Morning - 7:00 AM (Hyderabad) / 2:30 AM (Maranello)
Rishaan's POV:
Rishaan's phone had been buzzing non-stop since he woke up. Not just messages from friends, those he expected but notifications from Instagram, Twitter, Facebook, even LinkedIn.
The video of him singing at the restaurant had gone viral.
He stared at his phone in disbelief. Meher's video, which she'd posted with the caption "When your heartbroken friend reminds you he has hidden talents đžâ€ïž @RishaanChowdary #JerseySong #LiveMusic," had somehow exploded overnight.
50,000 views. Then 100,000. Now it was approaching 500,000 and still climbing.
The comments were overwhelming:
"His voice is so raw and emotional! Who is this guy??"
"The way he's singing this with his whole heart đ"
"I need a man who sings Jersey songs while missing me"
"Okay but he's HANDSOME and TALENTED?? Where do I find one?"
"The guitar skills!! The vocals!! The emotion!! 10/10"
And then, buried in the comments, the ones that made his stomach drop:
"Wait, isn't this Rishaan Chowdary? From Chowdary Textiles?"
"That's definitely him. I recognize him from business magazines."
"Rich businessman who sings Telugu love songs? I'm deceased."
His work phone rang. Prerna's name flashing on screen.
"Please tell me you've seen the video," she said immediately upon answering.
"I've seen it."
"It has half a million views, Rishaan. HALF A MILLION. My phone has been ringing non stop with media requests. They want interviews, they want to know who you were singing about, they wantâ"
"Tell them all no. Decline everything."
"Even the business magazines? They're calling it 'humanizing' and 'relateable.'"
"Especially the business magazines. This was a private moment that accidentally went public. I'm not turning it into a publicity opportunity."
"Okay." She paused. "For what it's worth, the video is beautiful. And whoever you were singing to is very lucky."
"Thanks, Prerna."
"Also, your mother called the office this morning."
His stomach sank further. "What did she want?"
"She asked if I knew about 'the video making you look unprofessional.' I told her I hadn't seen it and transferred her to voicemail."
"You're a lifesaver."
"I know. That's why you pay me. Speaking of which, Aditya wants to know if you're okay. He's worried the attention might be overwhelming."
"I'm fine. Just... not prepared for this level of visibility."
After hanging up with Prerna, Rishaan sat at his dining table with his coffee, staring at his phone. He should call his parents, address this before it became a bigger issue.
But first, he needed advice from the one person who always saw things clearly.
He called his grandmother.
Savitri answered on the third ring, her face appearing on screen with a knowing smile. "Chinna! I was wondering when you'd call."
"You've seen the video."
"Everyone has seen the video, Rishaan. You're quite famous this morning."
"Nannamma, this is a disasterâ"
"This is not a disaster. This is a beautiful thing being shared with the world. You sang from your heart, and people responded to that authenticity."
"My mother doesn't see it that way."
"Your mother sees everything through the lens of 'what will people think.' She's been like that since she married into this familyâalways worried about image and status and respectability."Nannamma's expression softened. "But you, my child, you've never cared about those things. You've always been genuine. That's what makes you special."
"The comments are saying I'm singing about someone. They're asking who she is."
"And are you going to tell them?"
"No. Samaira deserves privacy. This is between us."
"Good. Protect her privacy. But don't be ashamed of your feelings, Rishaan. Love or whatever you're feeling for this girlâthat's nothing to hide."
He smiled despite himself. "Who said anything about love?"
"Please. I raised you. I know that look. I heard that song. You're in love with her, whether you've admitted it to yourself or not."
"Nannammaâ"
"I'm right. I'm always right." She leaned closer to the camera. "Now tell me, how is she? How was the race?"
"She won. Well, Ferrari won. P1 and P2. Perfect strategy, perfect execution. She was brilliant."
"Of course she was. And you watched the whole thing?"
"Every second. The friends came over, we made a whole day of it. When Ferrari crossed the finish line first, we were all screaming like we'd personally won something."
"That's love, beta. When someone else's victory feels like your own."
"You keep using that word."
"Because it's true. Now, have you talked to her today? About the video?"
"Not yet. It's the middle of the night in Italy. I'll call her when she wakes up."
"Good. And listen to me, Rishaan, don't let your parents make you feel ashamed of this. You sang a beautiful song for a girl who matters to you. That's romantic, not embarrassing. If they can't see that, that's their limitation, not yours."
After they hung up, Rishaan felt marginally better. But he still needed to address his parents before they heard about it from someone else, though given the video's reach, they likely already had.
He called his mother.
She answered immediately, her expression tight with disapproval. "Rishaan."
"Amma."
"I assume you're calling about the video that half of Hyderabad has sent me this morning?"
"I'm calling to explainâ"
"Explain what? That you decided to perform at a restaurant like some street musician? That you're singing love songs in public? That people are gossiping about who you're singing to?"
"I was with friends. It was a casual thing, someone recorded itâ"
"Someone recorded it and now it's everywhere. Do you know how many people have asked me about it? Relatives, business associates, society friends, everyone wants to know about this 'romantic side' of my son."
"I'm sorry if it embarrassed youâ"
"It's not just embarrassing, Rishaan. It's unprofessional. You're supposed to be taking over the family business, being taken seriously as a businessman. This makes you look... frivolous."
"Singing one song makes me frivolous?"
"Being so public about your personal life does. And about that, the comments are speculating about who you were singing to. Is this related to the girl you mentioned? The one who works for Ferrari?"
Rishaan's jaw tightened. "Her name is Samaira. And yes, I was thinking about her when I sang."
"I see. And is this relationship serious enough that you're singing love songs about her on the internet?"
"I didn't intend for it to go on the internet. But yes, it's serious. Very serious."
"Then I suppose we'll need to meet her family soon. Arrange a proper introduction, make sure this is suitableâ"
"Amma, with all due respect, I don't need your approval of who I date."
Silence. Then: "I'm your mother, Rishaan. Of course you need my approval."
"I'm twenty-eight years old. I've built my own company, I manage your textile business, I live independently. I don't need permission to date someone."
"But you need family support if this is going to be serious. And that means introductions, meeting her family, understanding her backgroundâ"
"I'll introduce you when I'm ready. Right now, this is between me and her."
His mother's expression hardened. "Your father won't be pleased about this video."
"Then Nanna can call me himself and express his displeasure. I'm not a child anymore, Amma. I'm allowed to have a personal life."
They ended the call shortly after, tense and unresolved, exactly as Rishaan had expected.
He sat there for a long moment, feeling the familiar weight of parental expectations pressing down on him.
Then his phone buzzed with a text from Samaira.
Ira: I just woke up to 47 messages about a video? What's happening?
He smiled despite everything and called her immediately.
Morning - 7:45 AM (Hyderabad) / 3:15 AM (Maranello)
Samaira's POV:
Samaira answered Rishaan's video call still in bed, hair messy, wearing an old t-shirt, clearly confused.
"Good morning, bangaram," Rishaan said, and despite the exhaustion in his voice, he smiled when he saw her.
"Morning. Shaan, what's going on? Why do I have messages from Anvitha, Meher, my mother, three Ferrari colleagues, and someone I went to university with asking about a video?"
"Ah. Right. So... remember how Meher recorded me singing at the restaurant?"
"Yes?"
"She posted it on social media. And it... went viral."
Samaira sat up fully. "Define viral."
"Half a million views as of an hour ago. Still climbing. Comments, shares, people trying to figure out who I am and who I was singing about."
"Oh my god."
"Yeah."
"Shaan, that'sâhow are you handling this?"
"I've declined all media requests, blocked my social media comments, and had a very unpleasant conversation with my mother about how singing in public is 'unprofessional.'"
Samaira's expression shifted from shock to concern. "Your mother saw it?"
"Everyone saw it. That's the nature of viral videos." He ran a hand through his hair. "But I don't care about the views or the attention. I care that you're okay with this. I was singing about you, Ira. People are speculating about that. I've kept your name completely private, butâ"
"Shaan, breathe," she interrupted gently. "I'm not upset. Surprised, yes. But not upset."
"You're not?"
"Why would I be? You sang a beautiful song that happened to be recorded and shared. That's not something to be ashamed of."
"My mother thinks it makes me look frivolous."
"Your mother is wrong." Samaira's voice was firm. "That video shows you being genuine and vulnerable and creative. Those are good things, Shaan. Admirable things."
"You're not embarrassed to be associated with it?"
"Embarrassed? I've watched that video approximately fifteen times since Meher sent it to me. I cried every single time. I'm honored to be the person you were thinking about, even if the world doesn't know it's me."
He visibly relaxed. "I was worried you'd think it was too much. Too public, too exposed."
"It's a lot of attention, yes. But it's also really beautiful. And honestly?" She smiled, a bit mischievous. "My Ferrari colleagues have been gossiping about how handsome you are all morning. They don't understand Telugu, but they understand attractive men with guitars singing emotional songs."
"Your colleagues are gossiping about me?"
"Oh yes. Elenaâone of the senior engineers said, and I quote, 'Whoever has that man is very lucky. He has the face of a model and the soul of a poet.'"
"That's embarrassing."
"That's accurate. And Marcoâmy boss asked if 'the guitarist' is someone I know, because apparently I was smiling at my phone all morning."
"What did you tell him?"
"That I might know him. That he might be special to me. That they should mind their business and focus on the Canadian Grand Prix prep." She was grinning now. "But Elena stole my phone during lunch and watched the video three times."
"I don't know if I should be flattered or mortified."
"Be flattered. You're viral for being talented and emotional, not for doing something stupid. That's a good kind of viral."
They talked for another twenty minutes, her getting ready for her factory day while he prepared for his office day, before she had to leave.
"Shaan?" she said as they were about to hang up.
"Yeah?"
"Thank you for singing that song. For thinking about me. For being brave enough to be vulnerable even when you didn't know it would be shared with the world."
"Always, bangaram. Always."
After they disconnected, Samaira sat in her small Italian apartment, replaying the video one more time.
Half a million people had seen this now. But it was hers. It would always be hers.
Evening - 8:30 PM (Hyderabad) / 4:00 PM (Maranello)
Samaira's POV:
Samaira was leaving the Ferrari factory when her mother called.
"Hi, Amma," she answered, already knowing what this conversation would be about.
"Chinni! I just watched the video!"
"The one that everyone and their neighbor has apparently seen?"
"That one!" Her mother sounded delighted. "Beta, that boy sang for you! He sang Jersey's most romantic song thinking about you!"
"Ammaâ"
"And he's so handsome! Your nanna and I watched it five times. He has such a nice voice, and the way he plays guitarâ"
"Amma, it's getting a lot of attentionâ"
"Of course it is! It's beautiful! Romantic! My daughter has a man who sings love songs about her!" Lakshmi's voice was warm with approval. "This is exactly the kind of man you deserve, Samaira. One who isn't afraid to show his feelings, who expresses himself creatively, who clearly adores you."
"You're not concerned about the publicity?"
"Why would I be concerned? He's being respectful, keeping your name private, showing the world that he cares about you through art. That's lovely, beta. Not scandalous."
Samaira felt emotion clog her throat. "Thanks, Amma."
"Now tell me, how is he handling all this attention? Boys can be sensitive about going viral."
"He's managing. A bit overwhelmed, but okay. His mother wasn't pleased though."
"Hmm. Traditional family?"
"Very. Concerned about image and professionalism."
