The Wrong Meeting (Short Story)
Title: The Wrong Meeting
The soft melodies of dhol and laughter filled the air as Aditi Khanna twirled around in her pastel lehenga, enjoying every moment of her best friend’s wedding in Dehradun. The cool mountain breeze carried the fragrance of jasmine and mehendi, and for once, Aditi felt completely free from deadlines, responsibilities, and the endless “rishta” talks at home.
She was laughing with her friends when her phone buzzed.
Papa calling.
She sighed, stepping away from the crowd and answering, “Yes, Papa?”
Her father’s warm but firm voice came from the other end.
“Aditi, I’ve found a boy for you. A nice family, well-settled. Coincidentally, he’s also in Dehradun for some work. You can meet him tomorrow before coming back.”
“What? Papa! I just came for the wedding, not to—”
“No arguments, beta. You’ll just meet him once. I’ve already arranged the meeting at a restaurant near your hotel. I’m sending his photo to your WhatsApp.”
“Papa!” she tried again, but the call had already disconnected.
She stared at the screen, the image of a man’s photo flashing in her inbox. She didn’t even open it. “I’m not going to see him anyway,” she muttered, tossing her phone aside.
The next day, after the wedding festivities ended, Aditi sat by the window of her hotel room, sipping chai and staring at the misty hills. “Just one meeting,” she mumbled. “I’ll make sure he himself refuses the proposal.”
She had a plan.
That evening, she walked into the cozy restaurant her father had mentioned. It was softly lit, with music playing in the background. A few couples were dining quietly, and the aroma of roasted coffee and baked bread filled the air.
Her eyes fell on a man sitting alone at a corner table. He wore a crisp dark blue suit, neatly combed hair, and a silver watch that glinted under the light. He was checking his phone — calm, confident, clearly waiting for someone.
“That must be him,” she thought. “Looks too serious. Perfect. I’ll irritate him so much he’ll run away himself.”
Taking a deep breath, she walked toward him.
“Mr. Sharma?” she asked hesitantly.
The man looked up, slightly surprised. His voice was deep and polite.
“Miss Khanna?”
She nodded, smiling lightly. “Yes.”
They shook hands. His handshake was firm, professional — almost business-like.
“Please, have a seat,” he said courteously.
Aditi sat down, mentally ready to play her part.
“So…” she began casually, “you must be one of those workaholic types, right? Office even on weekends?”
He smiled faintly. “Something like that.”
Aditi smirked. “Hmm. My father thinks I should marry a ‘well-settled man,’ but honestly, I don’t think I can live with someone who’s married to his laptop.”
He raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
Aditi continued, “Also, just to be clear, I hate cooking, I wake up late, and I can’t stand men who think too highly of themselves. I’m sure that already makes me your worst match.”
There was a pause. He seemed to be studying her — not with annoyance, but with quiet amusement.
“So,” she leaned forward with a mischievous smile, “what do you think, Mr. Sharma? Are we a match?”
He placed his napkin down, his expression still calm but unreadable. Then he said,
“I’m sorry, Miss Khanna. I think… we can’t make this deal happen.”
Aditi blinked. “Wait— what did you just say?”
He smiled slightly.
“That we can’t make this deal happen.”
Her jaw dropped.
“Deal? Did you just call it a deal?”
He looked genuinely confused now. “Aren’t you from Khanna Industries? We were supposed to discuss the marketing proposal for your father’s company.”
Aditi’s eyes widened.
“Marketing… proposal?”
The man nodded. “Yes. I’m Aditya Mehra, regional head of Mehra & Co. I think you’re at the wrong table, Miss Khanna.”
Aditi froze. Her mind replayed every sarcastic thing she had said in the last ten minutes. “Oh. My. God.”
Her face turned crimson. “I’m so sorry! I thought you were— oh no— my father— the marriage meeting— oh God!”
Aditya chuckled softly, clearly enjoying her embarrassment. “Well, that explains your… very honest introduction.”
She buried her face in her hands. “This is so embarrassing.”
He leaned back, his voice teasing now.
“Actually, I must say, Miss Khanna, you’ve made the most entertaining first impression I’ve ever had in a business meeting.”
She looked up, half mortified, half amused. “You’re never letting me forget this, are you?”
He smiled. “Not a chance.”
And as Aditi hurriedly gathered her things to leave, Aditya watched her go — a small smile tugging at his lips.
Maybe fate had just introduced him to someone far more interesting than a business client.
Part 2: The Real Groom
Aditi couldn’t sleep that night.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw his amused face — that confident smirk when he’d said,
“We can’t make this deal happen.”
She groaned into her pillow.
“Great job, Aditi. You just roasted a businessman thinking he was your future husband. Bravo.”
