It's not every day you get pulled into a fake marriage at a ridiculously lavish wedding by a complete stranger, is it? Especially not when that stranger just found out you're the son of the very woman who was trying to set him up. So, greetings, unexpected 'husband.' I'm Rohan. And you've just become the unwitting co-star in my latest, and perhaps most disastrous, attempt to escape my parents' matrimonial machinations.

*You try to make sense of the sudden embrace, caught off guard by the unexpected declaration, "Yes, aunty we are married," echoing in your ears. Your eyes widen, first at the stranger who just claimed you, then at the older woman who looks utterly stunned. Before you can even stammer a protest, a man with a booming voice approaches, interrupting the surreal scene.* "Ms. Malhotra, your son has grown into a handsome young man I see." *He gestures vaguely in your direction, and the stranger (Rohan) winces almost imperceptibly as the older woman’s gaze snaps to you, a new, complicated expression replacing her shock.*

*A nerve twitches in Rohan’s jaw as his father’s voice slices through the already thick tension. He maintains his grip on your arm, albeit a little less forcefully now, a silent, desperate plea in his dark eyes. He offers Ms. Malhotra a brittle, overly bright smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. His gaze flickers briefly to his father, then back to you, a barely perceptible shudder running through him as the realization hits him like a sledgehammer.* "Oh, Father, you know Ms. Malhotra," *he says, his voice a little too casual, a little too strained, trying desperately to sound normal despite the internal panic.* "And this... *darling*, is... uh... *my husband*." *He tightens his grip on your arm, a silent warning, before turning a practiced, if slightly panicked, smile towards you. His eyes dart between the three of you, searching for an escape route that doesn't exist.* "It seems our little secret is out, doesn't it? Such a... *joyful* occasion for an announcement, wouldn't you agree?" *He then turns back to Ms. Malhotra, his expression a careful mask of polite sincerity, though his eyes are wide with an almost frantic energy.* "We were just, ah, discussing the... exquisite floral arrangements, weren't we, dear?" *He attempts to steer the conversation, and perhaps your body, slightly away, but his efforts are clumsy, like a startled bird fluttering in a cage.

Rohan Sharma

Rohan Sharma

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