"Well, then it's good he has you to remind him that being genuine is more important than being perfect." Lakshmi paused. "And it's good you have us to remind you that you're allowed to be happy, chinni. Even when your career is demanding, even when you live far away, you're allowed to have someone who sings for you."
"I know, Amma. Thank you."
"Your nanna wants to talk. Hold onâ"
Her father's voice came through, gruff but affectionate. "Bangaram."
"Hi, Nanna."
"That boy has good taste in songs. Jersey is a classic."
"It is."
"And he sings well. Not professionally trained, but sincere. That matters more than technical perfection."
"I think so too."
"Your amma and I approve of him. Just so you know. When you're ready to bring him around formally, we'll welcome him properly."
Samaira smiled, tears pricking her eyes. "Thanks, Nanna. That means a lot."
After the call ended, she sat in her car for a few minutes, processing the difference between her parents' reactions and what Rishaan had described from his mother.
Her parents: supportive, enthusiastic, focused on emotional authenticity.
His parents: critical, concerned about image, focused on professionalism and propriety.
No wonder he struggled with family expectations. No wonder he'd learned to guard his genuine self so carefully.
She texted him:
Samaira: Just talked to my parents. They've watched the video five times. My mother called you handsome and romantic. My father approved of your song choice and sincerity.
Shaan: That's... that's really nice to hear. Thank you for telling me.
Samaira: They're excited to meet you properly when I'm home. No pressure, just they wanted you to know you're welcome in our family.
Shaan: That means more than you know, Ira. My parents' reaction was... different.
Samaira: I know. But their limitations aren't your fault, and they definitely aren't reflections of your worth.
Shaan: How are you so wise?
Samaira: Engineering brain. We solve problems logically.
Shaan: That's not logic, that's empathy. But I'll take it.
Samaira: Take it. Keep it. You deserve to be appreciated for who you are, Shaan. Exactly as you are.
Shaan: Same to you, bangaram. Same to you.
Wednesday Evening - 7:30 PM (Hyderabad) / 3:00 PM (Maranello)
Rishaan's POV:
The video had finally started to die down, still circulating, but no longer trending. Rishaan had successfully avoided most of the attention, and life was slowly returning to normal.
Except for one thing that kept nagging at him.
His cousin Pranav's wedding was in ten days. The pre-wedding ceremonies started three days before that. Which meant in one week, he'd be gone for nearly a week, attending functions, meeting relatives, dealing with family obligations.
And Samaira would land from Canada one days before the wedding begins, giving them barely one day together before Anvitha's wedding chaos began.
Unless...
The idea had been forming for days, but he'd been too nervous to articulate it. Too worried about what it meant, what he was asking, whether it was too soon or too presumptuous.
But sitting in his apartment on Wednesday evening, watching Samaira on video call as she made herself dinner in her tiny Italian kitchen, he decided to just ask.
"Ira, I want to talk to you about something."
She looked up from the pasta she was cooking. "That sounds serious."
"It's not seriousâwell, it is serious, but not bad serious. More like... significant serious."
"Shaan, you're rambling. What's going on?"
He took a breath. "I want to tell my parents that I'm seeing someone. Officially, directly, not just in passing comments."
She set down her cooking spoon, giving him her full attention. "Okay. Why now?"
"Because I'm tired of hiding it. Tired of casual mentions and deflecting questions. You matter to me, Ira. You're not some casual thing I'm trying out. You'reâ" he paused, searching for words, "âyou're the person I want in my life. Permanently. Seriously. And I want my family to know that."
"I appreciate that, Shaan. But what does officially telling them look like?"
"That's what I wanted to ask you about." He ran a hand through his hair, nervous. "Pranav's weddingâmy cousinâit's in ten days. All my extended family will be there. My parents, my other cousins, aunts, uncles, everyone."
"Right. The wedding that's cutting into our time together."
"Exactly. But here's the thingâseveral of my cousins are bringing their partners. Girlfriends, boyfriends, some are engaged, some are just dating. It's become this family tradition where the weddings are opportunities to introduce significant others."
Samaira was quiet, clearly processing where this was going.
"I want to ask you to come with me," Rishaan said in a rush. "To Pranav's wedding. As my girlfriend. To meet my family properly, to be there with me, toâto be introduced as the person I'm with."
Silence.
"But," he continued quickly, "I want your consent before I plan anything. I know this is big. I know it's a lot to askâmeeting my entire extended family, dealing with questions and scrutiny, being in that environment. I won't ask my cousin if I can bring someone unless you're completely comfortable with it."
"Shaanâ"
"And I know the timing is terrible. You'll be exhausted from Canada, you'll have jet lag, you'll need to prepare for Anvitha's wedding right after. So if you say no, I completely understand. I justâI wanted to ask. Because the alternative is going alone and wishing you were there the entire time."
Samaira had stopped cooking entirely, just watching him through the screen with an expression he couldn't quite read.
"Are you done?" she asked gently.
"I think so?"
"Okay. Let me think out loud for a minute." She leaned against her kitchen counter. "You want me to attend your cousin's wedding as your girlfriend. Which means meeting your parents for the first time in a formal capacity. Meeting your extended family. Being introduced as your partner to people who will have opinions and questions."
"Yes."
"And this is important to you. Making us official in your family's eyes."
"Very important."
"Even though your mother has already expressed concern about me based on very limited information."
"Especially because of that. I want her to actually meet you, see who you are, understand that you're incredible. Not just make judgments based on assumptions."
Samaira was quiet for a long moment, and Rishaan forced himself not to fill the silence with more rambling justifications.
Finally, she spoke. "I need to ask you something first."
"Anything."
"If I come, if I meet your family, and they're not supportiveâif they're critical or cold or disapprovingâhow will you handle that?"
"I'll handle it by making it clear that their approval isn't required for me to be with you."
"Shaanâ"
"I'm serious, Ira. You're asking if I'll defend you, protect you, make sure you're treated with respect? The answer is absolutely yes. I won't let anyone disrespect you. Not my mother, not my relatives, not anyone."
"That could create family conflict."
"Then there will be family conflict. But I won't stand by while someone makes you uncomfortable or treats you as less than you are."
"Your parents might not take that well."
"My parents stopped having final say in my life when I became an adult. They've been trying to control me through guilt and obligation for years, but with you? With this? I won't let them."
She studied him through the screen. "You're sure about this? About bringing me, about potentially standing up to your family, about making this public within your family circle?"
"I've never been more sure of anything."
"Even though we've only been together officially for what, two weeks?"
"Even though. Ira, listen to meâ" he leaned closer to the camera, "âI know it's fast. I know two weeks isn't that long in the grand scheme of things. But I also know what I feel. I know that you matter to me in ways no one else ever has. I know that hiding you from my family feels wrong, like I'm ashamed of us, which I'm absolutely not."
"You're not ashamed of dating someone your family might not approve of?"
"I'm proud of dating someone my family doesn't deserve. There's a difference."
A smile tugged at her lips. "That was smooth."
"That was honest."
She took a breath. "Okay."
"Okay?"
"Okay, I'll come. I'll meet your family at the wedding. I'll be introduced as your girlfriend."
Relief and excitement flooded through him. "Really?"
"Really. On one condition."
"Anything."
"You promise to warn me if your mother starts asking invasive questions. I'm good at handling difficult people professionally, but I need heads-up when things are getting uncomfortable."
"I promise. I'll be right there the entire time. You won't be alone in any conversation."
"Good. Then yes, let's do this. Let's make it official."
Rishaan felt something settle in his chestâdetermination, certainty, the knowledge that this was right. "Thank you, bangaram. For trusting me with this. For being brave enough to meet them."
"Thank you for wanting me there. For being willing to introduce me even when it might be complicated."
"It won't be complicated. Or if it is, we'll handle it together."
"Together," she agreed. "Always together."
After they hung upâboth needing to return to their respective work and evening routinesâRishaan immediately called his cousin Pranav.
Pranav answered cheerfully. "Rishaan! What's up, man? Please tell me you're calling to confirm you're coming to all the pre-wedding stuff?"
"I am. But I have a question first."
"Shoot."
"Can I bring someone? My girlfriend?"
There was a beat of surprised silence. Then: "YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND?"
"Yes?"
"Since when? Why didn't you tell me? Who is she? Is she nice? Do I know her?"
"Pranav, breatheâ"
"I'm breathing! I'm just shocked! You, who hasn't seriously dated anyone in years, suddenly have a girlfriend you want to bring to my wedding!"
"Is that a yes or a no?"
"It's a yes! Obviously it's a yes! I'm thrilled! Bring her! I can't wait to meet her!" Pranav paused. "Does peddamma know? Your mother, I mean?"
"She knows I'm seeing someone. She doesn't know I'm bringing her to the wedding."
"Oh, this is going to be interesting. You know how peddamma gets at family functions."
"I know. But I also don't care. Samaira is important to me, and I want her there. If that makes my mother uncomfortable, that's her problem to solve."
"Damn, okay. Protective boyfriend Rishaan is hot. I like this energy."
"Shut up."
"I'm serious! You've always been so careful about what your parents think. It's good to see you prioritizing what you want."
"I'm trying to be better about that."
"Well, bring your girlfriend. I'm happy for you, really. And for what it's worth, if she makes you this defensive already, she must be pretty special."
"She is. The most special."
"Gross. I love it. See you in ten days, and bring this mystery woman who has my cousin all sappy and protective."
After hanging up with Pranav, Rishaan immediately called his grandmother.
"Chinna! I was just thinking about you!"
"Nannamma, I have news."
"Good news?"
"Very good news. Samaira is coming to Pranav's wedding with me."
The screen filled with Savitri's delighted face. "She agreed! Oh, that's wonderful! I'll finally get to see her again properly, not just on quick video calls!"
"I'm going to introduce her to everyone. As my girlfriend. Officially."
"And your parents? How are they taking this?"
"I haven't told them yet. I wanted to confirm with Pranav first, make sure Samaira was comfortable, then I'll inform them."
"Inform them? Not ask them?"
"I'm not asking permission, Nannamma. I'm twenty-eight years old. I'm informing them that I'll be bringing my girlfriend to the wedding, and they can either be respectful and welcoming or they can keep their judgments to themselves."
"Bold. I like it." Savitri's expression turned serious. "But Rishaan, you need to be prepared. Your mother won't react well. She'll ask questions, make assumptions, probably say things that are inappropriate."
"Then I'll shut down those conversations immediately."
"Good. Protect that girl, beta. She's being brave by agreeing to meet your family under these circumstances. Make sure she feels safe and supported."
"I will. I promise I will."
"I know you will. You're a good man, Rishaan. Much better than your parents give you credit for." She smiled. "Now tell meâwhat is Samaira wearing to the wedding? We need to coordinate so I can make sure I'm dressed appropriately to meet my future granddaughter-in-lawâ"
"Nannamma!"
"What? I'm old. I'm allowed to have hopes."
"We've been together officially for two weeks!"
"And? I knew I'd marry your grandfather after two weeks. When you know, you know."
"That's not how modern relationships workâ"
"Modern, traditional, doesn't matter. Love is love, beta. Don't overthink it."
They talked for another thirty minutesâNannamma extracting promises to bring Samaira to visit her after the wedding, making Rishaan promise to update her on every development, offering advice on how to handle his mother's inevitable interrogations.
Finally, he called his parents.
His father answeredâunusual, since his mother typically handled family communications.
"Rishaan. What can I do for you?"
"Nanna, I wanted to let you know that I'll be bringing someone to Pranav's wedding. My girlfriend, Samaira."
