If there was one thing Aanya Sharma hated more than unsolicited advice, it was being told she would "change her mind someday."

Especially when it came from people who barely knew her.

Or worse—

Relatives.

"Twenty-seven already?"

Aanya forced a polite smile as she balanced a paper plate in one hand and a glass of juice in the other.

Here we go again.

The wedding hall buzzed with laughter, music, and conversations. Fairy lights decorated every corner while distant cousins she hadn't seen in years wandered around pretending they recognized everyone.

Aanya had attended enough family functions to know exactly how the evening would go.

First, someone would ask about her job.

Then someone would praise her salary.

And finally, someone would ask the inevitable question.

"When are you getting married?"

Right on schedule, her aunt leaned closer.

"So, beta, any good news?"

Aanya blinked.

"What kind of good news?"

Her aunt laughed dramatically.

"You know exactly what I mean."

No, unfortunately, she did.

"I'm focusing on work right now."

The answer was simple.

Polite.

Practiced.

She had used it hundreds of times.

Unfortunately, it never worked.

"Work will always be there."

"Marriage should happen at the right age."

"Don't wait too long."

"Girls shouldn't be too picky."

The usual collection of unsolicited wisdom followed.

Aanya nodded at appropriate moments while mentally calculating how quickly she could escape.

Finally, her phone buzzed.

A blessing from the universe.

"Excuse me, work call."

It wasn't.

But nobody needed to know that.

She walked away before another lecture could begin.

---

The terrace was quiet.

Cool evening air replaced the suffocating atmosphere of the crowded hall.

Aanya leaned against the railing and exhaled.

Peace.

At last.

She unlocked her phone and opened her favorite travel page instead.

Photographs of mountains.

Cafes.

Hidden beaches.

Solo travelers.

Places she wanted to visit someday.

Places that didn't ask about marriage.

A small smile appeared on her face.

This was the life she wanted.

Freedom.

Choices.

Adventures.

The ability to decide her own future.

Not because she hated relationships.

Not because she was afraid of commitment.

She simply liked her life.

Why did that seem so difficult for people to understand?

"Escaping again?"

A familiar voice interrupted her thoughts.

Aanya turned.

Her younger brother, Karan, walked onto the terrace carrying two cups of coffee.

"You're my favorite person."

"I know."

He handed her a cup.

"What did they say this time?"

She groaned.

"What don't they say?"

Karan laughed.

"The marriage interrogation?"

"The marriage interrogation."

They stood quietly for a moment.

Watching city lights flicker in the distance.

Unlike most people, Karan never pressured her.

Never judged her.

Never tried convincing her that happiness came with a husband attached.

"If it helps," he said, "I think you're doing fine."

Aanya smiled.

"You want something."

"I always want something."

"There it is."

He grinned.

"Can you review my presentation tomorrow?"

"There it is."

---

The drive home later that night was unusually quiet.

Their parents sat in the front seats.

Aanya and Karan occupied the back.

For a while, nobody spoke.

Then her mother cleared her throat.

Aanya instantly knew where this was going.

"Beta."

Here we go.

"Hm?"

"We met someone today."

Aanya closed her eyes.

Of course they did.

"A family friend."

"Maa..."

"Just listen."

Her mother turned around slightly.

"He seems like a nice boy."

Karan immediately buried his face behind his phone to hide his laughter.

Traitor.

Aanya stared out the window.

"Maa, I'm not interested."

"You haven't even met him."

"I don't want to meet him."

Her father finally joined the conversation.

"Nobody is forcing you."

Which usually meant they were absolutely going to try.

"We only want you to consider it."

Aanya softened slightly.

Because that was the problem.

Her parents weren't villains.

They weren't controlling.

They genuinely loved her.

Which made refusing them much harder.

"We'll talk later," she said quietly.

Her mother sighed.

But thankfully dropped the topic.

For now.

---

That night, Aanya lay awake in bed.

The city lights filtered through her curtains.

Her apartment was peaceful.

Comfortable.

Entirely hers.

No compromises.

No expectations.

No responsibilities she hadn't chosen for herself.

Exactly how she liked it.

Marriage had never been part of the picture.

Not because she thought it was wrong.

But because she had never found a reason strong enough to change a life she already loved.

With that thought, she switched off the lamp and closed her eyes.

Completely unaware that somewhere across the city, a man named Aarav Malhotra was putting a little boy to bed.

And that within a few weeks, both their carefully planned lives were about to collide in ways neither of them could imagine.

