Chapter 25
Meera stood by the window, her fingers twisting into each other.
Outside, late afternoon light moved across the Haveli, stone turning from pink to amber. She had watched that change all her life. Today it felt new.
Behind her, her father paced in short steps. Her mother adjusted cushions that needed no adjusting.
Meera had changed three times before settling on deep blue. Her hair fell loose down her back. Silver bangles at her wrists chimed with each small movement.
The knock came exactly on time. The room went silent.
Devendra opened the door.
Abhinav stood at the threshold in a white t-shirt and blue jeans, effortless yet commanding.
His eyes found her immediately.
He waited until Devendra stepped aside before entering.
“Namaste, Uncle.” His hands came together. His attention moved to her mother. “Namaste, Aunty.”
The respect sat quietly in the room.
“I appreciate you allowing me to take Meera out this evening. I’ll bring her back before ten.”
Devendra nodded. “We’ll expect you both then.”
Abhinav smiled warmly, and looked at her again. “Ready?”
She nodded, unable to trust her voice yet. Her mother stepped forward, adjusted her dupatta once, then stepped back with a small smile.
He moved aside, giving her space.
She stepped out, aware of the distance he kept as he matched her pace. Yet close enough that she felt him.
They walked toward the main gate. Eyes followed them. Staff slowed, looked, then turned away the moment his gaze lifted.
At the gate, a two-seater Mercedes waited. He moved ahead and opened the passenger door, one hand firm on the handle.
She hesitated.
As she turned to get in, her hair slipped forward, brushing his arm.
Her bangles chimed as her hand rose to tuck her hair back. Her jhumkis swayed, catching the light of the setting sun.
He drew in a breath.
She looked up and found his eyes at her ear. They moved lower, lingering at the space just beneath it. The focus there pressed against her skin.
He blinked, grounding himself.
The door closed. He walked around and took his seat.
Inside, a different silence waited.
His hands settled on the wheel. She folded hers in her lap, turning toward the window as the Haveli receded.
Jaipur passed through the golden hour. Shadows stretched. Her earrings moved with the motion, catching light in small flashes.
“Do you have a list?”
She turned. “A list.”
“Of questions. Things you want to ask me.” He glanced at her, then back to the road. “I prepared answers. It would be efficient to go through them before we arrive.”
She stared at him. “You prepared answers.”
“I prepared for several versions of this conversation.”
“How many?”
“Four.” His grip adjusted on the wheel. “Five if you cry.”
She blinked at him. He kept his focus ahead. The corner of his mouth lifted.
A laugh escaped her. Soft at first, then brighter.
His shoulders eased.
She studied him for a second. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
“That is not an answer.”
“It is. Just not the one you prefer.”
She turned back to the window, the city passing in blur.
“Tell me something,” his voice entered the silence again.
She looked at him.
“Something I don’t know about you. Not about the Haveli.”
She took a moment. “I wanted to be an archaeologist.”
His eyes moved toward her, attentive. “What changed?”
“The Haveli happened.” A small tilt of her head. “But it’s the same thing. Every wall is a dig site. Every corridor hides a story. I never needed a different excavation. I already had the best one.”
He absorbed that in silence.
“What about you?”
“I wanted to build things.” His tone lowered. “I watched Papa build his business in Dubai from the ground up. I wanted the same. To start with nothing and create something real.”
“And you did.”
“Yes.”
Her attention stayed on him. “You never wanted anything else?”
“I wanted exactly that.” His eyes remained on the road. “I just didn’t know what was missing until recently.”
The words settled between them.
She looked ahead again.
The city moved on.
“Teach me Marwari.”
She blinked. “What?”
“Marwari. Teach me.”
“Why?”
“Because when I was being… myself, you used to mutter under your breath when you walked away. In Marwari.” He glanced at her. “I caught fragments. I want to know what they meant.”
She stared at him.
He shrugged. "That is a completely reasonable request.”
