Saturday, 7 October 2017

part 4 : The second

            He went back, Thank god he went back. Ridhima never in her life had once thought she would get married at eighteen. But now look at her, she was just three months away from turning eighteen and was going to be getting married, that too to a man who she hates and who hates her back.
            Like always a rich man can never stay away from work for too long. Before Armaan had left. The wedding was settled. It was going to be a small wedding in Germany, unfortunately Ridhima's parents weren't going to be there. It was going to be simple in court marriage.

            Armaan had left behind Ridhima a gold credit card. It was a card which was tapped into the Weapon's company's finical system of about sixty three billion dollars. She was free to buy whatever she wanted before the wedding. Armaan had told Ridhima's mother that she would need more of classy clothes, for business functions and such.
            All that Ridhima was happy about was the fact that Armaan was gone, and she would not have to deal with him for another three months. It wasn't like she did not try to make things work. Every night she would either call Armaan or he would call her. They tried to sound civilized but the conversation would rarely pass two minutes before someone would say something offensive and they would both snap in anger.
            "Ridhima, what do you think of this?" Alison asked holding up a very beautiful five thousand dollar dress. Ridhima just said it was beautiful. It was a nice pretty little red dress, but for some reason Ridhima was just not in the mood for playing dress up.
            As the wedding days got closer the more and more Ridhima kept thinking of the past. She missed Falak the most, she had been her best friend and Ridhima had not seen her in three years. But most of all she missed Anvil. If he had still been alive things would have been different. She and Armaan would never be getting married.
            Ridhima did not understand how Anvil and Armaan could have been so close and yet so different. In every way they were the same. The liked the same food, same movie, same everything, but when it came to her Anvil loved her but Armaan and her just did not get along. Armaan would find little things of Ridhima offensive and all the same Ridhima would find little things off Armaan irritating to the core of her heart.
            Ridhima and her mother took the dress to the counter and had it charged on the credit card. They had already done a good chuck of the shopping two months before the wedding. The only good thing for Ridhima was the fact that she did not have to buy a wedding gown. She was going to be getting married in court and it wasn't like any one was going to be there to look at the bride.
            The three months few by so fast that Ridhima felt scared at how fast life could pass by. There were only a few days left before the wedding, she had everything packed and ready to go. Ridhima was supposed to arrive one day before the wedding.
            Armaan had sent the private plane for her, she had to admit, although he may dislike her in every way. he certainly had respect for her. It sounded odd to think in such a way when he hit her and kick her but still he was respectful. She knew very well that he could be a lot more brutal then he was when it came to actually fighting her, but it wasn't. He always was the one that would stop the fights when he felt like it was getting to dangerous, but Ridhima was the one to always start the fight and prolong it as long as she could.
            She sat in the private plane, she had waved off to her parents at the air port before leaving. Ridhima missed them already. She wasn't sure when she was going to get to see her parents again. she was leaving everything behind her, everything that she knew of in a different country.
            She was no longer going to be Ridhima Gupta, she was going to be Ridhima Mailk. A German citizen, a German wife, with a foreign language which she barely knew how to speak, with the man she hated.
            Although the plane was very comfortable in every way, Ridhima just could not sleep. She was too worried, she was going to be marring Armaan, the last person on earth had had ever thought she could marry.
            Ridhima was not worried that Armaan would force her to do it with him on the wedding night or any night for that matter, she knew he had better respect for women or any woman for that matter to never to do such a thing. What she was afraid of was that he would seduce her into agreeing to sleep with him.
            She would rather be forced by him every night of her life then be seduced by him into saying yes only one time.
            Armaan paced his room back a forward, he could not decide what to do. Ridhima was supposed the arrive today and he did not know if he should have her stay with him in his room or give her an own room until the wedding itself.
            Although the house held a good nine extra bedrooms, he would not allow Ridhima to stay in any other room but his. It wasn't a lie that she was extraordinarily beautiful compared to her peers her age, but she was a girl with spunk. He wanted her in his room after the wedding because that's how married people were supposed to live.
            Armaan was a man that always looked at the whole picture; he just could not imagine himself in his sixties and still battling it out with Ridhima. They must have something in common, something to bring down the hate and anger in each other to at least at a bare minimum of tolerance of each other. 
            Armaan knew Ridhima would try to make the marriage work if he put in the effort too, and maybe just maybe, in that little speck of hope he just might in a probability of one in a million like Ridhima, Armaan thought…Nah that would never happen. He finally told himself inside his head.
            Ridhima arrived at the house with her suite cases. Apparently Germany did not have limos like in the U.S., the rich drove in old style cars from the time of World War II but in a classier version.
            Before Ridhima could knock on the door Falak opened the door with the biggest smile and a cheer full look "You're here!" Falak said as she grabbed one of Ridhima's suite cases. "Armaan, Ridhima's here" She yelled out in the house. Like always Falak was well dressed even inside the house. That was one this Ridhima remembered about her. She and her brother, even Armaan. They always were dressed up as if going to the party of the century. Ridhima could never remember when she had seen either Armaan or Anvil not in a suite, and Falak not in a lovely dress.
            Ridhima always felt under dressed in front of Falak as she was only wearing regular old jeans and a t-shirt.
            When Armaan came down the stairs his grin turned to a frown at the sight of Ridhima "Didn't you go shopping in New York" that was the first thing that come out of his mouth and already she wanted to kick the man. No hi or hello just the crude 'what the hell are you wearing look'
            Ridhima closed her hands in to fist and relaxed them "I did, there in the bag" Ridhima said through gritted teeth. Falak sensed the tension in Ridhima's voice; it was really hard to miss it. So to lighten the mood she just said "Come on Ridhima, you must be tried, I'll show you were you can rest for now" Falak said as the butlers took Ridhima's suite cases up behind her.
            It was the day of the wedding and never had Armaan be so nerves in his life. He was a man that stuck to commitment. It was a man that stuck to his word and he knew that if he married Ridhima, he would never leave her. What sucked the most was that Anvil knew Armaan was a man of his word and knew how to trap Armaan into such a wedding.
            Maybe it was Anvil's way of getting revenge, Armaan thought. He quickly singed the court documents and soon after so did Ridhima. This was probably going to be a birthday she would remember forever.


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