The street is almost empty. The light poles are talking to each other, maintaining social distance. As Bhumika and Sagar walk under the poles, a long yellow halo fills their shadows.

Vehicles drive past them.

Shops have been closed for the day.

The couple isn't sure they'd find a shop to buy coke.

Bhumika is still in her pyjamas, but her jewellery is gone. Their parents took her necklaces away to build a story. Sakuni accompanied them.

She has only her bangles, and they jingle and tingle. Her neck is bare like a beach after the golden sunset, and Sagar is avoiding looking at her.

Sagar has hands in the pockets of his grey sweatpants. His white t-shirt has a star-wars dialogue on it: May the force be with you.

Both of them hit the road to walk and talk. The wedding has to happen now. They can't go back, no matter how easy Bollywood fans think it is to cancel.

The wind comes and goes in installments. It's just a night for the people who aren't in love.

Bhumika lifts her eyes to her would-be. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not yet," Sagar replies.

He checks his phone. The wedding rituals will start in an hour and a half.

She nods, and they keep walking.

A street dog that's sleeping under a pole stands up with their presence. Bhumika slows down and hides behind Sagar. He doesn't stop for her.

As the dog remains dormant, she sighs in relief. She gets an urge to yell at him, but she knows he won't retaliate.

They turn left at the next intersection and an empty market area welcomes them. Few stalls on the roadside are enclosed in huge plastic sheets. The remaining has the shutters down. Bhumika is not comfortable with this place. Her eyes are expecting a drunken guy to pop out of nowhere.

Sagar sees her slowing down and grabs her hand. Her bangles scratch his skin and he doesn't look back.

The gesture alarms her, but she doesn't shun away. And they keep walking, though it's more like she's being pulled. She could tell it's not a caring gesture. More like a responsibility to keep her sane and safe.

At the end of the street, they find a light and go toward it. Like an oasis in the desert, it draws their thirst.

It's a grocery store taking stock late at night. The lady at the counter glances oddly at the couple. Sagar didn't expect any other reaction. That's what happens when people in wedding makeup enter places in night dresses.

Without talking, he goes to the aisles, still dragging her along. Bhumika said nothing, and he is glad she didn't. He's not in a mood to talk. He's just hungry.

He grabs a chips packet and Bhumika stops him. "It's not good to eat chips with an empty stomach."

"I want to eat chips."

"No."

She hauls him to another aisle.

As they go along, she picks two huge snicker bars and two biscuit packets. Then she takes him to the row of the fridges.

The coke pack stand shiny and cold in the front row. Sagar is waiting for her to grab a pack. And then the miracle happens. She picks a water bottle and a tiny almond milk bottle.

He's never seen her without a coke. He doesn't know how Bhumika looks without a coke. He doesn't know who this girl is, and it bothers him. As if they have entered a parallel timeline.

Then they walk to the counter. She spills everything in the basin beside the counter and turns back to him.

Sagar is quiet, glancing at her. He is wondering what she wants now.

"Do you want me to sell my bangles?" she says, raising her hands in the air.

"Oh!" he mumbles and steps forward. He scans the barcode and pays for the stuff.

They ignore the looks of the lady at the counter, who's putting everything into a bag and steps out of the store.

Sagar looks at Bhumika now. He looks at the back of her neck, her hair, her hands and her fingers. He wants to know how to talk to her normally. A chilling sensation of saying 'I love you' stops in his throat. He's not sure if he should say it anymore. To this girl. To Bhumika.

He repeats her name in his mind. Bhumika. Bhumika. Bhumika. Bhumi. Some names hurt, he thinks.

He tears his snickers bar open and says, "I thought you'd bring your phone with you."

"Why?" She's chewing hers already.

"Well, someone must call to pick you up."

She shrugs, disregarding his sarcasm. "Haven't you got the news yet? I cancelled the eloping."

"Is it official?"

She nods.

"What now?"

"We are getting married."

He chuckles. "That simple, huh?"

"Yep."

"Why, may I ask?"

She looks at him. "You may ask. Mohit never showed up."

He narrows his eyes. "Boyfriend?"

"Ex-boyfriend," she says.

"Ex? Already?"

Silence is her answer, and he doesn't push it.

