catching the light, making her seem to float. Her hair was styled in soft waves, subtle shimmer enhancing her already striking features.

My breath hitched. My jaw had gone slack. She looked breathtaking. The quiet strength I had sensed earlier was now amplified, radiating from her. She wasn't just beautiful — she was a force. The way she held herself, back ramrod straight despite the flowing fabric, was a testament to that silent, elegant, utterly captivating power.

She looked up, her gaze sweeping across the room. Slowly, deliberately, her eyes found mine. A small, knowing smile curved her lips — the same smile she had given me just hours earlier.

I made my way toward the stage. As I reached the edge of the crowd, Sid appeared at my elbow.

"Need some air?" he asked quietly, nodding toward a quieter corner.

I followed him to a secluded spot near the back where the music was softer. Sid leaned against a pillar, arms crossed, studying me.

"So," he said, his voice low. "Want to tell me why you looked like you'd seen a ghost when you came back from talking to her?"

I glanced around, making sure we weren't overheard. "Remember that joint operation in Rajasthan? Three years ago?"

Sid's eyebrows rose slightly. "The rescue op? Yeah, why?"

"Remember the Air Force officer who tore apart my tactical approach in front of half the command staff?"

"The one who suggested the alternate approach vector?" Sid's eyes narrowed as understanding dawned. "The one you complained about for weeks? Said she was—"

"Arrogant. Insufferably correct. And completely unwilling to defer to Army protocol," I finished. "Yeah. That one."

Sid was quiet for a moment. Then a slow grin spread across his face. "No. Fucking. Way."

"That's her, Sid. That's Aarohi. Squadron Leader Kumar."

"The woman you're marrying in—" he checked his watch "—approximately eighteen hours?"

"The very same."

Sid let out a low whistle. "Well, shit. Does she recognize you?"

"Oh, she knows exactly who I am. She called me 'Major' with that particular emphasis she used to use. The one that made it sound like she was questioning my competence."

Sid chuckled. "This is either going to be a disaster or the most interesting marriage in military history."

"She was right, you know," I said quietly. "About the approach vector. Her plan saved those hostages. My ego just couldn't handle being schooled by an Air Force officer."

"And now you're marrying her."

"And now I'm marrying her."

Sid studied my face. "How are you feeling about that?"

I considered it. "Honestly? I'm not sure. She handled the conversation about Anshu better than I thought anyone would. And knowing that she's the same officer from Rajasthan — I don't know if that makes this easier or more complicated."

"Maybe it makes it real," Sid suggested. "You already know she can hold her own against you. You know she's not intimidated by you. That's not nothing."

"She also thinks I'm an arrogant ass."

"Are you?"

I shot him a look. "Thanks for the support."

"I'm serious. Are you still the same guy who couldn't handle being corrected? Or have you learned something in three years?"

I was quiet for a moment, watching Aarohi through the crowd. "I'd like to think I've learned something."

"Then maybe this is your chance to prove it."

AAROHI

The conversation with Vikranth should've shaken me, but it didn't. Maybe because I wasn't here for romance. Or maybe — because a part of me respected his honesty. I only needed to know that he was trying. In some way, that meant something.

After that, the day blurred into rituals.

My reception look was final — a cream floral lehenga paired with emerald green jewelry. My cousins kept crowding into my room, clicking selfies. Aaliyah was busy warning everyone not to mess up my hair.

On stage, Vikranth and I stood side by side. His sherwani matched my outfit almost too perfectly — probably our mothers' doing.

He didn't say much. Neither did I. But there was a quiet understanding between us. We smiled. We posed. We greeted relatives.

Somewhere in between, Arjun ran up to me, smacking his tiny hand on my lehenga and shouting, "Chachi!" before wiping mango pulp across the fabric.

I just laughed.

Later, I found myself needing a moment to breathe. The weight of the lehenga, the constant smiling — it was overwhelming in a way that dogfights never were. I slipped away from the main crowd, finding a quieter corner where Aaliyah was supervising some props.

"There you are," she said. "You disappeared."

"Just needed a second," I said, adjusting my dupatta. "This thing weighs more than my flight gear."

Aaliyah gave me a knowing look and guided me to a chair. "So," she said casually, "want to tell me why you looked like you'd swallowed your tongue when you came back from talking to the groom?"

I felt my cheeks warm. "That obvious?"

"To me? Always." She looked up, her expression serious. "What happened?"

"He was honest. About having been in love with someone else. About not being completely over it."

Aaliyah's eyebrows rose. "And that's what threw you?"

"No." I paused. "Aaliyah, do you remember that joint operation three years ago? The hostage rescue in Rajasthan?"

"The one where you got into that heated argument with the Army major? Where you basically redesigned their entire assault plan in front of—" She stopped, her eyes widening. "Oh my God."

"Yeah."

"Major Khanna is that Major Khanna? The arrogant Army bastard you complained about for months?"

"The very same."

Aaliyah stared at me, then burst into laughter. "This is either the universe's idea of a cosmic joke or the most perfect match ever made."

"I'm leaning toward cosmic joke."

"Does he remember you?"

"Oh, he definitely remembers. We're both pretending we don't, but we absolutely do."

"And how do you feel about that?"

I considered it, watching Vikranth across the crowd as he spoke with his Army friends. "Complicated. He was insufferably stubborn during that operation. But — he also seemed different today. When he told me about his ex, he wasn't making excuses. He was just being honest."

Aaliyah was quiet, then leaned forward. "AK, what did you think of him? Back then?"

I thought back to that briefing room. The way Major Khanna had commanded attention, his confidence bordering on arrogance. The way he'd looked when the mission succeeded.

"I thought he was an arrogant ass," I said honestly. "But I also thought he was competent. Good at his job, just too proud to accept input. And when the mission succeeded, he didn't try to take credit. He didn't minimize our contribution. He just nodded. Like he was filing the lesson away."

"That's not nothing."

"No, it's not." I smoothed my lehenga. "Maybe people can change. Maybe we both have."

"Or maybe," Aaliyah said with a grin, "you're about to spend the rest of your lives arguing about tactics — and it's going to be the most stimulating marriage in military history."

I couldn't help but smile. "Wouldn't that be something?"

As if summoned by our conversation, I saw Vikranth approaching, weaving through the crowd with that same purposeful stride I remembered from Rajasthan.

"Showtime," Aaliyah murmured, standing and straightening my dupatta. "Remember — you're Squadron Leader Kumar. You've never backed down from a challenge, and you're not starting now."

I stood as well, watching my soon-to-be husband approach. And for the first time since this whole arrangement began, I felt something that might have been anticipation.