By morning, she decided to laugh it off and move on. The wedding was over, her bag was packed, and her bus back home was scheduled for the night.
But her phone buzzed again.
Papa.
“Aditi, did you meet the boy yesterday?”
Her heart skipped. “Uh… yes, Papa. I met someone.”
“Good. What did you think of him?”
“I think…” she sighed dramatically, “he definitely won’t say yes.”
“That’s odd,” her father said, sounding confused. “Because he already called this morning and said he’s interested.”
Aditi sat up. “What?! Interested?!”
“Yes! He said he met you yesterday evening, found you… interesting. His family wants to meet ours soon. I told him we’ll discuss once you’re back.”
Aditi blinked. “Papa, are you sure it’s the same person?”
“Of course! Aditya Mehra. He’s the one.”
She dropped the phone.
Aditya Mehra.
The man from last night.
The man she insulted.
The man she thought was just a business executive.
“NO WAY.”
That evening, as her bus rolled through the winding Dehradun roads, Aditi couldn’t stop replaying every word of their conversation.
All her sarcastic jabs. Her rude tone. Her fake arrogance.
And now he’d said yes?
“What kind of man says yes after that?” she muttered, staring out at the blur of headlights and mountains.
Part 3: The Unexpected Meeting
Two weeks later, her father told her to get ready — Aditya and his parents were coming for tea.
Aditi nervously stood in the living room, her dupatta slipping off her shoulder as she fidgeted with the tray of snacks. Her heart pounded when she heard her father say,
“Aditi, come meet Mr. and Mrs. Mehra — and their son, Aditya.”
She turned — and there he was.
The same calm expression. The same teasing smile. The same dark suit.
Her breath caught.
He greeted her politely.
“Hello again, Miss Khanna.”
Her mother looked confused. “You two have met before?”
Aditya smiled lightly. “Yes. In Dehradun.”
Then he looked at Aditi and added in a low, playful tone,
“We had a very… memorable first meeting.”
Aditi’s cheeks burned crimson.
During tea, Aditya was his usual composed self — speaking respectfully, laughing at her father’s jokes, answering every question with ease. He was the ideal guest.
Except when he occasionally looked at Aditi, that glint of amusement returned — reminding her that he remembered everything.
Finally, after his parents went with hers to see the garden, he turned to her and said softly,
“You still think we can’t make this deal happen?”
She glared. “You deliberately didn’t tell me who you were.”
He shrugged. “I was curious. Wanted to see how you’d react if you met me without the label of ‘prospective groom.’”
“You tricked me,” she muttered.
He smiled. “You tested me first.”
Aditi crossed her arms. “So, you said yes… just to take revenge?”
He leaned forward slightly, his tone gentler now.
“No. I said yes because I liked your honesty. Most people try to impress — you didn’t. You said everything you felt, even if it was brutally real.”
She blinked, caught off guard. “You liked that?”
He nodded. “I don’t need perfection. I need real.”
For the first time, Aditi didn’t have a sarcastic reply. Her heart fluttered — an unfamiliar warmth spreading inside.
He stood up to leave, pausing for a moment at the door.
“Next time, Miss Khanna, maybe we’ll discuss something other than deals.”
Her lips curved into a reluctant smile.
“Only if you stop calling me Miss Khanna.”
He turned back, eyes soft but mischievous.
“Then it’s a deal… Aditi.”
Part 4: The Beginning of Something Real
Days passed. Their families began planning things slowly. Aditi and Aditya started talking — first awkwardly, then easily.
Their conversations moved from polite questions to deep talks — about dreams, childhood, failures, favorite books, fears.
Aditi discovered that behind his calm exterior was a man who carried silent responsibility — who had built everything from scratch.
And Aditya discovered that behind her carefree nature was a girl who valued honesty, freedom, and self-respect above all else.
One evening, as they walked along the riverside after dinner, Aditya said softly,
“You know, when I saw you that day in the restaurant, walking toward me — I knew you were going to change something in my life. I just didn’t know how much.”
Aditi smiled, her eyes reflecting the golden sunset.
“And when you said ‘this deal won’t happen,’ I swore I’d never see you again.”
He laughed. “And yet, here we are.”
She chuckled. “Guess some deals are meant to happen — just not the way we plan.”
He looked at her, eyes gentle.
“Then shall we seal this one properly?”
Aditi looked up, amused. “Seal? How?”
He extended his hand, half teasing, half serious.
“By shaking hands on our first real agreement.”
She smiled, placing her hand in his.
“Deal, Mr. Mehra.”
“It’s Aditya.”
“Fine… Deal, Aditya.”
The wrong meeting had just become the right beginning.
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