"Am I the last choice?" He asks.

She loosens the cap of the almond milk bottle. "If you put it that way, yes."

"That's cool."

She takes a gulp and passes the bottle to him. "Now, may I ask why you didn't cancel the wedding?"

He takes the bottle. "It's horrible to get rejected by two guys the same day."

"Is that pity, Mr?" She cleans her lips with the t-shirt.

"If you put it that way," he says. "Yes."

"Maybe that's what our welcome board should be." Bhumika makes a board in the air with her hands. "Last choice weds pity."

"I like it," he says and throws the empty bottle on the road.

"Hey, don't do that." She picks it up and drops it in their bag.

That's when his phone chimes.

"Shit." He giggles.

"What?"

Sagar tilts his phone and shows her the text from his father: "Run."

He types back, "How did he find out?"

The reply comes: "Bhumika's cousins wouldn't believe the stolen necklace story. They are worried Sakuni is getting worse."

"Why do they worry about Sakuni?" Bhumi asks.

Before he answers they hear a scream and look ahead. Sakuni is few feet away, bending and panting like a raged bull.

"What happened? Why is he running?"

"Don't you remember!" Sagar yells. "Of course, you don't. The joke we were laughing about in the engagement picture?"

She nods her head. "I remember. We told my cousins that one of your friends is kind of mentally ill and not to . . . " She gasps and glances at Sagar, her eyes wide. "Ahh, we made Sakuni the mental guy. Why would you involve me in that?" She yells.

He points his finger at her. "Hey, my mom made me do that. She didn't want him to flirt with your cousins. She said it's embarrassing."

"But the friend we showed had a beard," she yells again.

"He shaved for the wedding." Sagar steps backwards.

"If both of you don't stop . . " Sakuni's voice echoes in the silence of the street. He takes out a shining something from his pocket. "You are not going to get married."

Bhumi steps towards him although Sagar advised her against it. She glints at this shiny thing and says, "Oh my god, he stole the Mangalsutram."

"Let him have the Mangalsutram. I don't care. I'm not going near him unless my mother is around," Sagar says.

"Do you know another way to the wedding hall?"

Sagar thinks for a second and extends his hand.

Bhumi takes it and they slip into one of the streets. They don't mind Sakuni's yells saying he'd sell the Mangalsutram and run straight to the hall.

* * *

*5th July, 3:30 a.m.

My phone's battery is at eighteen percent, and I have very little time. The priest is calling me, so I better keep this quick.

We'd have to announce to every relative that Sakuni isn't mental for him to give us back the Mangalsutram. Sagar's mother dealt with him with ease. I like Sakuni. I don't know why, but his presence makes me feel lighter. He hates me for hurting his friend though.

Mohit never showed up. He is not returning my calls, either. I prefer not to think about why. He was there in my life when I was mentally beaten, alone, and hurt. Making him a bad guy only impairs those memories.

When coming back from the store, Sagar kept asking why I agreed to this wedding. I couldn't tell him that when Sakuni made a joke about eloping, everyone laughed. When Sagar's mom leaned on his father, it twisted my heart. I looked down at my father and realized what I've not until now. He has no one else except me. If I get married and leave, he will still be alone, but he'd be happy. How to answer that without sounding like a huge fuckup?

By the time we neared the hall, Sagar had thanked me. The Mr Perfect guy thanked me. I was shocked, just like anyone else. He's supposed to hate me. Yet, he hugged me out of the blue and thanked me for trying to elope.

He said I was the reason for the changes in him.

I was the reason he yelled at someone for the first time.

I was the reason he cried, which he didn't do in a while.

I was the reason he found out how painful loving someone would be.

He said that we can still prefer divorce. It's aching to know that I drained the hope of love out of him. I didn't give a reply, but I don't want a divorce. I still can feel everything he lost this night in that hug. All because of me. I don't love him, but perhaps I can make things easy for him. Like what my mother always asked me: live up to my name.

How much ever I justify, the craving to escape this wedding is with me. I'm trying to change, I promise. But, it's so painful, mom. The fact that I have to love someone else new is bothering me. The doubt has a life of its own, growing and dying on me like skin cells.

If I end up falling in love with Sagar, will it stop hurting me?

***

THE END

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