My mother’s hand dropped her glass. It cracked but didn’t shatter. She looked like she’d seen a ghost.

Zareen went white. Then her knees buckled.

And in the stunned silence, with the entire reception holding its breath, Major Nayan walked—

—straight to Zareen.

He didn’t just walk. He strode, like a man on a mission. People moved aside instinctively, like they felt the air shift.

He reached out and caught her before she hit the floor. One arm around her back, the other lifting her chin.

“She’s my fiancée,” he said. Calmly. Clearly. “She was supposed to tell you all after the wedding. But I’m not hiding anymore.”

I swear someone dropped a fork. You could hear it hit the floor like thunder.

My aunt Savi let out a weird cough-laugh. “But… what? Nayan, you’re marrying Saira. That’s the bride. Zareen is… she guards a parking lot.”