Chapter-1: The Contract

Anaya, a kind-hearted and intelligent woman from a respected family, is forced into an arranged marriage with Veer, the aloof heir of a powerful business empire. Despite the coldness of the arrangement, Anaya genuinely tries to make the marriage work. She falls in love with Veer—not just with the man, but with the hope that one day he might return her feelings.

But Veer remains emotionally distant. He’s still in love with his long-time girlfriend, Meera, a glamorous and ambitious woman working in a rival industry. Veer keeps their relationship a secret from the world, but Anaya knows. She sees the signs, the texts, the cold silences..

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Anaya

Veer

(credits goes to.he real owners of this pictures)

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Title: When Hearts Remember

Chapter 1: The Contract

Anaya sat perfectly still as the priest chanted the final mantras. Her parents, beaming with pride, barely noticed the stiffness in her movements. Her hands trembled beneath layers of gold bangles, the weight of tradition pressing down on her wrists like shackles. She could barely bring herself to look at Veer.

He sat across from her, poised and expressionless, wearing a cream sherwani too elegant for someone so emotionally detached. His face was unreadable, like a marble statue—flawless, but cold. His gaze never lingered on her; instead, it remained fixed slightly above the priest’s head, as if he were watching a scene unfold from outside his own body. It wasn’t the wedding she had dreamed of, but it was the one her family had chosen.

The deal had been struck like a business contract. Her father, owner of a struggling pharmaceutical firm, and Veer’s father, head of a billion-dollar conglomerate, had found mutual benefit in the union. A merger of legacies, a reinforcement of power. Anaya was the price.

She remembered the day her father had told her, gently but firmly, that this marriage was the best path forward for everyone. “He’s a good man,” he had said. “He’ll take care of you.”

But what her father hadn’t said was that love, affection, and choice were not part of the bargain.

When the ceremony ended, the newlyweds stood to receive blessings and congratulations. Veer nodded politely, hand resting loosely on Anaya’s back as they posed for pictures. The clicking cameras captured smiles that never reached their eyes.

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(credits goes to the real owners of this pictures)

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To everyone else, they looked like a perfect couple. But the space between them felt miles wide.

The reception that followed was a blur. Guests laughed, danced, drank, and gossiped under chandeliers and floral canopies. Anaya felt like a guest at her own wedding. She smiled mechanically, offered pleasantries, and endured the sly compliments of distant relatives who praised her "luck" for marrying such a successful man.

Later that night, Anaya stood alone in the bedroom of Veer’s sleek Mumbai penthouse. The room looked like a luxury hotel—beautiful, minimalist, but impersonal. No pictures, no books, no hint of a life lived there. A maid had neatly placed her suitcase in a corner, the silence in the room only broken by the faint hum of the city outside the glass windows.

She changed out of her bridal attire slowly, carefully folding the red silk lehenga as though the delicate fabric could tear under the weight of her thoughts. Her makeup smudged slightly at the corners from tears she hadn’t realized had fallen.

The door creaked open. Veer entered, loosening his collar, eyes tired, lips pressed in a line.

“I’ll take the guest room,” he said, not quite meeting her eyes.

Anaya looked at him for a long moment. “Okay.”

He nodded and turned, walking out with the same indifference he had worn all day.

She sat on the edge of the bed, heart heavy, fingers brushing the embroidery of her veil still resting on the mattress. She had promised herself she would try. Even if he didn’t love her—yet—maybe someday he would. She didn’t expect miracles, just small moments: a shared laugh, a thoughtful question, a spark.

But somewhere deep inside, she feared he had already given his heart to someone else. And she was only a placeholder in the life he had been forced to reshape.

As she lay down on one side of the enormous bed, staring at the unfamiliar ceiling, Anaya made a quiet vow—not to lose herself while trying to earn the love of a man who hadn’t even looked at her properly.

Not yet.

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