Chapter 36
Meera woke to trunks dragging across the floor and aunties arguing at full volume.
Wedding chaos had begun.
Her body protested the moment she pushed herself upright. Every muscle ached. Shoulders tight from hours against cold stone. Knees stiff from being pulled close while she waited, though she could not name what for.
She remained seated, drawing in a slow breath. Her eyes moved to the framed photograph of Kul Devi. Her hands came together in gratitude.
“Thank you, Maa,” she whispered.
For bringing him back. For keeping her safe. For answering a prayer she had not even known she was making while sitting beside that underground spring, hollowed by heartbreak, fear and grief.
Her throat tightened.
Because the goddess had not just returned Abhinav. She had returned him shaken. That memory would stay with Meera for a very long time.
She bathed and stepped out.
The living room had turned into a battlefield.
Gauri’s younger sister, Kamla Maasi stood near the south wall, locked in an argument with a neighbour over trunk placement.
“You can’t keep it there. It blocks the kitchen.”
“The south wall belongs to the bride’s rituals. It has always been that way.”
“Not when that same wall is the only way to the bathroom.” Kamla Maasi placed both hands on her hips. “Do you expect half the guests to climb over Mithun’s trunk to use the toilet?”
One aunty burst into loud laughter. Another looked offended on behalf of the luggage. A third entered with bedsheets and joined in without knowing the issue.
Meera slipped past them toward the kitchen.
A plate appeared in front of her before she could ask. Hot puris. Sabzi. Halwa. Apple slices arranged with care that felt almost excessive.
Gauri came to her as she ate. Her hand rested against Meera’s head. “Did you sleep well?”
Meera swallowed first. “I slept.”
Technically true. Exhaustion had pulled her under after hours of emotional collapse.
Gauri accepted the answer and moved on because another crisis rose in the kitchen.
“This much saffron will ruin the kheer.”
“It is wedding kheer. It must taste rich.”
“It should not taste medicinal.”
“You fear flavour.”
“I fear bankruptcy. Have you seen saffron prices?”
The argument escalated with alarming speed.
Meera stared at her plate and almost laughed.
The afternoon passed in fragments after that.
Aunties disappeared for midday naps. Kamla Maasi left for the market with three cousins. Gauri went to her room, promising an hour of rest, which meant twenty minutes.
Meera sat on the edge of her bed, her phone in her hand. Her thumb rested over Abhinav’s name.
The ache came sharp enough to pull at her breath.
She wanted to hear him. To know if he had slept. To apologise again, though the apology felt painfully small for what she had put him through.
Her thumb moved to the keypad. Stopped. What would she even write?
I am sorry?
Pathetic.
I missed you?
After emotionally detonating the Haveli for hours?
She locked the phone and dropped it onto the mattress. Five seconds passed before she picked it up again.
Her thumb hovered over the keys. A letter appeared. Deleted. Another word. Deleted.
Her breath turned uneven. She watched the blinking cursor until a battery warning appeared at the top. Five percent.
She ignored it. The screen dimmed. Her thumb remained over the keypad, useless, her heart caught between wanting him and not knowing how to reach him after yesterday.
By the time the sun began to set, the screen went black.
Battery dead. Message unsent. Which felt, honestly, extremely consistent with the emotional state of her life.
◆◆◆
Evening settled slowly across Anand Mahal.
Relatives drifted toward the main dining hall inside the Haveli, leaving Meera’s home quiet for the first time since morning.
Open trunks covered half the floor.
Meera sat beside one, folding dupattas. Gauri sorted blouse pieces into neat piles nearby. Devendra studied the guest list, his glasses slipping low on his nose.
“You missed the Sharma family here,” Gauri pointed out.
Devendra frowned at the paper. “No, I didn’t.”
“You did.”
“There are three Sharmas already.”
“There are never only three Sharmas at a Rajasthani wedding.”
Meera almost smiled. Almost. She reached for another dupatta just as the front door opened. Her fingers froze.
Abhinav stood at the entrance.
The room fell into a sudden halt.
Sarita stepped in behind him. Two servants followed with steel trays from the Haveli kitchen. Naina appeared last and collapsed dramatically across the sofa with the exhaustion of a woman personally attacked by wedding logistics.
“Water,” she declared to the ceiling. “If I die before this wedding, tell people I fought bravely.”
Gauri blinked. “Thakurain Sa… you all should have told us you were coming.”
Sarita smiled. “And miss everyone’s expressions?”
Devendra rose. “Thakur Sa…”
Abhinav moved toward him without hesitation and bent to touch his feet.