“You want me to translate those… words.”
"I want to know what I was dealing with." A quick look at her. "I think I have a right to know what was being spoken about me in my own Haveli."
“It wasn’t your Haveli then,” she replied immediately. “You were trying to sell it.”
"Which is presumably why you were cursing me."
"I was not cursing you."
"Meera."
She pressed her lips together, her eyes bright.
“You were absolutely cursing me.”
A laugh escaped her again. She turned to the window, trying to contain it, failing.
He watched her, a smile stretching across his face.
The car left the paved road.
Dust lifted under the tires as the path opened ahead. The horizon stretched in gold, wide enough to make everything feel suspended.
Meera leaned forward.
Colour rose into view.
A hot air balloon, vast against the sky, tethered and swaying.
Her breath caught. “We’re going up in that?”
He stopped the car and turned toward her. Amusement lit his face, the look of a man who had been waiting for this moment.
“Yes. Unless you’re afraid of heights.”
She turned to him. “I’m not afraid.”
He held her there for a beat, then stepped out.
She followed him with her eyes as he walked around the car. He opened her door, one hand rested on it, the other extended toward her, palm up.
He had made a decision and was now simply waiting to see if she would make hers. To step into something with him. To cross from where they had been to wherever this was going.
She looked at his hand, then at his face.
Her fingers slipped into his. He closed his hand around hers, a tingle ran up her entire body. She stepped out.
He didn’t step back, though. The space between them barely existed.
She tilted her face up.
His gaze moved over her unabashedly. Her face. Her hair touched by the breeze. Every detail taken in as if he had decided there would be no more distance, no more looking away.
His thumb moved once across the back of her hand.
She felt that everywhere.
With a small tilt of his head, he guided her forward.
A uniformed man worked near the basket. He gave Abhinav a nod and returned to his task.
“Why a balloon?”
He glanced at the sky, then back at her. “I wanted tonight to be… worth remembering.”
Up close, it looked massive. Fabric breathing with the wind. The basket grounded, ropes drawn tight, holding it in place.
They walked toward it.
The field stretched on all sides. Open. Empty.
She slowed. “There’s no one here.”
“No.”
She turned to him. “You booked the entire field.”
“I wanted privacy.”
He said it simply. As if it were nothing. As if arranging an entire field for one evening was just… practical.
Her step faltered. His arm came around her, palm pressing against her back, drawing her close enough to steady her.
Her breath caught, eyes lifted to him, lips parted.
He tried not to smile. Failed.
“You booked the entire field,” she repeated, softer, as if repeating it might make it more reasonable.
He held her gaze, unapologetic. Slightly amused.
Then he stepped back. “Come.”
She followed.
The operator steadied the basket as she climbed in. Wood creaked under her weight. Abhinav stepped in after her, and the basket swayed.
Her hand moved on instinct, catching his arm. She tried to pull back. His hand closed over hers before she could.
Outside, the operator spoke, voice routine, distant.
Abhinav answered without taking his eyes off her.
The ground gave way in a slow release, the earth loosening its hold.
Meera’s hand rose to her mouth in wonder.
Jaipur opened beneath them.
It was beautiful.
The city she had always known unfolded into another form. Pink and amber stretched outward. Streets ran through it like veins. Rooftops formed a vast mosaic. The old walls curved through it all.
The air cooled as they rose. It moved through her hair, brushed her skin, and her other hand too found his arm without thought.
Her eyes moved across the horizon, trying to take it all in. “It’s beautiful.”
His voice came close to her ear. “Yes.”
She turned.
He was watching her.
Not the city.
Her.
His eyes moved across her face, taking in each breath, each trace of wonder, the softness in her expression.
“You’re missing the view,” she murmured.
“No.” His eyes dropped to her lips before returning to her. “I’m not.”
Warmth rushed to her cheeks. She turned away, though she could feel him watching even then.