To be continued...

At exactly 6:00 a.m., Aarav Malhotra's alarm rang.

He silenced it before it could ring a second time.

For a few seconds, he lay still, staring at the ceiling.

The house was quiet.

Peaceful.

The only time of day when nobody needed anything from him.

Then he sat up.

The moment was over.

His day had begun.

---

The kitchen lights flickered on as he prepared breakfast.

One hand stirred milk on the stove while the other packed a lunchbox.

A small container of fruit.

A sandwich cut into neat triangles.

A chocolate biscuit hidden underneath because someone would spend ten minutes negotiating breakfast otherwise.

By now, he could do it all without thinking.

It had become muscle memory.

Routine.

Life.

A few minutes later, soft footsteps padded across the floor.

Aarav glanced up.

A small figure stood in the doorway, clutching a stuffed dinosaur.

Messy hair.

Sleepy eyes.

A blue blanket dragging behind him.

Vihaan.

"Good morning, buddy."

The little boy blinked.

Then slowly walked over and wrapped his arms around Aarav's leg.

Aarav smiled.

The hug lasted only a few seconds.

But it was enough.

It always was.

---

Five years ago, mornings looked different.

Five years ago, his elder brother used to call him every Sunday.

Five years ago, there were family vacations being planned.

Birthday celebrations.

Future dreams.

Then one phone call changed everything.

Even now, Aarav remembered the feeling.

The disbelief.

The numbness.

The moment someone told him his brother and sister-in-law were gone.

Some days it still didn't feel real.

Some wounds simply learned how to stay quiet.

---

"Uncle."

A small voice interrupted his thoughts.

Aarav looked down immediately.

"Hm?"

Vihaan pointed toward the lunchbox.

"Biscuit?"

Caught.

Aarav laughed.

"You weren't supposed to find that until school."

A tiny smile appeared on Vihaan's face.

One of the rare ones.

The kind Aarav worked hard for.

The kind that made difficult days worth it.

---

An hour later, they were driving to preschool.

The city slowly woke around them.

Traffic increased.

Street vendors opened their stalls.

People hurried toward offices.

Vihaan sat quietly in the backseat, looking out the window.

Most children his age talked constantly.

Asked questions.

Demanded attention.

Vihaan didn't.

After losing his parents, something inside him had changed.

He spoke.

But rarely.

Only when he wanted to.

Only when he felt safe.

Doctors called it trauma.

Counselors called it grief.

Aarav simply called it healing.

And healing took time.

---

After dropping Vihaan at school, Aarav drove straight to work.

His company occupied three floors of a glass building in the city's business district.

Meetings began before he reached his office.

Emails flooded his inbox.

Deadlines waited impatiently.

By lunchtime, he had forgotten to eat.

Again.

His assistant reminded him twice.

He ignored her twice.

Finally, around three in the afternoon, his mother called.

Aarav answered immediately.

He always answered family calls.

"Did you have lunch?"

There it was.

The question she asked every day.

"Yes."

A lie.

His mother knew it too.

"Aarav."

"What?"

"You can't keep doing this."

Doing what?

Working?

Managing responsibilities?

Keeping everything together?

He had been doing it for years.

"I'm fine, Mom."

There was a pause.

Then she sighed.

The kind of sigh mothers use when they know their child is being stubborn.

"We're coming for dinner tonight."

"Okay."

"And don't order food."

"I wasn't planning to."

"You were."

Aarav smiled despite himself.

His mother knew him too well.

---

That evening, after picking up Vihaan from school, they returned home.

The house quickly filled with familiar voices.

His parents arrived carrying enough food to feed an entire neighborhood.

His father immediately occupied his favorite chair.

His mother took over the kitchen despite repeated protests.

And Vihaan suddenly became much more talkative.

Not with words.

But with smiles.

With hugs.

With little moments of happiness.

Aarav watched from across the room.

For a brief moment, everything felt normal.

Complete.

Then his mother sat beside him.

A dangerous sign.

"Aarav."

Here we go.

"Hm?"

"You need to think about your future."

There it was.

Right on schedule.

"My future is fine."

"What about companionship?"

"I'm not interested."

"What about yourself?"

Aarav didn't answer.

Because he genuinely didn't know.

Somewhere along the way, he had stopped thinking about himself.

Work.

Vihaan.

Responsibilities.

That was enough.

More than enough.

Marriage wasn't even on the list.

Not because he disliked it.

Simply because he had no room left for it.

And honestly?

