The Three Wishes Before Marriage

She was twenty-eight.

Old enough for relatives to stop asking about her career and start asking about her wedding date.

She had a good job. Not the kind of job that made her rich-rich, but good enough to pay her own bills, buy what she wanted, take care of herself, and not depend on anyone unnecessarily.

Her family was well-off. Respectable. Settled. Loving.

That was the problem.

They were not villains, yet. They were not forcing her cruelly. They were just doing what most parents believed was right.

"Bas ek baar mil lo," her mother would say.

"Pasand na aaye toh mana kar dena."

But they did not understand one thing.

She did not want to meet anyone.

Not right now.

Not like this.

Not because the biodata looked good. Not because someone's salary matched. Not because someone's family background was decent. Not because everyone had decided that twenty-eight meant "settle down."

She was not against marriage.

She was against being pushed into a life she had not chosen yet.

And honestly, she had already tried being polite.

She had spoken to many boys over calls. Some were boring. Some were overconfident. Some wanted a working wife but also expected her to behave like a full-time daughter-in-law. Some spoke as if marriage was not a partnership but a job opening where she had to prove she was adjustable enough.

Those phone calls were a different story.

But in person?

This was only her second proper meeting with a guy.

And today, she was planning to reject the second one too.

Not directly, of course.

Direct rejection created drama.

Her parents would ask why. The boy's family would ask what went wrong. Everyone would turn it into a discussion.

So she had made her own system.

Whenever her parents fixed a meeting, she chose the same café.

Not because it was romantic. Not because it was special. But because she knew that place. She knew the corner table, the waiter, the timing, the exit door, the menu, the safest seat, and the exact amount of drama required to make a man disappear.

That café was not a date spot.

It was her battlefield.

And today, another boy was about to lose.

She reached fifteen minutes early.

That was important.

A soldier never entered the battlefield after the enemy.

She sat at the corner table beside the glass window, placed her handbag on the chair next to her, opened the menu, and looked calm enough to fool anyone.

Inside, she was already planning.

Okay. Second in-person candidate. New biodata. Same old nonsense.

The waiter came toward her with a half-nervous expression.

His name was Sammy.

He was young, probably in his early twenties, and by now, he knew her routine too well.

"Ma'am," he said softly, "today also?"

She slipped a five-hundred-rupee note under the folded menu and gave him a serious look.

"Today also."

Sammy sighed.

"Last time the guy left before ordering."

"That was efficient," she said.

"Ma'am, I'm just saying... maybe today you can try to have a normal conversation first?"

She looked at him as if he had suggested a crime.

"Normal conversation leads to second meetings. Second meetings lead to families talking. Families talking leads to engagement discussions. Engagement discussions lead to lehenga shopping. Do you want that responsibility on your soul?"

Sammy blinked.

"No, ma'am."

"Good. Then cooperate."

Before he could reply, the café door opened.

A man entered.

Formal shirt. Clean shoes. Decent watch. Polite smile. The kind of man parents described as "achha ladka."

He looked around the café, checked his phone once, then saw her.

She lifted her hand slightly.

He walked toward her.

"Hi," he said. "I'm Aditya."

She gave him a polite smile.

"Hi."

He sat down opposite her, careful, well-mannered, slightly nervous.

There was a small silence between them. The usual arranged-meeting silence. Not personal enough to be warm. Not formal enough to be professional.

Aditya smiled.

"Your parents told us a lot about you."

Of course they did. They probably sold me like a premium investment plan.

She smiled back.

"Good things, I hope."

"Very good things. They said you're working, independent, mature..."

"Mature?" she interrupted.

"Yes."

She leaned back.

"That is already false advertising."

Aditya laughed lightly, unsure whether he was supposed to laugh.

"No, I mean... you seem confident."

"I am confident," she said. "That part is true."

Sammy arrived at the table.

"Good evening, ma'am. Cold coffee with extra chocolate?"

She looked up at him.

"Not yet, Sammy. First let me finish the important discussion."

Aditya noticed the waiter's name.

"You come here often?"

"Very often."

"Oh, nice."

She smiled.

"Mostly for meetings like this."

Aditya adjusted slightly in his chair.

"Like this?"

"Marriage interviews."

He gave a small awkward laugh.