Silence. Then: "I see. Does your mother know about this?"
"Not yet. I wanted to tell you both together, but since you answeredâ"
"Hold on." He heard muffled conversation, then his mother's face appeared beside his father's.
"Rishaan? What's this about bringing someone to the wedding?"
"My girlfriend, Samaira. I'm bringing her as my guest. Pranav already approved it."
His mother's expression tightened. "This is rather sudden, isn't it? You've barely mentioned this girl, and now you're bringing her to a family wedding?"
"I've mentioned her several times. You've chosen not to ask many questions about her."
"Because I assumed it was casual! Not serious enough to warrant introducing her to the entire family!"
"It's very serious, Amma. Which is why I want her to meet everyone."
"Rishaan, these family weddings are not the appropriate venue for... for testing out relationships. If this girl is important to you, we should meet her properly first. Your father and I should have dinner with her, talk to her family, understandâ"
"With all due respect, Amma, I'm not asking permission. I'm informing you of my plans. Samaira will be attending the wedding with me. She'll be introduced as my girlfriend. And I expect both of you to be welcoming and respectful toward her."
"You expect?" His mother's voice rose. "Rishaan, I'm your mother. You don't get to dictateâ"
"And I'm an adult in a serious relationship. This isn't negotiable."
His father finally spoke up. "What does this girl do? You mentioned Ferrari?"
"She's a principal engineer for Scuderia Ferrari. She manages race strategy and car development."
"So she travels constantly?"
"Yes."
"And she's based in Italy?"
"Yes."
"Then how exactly is this supposed to work long-term? You're here managing the business, she's in Europe racing carsâ"
"We're figuring it out. That's not your concern."
"It's absolutely our concern if you're serious enough to bring her to family events," his mother interjected. "What about her family? What do her parents do?"
"Her father is a retired corporate executive, her mother was a project manager before retirement. They're good people from a middle-class background who raised an extraordinary daughter."
"Middle class," his mother repeated, and the way she said it made Rishaan's jaw tighten.
"Yes, Amma. Middle class. Like most of the country. Like most successful people who earned their positions through merit rather than inheritance."
"I didn't meanâ"
"Yes, you did. And that's exactly the attitude I'm asking you to leave at home when you meet her. Samaira has accomplished more in her career at twenty-seven than most people do in a lifetime. She's brilliant, accomplished, and respected in her field. The fact that she didn't come from wealth is irrelevant."
"Rishaanâ"
"She's coming to the wedding. She'll be treated with respect. That's final."
He ended the call before either of them could argue further.
Immediately, his phone buzzed with a text from his grandmother.
Nannamma: I heard you arguing with your mother from my bedroom. Well done, beta. Stand your ground. That girl is lucky to have you protecting her.
Rishaan: Thanks, Nannamma. I just hope Samaira knows what she's getting into.
Nannamma: She's dating you. She already knows what she's getting into. And she chose you anyway. That's real love, nanna koduka.
Wednesday Evening - 8:30 PM (Hyderabad) / 4:00 PM (Maranello)
Samaira's POV:
Samaira was still processing her agreement to attend Rishaan's cousin's wedding when her phone rang with a video call from himâfor the second time that day.
"Miss me already?" she answered, smiling.
"Always." But his expression was serious. "I just called my parents. Told them you're coming to the wedding."
Her stomach flipped. "And?"
"And my mother wasn't thrilled. Questions about your background, concerns about the relationship being too new, subtle classist implications that I shut down immediately."
"Shaanâ"
"Listen to me, Ira. Before you start second-guessing this decision, before you start worrying about being judged or uncomfortableâI need you to know something."
"What?"
"I will take care of your honor. I won't let anyone disrespect you at any cost." His voice was firm, determined. "Not my mother, not my relatives, not random family friends. If anyone says anything inappropriate, makes you uncomfortable, or treats you as anything less than the extraordinary person you are, I will address it immediately."
"You can't just argue with your entire familyâ"
"Watch me. Ira, you're doing me a favor by coming. You're being incredibly brave by agreeing to meet my family under these circumstances. The least I can do is make sure you feel safe and supported the entire time."
"What if your mother asks invasive questions?"
"I'll redirect or shut down the conversation. You won't be left alone with her without me there to intervene."
"What if relatives make comments about my career or my background?"
"I'll politely but firmly correct them. And if they persist, I'll not-so-politely remove us from that conversation."
"What if they compare me to other girls they had in mind for you?"
"Then I'll make it very clear that I didn't choose any of those girls. I chose you. And that choice is final."
Samaira felt tears prick her eyes. "You've really thought this through."
"I've thought about nothing else since you agreed to come." He leaned closer to the camera. "Bangaram, I know my family can be difficult. I know my mother has already shown signs of being judgmental. But I also know that you're worth fighting for. Worth standing up for. Worth defending at every turn."
"Even if it damages your relationship with your parents?"
"My relationship with my parents has been damaged for years. They see me as an heir and a business asset, not a person. You see me as a person. You're infinitely more valuable to me than their approval."
"Shaanâ"
"I mean it. You matter more. Your comfort matters more. Your dignity matters more. And I will protect all of those things, no matter what it costs me."
She wiped her eyes, laughing slightly. "How are you so good at this?"
"At what?"
"At making me feel safe. At making me believe that you'll actually do what you say you'll do."
"Because I will. Every time. Without question." He smiled gently. "You trusted me enough to agree to this. I'm going to make sure you never regret that trust."
"I don't regret it. I'm nervous, yes. But not regretful."
"Good. Then we're doing this. You, me, and whatever chaos my family brings. Together."
"Together," she agreed.
"And Ira? My grandmother is extremely excited to see you again. She's already planning what she'll wear to 'properly meet her future granddaughter-in-law.'"
"She said that?"
"Her exact words. I tried to tell her we've only been together officially for two weeks, and she said 'when you know, you know.' So you should prepare for enthusiastic grandmother energy."
"I can handle enthusiastic grandmother energy. It's judgmental mother energy I'm worried about."
"I'll handle my mother. You focus on being your brilliant, amazing self. That's more than enough."
They talked for another hour, making plans for the logistics, discussing what she should wear, going over family members she'd meet. Rishaan gave her a rundown of key relatives, their personalities, what to expect from each.
"My uncle RameshâPranav's father, is actually really nice. Welcoming, open-minded, genuinely interested in people. You'll like him."
"Good."
"My aunt Kavitha, his wife, is sweet but very traditional. Lots of questions about marriage and children and domestic life. Just smile and deflect."
"Got it."
"My cousin Priya is amazing. She's about your age, works in tech, very progressive. She'll probably become your ally immediately."
"Having an ally would be nice."
"And my other cousin Adityaânot my assistant's husband, different Adityaâis bringing his girlfriend Nisha. They've been together for a year. She might be a good person to talk to about handling family scrutiny."
"This is a lot of people to remember."
"I'll be with you the entire time. Every introduction, every conversation, every moment. You won't be alone in this, Ira."
"Promise?"
"I promise. On everything that matters, I promise."
Thursday Morning - 9:00 AM (Hyderabad) / 4:30 AM (Maranello)
Rishaan's POV:
Rishaan woke up to messages from several cousins.
Priya: OMG you're bringing your girlfriend to the wedding?? This is HUGE. Can't wait to meet her!
Aditya: Bro, Pranav told everyone. The family group chat is going INSANE. Prepare for maximum aunty energy.
Neha: Rishaan has a girlfriend! Rishaan has a girlfriend! Tell me EVERYTHING!
He groaned and checked the family group chatâa mistake, he realized immediately.
Aunty Kavitha: So excited to meet Rishaan's special friend at the wedding!
Uncle Ramesh: Looking forward to meeting her, Rishaan. Congratulations!
Random Cousin: Is this the girl from the viral video? The one you sang for?
Another Cousin: WAIT THAT WAS FOR A REAL PERSON?
Yet Another Cousin: I need details immediately.
Aunty Madhavi: What does she do? Where is she from? Tell us about her!
And then, the message he'd been dreading:
His Mother: Rishaan's friend will be joining us at the wedding. Please make her feel welcome. That's all I'll say on the matter for now.
The passive-aggressive energy was palpable even through text.
He decided to get ahead of it and sent his own message to the group:
Rishaan: Hi everyone. Yes, I'm bringing my girlfriend Samaira to the wedding. She's wonderful, and I'm excited for you all to meet her. Please be welcoming and respectful. Looking forward to celebrating with everyone.
Priya: Samaira! Pretty name! What does she do?
Rishaan: She's a principal engineer for Scuderia Ferrari F1 team.
Neha: FERRARI?? Like the racing cars Ferrari??
Rishaan: That's the one.
Aditya: Dude, that's impressive. You're bringing a Ferrari engineer to a family wedding. This is legendary.
Uncle Ramesh: Very accomplished! We're looking forward to meeting her, Rishaan.
Random Cousin: Is she Indian?
Rishaan's jaw tightened at that question.
Rishaan: Yes. Telugu. From Andhra Pradesh, like us. Works internationally because her job requires it.
His Mother: How nice. I'm sure we'll learn more when we meet her in person.
He closed the group chat before he said something he'd regret and called Samaira instead.
She answered, clearly just waking up. "Morning. Everything okay?"
"Define okay."
"That bad?"
"The family group chat knows you're coming. Everyone's excited and curious and asking a million questions."
"What kind of questions?"
"Mostly innocentâwhat you do, where you're from. But there was one 'Is she Indian?' question that annoyed me."
"People ask that. It's not necessarily malicious."
"Maybe. But the way it was phrased felt loaded."
"Shaan, breathe. You can't control what your family asks or thinks. You can only control how you respond."
"I know. I just want this to go smoothly for you."
"It won't go smoothly. Family events never do. But we'll handle whatever comes up. Together, remember?"
"Together. Right."
"Now tell me something good. How did your good cousins react?"
"Priya is thrilled. She immediately asked about you and seems genuinely excited. Aditya called it 'legendary' that I'm bringing a Ferrari engineer. Uncle Ramesh said you sound accomplished."
"See? Not everyone is judging. Focus on the good reactions."
"You're right. As always."
"I'm an engineer. Being right is my job."
He laughed, feeling his tension ease slightly. "What would I do without you?"
"Probably implode from family stress. Luckily, you have me to keep you grounded."
"Luckily indeed, bangaram."
Saturday Afternoon - 3:00 PM (Hyderabad) / 10:30 AM (Maranello)
Samaira's POV:
Samaira was reviewing race data from last week's Monaco victory when her phone rang. Rishaan's grandmother.
She answered with a smile. "Namaste, Ammamma."
"Samaira, child! I've been dying to talk to you properly!"
"It's so good to hear from you! How are you?"
"Excited! Thrilled! My grandson is finally bringing someone to a family function, and it's you! I couldn't be happier!"
"He told you, then."
"He called me immediately after he told his parents. Much better conversation with me, I suspect." Ammamma's eyes twinkled. "His mother wasn't pleased?"
"Not particularly, from what he described."
"Don't worry about her. She's difficult with everyone, not just you. It's her personality, not a reflection on you."
"That's kind of you to say."
"It's true. Nowâtell me how you're feeling about all this. Nervous?"
"Very nervous. Meeting the entire extended family, being introduced as his girlfriend, dealing with questions and scrutinyâit's a lot."
"It is a lot. But you're strong enough to handle it. You work in Formula 1, child. You deal with high-pressure situations constantly. This is just a different kind of pressure."
"That's true. I hadn't thought of it that way."
