Chapter 47
Aditi's Perspective
The scorching May sun beat down on Delhi, and the humid air clung to my skin as I walked home from my last class. Despite the intense weather, I couldn't shake off the excitement bubbling inside me. Tonight was special. Kabir and I had spent the last four years in a long-distance relationship, but now, after completing his degree at IIT Bombay and landing a job at Google in Delhi, he was back.
And tonight, we were celebrating the housewarming of his new home. It was going to be more than just a family dinner—it was a proper celebration. Kabir's entire extended family, our family, friends, and neighbors were all invited. But for me, the real joy wasn't about the party itself—it was about being in the same city again, about the future that lay ahead of us.
When I walked into the house, I was greeted by the cool air and the scent of fresh jasmine, which filled the living room. My mom wasn't in the kitchen as I expected her to be; instead, she was standing in front of her wardrobe, holding two sarees up, lost in thought.
"Beta, you're home!" she exclaimed, glancing over her shoulder at me, clearly relieved. "I was just thinking... which saree should I wear tonight?" She held out two options, a deep blue silk one with gold zari work and a soft peach georgette one with delicate embroidery.
I smiled at the sight. My mom, with all her elegance, never missed a chance to dress up for a family occasion. I walked over, examining both sarees. "Hmm," I mused, pretending to consider it carefully. "I think the blue one—it's perfect for the occasion. And it looks stunning on you."
Mom beamed, clearly pleased with my choice. "Blue it is then! Tonight is important, after all. It's Mehra's party, and we must look our best."
I nodded, feeling a flutter of nerves mixed with excitement. Kabir's family knew me well by now, but tonight would be the first time in a long time that we'd all gather in the same room. And now, with Kabir and me having been in a long-term relationship, it felt... different. Significant.
"I'm sure everyone's going to be dressed up to the nines," I said, watching as Mom carefully laid the blue saree on the bed. She was already mentally planning her accessories, I could tell. "You're going to look perfect, Ma."
She smiled and gave me a playful wink. "And what about you? You've thought about what you're wearing?"
I grinned, knowing my mom too well. She was fishing for an excuse to help me pick my outfit. "I've got a couple of ideas," I replied, leaning against the doorframe. "But I'll let you give the final nod of approval."
Her eyes twinkled, and I knew she wouldn't pass up the opportunity.
With that settled, I left her to get ready and made my way upstairs. As I walked past Anaya's room, I could hear her familiar giggles. I knocked gently and poked my head in.
"Anaya?" I said, stepping inside.
My nine-year-old sister was sprawled across her bed, surrounded by a mess of colored pens, notebooks, and her favorite stuffed toys. She looked up with a wide grin when she saw me, dropping her pencil and bounding toward me.
"Didi! Guess what? I'm making a card for Kabir Bhaiya's new house!" she exclaimed excitedly. Anaya, with her infectious energy, was a bundle of joy as always. "I can't wait to see Arjun tonight. We're going to play after dinner, and I bet I'll beat him at Mario Kart."
I chuckled, ruffling her hair. "That sounds like fun. But before that, do you remember a few years ago, you asked me to find you a jiju who brings you chocolates?"
Her eyes widened in excitement. "Yes! Did you find him?"
I smiled, enjoying the little game I was playing with her. "I think I might have. You'll meet him soon."
"Who is it? Do I know him?" she asked eagerly.
"You'll find out soon enough," I teased, enjoying her growing curiosity. "Just be patient."
Anaya pouted for a moment but then switched gears, as she often did. "What should I wear tonight? I want to look my best."
I laughed, walking over to her closet to help her choose. Anaya and Arjun were best friends, and I knew she'd want to look perfect, even if she wouldn't admit it. They were in the same class at school, and despite how close they were, Arjun wasn't "bro-zoned" in Anaya's world—he was her partner-in-crime.
"How about this?" I held up a bright yellow dress with embroidered flowers along the hem. "You always look great in yellow, and it's perfect for a celebration."
She studied the dress for a moment and then nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! I love it. I want to look amazing tonight."
I smiled, watching her carefully lay out the dress on her bed. "Just make sure you're ready on time, okay? We don't want to be late."
Anaya nodded, her attention already drifting back to her drawings, humming softly to herself. I left her room and made my way to my own, the excitement for the evening growing with each passing moment.