"I wouldn't call it an interview."

"I would."

He looked at her carefully.

She folded her hands on the table and leaned forward.

"Actually, let's save time. You seem like a decent person. Your family seems decent. My parents seem very excited. So before we waste your evening and my cold coffee, I'll be direct."

Aditya straightened.

"Okay."

She looked him in the eye.

"I can sign and marry you."

He froze for half a second.

Aditya blinked.

"Sorry?"

"I said I can sign and marry you," she repeated calmly. "But I have three wishes. If you agree with them, we can take this forward."

Aditya stared at her, confused but trying to remain polite.

"Three wishes?"

"Yes."

"Like... conditions?"

She smiled.

"Wishes sound prettier."

He hesitated, then nodded slowly.

"Okay. Tell me."

She held up one finger.

"Wish number one. I am not going to sacrifice my career to become a stay-at-home wife. I want to work after marriage. Properly. Seriously. Not as a hobby. Not until the first baby. Not until your family feels uncomfortable. I want my career to remain mine."

Aditya listened quietly.

For a second, she watched him carefully.

This was the first filter.

Simple on paper.

Difficult in real life.

Many boys failed here. Not loudly, not rudely, but in small sentences.

"Of course you can work, but family comes first."

"After kids, we'll see."

"My mother may need help at home."

"I prefer someone flexible."

"Work is fine, but not too ambitious."

That was usually enough.

One soft conservative sentence, and the meeting was over.

But Aditya did not say any of that.

He nodded.

"That's fair. I don't think anyone should ask you to leave your career."

She looked at him.

Okay. Passed the first one.

A small irritation moved inside her.

Fine. Let's go to level two.

She held up a second finger.

"Wish number two. I want three kids."

Aditya's expression changed.

She continued before he could speak.

"But not three separate pregnancies. That is very inefficient. One of them should be twins."

His hand stopped near the water glass.

She tilted her head.

"I hope you know how to make twins."

Aditya's ears turned slightly red.

"I... I don't think that is exactly in someone's control."

She looked disappointed.

"Oh."

He cleared his throat.

"I mean, biologically..."

"Yes, yes, biologically. But still. Planning matters."

Aditya opened his mouth, then closed it.

She watched him closely.

This was the second filter.

Harder.

Because in this world, everything is expensive now. Schools, hospitals, houses, vacations, clothes, safety, food, tuition, hobbies - even breathing in a decent city felt costly. Most people want one child now. Maybe two, if they felt brave.

Three kids meant money.

Three kids meant responsibility.

Three kids meant the man sitting in front of her could not just say sweet things and dream romantic dreams. He had to have the capacity to build a life.

And no, she did not think that made her a gold digger.

She thought it made her practical.

Every girl had the right to want a capable partner if she was going to build a family with him. A potential father. A stable man. Someone who could sail the boat before inviting her into it.

If you don't like the sea, don't ask me to sit in your boat, man.

Most boys failed here.

Some laughed nervously.

Some said, "Three is too much."

Some said, "In today's economy?"

Some said, "Let's be realistic."

Some suddenly remembered an urgent call.

But Aditya surprised her.

He looked uncomfortable, yes. Hesitant, definitely. But he did not run.

"I mean..." he said slowly, "three kids is a lot. But if both partners really want a big family, then maybe it can be discussed."

She stared at him.

Discussed? Again discussed?

He tried to smile.

"Obviously, finances and health and everything matter. But I don't think wanting kids is wrong."

She blinked.

Oh, so he's that type. Polite. Balanced. Adjustable. Dangerous.

She leaned back.

Fine. Third wish. Nobody survives the third wish.

She held up a third finger.

"Wish number three."

Aditya sat still.

She smiled softly.

"I want half of your property."

Silence.

Even the café music seemed to become slower.

Aditya stared at her.

"Half?"

"Yes."

"Of my property?"

"Yes."

"Before marriage?"

"Preferably before emotions complicate paperwork."

He looked stunned.

There it was.

The word was written all over his face even before he said it.

Gold digger.

She almost smiled.

There it is. Finally,

Aditya placed his glass down carefully.

"That's... a very big thing to say in a first meeting."

"Marriage is also a very big thing to discuss in a first meeting."

"But half my property?"