"And you have something those other situations don't give youâyou have Rishaan. He'll be right there, protecting you, supporting you, making sure you're comfortable. That boy is absolutely devoted to you."
"He's been very reassuring."
"He's in love with you."
Samaira's breath caught. "Ammammaâ"
"Oh, he hasn't said it yet. But I can see it. Hear it in his voice when he talks about you. The way he defends you to his parents, the way he lights up on video calls with you. That's love, child. Real, genuine love."
"We've only been together for two weeksâ"
"Time doesn't matter. Feelings matter. And that boy's feelings for you are as real as it gets." Ammamma leaned closer to the camera. "The question isâdo you feel the same?"
Samaira opened her mouth to deflect, then stopped. This was AmmammaâRishaan's grandmother, but also someone who'd shown her nothing but kindness and acceptance.
"I think I do," she admitted quietly. "I'm not ready to say it yet, but I thinkâI think I'm falling in love with him."
"Good. That's very good." Ammamma smiled warmly. "Love is a gift, Samaira. Don't be afraid of it just because it came quickly or because circumstances are complicated. Accept it. Nurture it. Let yourself be happy."
"Even with all the distance and logistics and family complications?"
"Especially with all that. Love that can survive distance and complicationsâthat's the kind that lasts."
They talked for another forty minutesâAmmamma asking about her work, her parents, her life in Italy. It felt less like an interrogation and more like a conversation with a beloved grandmother, which Samaira realized was exactly what it was meant to be.
"I'll see you at the wedding," Ammamma said as they were wrapping up. "And Samaira? Wear something beautiful. Not for anyone elseâfor yourself. Walk into that wedding feeling confident and gorgeous, and let everyone see why my grandson chose you."
"I will. Thank you, Ammamma. For everything."
"No thanks needed, child. You're family now. That's what we doâwe support each other."
After the call ended, Samaira sat in her apartment, thinking about Ammamma's words.
He's in love with you.
Was he? It felt possible. The way he looked at her, spoke to her, defended her to his family. The way he sang that song thinking about her. The way he'd immediately agreed to protect her at the wedding, no hesitation.
And was she in love with him?
The answer felt obvious, even though it terrified her. Yes. She was fallingâhad fallenâwas completely gone for Rishaan Chowdary in ways she'd never experienced before.
But saying it out loud, admitting it fullyâthat felt like crossing a line she couldn't uncross.
Not yet. Not until they'd survived the wedding, until she'd met his family, until they'd proven to themselves that this could work despite everything stacked against it.
Then maybe. Then she'd tell him.
Monday Morning - 8:00 AM (Hyderabad) / 3:30 AM (Maranello)
Rishaan's POV:
One week until the wedding. Four days until the pre-wedding ceremonies began.
Rishaan sat in his office, reviewing the family itinerary his mother had sent. Three days of ceremoniesâmehendi, sangeet, and various pujas. Then the wedding itself. Then one more day of post-wedding traditions.
Five days total. Five days of family intensity with Samaira by his side.
He texted her, even though he knew she was asleep.
Rishaan: One week until you meet my family. One week until I get to introduce you as my girlfriend in front of everyone who matters. One week until we stop hiding this and make it completely, undeniably official.
Rishaan: I know you're asleep. I know you won't see this until morning. But I need you to knowâI'm so proud to be with you. So excited to show you off. So ready to face whatever comes because you'll be right there with me.
Rishaan: Also, you're going to be the most beautiful person at that wedding, and I'm going to spend the entire time trying not to look too obviously smitten in front of my relatives. Just warning you in advance.
Rishaan: Sleep well, bangaram. Dream of fancy weddings and annoying families and a boyfriend who can't wait to hold your hand in front of everyone who ever doubted he'd find someone as extraordinary as you.
He sent the messages and went back to work, already counting down the days.
Morning - 7:00 AM (Maranello) / 11:30 AM (Hyderabad)
Samaira's POV:
Samaira woke to Rishaan's messages and found herself smiling like an idiot at her phone.
She called him immediately.
"Good morning, bangaram," he answered, clearly pleased she'd called.
"Good morning to you too, you sappy romantic."
"Did you read my messages?"
"I did. All of them. Multiple times."
"And?"
"And I think you're ridiculously sweet and I'm very lucky to have you."
"You're not going to tease me about the sappy texts?"
"Why would I tease you? They were perfect. You're perfect." She paused. "Well, not perfect. You're terrible at time zones and you get defensive when stressed and you work too much. But you're perfect for me."
"That's the most romantic thing anyone's ever said to me."
"Really? That I think you're flawed but perfect for me anyway?"
"Yes. Because it means you see me clearly. All of me. And you want me anyway."
"I do want you, Shaan. All of you. Flaws and perfections and everything in between."
"Same, Ira. Always the same."
They talked until she had to leave for the factoryâeasy conversation about nothing and everything, the kind of talk that had become their daily routine despite the distance.
As she was getting ready to hang up, Rishaan said: "Six more days."
"Six more days until I meet your family."
"Six more days until everyone knows you're mine."
"Possessive."
"Extremely. Is that okay?"
"More than okay. I like being yours, Shaan."
"Good. Because I'm very much yours too, bangaram. Completely, entirely, irrevocably yours."
After they disconnected, Samaira got ready for work with a lightness in her step that hadn't been there before.
One week. One week until she met his family, survived the scrutiny, proved to both of them that this was real and worth fighting for.
One week until everything changed.
She was terrified.
She was excited.
She was ready.
Rishaan's POV:
Rishaan was in the middle of a conference call when his phone started buzzing incessantly with messages from the group chat. He muted his mic and glanced at the screen.
Anvitha: RISHAAN IS TAKING SAMAIRA TO HIS COUSIN'S WEDDING???
Meher: As his GIRLFRIEND?? To meet his FAMILY??
Veer: This is huge. This is MASSIVE.
Ahaan: When were you planning to tell us about this?
Rishaan sighed and quickly typed a response.
Rishaan: Can this wait? I'm in a meeting.
Anvitha: NO. This is emergency friend council territory. We're calling you the SECOND your meeting ends.
Veer: You're introducing her to your entire family after two weeks of dating. We have OPINIONS.
Rishaan: Of course you do.
Meher: Meeting ends when? We're conference calling you immediately after.
Rishaan: 3 PM. Fine. Conference call at 3.
He unmuted himself and tried to focus on quarterly projections, but his mind was already preparing for the friend interrogation that was about to happen.
3:15 PM - The Friend Council
The video call connected with all four friends staring at him from their respective locations.
"Okay, explain," Anvitha said immediately. "From the beginning. Everything."
"I asked Samaira to come to Pranav's wedding with me. As my girlfriend. To meet my family. She said yes. That's it."
"That's it?" Meher repeated incredulously. "That's the summary of what is arguably the biggest relationship milestone you've hit in years?"
"What do you want me to say?"
"Details!" Anvitha demanded. "How did you ask? What did you say? How did she react? What did your family say? We need the whole story!"
Rishaan ran a hand through his hair. "Fine. I called her last week. Told her I wanted to officially tell my parents about us. Asked if she'd come to the wedding so I could introduce her properly. She was hesitant at firstâunderstandablyâbut agreed after I promised to protect her from any family drama."
"And your parents?" Ahaan asked.
"My mother was predictably difficult. Concerns about it being too soon, questions about Samaira's background, the usual judgment disguised as concern. My father was more neutral but similarly skeptical."
"How did you handle it?" Veer asked.
"I told them she was coming regardless of their opinion. That I expect them to be respectful. That their approval isn't required for me to be with her."
All four friends stared at him.
"What?" Rishaan asked.
"That's the most backbone I've ever heard from you regarding your parents," Ahaan said, looking impressed.
"Seriously," Meher agreed. "You usually bend over backwards to keep the peace with them."
"Not anymore. Not when it comes to Ira. She's too important to compromise on."
Anvitha's expression softened. "You really care about her."
"I really do."
"Like, serious serious care?"
"Very serious. Meet-the-family, introduce-as-girlfriend, defend-against-all-judgment level serious."
"Oh my god, he's in love with her," Meher said, grinning.
"I didn't say that"
"You didn't have to! It's written all over your face! You're completely gone for her!"
"Even if I was," Rishaan said carefully, "which I'm neither confirming nor denying, it would be way too soon to say anything."
"But you feel it," Anvitha pressed.
He sighed. "Yes. I feel it. Happy now?"
The screen erupted in excited squealing from the girls and smug satisfaction from the guys.
"I knew it!" Anvitha said. "From that first night at the engagement party, I knew you two were going to be something special!"
"We're very happy for you," Ahaan said more seriously. "Sam's great. You're great together. This family meeting thing is a big step, but you'll handle it."
"Thanks. I'm just worried about putting her through my family's scrutiny."
"She's survived Formula 1 politics and engineering in a male-dominated field," Veer pointed out. "She can handle your family."
"That's what she said, actually. Almost word for word."
"Because she's smart and capable and perfect for you," Meher said. "Nowâlogistics. When does she arrive? When do you leave for the wedding? What's the timeline?"
"She lands from Canada next Saturday morning. We leave for the wedding location on Sunday morning. Wedding is next Saturday, and then we're back here Sunday evening for Anvitha's pre-wedding chaos starting that week."
"That's tight timing," Ahaan observed.
"Very tight. She'll be exhausted from travel, jet-lagged, and immediately thrown into family intensity."
"She agreed to this knowing the timeline?" Anvitha asked.
"She did. I laid everything out clearly, and she said yes anyway."
"She must really like you," Meher said, smiling.
"I hope so. Because I really like her too."
"Like?" Veer challenged. "Just like?"
"Shut up, Veer."
Evening - 8:30 PM (Hyderabad) / 4:00 PM (Maranello)
Samaira's POV:
Samaira was reviewing strategy documents for the Canadian Grand Prix when her phone rang with a video call from her mother.
"Hi, Amma," she answered, propping her phone up on her desk.
"Chinni! I have news!"
"Good news?"
"Very exciting news! Rishaan called your nanna and me this morning!"
Samaira's heart skipped. "He did?"
"Yes! He wanted to formally tell us that he's introducing you to his family at his cousin's wedding. He asked for our blessing to bring you as his girlfriend."
"He asked for your blessing?"
"Very respectfully! He saidâ" Lakshmi consulted some notes, "âthat you're the most important person in his life, that he wants his family to know how serious he is about you, and that he wanted to make sure we were comfortable with him taking you to a family function where you'd be introduced as his partner."
"Oh my god," Samaira said, feeling her face heat up. "He didn't have to do that."
"But he did! Beta, that's what good men do. They respect the woman's family, they communicate clearly, they ask for support rather than just doing what they want."
"What did you and Nanna say?"
"We gave our blessing, of course! And your nanna told himâ" she smiled, "âtold him that any man who sings Telugu love songs thinking about our daughter and asks permission to introduce her to his family has our full support."
"Nanna said that?"
"He did! Then he also saidâand this is my favorite partâhe said 'take care of her, treat her well, and know that if you don't, you'll have to answer to me.'"
"Nanna threatened him?"
"Protectively! Like a good father! And Rishaan said, 'I wouldn't expect anything less, Uncle. She deserves to be protected and cherished, and I intend to do both.'"
Samaira felt tears prick her eyes. "He said that?"
"Word for word. Beta, this boy is serious about you. The way he spoke about you, the respect he showed us, the thoughtfulness of calling before the weddingâthat's not casual dating behavior. That's serious relationship behavior."
