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Chapter 3: Who is she?

Reyansh pov.

After taking a shower and changing into my comfortable clothes, I make my way towards my sister's room to take the envelope from her. Even I want to see who is the girl that my mother chose for me.

I knock on her door and wait for her to open the door.

She opens the door and leans on the frame, her hands folded on her chest.

"Yes, brother, what do you want ?" She asks in a sarcastic tone.

" Well, mom said you have the envelope containing information about my- 'future wife'. I want that," I say.

"Ooh, is someone eager to meet their wife?". She asks.

"What? No! I just want to see who I will be marrying," I replied.

"Ok then, I will give you the envelope. But I must say you are a lucky person to have a girl like her. I saw her picture, And I think she is religious. And she has these big doe eyes covered in kohl and big glasses on them. Her dressing sense, my God, she looks so fucking good in that sari. Looking so innocent, and I hope she wears these sarees to more events with you."

With each word she said, I dreaded opening the envelope, more and more.

Oh my god!

What am I going to do?

She is not my type from- what I gathered- she is shy and innocent. Like a typical Indian girl.

How are we compatible with each other?

And Naira said that she was religious.

Whereas I don't believe in God.

What if the press knows about this?

I am known for fashion and style.

People fear and respect me.

What will they think when I have a shy wife.

Ugh, this is all so stressful.

I went towards my study, ignoring my sister calling out my name.

I settled on my chair and kept the envelope on the table.

I think about what will happen in the future.

I will be going to India to marry a girl whose name I don't know.

What if she is a bitch towards my family and- is only marrying me for my money?

But my mom would not just marry me to someone who- doesn't have class and did not pass her test, now would she?

I close my eyes and sigh.

I then glance at the envelope sitting in front of me and finally open it.

I start reading her biodata.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Name Elora Kohli.

D.O.B.: 12/04/1995

Age: 26

Education: Bachelors degree.

Occupation: teaching in kindergarten, ******

Interests/hobbies: reading books, cooking, art, listening to music, playing with kids.

*Other certificates and legal documents, attached*

*photo attached*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I sigh again as I read her information there isn't much to know about her.

And seriously?

A teacher.

The planet's most renowned and most affluent man will be marrying a teacher married to a teacher?

And her hobbies? I can't even imagine how boring she would be.

There is also not much about her.

I suppose she is an introvert, whereas I am an extrovert.

God, what will happen when she has to stand in front of a crowd beside me.

I don't think she will be able to endure this life where the media is always running behind you and where every day a magazine prints a new saga about you. But she has to go to some of the affairs with me, if not all of them. The media will question why I don't bring her with me.

I rake my hair in frustration and get up to pour myself a glass of whiskey. Yes, I drink, and my family doesn't know. Well, only my father knows. If my mother knew then -

Anyways, I sit on my desk, with the glass in my hand. Trying to gather my courage to open the envelope and look at her photo.

I am already imagining how she will look. I guess, she will have big glasses instead of small ones.

Big brown eyes.

A button nose.

I huff- I bet she is too simple. And will be shy and submissive. Maybe she also is scared by my lifestyle and leave after a few years.

I feel giddy at the thought.

But somewhere in my heart, deep down, I felt immense pain at the thought of her ditching me.

I shake my head.

For goodness sake!

I haven't even seen her picture or met her, then why the hell am I behaving like this.

Just then, I decided that I would not behave like this in front of her.

I don't like the girl and don't, want her in my life.

I am just marrying her for the sake of my parents and their happiness.

Nothing more, nothing less.

I can't get any girl to affect me, on top of that the, one I haven't even met or like.

With that thought in my mind, I pick up the envelope and- place it in my last drawer. The one which I don't check repeatedly.

I go back to my room and get under the duvet, I think about today's wild events. I need to go back to my game- I can't perform like this. I will have to ask ma and grandma about this marriage and make time in my schedule accordingly.

And I close my eyes to let sleep lure me in.


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