Beds of Roses

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Title: Bed of Roses

An arranged marriage. A reluctant heart. A love that grew anyway.

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Part One: The Reluctant Groom

Arjun Kapoor was twenty-eight, successful, and dangerously handsome - the kind of man whose presence could command a room without a single word. His chiseled jawline, dark eyes, and tailored suits made him a favorite among business magazines and matchmaking aunties alike. But while others saw him as the perfect bachelor, Arjun himself couldn't care less.

He had no time for love.

No time for dating.

No time for anything that didn't fall into his meticulously structured routine.

His days started before dawn and ended long after midnight. Emails, meetings, boardrooms, international calls - that was his world. Love, romance, relationships? They were distractions. He had goals. Building Kapoor Industries into a global tech giant was one. Falling in love was not.

But his parents disagreed.

"You're not a machine, Arjun," his mother said one evening as they sat across from each other at the Kapoor family mansion in Delhi. "You need someone. A partner. A wife."

"I don't," Arjun replied calmly, sipping his green tea. "I'm fine."

His father folded his newspaper. "Son, we gave you space. But you're nearly thirty. You barely come home. You don't attend family functions. And you've never brought a girl home."

"Because I don't have one."

"Exactly!" his mother snapped, then softened. "We want to see you happy, Arjun. Not just successful."

He sighed. This conversation again.

Then, without consulting him again, his parents arranged a meeting with the Mehra family.

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Part Two: The Unexpected Bride

Anita Mehra was the kind of woman who made you feel warm just by being near her. She wasn't flashy or loud, but her brightness came from within. With large expressive eyes, a soft laugh, and a heart that seemed to stretch endlessly for others, she was adored by all who knew her.

She worked as a child therapist in Mumbai and volunteered at a center for children with special needs. Her days were filled with giggles, storybooks, paint stains, and chaos - and she loved every bit of it.

When her parents brought up the arranged marriage idea, she was hesitant.

"I don't even know this man," she said, playing with the edge of her dupatta.

"But he's a good man," her mother insisted. "Educated. Stable. Comes from a respected family. And he's not bad to look at either."

Anita laughed. "That's not the point."

"You'll meet him first. If you don't like him, we'll walk away."

She agreed - reluctantly.

Then fate intervened.

One rainy Saturday afternoon, Anita stepped out of her favorite bookstore carrying a stack of new books. As she turned a corner, she collided with someone - hard.

Books tumbled everywhere. Her knee scraped the sidewalk. "Oh no, I'm so sorry!"

"So am I," said a deep voice.

She looked up - and froze.

Tall. Clean-cut. Intense eyes. Dressed in a gray shirt, sleeves rolled up.

He bent down, gathering her books. Their hands brushed. She looked away, flustered.

"Are you okay?" he asked, concern flickering in his voice.

"Yes. I just - didn't see you coming."

A pause.

Then he handed her the last book. "Be careful."

And just like that, he was gone.

Later that evening, her parents showed her Arjun Kapoor's photo.

Her jaw dropped.

"It's him," she whispered.

"What?"

"I bumped into him today. Outside the bookstore."

Her mother beamed. "It's a sign!"

Anita didn't believe in coincidences. But maybe, just maybe...

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Part Three: A Marriage of Strangers

The wedding was elegant and efficient - much like Arjun himself. Held in a private garden surrounded by fairy lights, gold accents, and close family, it was more formal than romantic.

Anita wore a deep red lehenga. Her bangles clinked as she held her bouquet. Her smile was soft, steady.

Arjun stood beside her, his face unreadable.

They were married by sundown.

The next morning, they moved into Arjun's modern apartment in Mumbai. It had high ceilings, chrome appliances, and not a single photo frame. Everything was gray, black, or white. Like his personality.

Anita quietly began making changes. A colorful cushion here. A flower vase there. Slowly, subtly, she brought warmth into the cold.

But Arjun barely noticed.

He left early, came back late. Barely spoke more than polite sentences.

Anita waited.

She left him notes: "Have a great day :)"

She made dinner. He ate silently.

Three weeks passed.

Then one night, she waited up.

It was past midnight when the door clicked open.

"You're awake?" he asked.

"Yes," she said. "I was hoping we could talk."

"I'm tired, Anita. Maybe tomorrow?"

"You always say that."

Silence.

She stood. "I know you didn't want this. Neither did I. But we're married now. Can we at least try to know each other?"

He exhaled. "I don't know how to do this."

"Then let's figure it out. Together."

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(To be continued...