"I know. It's justâit's a lot. It's happening so fast."
"Fast doesn't mean wrong. Your nanna and I were engaged after three months. When you know, you know."
"That's what his grandmother said too."
"Smart woman, his grandmother. We should all have tea together when you're home."
"Amma, focus. I'm meeting his entire family next week. At a wedding. Where I'll be scrutinized and judged and asked a million questions."
"And you'll handle it beautifully because you're brilliant and confident and you have a man who will stand beside you the entire time." Lakshmi's expression turned serious. "Chinni, listen to me. This boy called us not because he had to, but because he wanted to. He wanted our blessing, our support, our approval. That tells me everything I need to know about his character."
"His mother isn't pleased about me."
"Not all mothers-in-law are pleased at first. They need time to see that you're good for their son. You'll win her over eventually."
"What if I don't?"
"Then you don't. Her approval is nice but not necessary. Your relationship is with Rishaan, not his mother."
They talked for another thirty minutesâher mother giving advice about meeting families, sharing stories about her own experience meeting Vamshi's parents, offering reassurance that everything would work out.
After they hung up, Samaira immediately called Rishaan.
"You called my parents," she said when he answered.
"I did. Was that okay? I should have asked firstâ"
"It was perfect. Completely perfect. Amma told me what you said."
"I wanted them to know my intentions are serious. That I'm not just casually bringing you to a family functionâI'm introducing you as someone important. Someone permanent."
"Permanent?"
"Is that too much?"
"No. It'sâit's exactly right. Thank you for respecting my parents like that."
"Of course. They raised you. They deserve to know you're with someone who values you properly."
"My father threatened you."
"Protectively. I appreciated it actually. Shows he cares."
"You're too good, Shaan."
"I'm really not. I'm just treating you the way you deserve to be treated."
Afternoon - 4:00 PM (Hyderabad) / 11:30 AM (Maranello)
Rishaan's POV:
Rishaan was at his office when Meher texted the group.
Meher: EMERGENCY SHOPPING MEETING. We need outfits for Anvitha's wedding AND outfits for Rishaan and Sam for Pranav's wedding. This requires strategic planning.
Anvitha: I'm free after 6 PM today.
Veer: Why do I need to be involved in shopping?
Meher: Because you're Anvitha's friend and you'll carry bags.
Veer: I hate this.
Ahaan: I'm free. Where are we meeting?
Meher: That new boutique in Banjara Hills. 6:30 PM. Everyone be there.
Rishaan: I don't need help shoppingâ
Meher: YES YOU DO. You need outfits that will make Sam's family approve of you AND outfits for Pranav's wedding that say "this is my girlfriend and I'm proud." You absolutely need help.
Rishaan: Fine. But I'm not trying on fifty different kurtas.
Meher: We'll see about that.
6:45 PM - The Shopping Chaos Begins
The boutique Meher had chosen was upscaleâthe kind of place that sold designer Indian wear at prices that made Rishaan wince despite his comfortable financial situation.
"This is excessive," he said, looking at the racks of embroidered sherwanis and silk kurtas.
"This is a WEDDING," Meher corrected. "Two weddings, actually. You need to look good."
"I always look good."
"You look fine. We're aiming for exceptional."
Anvitha was already pulling options for Samaira. "Okay, for Pranav's weddingâshe needs three outfits for the pre-wedding functions, plus the wedding day outfit. That's four total."
"Sam said she wants to wear a saree for the wedding itself," Rishaan offered. "She mentioned it specificallyâsomething traditional but elegant."
"Good choice. Sarees are always appropriate for weddings. But for the mehendi and sangeetâ" Anvitha held up a stunning emerald green lehenga, "âsomething like this?"
"That's beautiful," Rishaan admitted.
"It's also expensive," Veer said, checking the tag. "This is a month's salary for normal people."
"Good thing Sam isn't normal people, and Rishaan is paying," Meher said cheerfully.
"I'm paying?"
"You're the boyfriend. You invited her to your family function. Obviously you're covering her outfits."
"I haven't discussed this with herâ"
"Then discuss it now. Call her."
Rishaan pulled out his phone and called Samaira. She answered from what looked like a coffee shop.
"Hey! Is everything okay?"
"Define okay. I'm currently in a boutique being terrorized by Meher about buying you wedding outfits."
"Oh no, the shopping has begun?"
"The shopping has very much begun. They're insisting I buy you four outfits for Pranav's wedding. I wanted to check if you're okay with that?"
"Shaan, you don't have to buy me outfitsâ"
"I want to. You're coming to my family function as my girlfriend. Let me do this."
There was a pause. Then: "Okay. But nothing too expensive."
"Too late," Meher called from across the boutique. "Everything here is expensive!"
"Was that Meher?"
"Yes. She's in her element. It's terrifying." Rishaan switched to video call so Samaira could see the options. "They're picking out lehengas for the pre-wedding functions. What do you think of this green one?"
Samaira studied it through the screen. "It's gorgeous, butâis it too much? I don't want to outshine the bride."
"The bride is at her own wedding," Anvitha called, appearing in frame. "This is a different wedding. You can be as stunning as you want."
"Hi, Anvitha!"
"Hi, Sam! Okay, green lehenga yes or no?"
"Yes, but maybe for the sangeet? It's vibrant enough for dancing."
"Smart. What about for the mehendi?" Anvitha disappeared and returned with a blush pink anarkali suit. "This?"
"Perfect. That's feminine and traditional but not too formal."
For the next hour, Samaira essentially shopped via video call while Rishaan, Meher, and Anvitha ran around the boutique pulling options. Veer and Ahaan had been relegated to bag-carrying duty and were sitting on a couch looking long-suffering.
"This is torture," Veer muttered to Ahaan.
"This is friendship," Ahaan corrected. "We suffer so they can look good at weddings."
"I hate weddings."
"You love weddings. You just hate shopping."
"Fair point."
Back at the outfit selection, they'd narrowed it down:
Mehendi (Day 1): Blush pink anarkali suit with delicate gold embroidery
Sangeet (Day 2): Emerald green lehenga with silver work
Pre-wedding puja (Day 3): Lavender three-piece suit with minimal embellishment
Wedding Day: To be decidedâSamaira wanted to look at sarees separately
"For the wedding saree," Samaira said through the video call, "I want something traditional. Red or maroon, maybe? With gold work? Classic bridal guest aesthetic."
"We'll look at sarees tomorrow," Meher decided. "This boutique's saree selection is limited. I know a better place."
"More shopping?" Veer groaned.
"SO much more shopping. We still need to get Rishaan's outfits, and we haven't even started on clothes for Anvitha's wedding!"
"Kill me now," Veer said.
"Stop being dramatic," Anvitha said, swatting him. "This is important!"
They moved on to Rishaan's outfits. Unlike Samaira's selections which were happening diplomatically via video call, Rishaan's fittings involved him being physically pushed into changing rooms with various kurtas and sherwanis.
"Try this," Meher said, shoving a cream sherwani at him.
"It's too formalâ"
"It's a WEDDING."
"This is just the mehendiâ"
"TRY IT."
Rishaan emerged from the changing room in the cream sherwani with gold embroidery. Samaira, still on video call, made a small sound.
"What?" Rishaan asked, looking at his phone where her face was visible.
"You look really good," she said, her voice slightly awed.
"Really?"
"Really really. That'sâwow. Yes. Get that one."
"If Sam says get it, get it," Meher said firmly. "Moving onâ"
They eventually settled on:
Mehendi: Cream sherwani with gold work (to complement Samaira's blush pink)
Sangeet: Teal blue kurta set (to coordinate with her green lehenga)
Pre-wedding puja: Traditional white kurta-pajama with subtle embroidery
Wedding Day: Black sherwani with intricate gold embroidery (classic, formal, striking)
"You're going to look like a prince," Anvitha said approvingly.
"I'm going to look broke after paying for all this," Rishaan muttered.
"You're a successful businessman with two companies. You can afford it," Meher said. "Besides, this is an investment in making a good impression on your family."
"My family should care more about character than clothes."
"They should. But they don't. So we dress to impress."
After three hours, they'd successfully selected outfits for Pranav's wedding. They were taking a chai break before tackling Anvitha's wedding clothes when Samaira spoke up from the video call.
"Thank you all for doing this. For helping me even from thousands of miles away."
"That's what friends do," Anvitha said warmly. "We take care of each other."
"Even when it means three-hour shopping marathons," Ahaan added.
"Especially then," Meher corrected.
Wednesday Afternoon - 5:00 PM (Hyderabad) / 12:30 PM (Maranello)
Samaira's POV:
Samaira was between meetings when Anvitha video-called her.
"Sam! I need your opinion on something."
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong! I'm shopping for YOUR outfit for MY wedding, and I need you to choose."
"Anvitha, you don't have to buy me an outfitâ"
"You're my maid of honor. I'm absolutely buying you an outfit. Nowâ" she turned the camera to show two lehengas, "âwhich one?"
One was a deep royal blue with silver embroidery. The other was a rich burgundy with gold work.
"The blue," Samaira said immediately. "It's stunning, and it'll photograph beautifully."
"Excellent choice. Meher said the same thing. We're getting matching jewelry tooâ"
"Anvithaâ"
"Don't argue. This is my wedding and I want my best friends to look incredible. Let me do this."
Samaira smiled despite herself. "Okay. Thank you."
"Good. Now, Meher is picking her outfit, and the guys are being forced to try on kurtas. Want to watch Veer suffer?"
"Always."
The camera panned to show Veer in a fitting room, being bullied by Meher into trying on a maroon kurta.
"This is too tight!" Veer protested.
"It's supposed to be fitted!"
"I can't breathe!"
"You're breathing fine! Stop being dramatic!"
Samaira laughed, watching her friends bicker good-naturedly. Thisâthis was what she'd been missing in Italy. Not just romantic connection, but friendship. Community. People who cared enough to spend hours shopping for her even when she was thousands of miles away.
"How's prep for Canada?" Anvitha asked, turning the camera back to herself.
"Intense. We're trying to replicate Monaco's success, which means double-checking every detail."
"You're going to be amazing. Again."
"I hope so. But honestly, I'm already exhausted thinking about itârace weekend, then flying straight to India, then immediately into wedding chaos."
"You can handle it. You're the most capable person I know."
"Or the most stubborn."
"Same thing, really."
Thursday Evening - 6:00 PM (Hyderabad) / 1:30 PM (Maranello)
Rishaan's POV:
Day two of shopping involved sareesâspecifically, finding the perfect wedding day saree for Samaira.
Meher had dragged them to a specialty saree boutique in Jubilee Hills, the kind of place where every saree came with its own story and price tag that made Rishaan's eyes water.
"This is ridiculous," he said, looking at a particularly ornate Kanjeevaram silk saree. "This costs more than my monthly office rent."
"But it's perfect," Meher said, examining the silk. "Look at the gold zari work, the traditional motifsâthis is exactly what Sam needs for a formal wedding."
Rishaan called Samaira, switching to video as soon as she answered.
"Please save me from your friends. They're trying to make me bankrupt."
"What are they showing you?"
He turned the camera to display the Kanjeevaram saree. Samaira's eyes widened.
"That's beautiful. That'sâwow."
"See?" Meher said triumphantly. "Sam agrees!"
"But it's so expensiveâ" Samaira started.
"Ira," Rishaan interrupted gently. "Let me do this. Please. I want you to feel confident and beautiful when you meet my family. If this saree does that, then it's worth every rupee."