The balloon rose higher. The sky opened wide above them.
The burner flared.
Heat poured down, lighting his face in gold for a few moments.
She looked at him without meaning to. He seemed unreal. Too close. Too much. She turned away, steadying herself.
“There.” Her hand lifted, pointing. “Anand Mahal.”
From above, it looked smaller than she had ever known it.
She turned back.
He was watching her again.
This time, she did not turn away.
The balloon climbed. The burner fell silent as they reached a steady height. Night gathered along the edges of the sky. The city below held onto its glow.
Movement caught her attention. Small lights, rising from below. Too precise. Too deliberate.
She released him and stepped closer to edge, trying to make sense of what she was seeing.
Drones.
Dozens of them.
They rose, aligned, each light finding its place against the dark sky.
WILL YOU MARRY ME, MEERA?
Five words. Suspended in the air. Visible to the entire city.
Her breath left her.
She turned.
He stood close, watching her. The ease he wore had fallen away. What remained was bare. Raw. A man who had placed everything in front of her without armor.
The wind caught her hair. His hand rose, brushing it back. His fingers lingered at her cheek.
“I had speeches prepared.” His voice stayed low, stripped of authority. “None of them matter now.”
His thumb traced her cheekbone.
“I came here to close a chapter. You… Meera, you opened something I didn’t know existed.”
His other hand came up, framing her face, anchoring her in the moment.
“I don’t want to go back to who I was before this.”
The words carried no hesitation.
“I want to marry you, Meera Chauhan.”
Everything inside her stopped. Breath. Thought. Movement.
His thumbs moved against her skin, grounding her, keeping her present.
“Not because of the rain.” His jaw tightened briefly. “Not because of what anyone expects.”
The emotion in his eyes deepened, unwavering. “Because you are where I want to be.”
He lifted her chin, leaned in and stopped just short of her lips. Close enough that his breath brushed her lips.
He waited.
Her hands rose to his chest, palms pressing against him. His heartbeat raced under her fingers. Her grip tightened. She rose on her toes, closing the distance.
Their lips met.
Soft at first. Careful. A touch that tested and learned.
Her eyes closed.
His hand slipped into her hair, fingers moving through the strands, angling her face.
The kiss deepened.
Her breath hitched.
His lips moved against hers, exploring, learning what drew her closer, what made her answer.
Her fingers tightened against his chest, gripping his t-shirt, holding on while everything inside her rearranged itself.
“Mmmm…”
That sound…
His arm came around her waist, drawing her in until there was no space left, until she fit against him, until nothing else existed beyond this, beyond them.
He eased back just enough for breath, their lips brushing again.
Her breathing came uneven.
So did his.
He returned to her, slower now, each movement deliberate, claiming without words, yet taking only what she offered.
She offered more.
Her grip softened, then tightened again as she leaned into him, responding instinctively, matching him as if she had always known how.
Time blurred. Their first kiss stretched into something that felt both endless and too short.
When he pulled away, it came with reluctance. His forehead rested against hers. Their breaths tangled between them.
His thumb brushed over her lower lip.
“Soft.”
A whisper.
“Sweet.”
His eyes stayed on her mouth.
“Mine.”
Heat rushed through her, sudden and overwhelming. She hid against his chest, pressing her face there, unable to meet his eyes again.
His arms closed around her, fully, his chin resting against her hair.
She stayed there, listening to his heartbeat, feeling its pace match her own.
After a while, she lifted her face. He was already looking at her.
The sky still carried his question.
Her answer came softer than breath.
“Yes.”
Everything in him changed. A smile broke through, wide, joyful, completely unguarded.
It undid her.
He lifted her off her feet, turning with her in that small space. Her hands flew to his neck, holding on. She squealed. His chuckle followed.
The sound rose into the open sky.
She let him spin her. Let the moment take over.
No Haveli. No future. No world waiting below.
Only this.
This man.
This moment.
This yes.