As I stood in front of my closet, I ran my fingers over the fabric of a simple but elegant maroon kurta. It felt perfect for the occasion—classy but comfortable. Tonight wasn't just any ordinary party. For me, it marked a turning point. Kabir and I were no longer long-distance. We were finally in the same city, finally able to move forward together.
The thought made my heart race with anticipation. The housewarming tonight wasn't just a party—it was the start of something much bigger.
I flipped through the sarees in my wardrobe, my fingers grazing the soft, flowing fabrics. Each one had a different story, a different memory. But tonight was special. This wasn't just a family dinner—it was the dinner. Meeting Kabir's family with everything out in the open.
I pulled out a saree, draping it against myself in front of the mirror, admiring how it fell in soft waves. It felt right, but I wasn't sure. My mind raced, imagining how the evening would go, wondering if Kabir's parents would like me. It was silly, of course—they had always been kind during our brief meetings, but tonight felt different. What if they changed their minds now that they knew?
Just then, my phone buzzed on the bed, and I smiled, instantly recognizing the name flashing on the screen. Kabir.
"Hello, love," I answered, feeling the warmth in my voice as soon as I said the words.
"Hi, Frosty," he responded in that familiar, teasing tone. I could practically see the grin on his face, the same one he always had when he called me by that nickname. It never failed to make me smile.
"What are you going to wear tonight, my Frosty?" he asked, and I couldn't help but laugh softly. Kabir always had this habit of wanting to know every detail, even the smallest things.
"Be patient, Mr. Mehra," I teased, smiling to myself as I glanced back at the sarees spread out before me.
He chuckled, and I could almost picture him leaning back, relaxed and amused. "Well, it doesn't matter what you wear because I know you're going to end up taking my breath away."
I rolled my eyes, a blush creeping up my cheeks even though I'd heard his flirty lines a million times before. "You're impossible," I muttered, though my smile betrayed me.
"And," he continued, his voice dipping slightly, "I hope we can sneak away for a bit during the party."
I raised an eyebrow, intrigued but amused. "Oh really? And why would you want to sneak away when you're supposed to be hosting?"
"Well," his voice dropped into a playful, lower tone, "I have to show my wife her room, don't I?"
I froze for a moment, my heart skipping a beat as I caught sight of my reflection, the saree draped across my shoulder. Hearing him call me "wife" always sent butterflies fluttering through my stomach. Even after all these years, it was a thrill I couldn't quite explain.
"Kabir..." I whispered, the word barely leaving my lips. My heart was doing somersaults, and I couldn't stop the smile that spread across my face.
But as the warmth settled in, a familiar worry crept in again. "What if your parents don't like the idea of us dating?" I asked, my voice softer now. "What if they don't like me?"
Even though I'd met them briefly before, the thought of them knowing about us—officially—was daunting. Tonight wasn't just any dinner. It was the dinner where everything would come out in the open, and that carried its own weight.
"Frosty," Kabir said, his voice calm and reassuring, "calm down. My parents have known about my feelings for you for a long time now. They already love you." I could hear the smile in his voice, his confidence unwavering. "Tonight, it's just your parents' turn."
I could almost hear the smirk on his lips, and it brought a sense of comfort. Kabir always had this way of making everything feel like it would be okay, no matter how much I overthought it.
"Well," I responded, feeling lighter, "I hope you make a good impression tonight, Mr. Mehra."
"I'll try my best," he said, his tone mock-serious, making me chuckle. "But I'm not too worried—I've got you with me."
I smiled, feeling the familiar warmth of his words wrap around me like a comforting blanket. "I guess I should get back to deciding what to wear. Can't have you sneaking off with me if I'm not looking my best."
Kabir's laugh was deep and warm, filling my chest with a sense of calm. "Whatever you wear, you'll look perfect. See you in the evening?"
"See you," I replied, still smiling as I hung up.
I stood there for a moment, my phone still in hand, the echoes of our conversation playing in my mind. The nerves were still there, but they felt softer now, replaced by a sense of anticipation. Kabir had a way of making everything seem less daunting, as though, with him by my side, there was nothing to fear.
Turning back to the mirror, I picked up one of the sarees, holding it up to myself again. This will do just fine.