She nodded.

"Clarity saves time."

He looked at her for a long moment.

His polite smile had disappeared now. His eyes moved from her face to the table, then to the exit, then back to her.

This was where most men broke.

The first wish removed the conservative ones.

The second wish removed the ones who liked the idea of family but not the cost of it.

The third wish removed everyone else.

It was not a wish.

It was a trap.

A beautiful, efficient, marriage-destroying trap.

But Aditya still did not leave.

Instead, he gave a small, hesitant laugh.

"I don't know if you're joking."

She smiled.

"I'm not."

"I mean... property is something families discuss legally. There are laws, agreements..."

She looked at him like he had failed a very basic test.

Legal agreements? This man is still sitting here?

He continued, "Maybe I'm misunderstanding you."

Yes. Please misunderstand faster and leave.

"I just feel," he said carefully, "that financial security matters to you. That's not wrong. But half of someone's property in the first meeting is... intense."

She stared at him.

He is still trying to be decent.

A small irritation rose inside her.

What kind of man agrees to everything? Career, three kids, half property - still sitting? No resistance? No ego? No self-respect?

Then she paused.

Or maybe too much patience.

She did not like that.

Patience was dangerous.

Patience could lead to second meetings.

Second meetings led to family discussions.

No.

Absolutely not.

She stared at him for a moment.

Career. Three kids. Half property.

And he is still sitting here.

For a second, she almost respected his patience.

Almost.

Then she smiled.

Not her polite smile.

Not her fake arranged-meeting smile.

A dangerous one.

"Okay then," she said.

Aditya looked at her carefully.

"Okay?"

"Yes." She folded her hands on the table and leaned back like the matter was settled. "If you're okay with my three wishes, then I'm okay too."

He blinked.

"You mean..."

"I mean, I'm happy to marry you."

Sammy, who was standing near the counter, looked up so fast he almost dropped the tray in his hand.

Aditya looked completely stunned.

"Really?"

"Why not?" she said sweetly. "You agreed to everything. Career, kids, property. What else does a girl need?"

Aditya still looked unsure, but there was relief in his expression now.

Dangerous relief.

Oh no, don't look happy. This is not your success story.

She picked up the menu and opened it slowly.

"Come on. We should celebrate."

"Celebrate?"

"Yes. Our almost-final decision."

She smiled.

"Let's order something."

Then she turned toward the counter and raised her voice slightly.

"Sammy?"

Sammy froze.

He knew that tone.

"Yes, ma'am?"

She smiled at him in a way that was just a little too soft.

"Come here. Help us order. Today is a special day."

Sammy walked toward the table, already regretting his life decisions.

She looked at Aditya and said, "Sammy knows my taste very well."

Then she turned back to Sammy.

"Right, Sammy?"

Sammy glanced at Aditya, then at her.

"Yes, ma'am."

She smiled.

"See? Some men actually pay attention."

Aditya's face changed.

Not fully.

Just enough.

A tiny crack in the polite mask.

She opened the menu but did not look at it. Instead, she looked at Sammy.

"What do you think I should have today?"

Sammy swallowed.

"Ma'am, cold coffee with extra chocolate?"

She tilted her head, smiling.

"You remember what I like?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Cute."

Aditya's fingers tightened around the glass.

She noticed.

Finally,

She looked back at Aditya.

"Sammy has a very good memory. Better than most men."

Aditya forced a smile.

"That's nice."

She turned to Sammy again.

"And what should Aditya have?"

Sammy looked trapped.

"Maybe... sandwich?"

She laughed lightly.

"No, no. He seems like a simple man. Give him something simple."

Aditya sat very still.

She leaned closer to Sammy and said, "And for dessert?"

Sammy stared at the menu.

"Brownie?"

She smiled.

"You know me too well."

That was it.

Aditya pushed his chair back.

The sound was sharp.

Sammy immediately stepped back.

For a second, no one spoke.

Then Aditya laughed.

But it was not the awkward laugh from earlier.

It was colder.

"So this is what this is?"

She looked at him with innocent surprise.

"What?"

He picked up his phone from the table.

"You wasted my time."

She smiled politely.

"I thought we were celebrating."

"No," he said, voice hardening. "You thought you were being smart."

The smile on her face stayed.