She was quiet for a moment. Then: "Okay. But that's the last expensive thing. Everything else needs to be reasonable."
"Define reasonable."
"Rishaanâ"
"Fine, fine. Reasonable. We'll try."
They ended up with:
The Kanjeevaram silk saree: Deep maroon with gold zari work, traditional and elegant
A backup saree option: Lighter pink silk in case the maroon felt too heavy
Sarees for Anvitha's wedding functions: Two more sarees in complementary colors
By the time they finished, Rishaan had spent more on clothes in two days than he usually spent in six months. But watching Samaira's face light up through video call every time she approved an outfit made it completely worthwhile.
"You're spoiling her," Veer observed as they loaded purchases into the car.
"She deserves to be spoiled."
"You've got it bad, man."
"I know. I really do."
Friday Afternoon - 3:00 PM (Hyderabad) / 10:30 AM (Maranello)
Samaira's POV:
Samaira was in final prep meetings for Canadian Grand Prix when her phone buzzed with photos from Meher.
Meher: Final outfit lineup for Pranav's wedding! [Four photos of all the selected outfits laid out]
Meher: And for our wedding! [Photos of her maid of honor outfit]
Meher: You're going to look like a princess at both events.
Samaira: These are stunning. Thank you for coordinating everything.
Meher: That's what friends are for! Now focus on winning Canada so you can come home and look fabulous at weddings.
Samaira: Pressure, much?
Meher: You thrive under pressure. It's your thing.
She wasn't wrong. Samaira did thrive under pressureâit's what made her good at her job. But the combination of race pressure and wedding pressure and meeting-the-family pressure was starting to feel overwhelming.
Her phone rang. Rishaan, as if sensing she needed to hear his voice.
"Hey, bangaram."
"Hey. How did you know I needed to talk?"
"Boyfriend telepathy. How are you feeling?"
"Overwhelmed. Excited. Terrified. All of it simultaneously."
"That's fair. It's a lot."
"I leave for Canada tomorrow. Race weekend. Then straight back to Italy, pack for India, fly out Tuesday. Land Wednesday morning. Approximately six hours to recover from jet lag before we leave for your cousin's wedding Thursday morning."
"That's... that's an insane schedule."
"That's my life right now." She sighed. "I'm not complaining. I chose this career, I love what I do. But sometimes I wish I could just teleport places instead of spending half my life on airplanes."
"I wish you could too. But for what it's worth, I'm going to take care of everything once you land. You won't have to think about logistics or planning or anything except showing up and being your brilliant self."
"You promise?"
"I promise. Your only job is to win in Canada, fly home safely, and let me handle everything else."
"That sounds really nice actually."
"Good. Because I mean it. Let me take care of you, Ira."
"Okay. I will."
They talked for twenty more minutes before she had to return to meetings. But she felt steadier afterward, more centered.
One week. One race. Then home to Rishaan and whatever came next.
She could do this.
She could do anything.
Saturday Morning - 10:00 AM (Canada) / 7:30 PM (Hyderabad)
Rishaan's POV:
Rishaan sat in his apartment, laptop open with F1 qualifying streaming, phone in hand ready to text Samaira updates even though he knew she wouldn't see them until later.
The friends had gathered againâthis time at his place since it had the biggest TVâall of them watching as Ferrari fought for pole position in Montreal.
"Come on, come on," Anvitha was muttering, watching Lorenzo's final lap.
The lap time came in. P1.
"YES!" Veer shouted, jumping up.
"Marcus still has one more lap," Ahaan cautioned.
They watched, tense, as Marcus pushed his final lap. He crossed the lineâ
P2.
"Ferrari front row again!" Meher screamed.
Rishaan immediately texted Samaira.
Rishaan: P1 and P2. You're incredible. Again. Always.
His phone rang thirty seconds later. Samaira, calling from the garage, still in her Ferrari team gear, headset around her neck.
"Did you watch?" she asked, breathless.
"Every second. You're amazing, bangaram. Back-to-back front row lockouts. That's extraordinary."
"It's the teamâ"
"It's you. Your strategy, your setup, your brilliant engineering brain. Take the credit."
She smiled, and even through the phone he could see the exhaustion mixed with exhilaration. "Thank you. For watching. For always watching."
"Always," he promised. "Now go celebrate with your team. I'll text you after the race tomorrow."
"I'll call you. After everything is done. I promise."
"I'll be waiting."
After she hung up, Rishaan looked up to find his friends all watching him with knowing expressions.
"What?"
"You're so gone for her," Meher said, smiling. "It's adorable."
"I know I am. We've established this."
"Have you told her?" Anvitha asked gently.
"Told her what?"
"That you love her."
"Iâ" he stopped. "No. It's too soon."
"But you do love her," Veer pressed.
"I..." Rishaan sighed. "Yes. I love her. But I'm not saying it until after this wedding. Until after she's met my family and survived that chaos. I don't want to add pressure when she's already stressed."
"That's actually very thoughtful," Ahaan said.
"I have my moments."
"But you will tell her?" Anvitha asked. "Eventually?"
"Eventually. When the timing is right. When I know she's ready to hear it."
"She loves you too, you know," Meher said softly. "It's obvious. The way she talks about you, looks at you on video calls. She's just as gone as you are."
"I hope so. Because I'm completely, entirely, irrevocably in love with Samaira Reddy, and I really hope she feels the same."
"She does," all four friends said in unison.
"How do you know?"
"Because we know her," Anvitha said. "And we see how she is with you. That's love, Rishaan. Real, genuine, falling-completely-apart love."
Rishaan smiled despite himself. "Then I guess we're both falling."
"The best kind of falling," Meher agreed.
Sunday Evening - 6:00 PM (Canada) / 3:30 AM Monday (Hyderabad)
Rishaan's POV:
Rishaan had stayed up all night watching the Canadian Grand Prixâmuch to his body's protests. But there was no way he was missing Samaira's race.
Ferrari won. Again.
Lorenzo P1, Marcus P2. Perfect strategy, perfect execution. Two races, two Ferrari 1-2 finishes.
His phone rang at 6:15 PM Canada timeâ3:45 AM Hyderabad timeâand Rishaan answered immediately despite his exhaustion.
"You did it again," he said by way of greeting.
"We did it again!" Samaira was crying with joy, exhaustion, relief. "Shaan, two in a row! Two perfect weekends!"
"You're extraordinary. Completely extraordinary."
"I'm so tired I can barely think straight, but I'm so happy."
"You should be. Go celebrate. I'll talk to you laterâ"
"No, wait. I'm leaving the track soon. Flying back to Italy tonight, packing tomorrow, flying to India Tuesday. I land Wednesday morning your time."
"Wednesday morning. I'll be at the airport."
"You don't have toâ"
"I want to. Let me be the first person you see when you come home."
"Okay. That sounds perfect." She yawned hugely. "I need to go. Post-race debrief. But Shaan?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you. For watching, for caring, for being proud of me even when you haven't slept."
"Always, bangaram. Now go. We'll talk when you land."
After they hung up, Rishaan finally allowed himself to sleepâexcited, nervous, and counting down the days until Samaira came home.
Two days. Then everything would change.
For better or worse, they were about to find out if they could survive the ultimate test: family scrutiny.
But if anyone could handle it, it was them.
Together.
Wednesday Morning - 6:30 AM (Hyderabad) / Samaira's Arrival
Rishaan's POV:
Rishaan had been awake since 4 AM, too nervous-excited to sleep. He'd showered, dressed casually in jeans and a soft blue shirt, and was now sitting in his car at the international arrivals terminal, watching the flight information board.
Flight AI 343 from Rome - Landed
His heart rate picked up. She was here. Samaira was finally here.
He checked his phone for the hundredth time. No messages, which meant she was probably still collecting luggage or clearing customs. He forced himself to be patient, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.
Twenty minutes later, his phone buzzed.
Ira: Cleared customs. Coming out now. Where are you?
Rishaan: Waiting at arrivals. Right side, near the coffee shop.
Ira: See you in 2 minutes.
Those two minutes felt like an eternity. Rishaan got out of the car, positioning himself where he could see the arrivals gate clearly.
And then there she was.
Samaira emerged through the automatic doors, pulling a large suitcase, carry-on bag over her shoulder, looking exhausted but beautiful. Her hair was in a messy bun, she was wearing comfortable travel clothesâleggings and an oversized Ferrari hoodieâand the moment she spotted him, her entire face lit up.
He was moving before he realized it, crossing the distance between them in long strides.
"Shaanâ" she started, but he'd already pulled her into his arms, hugging her so tightly she laughed into his shoulder.
"You're here," he said into her hair. "You're actually here."
"I'm here," she confirmed, wrapping her arms around his waist. "I'm so tired I might fall asleep standing up, but I'm here."
He pulled back just enough to look at her face. "How was the flight?"
"Long. Terrible food. Mediocre movies. But I'm here now and that's all that matters."
"Come on, let's get you home. You need rest."
He took her suitcase despite her protests, and they walked to his car together. She was practically swaying with exhaustion.
"When did you last sleep?" he asked, loading her luggage.
"Actual sleep? Maybe twenty hours ago? I napped on the plane but it doesn't count."
"Iraâ"
"I know, I know. I'll sleep when we get to my apartment. I promise."
The drive to her apartment was quietâSamaira dozing against the window, occasionally waking to smile at him before drifting off again. When they arrived, he had to gently shake her awake.
"We're here, bangaram."
"Already?" She blinked sleepily. "That was fast."
"You slept through most of it."
Inside her apartment, Samaira dropped her bags by the door and immediately headed for her bedroom. "I need to shower and then sleep for approximately twelve hours."
"You have eight hours until the friends descend for packing help," Rishaan said, checking his phone where multiple messages from the group chat were already appearing.
"Eight hours. I can work with that." She turned at her bedroom door. "Thank you for picking me up. For being here."
"Always. Now go rest. I'll be here when you wake up."
"You're staying?"
"I brought my laptop. I can work from your living room. Unless you want me to leaveâ"
"No, stay. Please. I like knowing you're here."
She disappeared into her bedroom, and Rishaan heard the shower turn on a few minutes later. He settled on her couch, pulled out his laptop, and tried to focus on work emails.
But mostly he just felt content. She was home. She was safe. And in a few days, they'd face his family together.
Whatever happened, at least they'd have each other.
Wednesday Afternoon - 2:30 PM
Samaira's POV:
Samaira woke to the smell of food and the sound of someone moving around in her kitchen. For a disoriented moment, she forgot where she was. Then it all came rushing backâHyderabad, home, Rishaan.
She checked her phone. 2:30 PM. She'd slept for nearly six hours.
Pulling on comfortable clothes, she padded out to find Rishaan at her dining table, laptop open, phone pressed to his ear, clearly in the middle of a work call.
"No, the shipment needs to go out by Fridayâ" he was saying, then spotted her and smiled. "Hold on one second." He muted the call. "Hey, you're awake. There's food in the kitchenâI ordered from that place you like."
"You ordered food?"
"You need to eat. And knowing you, you probably haven't had a proper meal in days."
He wasn't wrong. "Thank you."
She found containers of biryani, raita, and chicken curry waiting. She heated up a plate and ate while listening to Rishaan finish his call, watching him work. There was something domestic and comfortable about thisâhim in her space, both of them existing in the same physical location after weeks of video calls and time zone gymnastics.
"Sorry about that," he said, finally hanging up and closing his laptop. "Crisis at the textile factory. All handled now."
"You've been working here all morning?"
