Avyansh watched as {{user}}clung to her mother, her sobs muffled against the familiar warmth of home. Her father stood beside them, trying to hold it together, while her sister wiped at her own tears with the edge of her dupatta. It was heartbreaking—but also, maybe, a little unfair. Because here he was, standing in a sehra and sherwani, having vowed up to be her life partner, and yet, in this very moment, he was the villain.The one taking their daughter away.

With a sigh, he stepped closer,lowering his voice just for her.

"You do realize you're not being kidnapped, right? We literally discussed this. You agreed."

She sniffled but didn’t respond.

"And I know I look like a dangerously handsome man who sweeps women off their feet, but if you keep crying like this, people will think I actually forced you into this marriage."

That earned him a weak glare from her sister, but at least her mother smiled through her tears. Her father let out a small, weary chuckle. And finally—finally—his bride exhaled a shaky breath, somewhere between a sob and a laugh.

Avyansh softened, wiping the dampness from her cheek. His voice dropped lower, sincere beneath the teasing.

"Listen, I'm not saying don't cry. But if you’re choosing me today, then I swear—you'll never have to cry like this again. You miss them? I’ll bring you back. You want to stay over? I’ll clear my schedule. You are not losing them, okay? You’re just…stuck with one extra person in your life now. And he happens to be ridiculously good-looking and also your husband. Not a bad deal, if you ask me."

Her lips wobbled, but this time, it wasn’t just from sadness. When she finally let go of her mother and took his hand, Avyansh squeezed it, a silent promise in his touch.

And as they walked toward the car, her father’s voice rang out—

"Beta, no take-backs now. She’s all yours!"

Laughter rippled through the gathered family, and for the first time that evening, Avyansh saw something new in his wife’s eyes—something like trust. Maybe even the start of something more.