Married My Enemy (#1 Rajput)

19- Wedding

I should remember this day in the future. She will, one way or another. Jaanvi hurriedly fetches for her pen and beings writing exactly what she feels in this moment.

25th November,

This part of the page is a little wet right now. Can't help it, I'm an emotional fool but don't tell Kiaan or he'll use this against me.

This tear represents how much I miss my old life. How much I already miss dad.

Her fingers are wrapped around the pen tightly, ready to dance in her lead but she's out of ideas. Jaanvi doesn't know what to write or how to write it. So her lively nature gives up. She drops the pen and hugs the notebook to her body. Sending strength or borrowing it, it all is confusing. She can write anything in this notebook and not be afraid of being judged because it—this book—is her little secret.

"Jaanvi they are here. I must say Kiaan is loo—" Aditi overly joyed and enthusiastic soft voice trails off at the sight of her crying friend, hugging her notebook like her life depends on it. Aditi carefully walks over to her friend and places her gentle hand on Jaanvi's shoulder. "Are you okay?" Her voice is highly concerning. Sad and even sympathetic. Because her mother isn't alive to see her wedding?

Jaanvi is unaware of how to react or speak. She thinks if she begins to talk her voice would be coarse and unamusingly complex to understand so she settles with a brisk nod. She drops the notebook in her other luggage. "H-help me. H-hand the other three books to me."

"Okay," Aditi carries the remaining three books in her hand and hands it over to Jaanvi. She watches her friend arranging the notebooks so tidily in her luggage under her clothes. "These books are full, why are you taking them?"

Jaanvi smiles a tiny smile pushing her clothes down so it won't require much effort to zip the luggage up. "You know I'm a memory person, Aditi. I like to cherish things. Whenever I open these notebooks I can feel what I felt when I wrote it. If I wrote about something funny or exciting I can feel the joy inside me even if I'm sad. Maybe reading these over and over again can make me smile." Her merry voice immediately turns low picturing how her life would turn out with Kiaan.

"That you are. Who keeps their old high school books? I mean, you won't be using them." Aditi rolls her eyes eyeing the old school books of Jaanvi on the top shelf of her bookshelf in the bedroom. "Come on, uncle was calling for you. It's time." She mutters looking at an anxious and suddenly stiff going Jaanvi.

The smile on Jaanvi's face replaces with sadness.

"P-pa didn't want to talk to me? A-alone?" She was expecting her father to come into her room to speak. Saying a few last words before she leaves this house. Normally mothers have a one-on-one conversation with their daughters but Jaanvi didn't have one, so she imagined—he didn't come. All she wanted was a little 'I love you and I'll miss you' from her father in private.

Maybe she expected too much.

Aditi curses herself for being blunt. I could have filtered my sentence a little. There is no time to waste of a face-palm so she swiftly changes her expressions to a cheeky and naughty one. "If he sees his daughter looking this beautiful he'll kick Kiaan out of the hall! Who would want such a beauty leaving their house, huh? Besides Mr Groom has been glancing around the whole crowd to find you. Someone, please tell your NRI husband the bride doesn't come down until the priest asks her to." She has this dramatic mischief eye wiggle and shoulder shimmering in excitement which can earn a slap from Jaanvi but she's too lost.

Her best friend's words didn't affect Jaanvi.

She is already started missing her father. And the hole—the empty crucial hole—in her chest seems to deepen. He doesn't want to meet me? This is the time. The moment he should come, hug her, kiss her face, tell her exactly how he feels.