06
SHIVANI
The ride back to Rudraksh’s house is quiet.
I stare out the window, lost in thought.
I’ve always lived with just my parents. No big, loving family.
Occasionally, during childhood, I’d visit my dadi’s house—those were the rare moments I felt like a child.
Free. I remember crying every time I had to leave, begging her to keep me.
She never could. I knew she wanted to, but she was too dependent on my father.
She passed away when I was fourteen, and with her, even those tiny scraps of freedom vanished.
After that, silence filled the house. No one ever spoke of her, but I carry the memory of her like a secret blanket—warm and fraying.
Now, I’m stepping into something completely unfamiliar: Rudraksh’s joint family.
I’ve always wanted a real family. I know I technically have one, but to me, family's more than just blood.
It's knowing someone will scold you out of love, stand behind you when you fall, and remind you that you actually… belong.
I want to know his family, not just because I’m going to be a part of it, but because some part of me—no matter how much I try to suppress it—craves that love, that support, that place to belong, and also a very small part of me wants to impress Rudraksh.
I try not to hope for much. He has made it clear there’s no space for love between us.
Still, I can’t help but want to be seen by him—not just as his wife, but as someone who matters.
When we reach the house, Maa takes my hand and gently leads me to the door. She smiles at me—really smiles—and I feel this small flicker of warmth. She seems genuinely happy. Like I am her own daughter.
It’s overwhelming.
Naina chachi rings the bell. I wait, nervous, until the door opens and a tall man, probably in his seventies, stands there with no expression.
He must be Rudraksh's grandfather. He reminds me so much of Rudraksh.
That same cold aura, that same piercing presence.
I brace myself for the cold. But then I notice the thali in his hand.
He asks me to step forward. I glance at Maa, who nods encouragingly.
He does a tilak on my forehead, and I bend to touch his feet, but he stops me.
"You’re the Lakshmi of this house. Your place is not in our feet, beta," he says.
And then—he smiles. A real, warm smile. It stuns me. I’ve never been spoken to with this kind of respect. Ever. He holds out his hand. I place mine in his, and he says, "Right foot first." And just like that, I take my first step into my new home.
My throat tightens. I can’t remember the last time someone made me feel… wanted.
Inside, I see a man walking toward us. He’s tall and fit—not Rudraksh, but someone around his age.
Handsome, too. Suddenly, he drops to one knee and presents a yellow rose.
I blink, confused, and turn to Aditi, who walks over and lightly smacks him on the head.
“You’re scaring her, Aarav bhai,” she says.
Aarav gives her a dramatic glare and then turns to me with a soft smile. "Am I, bhabhi? I just came with an offering of friendship. C'mon, bhabhi, I kneel not in love, but in admiration of friendship.” Aarav mischievously smiles while wiggling the rose in his hand.
I take the rose hesitantly. He grins. "Now that you’ve accepted, I look forward to annoying Bhai together. Trust me, it’s fun. You’ll enjoy it." I don’t know how to respond. I look between Aarav and Aditi; they definitely are siblings.
“God, Aarav bhai, stop auditioning for a daily soap.” Aditi teases him, and then they begin making faces at each other.
Before I can dwell too much, Naina chachi pinches them both.
“Don’t drag her into your mischief.”
“Ow, Maa,” they complain in unison.
“Of course, Bhabhi won’t do anything to bother her patidev, right?” Aditi adds with a teasing smile.
I feel my face heat up and quickly look away, trying to hide the blush. I look around as everyone laughs, and my heart beats faster at the thought that even if this marriage lacks love, I’ve somehow gained something else—a family . And right now, that feels like enough.
“You haven’t said much since you arrived, Shivani. Everything okay?” Dadaji asks me gently.
“I… It’s just very different from what I’m used to,” I answer carefully.
“I know it’s a lot.” Dadaji gently pats my head. “But we’re happy you’re here. You’re part of the family now.” That small gesture nearly brings tears to my eyes. This is so overwhelming.
“Come on, you all must be hungry. Let’s eat,” Maa says cheerfully. I glance around for Rudraksh without even realizing it. Aditi catches on immediately.
“Looking for someone, bhabhi?” She whispers, wiggling her brows.
I look away quickly. “No! I was just… um… looking for the bathroom.”
Aarav rolls his eyes at her as she giggles. “Aditi, stop teasing bhabhi. She’s just gotten here.”
Maa gestures to the table, where the aroma of ghee-laced dal and spiced paneer fills the air. “Come, kids! Shivani, I made your favorite dishes.”
Chachi adds, “We asked your mom. I hope we got it right.”
They didn’t. Because my mother doesn't know and neither cares about my likes and dislikes, but it doesn’t matter. It's not my favorite. But they tried. They asked about me. That alone fills a space I didn't know was empty. The effort . I’ve never had anyone go out of their way for me like this.
From the staircase, I see movement. Rudraksh. He’s watching. I meet his eyes for a second before quickly looking away, heart thudding. Why does he always look at me like that—like he sees more than I want to show?
He walks down and takes a seat beside Dadaji. Everyone falls silent, clearly surprised.
“What?” Rudraksh asks, noticing the shift in atmosphere. "I was hungry. The meeting got delayed."
“Okay, bhai, if you say so,” Aarav says with a smirk.
I turn to Aditi, confused. “Bhai never eats with us,” she whispers. “Unless it’s a big occasion. I think he came for you today.” She winks at me. I am going to have a hard time around her; she's so carefree. I might be as red as a tomato right now. My cheeks flush again.
I try to focus on my plate, the delicious food, the laughter—but my eyes keep drifting to him.
I watch the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles.
The way a curl of his hair rests at the nape of his neck.
He seems… different here. Not the rude, distant Rudraksh I expected.
He’s laughing, talking, and at ease. Our eyes meet again.
He raises an eyebrow, a faint smile curving his lips. My heart skips a beat.
After dinner, as I stand to help, Rudraksh walks over.
He leans down, close enough that his breath brushes my ear.
“After you’re done with everything,” he murmurs, voice low and husky, “come see me.” His voice is soft, but it curls down my spine like smoke.
My hand trembles slightly around the plate I hold.
I nod, barely managing to keep my gaze from locking with him. He walks away, leaving behind a scent of sandalwood and confusion.
What could he possibly want to talk about?
And why does the idea of being alone with him suddenly make my heart race?