Devendra’s hand came to his head. “You honour us.”
“The honour is mine.”
He turned to Gauri and repeated the gesture.
“You brought dinner?” she asked, caught off guard.
“I was missing my wife,” Abhinav replied calmly. “Apparently I am banned from meeting her alone before the wedding.”
The room fell into catastrophic silence.
Devendra cleared his throat so abruptly he choked on air. Sarita laughed outright.
Naina pointed at her brother from the sofa. “Tyrant behaviour. Absolute tyrant behaviour.”
Meera’s face turned the colour of her bridal lehenga.
Abhinav looked at her then, fully.
Her attention dropped to the bandage around his hand. She inhaled, the breath felt painful.
Naina dragged herself upright with visible suffering. “Right. Everybody move toward dinner before Bhai starts staring at Bhabhi as if oxygen has finally returned to Earth.”
“Naina,” Sarita cut in through laughter.
“What?” Naina gestured toward him. “Yesterday this man challenged God to combat.”
Gauri shook her head with a smile. Devendra escaped toward the dining area with impressive speed.
The room emptied around them.
Abhinav crossed to her. His arms went around her waist, pulling her close. Warm. Solid. Relieved.
Meera leaned into him. Her arms wrapped around his waist. Her forehead pressed against his chest, fingers clutching his shirt.
The tightness inside her chest loosened. Only now did breathing feel possible again.
His grip tightened.
“How are you?” His voice carried a softness meant only for her.
Meera shifted slightly in his arms. Her gaze fell on his injured hand where it rested against her back.
She took it carefully between both of hers. Her fingers brushed the bandage with a softness that hurt more than any touch. “How are you?”
His eyes stayed on her.
“Better.” A faint smile touched his mouth. “Doctor promised it would heal cleanly.”
Her fingers tightened around his hand because he sounded normal. Too normal. As if yesterday had not ripped through both of them.
His thumb brushed her wrist. “Still thinking too much?”
Before she could answer, Naina’s voice cut through the room. “If romance is over, starving people would also appreciate food.”
Abhinav shut his eyes for a second. Meera bit the inside of her cheek. Dinner unfolded slowly after that.
He sat beside her, close enough for his shoulder to brush hers every few minutes. He filled her plate before touching his own. Dal first. Baati next. Churma placed to the side because he remembered she preferred it last.
Halfway through the meal, he turned toward Devendra. “After the wedding, Uncle, we should plan a vacation.”
Devendra looked up. “A vacation?”
“Kerala has excellent houseboats. Or the mountains, if Aunty prefers cooler weather.”
Devendra’s spoon stopped midway. “Thakur Sa, that is generous, but there is no need to include us in your plans.”
Abhinav frowned. “Include you?”
The firmness in his voice pulled the entire table into silence.
“You are Meera’s parents. That makes you mine too.”
Devendra stared at him.
This was the Thakur of Anand Mahal. The man whose family Chauhans had served for generations. Now he sat here folding them into his life as naturally as breathing.
Gauri lowered her eyes. Tears rose too fast. Every mother wished for her daughter to be loved after marriage. Respected. Protected. Valued.
But this… this felt deeper. A devotion that rearranged a man completely around one person.
Naina stopped chewing midway and looked at her brother as if reassessing every irritating thing he had done since birth.
Pride shone across Sarita’s face.
Meera stared at her plate. Her vision blurred. Yesterday she had accused him of destroying her home. Tonight he built one around her family without being asked.
Her heart could not bear it.
At that moment, his hand found hers under the table. Warm fingers slipped between her own and stayed.
Her pulse stumbled violently. She kept her eyes on the plate.
His thumb brushed slowly across her palm.
Meera focused on eating with terrifying concentration because holding his hand had suddenly made swallowing impossible.
Across the table, Naina noticed. Of course she did. Her eyes dropped once toward their hands, then rose to Meera’s face with an expression so dramatic it deserved background music.
Meera looked down so fast her neck almost hurt.
Naina bit back a laugh.
Conversation moved around them after that. Warm. Familiar. Yet inside Meera, nothing settled fully. The knot… just wouldn’t loosen.
When dinner ended, Abhinav stood first. His hand slipped from hers. The loss of warmth felt immediate.
He exchanged a few words with Devendra and Gauri before turning to her.
His fingers brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Sleep well.”
Meera nodded because trusting her voice felt dangerous.
His thumb grazed her cheek before he turned and walked out with Sarita and Naina.
The quarters felt different after they left. Emptier. Meera remained near the doorway long after he disappeared.
Sleep would not come easy tonight.