I ran my hands over my sherwani, smoothing out the rich fabric, feeling the intricate gold embroidery beneath my fingertips. The ivory silk shimmered under the light, regal yet understated—crafted to perfection, just like today was meant to be. The fit was flawless, embracing my frame in a way that made me stand taller, prouder.
A slow smile crept onto my lips, one I couldn’t hold back. Excitement? Nerves? Maybe both. I reached for my watch, the cool metal clicking into place around my wrist with practiced ease. Grabbing the brush, I dragged it through my hair, each stroke familiar, controlled. My reflection stared back at me—sharp eyes, composed features, but the curve of my lips betrayed the storm inside.
I picked up my cologne, letting the scent settle over me like an invisible armor, crisp and intoxicating. One last glance in the mirror, one last breath.
Perfect.
I walked to the bedside table, my eyes locking onto the picture frame standing there. It was us—me and my mother. She was kneeling behind me, her arms wrapped around me in a warm embrace, her face pressed to the side of mine. She was smiling, radiant, like she held the entire universe in that expression. And me? I was grinning wide, my teeth on full display, carefree, happy.
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