He wasn't sure he wanted to make room.

Not anymore.

Across the room, Vihaan laughed quietly at something his grandfather did.

The sound made Aarav smile.

That smile stayed long after the conversation ended.

Completely unaware that somewhere else in the city, a woman named Aanya Sharma had just rejected another marriage proposal she never asked for.

And that fate was slowly moving them toward the same path.

To be continued...

Monday mornings were Aanya's least favorite part of adulthood.

Not because of work.

She actually loved her work.

What she disliked was the fact that weekends seemed to disappear in the blink of an eye.

By nine-thirty, she was already sitting through her second meeting of the day, armed with a notebook, a coffee that was rapidly getting cold, and a level of patience that was running dangerously low.

Fortunately, the meeting ended before she completely lost interest in humanity.

---

Lunch break was her favorite part of the workday.

Not because of the food.

Because it was usually when she got to catch up with her best friend and colleague, Rhea.

Unlike Aanya, who preferred observing before speaking, Rhea believed silence was a disease that needed immediate treatment.

"You know what happened this weekend?" Rhea asked dramatically as they settled at their usual table.

Aanya smiled.

"Knowing you, I'll find out even if I don't ask."

"Correct."

Aanya laughed.

One thing she genuinely enjoyed was listening to people talk about the things they cared about.

Everyone had stories.

Dreams.

Little details they thought nobody noticed.

And Aanya noticed everything.

It was one of the reasons people often opened up to her so easily.

Even strangers.

"Tell me."

Rhea immediately launched into a detailed story about her cousin's engagement, a family argument over wedding colors, and an uncle who somehow managed to get locked inside a banquet hall washroom.

Aanya listened with amusement.

Occasionally asking questions.

Occasionally laughing.

Mostly enjoying the fact that Rhea could turn the simplest event into a full-length drama series.

"You know," Rhea said suddenly, narrowing her eyes, "you'd make an excellent therapist."

"Because I listen?"

"Because you remember things."

Aanya frowned.

"What things?"

"Everything."

Rhea pointed her fork at her.

"Last month I casually mentioned my sister had an interview. Yesterday you asked if she got the job."

Aanya shrugged.

"Because you were worried about it."

"Exactly."

People mattered.

Their stories mattered.

And somehow Aanya always found herself curious about them.

Not in a nosy way.

In a genuine way.

She liked understanding what made people who they were.

Maybe that was why she enjoyed traveling alone so much.

Every place came with new stories.

New people.

New perspectives.

Life felt bigger when you paid attention.

---

The rest of the afternoon passed quickly.

By the time she reached her apartment, she was looking forward to nothing more than a quiet evening with a book and complete silence.

Unfortunately, life had other plans.

Her mother's name flashed on her phone screen.

Aanya immediately became suspicious.

Mothers never called at this hour without a reason.

"Hello?"

"Are you home?"

"Yes."

"We're coming over."

There it was.

The reason.

---

An hour later, her parents arrived carrying homemade food and expressions that suggested they were planning something.

Her father settled comfortably on the sofa.

Her mother wandered around inspecting the apartment as if conducting an official investigation.

"This corner would look nice with a plant."

"Maa."

"I'm just saying."

"It already has a plant."

"That plant looks lonely."

Aanya sighed.

Her mother ignored her.

Dinner began peacefully enough.

Work.

Family updates.

Karan's latest gym obsession.

Normal conversation.

Then her father cleared his throat.

Aanya instantly knew.

The marriage discussion had arrived.

"What?" she asked.

Her parents exchanged a glance.

Never a good sign.

"We met a family recently," her mother began carefully.

Aanya leaned back in her chair.

Of course they had.

"And?"

"There's someone we'd like you to meet."

There it was.

The sentence she'd heard countless times before.

Her mother slid a photograph across the table.

Aanya glanced at it briefly.

A well-dressed man.

Probably around thirty.

Serious expression.

Professional appearance.

She placed it back down.

Not interested.

Not curious.

Not even a little.

Which was unusual for her.

Because Aanya was naturally curious about almost everything.

Except this.

"Please meet him once," her mother said softly.

"Why?"

Her father smiled gently.

"Because sometimes the people we least expect become important."

Aanya shook her head.

She wasn't looking for anyone important.

She already had a life she loved.

And she intended to keep it that way.

Little did she know, somewhere across the city, a man named Aarav Malhotra was having a very similar conversation.

And neither of them realized that their carefully planned lives were already moving toward the same destination.

To be continued...