Shetty Villa — Kiara's Room
The soft chime of the doorbell echoed through the corridor before a staff member appeared at Kiara's door, holding an ornate box wrapped in ivory silk.
"Ma'am, this has come from the Pratap Singh mansion," he said respectfully.
Kiara looked up from the scattered bangles on her bed. "For me?"
"Yes, Ma'am. Bhoomi Ma'am insisted it be delivered personally,she said it was her engagement lehenga."
Kiara's breath hitched. She took the box with both hands, a strange heaviness settling in her chest even before she opened it.
The staff bowed and left quietly.
Kiara slowly untied the silk ribbon.
The lid lifted.
Inside lay the lehenga — newly renewed, its deepened colour glowing under the warm lamp, every thread shimmering like a blessing passed down through generations.
Kiara's throat closed up.
Her eyes filled before she could stop them.
Anya, who had been scrolling on the couch, immediately sat up. "Kiara… hey, what happened? Why do you look like that?"
Kiara pressed a hand to her mouth, trying to steady her breath. "It's just… this lehenga…"
Anya came closer. "You're crying. Tell me why."
Kiara sat down on the edge of the bed, fingers trembling as they brushed the fabric.
"When I was six… Mom died."
Her voice broke softly, like a childhood wound being reopened.
Anya's expression softened instantly.
Kiara continued, her tears silently rolling down her cheeks.
"You know… every girl grows up dreaming about her wedding. And in every dream, her mother is always there. Helping her choose the jewellery, fussing about the makeup, fixing her veil, blessing her, teasing her… just— being there."
She blinked through the tears, inhaling shakily.
"My mom… Kajal… she didn't get to do any of those things with me."
Her voice trembled.
"She never got to see me grow into who I am. She never got to tell me what kind of bride she imagined me to be. She never got to tell me if she'd approve of the man I'm going to marry."
A tear dropped directly onto the lehenga embroidery.
"I have Dad. I have Karan bhai. They've given me everything a girl could ask for. But a mother's presence…" She placed a hand over her heart. "It's different. It's irreplaceable."
Anya gently rubbed her back. "Kiara…"
"But then," Kiara said, wiping her cheeks, "life has its own strange way of giving back what it takes."
Her voice steadied, becoming softer… warmer.
"God took my mom too early… but He also gave me Bhoomi aunty. A second mother. Someone who cares for me, thinks for me, protects me."
A faint smile touched her lips.
"And today… she sent me her engagement lehenga."
The weight of that sank in for her all over again.
"That's not just a gift. That's love. That's acceptance. That's her telling me — 'Kiara, you're not just marrying my son. You're becoming my daughter.'"
Her voice softened to a whisper.
"And that means the world to a girl like me… who has longed for that motherly warmth since the day she lost it."
She brushed her fingers over the lehenga again, almost reverently.
"It feels like… Mom sent her blessing through Bhoomi aunty."
Anya hugged her tightly. "Kiara… she would've been so proud of you. Anyone would."
Kiara closed her eyes, letting the warmth of the hug steady her heart.
"I know," she whispered. "I just wish… she could've been here. Just for today."
After Anya left to give her a moment alone, the room settled into a gentle silence. The lamp glowed softly against the peach walls, the lehenga resting neatly on the bed like a blessing wrapped in tradition.
Kiara walked to her dresser with slow, careful steps.
She opened the drawer where she kept it safe —
a photograph tucked in a silver frame.
Her mother, Kajal Shetty.
Long hair cascading over her shoulders.
A soft smile that always looked like sunshine.
Eyes full of mischief and warmth — the kind of eyes that could calm an entire storm.
Kiara lifted the frame, her fingertips lingering on her mother's face.
Her voice came out low and fragile.
"Mom… it's me."
She sat on the floor, the photo held close to her chest before she slowly placed it on her lap.
"You know," she whispered, a small tear slipping down, "I thought I was okay. I thought I had made peace with everything. I thought I'd grown up enough to not feel this ache anymore."
She swallowed hard.
"It's been so many years… but today— today I feel like that six-year-old girl again. Lost. Missing you. Needing you."
Her eyes softened as she traced Kajal's cheek in the picture.
"Mom, I'm getting engaged again," she whispered, her smile trembling. "To Yuvaan. I know you don't know him… but he's— he's everything. He's stubborn and annoying and impossible… but he loves me like you'd want someone to love your daughter."
Her voice cracked with a tender laugh.
"And today… Bhoomi aunty sent me her engagement lehenga. She said she wants me to wear it. Mom… she treats me like her own child."
Kiara's gaze grew watery again.
"Are you happy, Mom?"
Her voice trembled.
"Are you proud of me? Of the woman I've become? Of the man I'm choosing?"
The photo blurred as more tears filled her eyes.
"Sometimes I wish… just once… you'd walk into my room and tell me how I look."
A breath shuddered through her chest.
"I wish you were here to hold my face and kiss my forehead and say, 'My Kiara is the most beautiful bride in the world.'"
She pressed the frame to her heart.
"Are you watching me, Mom?"
Her voice fell to a whisper.
"Do you miss me… even half as much as I miss you?"
A faint breeze stirred the curtain at that exact moment.
Kiara stilled.
The air felt… warm. Gentle. Almost like someone's hand softly brushing her hair.
Her eyes glistened with wonder and ache.
She smiled tearfully, whispering—
"I'll take that as a yes."