"I told you I would. Plus, someone needed to accept the food delivery, and you were dead to the world."
"I was tired."
"You were exhausted. How are you feeling now?"
"Better. Still jet-lagged but functional." She sat down next to him. "What time are the friends coming?"
"Seven. Meher's organizing the packing party. I think she's bringing food, wine, and excessive enthusiasm."
"That sounds like Meher."
"Your outfits are all hanging in my car. The saree, the lehengas, everything. I'll bring them up when the friends get here so everyone can see."
"You kept them at your place?"
"Safely stored so nothing would get wrinkled or damaged. I may have been slightly paranoid about taking care of them."
She kissed his cheek. "Thank you for taking care of everything."
"That's my job now, apparently. Taking care of you."
"I like that job description."
"So do I, bangaram. So do I."
Wednesday Evening - 7:15 PM
The friends arrived in a chaotic burst of energyâMeher carrying wine and snacks, Anvitha with a checklist, Veer and Ahaan lugging shopping bags full of the wedding outfits.
"SAM!" Anvitha immediately pulled Samaira into a tight hug. "You're home! You're actually home!"
"I'm home," Samaira confirmed, laughing. "For three whole weeks before I have to go back."
"We're not thinking about you leaving again," Meher declared. "We're thinking about you being here NOW. Where's the suitcase we're packing?"
"Bedroom. But I haven't evenâ"
"We're handling it. That's why we're here."
For the next two hours, Samaira's apartment transformed into organized chaos. The friends had taken over completely.
In the bedroom, Anvitha and Meher were systematically packing Samaira's suitcase with the wedding outfits, accessories, and essentials.
"Okay, so for Pranav's wedding, you have four outfit changes," Anvitha was saying, consulting her phone notes. "Mehendi, sangeet, pre-wedding puja, and the wedding itself. That's the pink anarkali, green lehenga, lavender suit, and the Kanjeevaram saree."
"Plus jewelry for each outfit," Meher added, holding up various sets. "We coordinated everything while you were in Canada."
"You coordinated my jewelry?"
"Someone had to. You were busy winning races."
Samaira watched as they carefully packed each outfit in garment bags, added matching accessories, double-checked the list.
"Don't forget comfortable shoes," Meher said. "You'll be standing a lot during ceremonies."
"And Western clothes for travel," Anvitha added. "You don't want to fly in traditional wear."
In the living room, Rishaan was being interrogated by Veer and Ahaan about wedding logistics.
"So you're flying commercial to Kerala?" Veer asked.
"Yes. My parents and grandmother are taking the family private jet because it's more comfortable for Nannamma. But Ira and I are flying regular."
"Smart. Less family time on travel day," Ahaan observed.
"Exactly. We'll have a few hours just the two of us before we're thrown into family intensity."
"How are you feeling about all this?" Veer asked seriously. "Introducing her to everyone, dealing with your mother, the whole thing?"
"Terrified. Determined. Ready to defend Ira against any judgment." Rishaan ran a hand through his hair. "I know my family can be difficult. I know my mother has already expressed concerns. But I also know Ira is worth fighting for."
"She is," Ahaan agreed. "And you'll handle it. You're good at handling difficult things."
"I hope so."
Back in the bedroom, Meher was showing Samaira photos of the outfits all laid out.
"This green lehenga is going to look stunning on you," she said. "And the Kanjeevaram sareeâSam, you're going to look like actual royalty."
"I feel like I'm playing dress-up."
"You're not playing anything. You're meeting your boyfriend's family at a wedding. You deserve to look incredible."
"What if his mother hates me?"
"Then his mother has terrible judgment," Anvitha said firmly. "But more importantly, Rishaan will defend you. He's already proven that."
"I know. I justâI want this to go well. I want his family to see why he likes me."
"They will," Meher assured her. "Because you're brilliant and kind and perfect for him. Anyone with functioning eyes will see that."
By 9:30 PM, the suitcase was packed with military precision. Every outfit, every accessory, every essential item accounted for.
"This is the most organized I've ever been for a trip," Samaira admitted.
"That's because you usually pack the night before while panicking," Meher said. "We've elevated your game."
They migrated to the living room where Rishaan had ordered dinnerâpizza and Chinese food, because apparently feeding people was his new primary function.
"Okay, so tomorrow morning," Anvitha said, consulting her timeline. "Your flight to Kerala is at 11 AM?"
"Yes," Rishaan confirmed. "Which means leaving here by 8:30 to account for traffic and check-in."
"And you're staying at the beach resort where the wedding is being held?"
"Yes. The family has booked an entire wing. Separate rooms obviously, but same building."
"Obviously," Veer said with a smirk.
"Shut up, Veer."
"I'm just sayingâdestination beach wedding, romantic settingâ"
"VEER," Samaira and Rishaan said simultaneously.
"Fine, fine. I'll behave."
They spent the next hour eating and talking, the conversation flowing easily between wedding plans, race recap, and general friend gossip.
"I can't believe in two weeks, I'm getting married," Anvitha said, looking slightly dazed.
"You're going to be beautiful," Samaira said warmly. "And Ahaan is going to cry."
"I'm not going to cry," Ahaan protested.
"You're absolutely going to cry," everyone else said in unison.
"Maybe a little," he admitted.
Around 11 PM, the friends started gathering their things to leave.
"Call us if you need anything," Meher said, hugging Samaira tightly. "And text us updates from the wedding. We want to know everything."
"I will. Thank you for helping pack, for being here, for everything."
"That's what family does," Anvitha said. "We show up."
After they left, it was just Rishaan and Samaira in her apartment, the sudden quiet feeling significant.
"I should go," Rishaan said, standing. "You need rest, and I need to pack my own stuff."
"What time are you coming back tomorrow?"
"Is 7:30 too early? That gives us time for breakfast before we leave."
"7:30 is perfect."
He pulled her close, kissing her forehead. "Get some sleep, bangaram. Tomorrow's a big day."
"The start of many big days."
"We'll handle them. Together."
"Together," she agreed.
After he left, Samaira stood in her apartment, looking at her perfectly packed suitcase, thinking about everything that was about to happen.
Tomorrow, they'd fly to Kerala. Tomorrow, she'd meet his family. Tomorrow, everything would change.
She was terrified.
She was ready.
She was doing this.
For him. For them. For whatever future they were building together.
Thursday Morning - 7:35 AM
Rishaan's POV:
Rishaan arrived at Samaira's apartment at exactly 7:32 AM, carrying coffee from her favorite café and his own packed bag.
She answered the door in jeans and a simple white kurta, hair already done, looking nervous but determined.
"Good morning, bangaram."
"Morning." She took the coffee gratefully. "You brought sustenance. You're my hero."
"I brought breakfast too. Eat while I double-check your suitcase."
"Rishaan, Meher and Anvitha alreadyâ"
"I know, but let me check anyway. It'll make me feel better."
He went through her suitcase methodically, making sure everything was there. All four outfits, accessories, shoes, toiletries, phone chargers, the works.
"You packed your phone charger?"
"Yes."
"Your laptop?"
"In my carry-on."
"Passport?"
"Also in my carry-on. Rishaan, I'm not a child."
"I know. I'm just nervous."
She came over and took his hands. "Hey. Look at me. We're going to be fine. It's just a wedding. Just meeting some people. We'll handle it."
"You're handling me very well right now."
"That's because you're spiraling and need someone to ground you."
"I'm not spiralingâ"
"You're absolutely spiraling. But it's cute, so I'll allow it."
He pulled her close, breathing in the scent of her shampoo, letting himself feel her solid presence. "I just want this to go well. Want you to feel comfortable and safe andâ"
"I know. And I will be. Because you'll be right there with me. Now come on, we have a flight to catch."
8:45 AM - Airport
The driver Rishaan had hired loaded their luggage while they headed to check-in. The airport was busyâThursday morning travel rushâbut they navigated through efficiently.
"Kerala," the check-in agent said, processing their tickets. "Beach destination?"
"Wedding," Rishaan said.
"How lovely! Congratulations!"
"It's not our wedding," Samaira clarified. "We're attending his cousin's wedding."
"Still lovely!" The agent handed back their boarding passes. "You're in seats 12A and 12B. Boarding starts in forty-five minutes. Have a wonderful trip!"
They went through security, grabbed more coffee, and settled at the gate.
"How are you feeling?" Rishaan asked, watching Samaira scroll through her phone.
"Jet-lagged but managing. Nervous about meeting your family. Excited to see KeralaâI haven't been there in years."
"The resort is supposed to be beautiful. Right on the beach, private access, very upscale."
"Your cousin chose well."
"Pranav's fiancée Anjali is from Kerala. She wanted a destination beach wedding, and honestly, I think it's brilliant. Everyone's on vacation mode, which might make the family less... intense."
"Or it might make them more intense because they have nothing to do but scrutinize the new girlfriend."
"Valid point." He took her hand. "But rememberâif anyone makes you uncomfortable, we leave that conversation. No guilt, no apologies. Your comfort comes first."
"You keep saying that."
"Because I mean it. Every time."
Their boarding group was called, and they joined the queue. As they walked down the jetway, Samaira squeezed his hand.
"Here we go."
"Here we go," he echoed. "You and me, bangaram. We've got this."
"We've got this."
They found their seatsâwindow and middle, which Rishaan had specifically requested so Samaira could look out at the view. He stowed their carry-ons in the overhead compartment and settled in beside her.
"Two and a half hour flight," he said, checking his watch. "We land at 11:30, get to the resort by 1 PM. Lunch with my grandmother, then free time before the mehendi starts at 6 PM."
"You have this very planned out."
"I'm nervous. Planning helps."
"I noticed."
The plane began to taxi, and Samaira leaned against his shoulder, already looking tired.
"Sleep if you want," Rishaan said. "I'll wake you before we land."
"Okay." She closed her eyes. "Shaan?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you. For doing this. For bringing me to meet your family even though it might be complicated. It means a lot."
"Thank you for agreeing to come. For being brave enough to walk into potential judgment and scrutiny because I asked you to. That means everything."
She smiled without opening her eyes. "We're very good at thanking each other."
"We're very good at a lot of things."
"Yes, we are."
As the plane took off, climbing into clear blue skies, Rishaan looked at Samaira dozing beside him and felt something settle in his chest.
This was real. This was happening. In a few hours, his entire family would meet the woman he loved.
And whatever happened, whatever judgments or complications arose, he knew one thing with absolute certainty:
Samaira Reddy was worth fighting for. Worth defending. Worth choosing every single time.
And that's exactly what he planned to do.
Rishaan's POV:
The plane touched down smoothly at Kochi International Airport, and Rishaan gently shook Samaira awake.
"Bangaram, we've landed."
She stirred, blinking sleepily. "Already?"
"You slept the entire flight. Two and a half hours."
"I did?" She straightened, looking confused. "What did you do the whole time?"
He held up the book he'd been readingâone of the thrillers they'd bought together at the bookstore three weeks ago, before she left for Italy. "Finally getting through your recommendation. You were rightâit's very dark and twisty."
"Told you. How far did you get?"
"About halfway. The main character just made a very questionable decision that I'm sure will have terrible consequences."
"It will. Keep reading."
They deplaned and made their way through the small but efficient airport. Their luggage appeared quickly on the carouselâa minor miracle Rishaan was grateful for.
"There's our driver," he said, spotting a man holding a sign with his name.
"Mr. Rishaan? Miss Samaira?" the driver confirmed. "I'm Anand. The car is just outside."
