Chapter Forty-Two: Return to Bangladesh
(Ria's POV)
The airplane hummed beneath us, a steady reminder that we were leaving Aldridge behind for the whirlwind that awaited in Bangladesh. My heart thumped, excitement and nerves tangled in a messy knot.
"Threads," Miles whispered, brushing my fingers lightly with his thumb, "you're going to be amazing. Don't stress."
"I… I hope so," I murmured, staring out the window at the clouds below. "It's a lot. Flights, family, traditions… and all those aunts."
Miles chuckled. "Don't worry. I've got your back. Always."
I leaned against his shoulder, letting the warmth of him calm me. Somehow, the thought of facing my family, the ceremony, and the chaos ahead felt a little more manageable knowing he was there.
Landing in Dhaka was like stepping into another world. The heat, the bustling streets, the smells of home — incense, spices, and something uniquely Dhaka — wrapped around me instantly. Sofia squealed beside us, bouncing in excitement. "Threads! We're back! I can help decorate everything!"
I laughed, hugging her tightly. "Slow down, Sofia! You're going to knock over half the flowers."
Maya and Emma were already buzzing with excitement, camera phones out and notebooks in hand, documenting every moment. Lia, cool as ever, guided Leo through the luggage maze while whispering reminders about schedules and cultural customs.
At the house, the aunts were in full-on ceremonial mode, debating colors, flower arrangements, and menus as if the fate of the universe depended on it.
Miles, calm and collected, navigated the chaos like a pro. He whispered updates to me as we walked through the rooms, holding my hand tightly. "Threads… they're planning for the pre-wedding rituals. Don't worry. I'll make sure you survive unscathed."
I laughed nervously. "Unscathed? Miles… you realize you're marrying me, right? This might be impossible."
He smirked, leaning down to brush a quick kiss against my temple. "Not impossible. I've got this… and you."
The days were a blur of ceremonies, family gatherings, and endless planning. Miles stood beside me through it all, patient and protective. When my mother lectured me about tradition, he held my hand under the table, grounding me. When my father questioned him about future plans, Miles answered with confidence, never losing composure.
Sofia was a whirlwind of energy, running between Miles and me like a tiny general directing troop movements. "Apu Zaria! You need more flowers! And cupcakes! And… oh! Can Miles dance with me?"
Miles scooped her up with ease, spinning her around. "Only if you promise to save me a dance too, Princess."
I laughed, watching the scene, heart full. Despite the chaos, the nerves, the expectations — I had him. And he had me.
There were quiet moments, too, when the world felt like it had narrowed to just the two of us. Miles would brush my hair behind my ear, whispering, "Threads, you're incredible. Calm down. You're mine. Always."
I would lean into him, resting my forehead against his chest, breathing in the scent of him — a mixture of cologne, warmth, and safety. "I can't believe this is real," I whispered.
"It's very real," he murmured, kissing the top of my head. "And it's only just beginning."
The night before the main wedding ceremony, the family gathered for a small pre-ritual dinner. Everyone was buzzing with excitement, Sofia chattering endlessly about how she was going to help "make everything perfect," aunts offering unsolicited advice, and Maya and Emma filming every moment.
Miles leaned down to me during dinner, lips brushing my ear. "Threads… are you ready for tomorrow?"
I shivered at his words, excitement and nerves mixing. "I… I think so. But I'm scared."
"Good," he whispered. "Because I'll be right there, every second. And no one touches you. No one."
I felt my chest tighten, heart pounding with anticipation, panic, and a little thrill. Miles' possessive energy was comforting, protective… and irresistible.
The chapter ends with them sitting together on a balcony after the hectic pre-wedding rituals, city lights twinkling below, holding hands tightly, laughing softly, and stealing quiet kisses — a calm before the storm of the wedding day.