But something in the air shifted.

A couple at the next table glanced toward them.

Aditya looked at her from head to toe, and his face filled with disgust.

"You know what? You are exactly the kind of girl people warn men about."

Sammy stood frozen beside the table.

She said nothing.

Aditya continued, louder now.

"Half my property? Three kids? Career first? And then flirting with a waiter in front of me? Are you stupid?"

Her fingers rested calmly on the edge of the menu.

Inside, she went still.

Not hurt.

Still.

He leaned slightly toward her.

"No one is going to marry you with this attitude. Just look at you. You don't even know what you want. You're pathetic."

The word landed between them.

Pathetic.

Then another one came.

"Stupid bitch."

Sammy's face tightened.

"Sir-"

She raised one hand slightly, stopping him.

Aditya let out a bitter laugh.

"Honestly, good luck. You'll need it."

Then he turned and walked out.

The glass door opened.

Then closed.

This time, the sound felt louder.

For a few seconds, the café became quiet.

Sammy looked at her carefully.

"Ma'am..."

She did not respond.

Her eyes were still on the glass door.

Outside, Aditya walked toward his car, angry, shaking his head, probably already preparing the version of the story where he was the victim and she was the villain.

She could imagine the call he would make.

"She's crazy."

"She asked for half of my property."

"She flirted with the waiter."

"Thank God I escaped."

She almost laughed.

Good. Escape properly.

Sammy spoke softly.

"Are you okay?"

She looked down at the menu.

For the first time that evening, her smile disappeared.

Not because she was sad.

Because she was thinking.

Stupid bitch.

The word circled once inside her head.

Then something in her settled.

She looked toward the door and smiled faintly.

A bitch?

Fine.

A bitch was not weak.

A bitch was someone who showed her teeth when needed.

A bitch was someone who protected what belonged to her.

And if someday she had children, she would protect them with everything she had.

Her career.

Her money.

Her name.

Her choices.

Her life.

No one would make her small and then call it marriage.

No one would ask her to enter a boat with no direction, no strength, and no safety, and then shame her for asking whether it could survive the sea.

If wanting security made her selfish, fine.

If wanting a career made her difficult, fine.

If wanting a man who could actually build a life made her demanding, fine.

If protecting her future children before they even existed made her a bitch, then she would wear the word like armour.

She leaned back in her chair.

The smile returned.

Slowly.

Proudly.

Sammy was still watching her.

"Ma'am?"

She looked at him.

"What?"

"I said, are you okay?"

She picked up the menu again.

"I'm perfect."

He did not look convinced.

"That was harsh."

She shrugged.

"Harsh men leave faster."

Sammy stared at her.

Then she smiled fully.

"Gone."

He exhaled.

"Ma'am, this was too much."

She looked at him proudly.

"No, Sammy. This was strategy."

"Strategy?"

"Yes. Three wishes first. Final weapon later."

"Final weapon?"

She pointed at him.

"You."

Sammy looked offended.

"Ma'am, please don't use me as a weapon."

She smiled.

"You're a paid weapon."

He sighed.

"Your parents will ask what happened."

She waved her hand casually.

"I'll say our thinking didn't match."

Sammy gave her a look.

"It definitely didn't."

She smiled wider.

"One more biodata successfully destroyed."

This was her second in-person meeting.

Second successful rejection.

Of course, there had been calls before this. Many calls. Many small battles. Many boys removed from the list before they could even reach the café.

But in person?

She was getting better.

Sammy asked, "Cold coffee with extra chocolate?"

She nodded.

"Yes. Extra chocolate. I deserve a victory drink."

He turned to leave.

"And Sammy?"

"Yes, ma'am?"

She grinned.

"Next time, we will try for under ten minutes."

Sammy shook his head and walked away.

She looked out through the glass window, smiling to herself.

No guilt.

No regret.

No emotional drama.

Just one simple scorecard in her head:

Marriage: zero. Me: two.

Then she corrected herself.

Actually... I'm getting better and better at this game.

How did you guys like the first chapter?

Did the opening hit right? And what did you think of Anaya, our main lead?

Is she strong, sharp, and clear about what she wants from life - and what she absolutely does not want?

Or is all that confidence just a carefully built facade, hiding something much deeper underneath?