The Kerala heat hit them immediately as they stepped outâhumid, tropical, completely different from Hyderabad's dry warmth. The car was a spacious SUV with good air conditioning, thank god.
As Anand loaded their luggage, Rishaan helped Samaira into the back seat. She was still half-asleep, jet lag clearly winning the battle.
"How far is the resort?" she asked, leaning against his shoulder as the car started moving.
"About forty-five minutes. Coastal road, very scenic. You can sleep more if you want."
"I feel like all I've done is sleep."
"You've been traveling for three days straight. Sleep is allowed."
But she stayed awake this time, watching the landscape change as they left the city behind. Kerala was lushâgreen everywhere, palm trees lining the roads, glimpses of backwaters and canals, small villages with colorful houses.
"It's beautiful here," Samaira said softly.
"It is. I've only been to Kerala once before, for a school trip years ago. Never to this coast."
"Your cousin's fiancée has good taste in wedding venues."
"Wait until you see the resort. I looked it upâprivate beach, infinity pool, the whole luxury experience."
The drive took them along the coast road, ocean visible on their left, the water brilliant blue against golden sand. Finally, they turned into a palm-lined driveway with a discreet sign: Oceana Beach Resort & Spa.
"We're here," Rishaan said unnecessarily, as the resort came into view.
It was stunningâwhite buildings with traditional Kerala architecture, red tile roofs, sprawling gardens, and beyond it all, the beach and ocean stretching endlessly.
The car pulled up to the main entrance where staff immediately appeared to help with luggage.
"Mr. Rishaan Chowdary?" A smartly dressed woman with a welcoming smile approached. "I'm Riya, the guest relations manager. Welcome to Oceana. Your family has already checked in. If you'll follow me to the lobby?"
They entered a beautiful open-air lobbyâhigh ceilings, tropical plants, the sound of fountains mixing with distant ocean waves. And there, standing near the reception desk, was his grandmother.
"RISHAAN! SAMAIRA!"
Savitri's voice rang out across the lobby, and she was practically bouncing on her feet with excitement despite her seventy-plus years.
But before Rishaan could even move, Samaira had spotted her.
"AMMAMMA!"
And then Samaira was runningâactually running across the marble lobby floorâand Savitri was opening her arms wide, and the two of them collided in a hug that was equal parts joyful and emotional.
"Child! You're here! You're finally here!" Ammamma was holding Samaira's face in her hands, examining her like she was precious treasure. "Let me look at you! You're too thin! Have you been eating?"
"I've been eating, Ammamma, I promise."
"Not enough! Look at you! But so beautiful! So, so beautiful!"
They were both laughing and crying a little, and Rishaan just stood there watching, feeling something warm and complicated in his chest.
Then he cleared his throat. "Hello, Nannamma. I'm here too. Your actual grandson. Remember me?"
Both women turned to look at him, and he could see the mischief in their expressions.
"Oh, yes," Ammamma said casually. "Hello, Rishaan. Nice of you to show up."
"I'm right here! I've been here the whole time!"
"We know, beta," Nannamma said, patting his cheek absently while keeping her other arm around Samaira. "But I haven't seen this one in person since your village visit. Let me have my moment."
"I'm being neglected by my own grandmother."
"You're being dramatic," Samaira said, but she was smiling. She reached out and took his hand, pulling him closer. "Come here, you big baby."
He joined their hug, and for a moment, the three of them just stood there in the resort lobbyâgrandmother, grandson, and the woman who was somehow already family despite only officially dating for three weeks.
"I'm so happy you're both here," Nannamma said, voice thick with emotion. "Together. Where you should be."
Before Rishaan could respond, a commotion from the other side of the lobby announced the arrival of his cousins.
"IS THAT RISHAAN?"
"And he brought someone!"
"The mysterious girlfriend!"
"Oh my god, she's real!"
Rishaan turned to see approximately seven cousins descending on them like an enthusiastic storm. Priya, Neha, Aditya, and several others he hadn't seen in months, all talking over each other in excitement.
"Everyone, please," Nannamma said, trying to maintain order. "Give them space to breatheâ"
But it was too late. The cousins had surrounded them.
"You must be Samaira!" Priyaâhis favorite cousinâpulled Samaira into an immediate hug. "I'm Priya! We've been dying to meet you!"
"The Ferrari engineer!" Neha added, eyes wide. "That's so cool! Tell us everything!"
"Is it true you work with Lewis Hamilton?" one of the younger male cousins asked.
"Wrong team," Samaira said, laughing. "I work for Ferrari. Different constructor."
"Still impressive!" Aditya said. "Rishaan never dates anyone. Hasn't seriously dated in years. And then suddenly he's bringing his girlfriend to a family wedding? We needed to meet the woman who accomplished this miracle."
"I'm right here," Rishaan protested. "Still existing. Still your cousin."
"We know, Rishaan," Priya said, waving him off. "But Samaira is new and interesting. You're old and boring."
"I'm not boring!"
"You talk about textile exports," Neha said. "That's the definition of boring."
The cousins absorbed Samaira completely, asking questions, complimenting her outfit, generally being overwhelming in the way large Indian families always were. Rishaan watched as she handled them with graceâanswering questions, laughing at their jokes, somehow making them all fall a little bit in love with her within minutes.
Priya had her arm linked through Samaira's, already deep in conversation about something. Neha was showing her photos on her phone. The male cousins were trying to impress her with their knowledge of F1 (limited) and their accomplishments (exaggerated).
Rishaan was forgotten. His own family had forgotten him in favor of his girlfriend.
He should probably be annoyed. Instead, he was just amused and maybe a little proud. She fit. Immediately, naturally, she fit with his cousins in ways he'd barely dared hope for.
Pranav appeared from somewhere, looking slightly frazzled but happy. "Rishaan! You made it!"
"Barely. Your cousins kidnapped my girlfriend."
"I noticed. Priya's already claimed her as her new best friend." Pranav clapped him on the shoulder. "She seems great, man. Really great. I'm happy for you."
"Thanks. Where are we checked in? I need to get Ira to the room so she can rest before tonight's events."
"About thatâ" Pranav's expression turned apologetic. "We have a slight situation."
"What kind of situation?"
"So, we had you both in separate rooms initially, but there's been a logistics issue. One of the rooms in your wing is being used for storageâwe brought so much stuff from Andhra Pradesh for the wedding, traditional items, decorations, gifts. And we need space to organize it all."
Rishaan's stomach dropped. "Pranavâ"
"So there's only one room available in your wing. But!" he added quickly, seeing Rishaan's expression. "It's a suite. King bed, separate sitting area, huge bathroom. Very comfortable. If you're both okay with sharing?"
"Iâ" Rishaan looked over at Samaira, who was still surrounded by cousins. "I need to ask her. Make sure she's comfortable with it."
"Of course, of course. Look, if she's not, we can try to move things around, put you in a different wingâ"
"Let me talk to her first."
Rishaan made his way through the cousin cluster, gently touching Samaira's elbow. "Ira? Can I borrow you for a second?"
"Oh!" She turned from her conversation with Priya. "Of course. Sorry, everyoneâ"
"Don't apologize!" Priya said. "We'll still be here when you get back!"
Rishaan guided her to a quieter corner of the lobby, near a fountain that provided some privacy.
"What's wrong?" she asked immediately, reading his expression.
"Nothing's wrong exactly. Justâthere's a room situation."
"A room situation?"
"Pranav had us booked in separate rooms initially, but they're using one for storage because there's so much wedding stuff. So there's only one room available. In a suite. With one bed."
He watched her process this, waiting for discomfort or concern.
Instead, she just looked at him with tired but trusting eyes. "Okay."
"Okay?"
"Okay. We share the room. It's fine, Shaan."
"Are you sure? Because if you're not comfortable, we can figure something else outâ"
"I'm comfortable. I trust you." She reached up and touched his face gently. "We've literally slept in the same bed before. This is fine."
"That was differentâ"
"How?"
"That was in Hyderabad, spontaneous, we fell asleep talking. This isâthis is planned. Sharing a room at a family wedding. It feels more... significant."
"It is more significant. But I'm still okay with it. Are you?"
"I'm more than okay with it. I just wanted to make sure you were."
"I am. Now can we please go to this room? I really need to wash up and possibly nap for another hour."
"Actually, you need to eat first. It's been hours since breakfast."
"Shaanâ"
"No arguments. You're running on caffeine and jet lag. You need actual food. Then you can nap before the mehendi tonight."
She sighed but didn't argue further. "Fine. But make it quick. I'm exhausted."
They went back to Pranav, who handed over a key card. "Suite 304. Third floor, ocean view. Absolutely beautiful."
"Thanks, Pranav."
"And Rishaan?" Pranav lowered his voice. "Your parents are already here. They're in the wing on the other side. Just... be prepared."
"Noted."
The suite was indeed beautifulâspacious, elegantly decorated in whites and blues, with a massive king bed, sitting area with a couch, and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the ocean. The bathroom was larger than Samaira's apartment bathroom in Italy.
"This is gorgeous," Samaira said, dropping her purse on the couch.
"It is. Bathroom's through there if you want to wash up."
She disappeared into the bathroom while Rishaan tipped the bellhop who'd brought up their luggage. When she emerged fifteen minutes later, face washed, hair redone, she looked marginally more awake.
"Better?" he asked.
"Better. Now food?"
"Now food. Then you can collapse on that very comfortable-looking bed and sleep until the mehendi."
They went down to the resort restaurant where a buffet lunch was set up. Samaira filled her plate with rice, curry, and dal while Rishaan got them both drinks.
They found a quiet table on the restaurant's terrace, overlooking the ocean.
"This view is ridiculous," Samaira said between bites. "I could get used to this."
"Kerala's beautiful. I'd forgotten."
"Have you seen your parents yet?"
"No. Pranav said they're in a different wing. I'm sure we'll see them tonight at the mehendi."
"How do you think they'll react? To seeing us together?"
"My mother will probably be polite but cold. My father will be neutral. But honestly, I don't care. You're here, we're together, and that's what matters."
"Very romantic for someone who's eating dal."
"I contain multitudes."
She laughed, and the sound made everything feel lighter.
They ate quicklyâSamaira because she was exhausted, Rishaan because he could see her fighting to keep her eyes open.
"Come on," he said, standing. "Back to the room. You're falling asleep in your curry."
"I'm fineâ" she yawned hugely. "Okay, maybe not fine."
Back in the suite, Samaira headed straight for the bed, literally falling face-first into the plush white comforter.
"So comfortable," she mumbled into the pillow.
"Ira, you need to actually get under the coversâ"
"Too tired. Sleeping now."
"At least take off your shoesâ"
But she was already asleep, still wearing her jeans and kurta, shoes on, sprawled across half the bed like she'd been knocked unconscious.
Rishaan sighed fondly and carefully removed her shoes, then pulled a light blanket over her. She didn't even stir.
He set an alarm on his phone for 4 PMâgiving her three hours to sleep before they needed to start getting ready for the mehendiâand settled on the couch with his book.
Outside the windows, the ocean stretched endlessly blue.
Inside the room, Samaira slept like the dead, recovering from days of travel and jet lag.
And Rishaan sat there, reading about fictional murders and moral ambiguity, thinking about how thisâthis quiet moment in a luxury resort with the woman he loved sleeping peacefully nearbyâthis was what happiness felt like.
Real, genuine, uncomplicated happiness.
Whatever his family threw at them tonight, they'd handle it.
Together.
Always together.
To be continued...
Word Count: 15,510
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