Note: There are no more past flashbacks; all events henceforth are set in FC Kundra Gardens, in the present, on Aditi Ahuja and Ruturaj Gaikwad's wedding day.

"Mahati, dear, do see to what Mr Jha wants," called Mrs Chaturvedi acorss the room.

"He'll be complaining about the schedule again," said Mahati mutiniously, but she went to meet the event planner anyway. "What do you want now?" she demanded.

"Miss Chaturvedi, if we don't get started by noon, the entire schedule is going to get upset..."

"FOR GOD'S SAKE, TELL THAT TO THE SALON PEOPLE!" said Mahati, exasperated.

"I'm sorry, mam, they're saying they need three hours to gt Miss Ahuja ready," said Mr Jha in an apologetic tone.

"What the hell does Aditi need three hours for?" Mahati strode back to the ladies' room. "Adi, wrap this up in half an hour, Mr Jha is freaking out there..."

"Half an hour?" said Aditi, feeling her hair, which was still in curlers, and looking down at her feet where two salon people were currently working on her nails. "I don't think that's possible."

"Then why don't you deal with Mr Jha yourself? He has called me five times since morning!" said Mahati.

"Ignore him," advised Aditi. "In fact why don't you rest for a few minutes? You've been working since morning..."

"Since before the sun rose, you mean," muttered Mahati.

"Miss Chaturvedi, could I have a word please?"

It was Mr Jha AGAIN, looking agitated.

"If you say another word about the schedule, I swear I'll-"

"Mahati, don't speak like that," scolded her mother, who always had a ear open for her daughter's impatient and rude tone.

"Ma, I've had enough! Speak to Mr Jha yourself!"

"I can't, dear, I'm in charge of Aditi's makeup-"

"WHAT DOES SHE NEED MAKEUP FOR? SHE COULD GET OUT OF BED AND GO TO THE MANDAP AND STILL BE BEAUTIFUL ENOUGH TO GET MARRIED!"

"Hush," said Mrs Chaturvedi. "People are staring, Mahi!"

"MA, I'M TIRED! DON'T YOU GET THE SIMPLE FACT THAT I'M TIRED?

"I know, dear, we're all tired..." began her mother in a calm voice.

"I've had enough of this stupid wedding! I'm off!" 

Mahati turned to storm out of the room and came face to face with Rutu at the door.

"Who are you shouting at?" he asked anxiously.

"Oh, have you finally woken up?" asked Mahati.

"I've been up since dawn," said Rutu.

"And yet it did not occur to you to come and help in handling your wedding's stupid event planner," flared Mahati.

Rutu looked baffled, which Mahati guessed was justified. Behind them, her mother made hand gestures at Rutu that seemed to convey she's in a bad mood, don't mind her.

That made Mahati madder than ever; she pushed past Rutu and the dozen other wedding planners clustered around the door and headed towards the stairs.

"Mac!" Rutu caught up with her.

"Rutu, I am really not in the mood for company."

"I thought we could catch a bit of the Ashes," said Rutu.

In spite of her dreadful mood, Mahati's shoulders relaxed a tiny bit.

"Okay," she said. "But come to my room, because I'm going to change out of these stupid clothes first."

Rutu glanced at her fancy Indianwear. "They're not very stupid."

Mahati's hackles rose again. 

"But never mind," said Rutu. "Change them."

Mahati's mood was not improved by tripping on the hem of her lehenga just outside the door of her room. She snatched whatever clothes she found in the cupboard most easily and stomped into the washroom, slamming the door.

Of course, she knew she was supposed to take off the delicate clothes with care, but the sparkly green lehenga was just a reminder of this wedding she hated. A reminder that it was Aditi and Rutu who were getting married, and she was the one working like a slave, even more than the event planner, and at least he got paid.

The satisfying ripping sound made her feel a lot better.

By the time she'd stepped out wearing her plainest loungewear, the torn lehenga in her arms, Rutu had put on live streaming of the Ashes.

"England has come down to bat, didn't impose the follow on...think it's the right decision?"

"What's their lead?" Mahati opened the window.

"227..." Rutu looked up and asked, "What are you doing that for? The wind's chilly!"

"I'm throwing this idiotic thing outside so I never have to look at it again." Mahati flung the lehenga and its matching earrings out of the window in a bundle and watched as it hit the turf below.

Rutu looked like he wanted to say a lot of uncomplimentary things. He did not say any, however, and just invited her to sit beside him and watch England's batting.

Mahati knew her bad mood had no good reason, but it was not easy to snap out of it.

"Where is Rakesh?" she asked irritably. "Sleeping in, is he, with no consideration to all the work that needs to be done?"

"He's down at the buffet lounge, talking to the caterer," said Rutu. "But he did sleep in, woke up an hour ago."

"Just what I expected."

"Come on, now, Mac, you've overworked yourself," Rutu said patiently. "Don't think of work, the others will manage."

"It's not a question of overworking," said Mahati. "It's just that all this is so pointless. Who cares which angle the light falls on the stage from? Who cares which colour the flowers are? Who cares if the function ends an hour later than planned? Do you care?"

"I don't," confessed Rutu. "But both my parents and Aditi's do, and Aditi cares a bit herself."

"Then they should be the one managing it all," snapped Mahati. "Look at this halfwit, pitching ball after ball on leg," she said, waving at the laptop screen in disgust. "What are the slips for?"

Rutu did not crack a smile. Somewhere, Mahati knew she was behaving entirely stupidly, and stupid was something she had a perennial problem with. So she was grateful that Rutu just nodded.

"He's inexperienced," he said, "and look, there goes Pat to have a word with him."'

"Pat Cummins gets on my nerves," said Mahati. "He's too good to be true."

"You're not making much sense right now, Mac," said Rutu, this time giving her a small smile. "What put you in this mood?" 

"My mum scolded me for yelling at that infuriating Mr Jha," said Mahati, getting angry at the very memory. "What does she think, we're angels? We're never allowed to yell?"

"Parents tend to make that mistake," said Rutu. "I think that's because to them, we are angels."

"Wow, talk about unrealistic expectations. I mean, for parents with kids like you and Aditi, the expectations may not be that unrealistic, but for most..."

"Do you mean to say you think Aditi and I are angels?" asked Rutu, perplexed.

"Yes," said Mahati pointedly. "Two angels marrying each other. Fitting."

Rutu did not say anything more on the subject, and turned back to the Ashes.

After an hour of watching Australia's toothless bowling, Mahati sighed.

"I want to get out of here, Rutu," she said. "This building is so suffocating."

Rutu turned to look straight at her. 

"What is it that you're not telling me?" he asked in a quiet tone.

"W-what?"

"You're not reacting to a thing as simple as overworking," he said. "There's something more."

"No, there's nothing more," said Mahati, her heart starting to pound unevenly all of a sudden.

"Mac, I know you," said Rutu, nervous yet determined. "It makes me feel worthless that you don't want to confide in me even when something is so wrong."

Mahati studied Rutu's face.

"It's this awful heartsickness," she said. "Loving someone who doesn't love me back."

Rutu looked stunned.

"You never mentioned you even like someone," he said, his tone accusing. "Let alone love."

"What's the point of telling people? It's not like it's heading anywhere."

"You could have mentioned..."

"No, I could not," said Mahati. "I try to ignore it most of the time."

"Oh," said Rutu. "But you're sure he doesn't love you back?"

"Yes, pretty sure," said Mahati.

"He told you directly? He refused you?" asked Rutu. From his expression, he was racking his brais to think of who the guy could possibly be.

"He didn't need to," said Mahati. "You see, he's getting married to my best friend in two hours."