Chapter: The Fear She Never Spoke

The hall was empty now.

Only Poornima, Neha, Sirisha, and Yashwanth remained, sitting quietly near the corner.

Yashwanth spoke first, carefully.

“Poornima… you should accept the proposal.”

She looked at him, startled.

“Not because he’s Veeresh Devraj,” Yashwanth continued,

“but because his father spoke for you—without conditions, without comparison.”

He leaned forward.

“A family that respects you from the start matters.”

Far away, at the temple, Veeresh stood with folded hands, eyes closed.

He didn’t ask for success.

He didn’t ask for power.

He prayed for only one thing—

Please don’t let her reject me.

Back in the hall, Neha held Poornima’s hand.

“You will be loved in his family,” she said softly.

Sirisha nodded.

“With Veeresh, it may take time,” she admitted.

“But when he chooses, he chooses completely.”

“It will be worth it,” Neha added.

“And whatever happens—we’re always with you.”

Poornima’s composure finally cracked.

“What if… he also insults me?” she whispered.

“For my colour. Like my family did.”

Her voice trembled.

“What if he mocks my profession—calls it small, unimportant?”

Tears rolled down her cheeks.

“I can’t take that again,” she said, breaking.

“I’ll shatter.”

Sirisha pulled her into a hug.

“But listen,” she said firmly,

“even if the world turns against you—he will stand with you.”

Neha wiped her tears.

“You won’t fight alone this time.”

Poornima closed her eyes.

For the first time, the fear wasn’t about marriage.

It was about hope.

And how dangerous it felt to believe in it again.