Three Months Before the Breakup
Chauhan Family Estate, Lake Pichola, Udaipur
The afternoon sunlight glided gently across the still surface of Lake Pichola, reflecting the ivory-white Chauhan mansion that stood proudly along the shore. Built in authentic Rajasthani style, the estate blended grandeur with delicate local artistry—pristine white walls adorned with intricate pink sandstone carvings unique to Udaipur.
Surrounding the mansion was a lush garden meticulously tended, blooming with roses of every hue and fragrant frangipani trees that released a soft, calming scent. A marble pavilion by the lake served as a quiet retreat for the family, a place where time seemed to slow.
Inside, the spacious living room was adorned with a magnificent Persian rug and finely carved wooden furniture. Sunlight filtered through tall stained-glass windows, unveiling a breathtaking view of the lake beyond. Yet no scenery, however beautiful, could rival the young woman seated by the window.
Ambika Chauhan sat comfortably in a cushioned rattan chair, a book resting lightly in her hands. She wore a pale blue cotton sari, simple yet graceful. Her long black hair cascaded freely down her slender back, framing her oval face and soft smile. Her bright eyes sparkled whenever the story amused her.
Just as she turned another page, her mother's voice drifted in from the dining room.
"Ami, dear—come help me set the table. We have important guests tonight."
"Yes, Mother," Ambika replied cheerfully.
She placed the book aside and hurried toward the dining room, where Mrs. Chauhan was busy preparing for the evening reception.
A long mahogany dining table was dressed in cream-colored linen embroidered with golden floral patterns. Fine English porcelain plates and polished silverware were arranged with precision, while a crystal vase filled with fresh pink lotus flowers stood elegantly at the center.
Ambika helped place crystal glasses and folded napkins with practiced ease, her smile never fading.
"Tonight, we must take excellent care of our guests," Mrs. Chauhan said while giving everything a final inspection. "Especially the family of Rafi Sheikh. They're influential businesspeople from Mumbai, and there will be several distinguished guests as well."
"I understand," Ambika nodded, then hesitated slightly. "But… does Sister Amu know?"
At the mention of her elder daughter, Mrs. Chauhan sighed softly.
"I told her, but who knows if she's paying attention. That child…"
Ambika laughed quietly. "If I had to guess, she's probably somewhere in the house making that bored expression of hers."
Mrs. Chauhan shook her head with affectionate amusement. "You really are a talkative one."
Upstairs – Ammavadi's Bedroom
The bedroom was spacious, decorated in soft gold and cream tones. Silk curtains flowed elegantly from the high ceiling to the plush carpet below.
Ammavadi Chauhan sat before her vanity, dressed in a vivid pink silk sari. With an ivory comb, she slowly brushed her long hair, her movements languid and distracted. Her light brown eyes reflected boredom mixed with an unspoken restlessness, a sigh escaping her lips every so often.
The door opened, and Ambika stepped inside with her usual bright smile.
"P'Amu, we're having a reception tonight. There will be many guests—Mother and Father want us to help welcome them."
Ammavadi let out a long breath.
"Ami… sometimes I'm so tired of these gatherings. Smiling endlessly, making polite conversation about things I don't truly care about." Her voice softened. "I want to do something that actually means something to my life."
Ambika sat beside her sister, honey-colored eyes filled with empathy. She gently took Ammavadi's hand.
"I understand how you feel."
"There's so much more in this world, Ami… beyond tea parties and polite smiles." Ammavadi's voice trembled as years of suppressed frustration surfaced.
"A life already mapped out—what I should do, who I should be… even love."
She paused, swallowing hard.
"Shiva… he's wonderful to me. Too wonderful. But sometimes, his love feels like a wall—protecting me from the world, yet trapping me inside it. All I see is him… and this house."
"But he loves you so much," Ambika said softly. "And he's supported everything you've wanted. Your boutique—he even spoke to Father for you, didn't he?"
"I know," Ammavadi whispered. "And that only makes me feel more guilty."
Her eyes glistened as she fought back tears.
"But I still dream of a life that challenges me more. A life where I'm simply Ammavadi—not just the eldest daughter of the Chauhan family… or Shiva's future wife."
Ambika watched her sister in silence before leaning in and wrapping her arms around her.
"No matter what happens, I'll always be by your side."
Ammavadi smiled faintly and returned the embrace.
No matter how lonely she felt, Ambika was the one person who gave her the strength to go on—the most precious thing in her life, just as their parents always said.
"Thank you, Ami… you're the best sister anyone could ask for."
That Evening
As the sun dipped below the horizon, the Chauhan estate shimmered under the warm glow of crystal lanterns lining the lakeside garden. A string quartet played softly as guests arrived, filling the air with elegance and charm.
Business tycoons, officials, and influential figures gathered, dressed in exquisite traditional attire. Women adorned in vibrant saris and lehengas glittered with jewels, while men wore finely embroidered sherwanis.
Ammavadi stood beside her mother, welcoming guests with a poised smile. Dressed in a rose-pink lehenga embroidered with gold sequins, her beauty was radiant—yet her smile felt strangely restrained.
Then, the arrival of Rafi Sheikh drew attention.
Tall, confident, and dressed in an ivory sherwani trimmed with gold, Rafi entered with his stunning elder sister, Leila Sheikh. His sharp eyes carried ambition, and his presence alone commanded notice.
Among the crowd, Rafi's gaze suddenly fixed on one woman.
"Who is she?" he asked softly.
Ali, his close friend, followed his gaze and smirked. "That's Ammavadi Chauhan—the host's eldest daughter."
"Beautiful," Rafi murmured, unable to look away.
Moments later, she approached.
"Welcome to Udaipur, and to our home," Ammavadi greeted politely.
Their eyes met.
Time seemed to pause.
Opportunity, ambition, and longing quietly crossed paths that night—
and somewhere deep within Ammavadi's heart, a path she never intended to see began to appear.