CHAPTER 8 #2
Maria smiled widely and clapped her hands together. “Then I’ll make sure you do, Ma’am.”
***************
Mishti stood before her open wardrobe, scanning through rows of neatly folded Kurtis and sarees. None of them felt right tonight. They were too traditional, too plain. She didn’t want to feel out of place at the party.
She rummaged through one of the side compartments and pulled out a set wrapped carefully in soft tissue paper.
It was a birthday gift from Divya…a rich black designer saree, elegant yet modern.
The blouse was sleeveless, its back designed with delicate satin doris.
Each knot held the blouse together, and without untying them, it couldn’t come off.
“You should wear this, Ma’am,” Maria whispered. “You always look beautiful, but as you said, tonight, you should look like his wife. Mrs Karan Wadhwa. And this is exactly what you need to wear for the party.”
The way she said it made Mishti’s cheeks warm. “But do you think… it’ll be too much?”
Maria smiled. “Not for you. It’s modest and graceful; besides, it’ll also remind Sir what a fool he is for ignoring you.”
That made Mishti blush harder. “Maria!” she exclaimed, half-scolding.
But Maria only grinned. “Now go, freshen up. I’ll set this out for you.”
When Mishti emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, her hair damp and cascading down her shoulders, Maria was waiting with the outfit pressed and ready. She helped Mishti into it, tying the blouse Doris at the back carefully.
“These knots are tricky,” Maria murmured as she tied the final one. “You might need help to untie them. Otherwise, you’ll spend all night struggling.”
Mishti laughed softly. “Don’t worry, I’ll manage.”
Once dressed, Mishti stood before the mirror, and for a long moment, she didn’t recognise herself.
Maria clasped simple pearl earrings onto her ears and arranged her hair to one side so that the elegant design of her blouse was visible.
“Perfect,” she said softly. “You look… breathtaking. Tonight, when Sir sees you, he won’t be able to look away.”
That thought sent a rush of warmth to Mishti’s cheeks. Deep inside, she, too, had a fragile hope that maybe Karan would notice her tonight.
When the driver came to announce that the car was ready, Maria handed her a light shawl for the chilly Lonavala air. “Enjoy the evening, Ma’am.”
Mishti nodded, and taking a final look in the mirror, she left the mansion.
***************
Lonavala – Farm House
Rajat’s farmhouse in Lonavala was nothing less than a sprawling estate lit with fairy lights that shimmered across the manicured lawns. The party was at the outdoor patio where fairy lights hung between the trees, and the open bar was serving cocktails.
Tonight was all about expensive whiskey, good food, and the comfort of long friendships. The man of the night, Rajat, stood near the bar counter, wearing a dark green shirt, his usual charm on full display. He was taking birthday calls on and off, smiling wider than usual.
Karan, dressed in a crisp black shirt, sleeves rolled, collar open, looking every bit the alpha businessman his reputation promised, noticed his friend and made his way to him the moment he was done.
“Who’s making you blush like a teenager?” he asked, leaning against the counter beside him.
Rajat chuckled. “A close friend.”
Karan arched a brow. “I thought I was your close friend.”
“You are, but I can have one more, can’t I?” Rajat teased back, smirking.
Karan’s jaw tightened slightly, wondering who that was, but before he could think, Rajat’s phone buzzed again. He picked it up, walked a few steps away, and murmured something in a softer tone. His grin was unmistakable even from a distance.
Kanika, who was lounging on the opposite couch in her satin dress, appeared at Karan’s side with another glass of wine.
“He’s been smiling like that too much recently,” she said, tilting her head toward Rajat. “I think there’s someone special this time.”
Karan took the drink but didn’t respond. “Rajat has never been private about his life,” he said flatly. “Except this time.”
Kanika gave a little laugh, swirling the wine in her glass. “You sound jealous, Karan.”
He turned his head sharply toward her. “If I were jealous, Kanika, you’d know it.”
That shut her up.
A few of their other friends joined them with another round of laughter, talking about old college days, mischief, deals that failed spectacularly and others that made them millionaires. The music had picked up when Rajat finally came back, still smiling, his phone tucked in his pocket.
“Don’t ask,” he said when Karan looked at him pointedly.
“I wasn’t going to,” Karan said dryly, but Rajat knew that expression too well…that faintly irritated look Karan gave when something didn’t add up.
“Well, in that case,” Rajat said, clinking his glass against Karan’s, “to good friends, their bad decisions, and one night of forgetting everything else.”
Karan smirked faintly, lifting his own glass. “You first.”
The men drank, and more friends joined in with friendly banter, some teasing Rajat about the farmhouses he bought just to throw lavish parties, others joking that Karan was only there to keep him from bankrupting himself.
None of them noticed the headlights pulling up the long driveway and a sleek car gliding to a stop inside the farmhouse gates.
Mishti stepped out of the car, looking extremely out of place. Parties like these weren’t new to her. But tonight, she was walking into a party where she wasn’t expected. By her husband. She took a steadying breath and walked to the patio.
The moment she stepped there, heads turned. The rich black designer saree she wore glimmered with every graceful step she took, and the delicate doris of her blouse tied at her back, teasingly revealed just enough to make hearts skip, and one heart, in particular, to stop.
Karan froze midway, his glass of scotch halfway to his lips, when his gaze found her.
Everything else faded. All he saw was his wife.
She had a pretty face, but tonight, she looked…
breathtaking. The glow on her face, the confidence in her eyes, the softness of her smile, it all tugged something deep inside him.
Kanika, standing beside him, noticed the way his eyes lingered, and her smile faltered instantly. “What is she doing here?” she muttered, unable to hide the bitterness.
Karan didn’t reply. He was too lost watching Mishti walk across the garden, demanding attention without trying.
Rajat spotted her too, and his face instantly lit up as he strode toward her.
“Welcome, Mrs Mishti Wadhwa,” he teased.
“Happy Birthday, Rajat.” She smiled warmly and handed him a small, neatly wrapped box.
Rajat looked at the gift, then at her, and grinned. “Gift? Wow! Thanks a lot. But you didn’t have to give me a separate gift. Karan already gave me one!”
For a fleeting second, she caught Karan’s eyes on her. She knew he was watching her ever since she had set foot here.
“If he can forget to take his wife to this party,” she said lightly, “I thought he might forget gifting you on her behalf as well. So, I got a separate one.”
Rajat broke into hearty laughter.
“Well said, Mishti! You have a good sense of humour. Thank you for coming,” he said, eyes twinkling with happiness, before whispering only for her ears. “And now I’m confident that only your quiet courage can match Karan’s temper.”
He turned briefly toward Karan, who simply took another sip of his drink, trying to drown the sudden heat that climbed his neck. He hadn’t expected Mishti to come here without his knowledge. Without his permission.
“Come, let me introduce you to some of our common friends,” Rajat said warmly, gesturing her forward.
As Mishti followed him, she could feel Karan’s gaze burning into her back. Rajat introduced her to other men who had known Karan and him for years. Their banter was harmless, teasing, but their eyes lingered a little longer on her than Karan would’ve liked.
She smiled politely at them, though, not expecting everyone to be so welcoming.
From across the lawn, Karan’s hold around the glass tightened. The sight of her mingling effortlessly with everyone, laughing softly, made his blood simmer.
“You are really beautiful, Bhabhi,” one of the men said with a grin spreading across his face. “No wonder Karan didn’t bring you along here with him. He wanted to keep you hidden on purpose.”
Karan’s glass was halfway to his lips when he saw one of his friends lean closer to Mishti, gesturing animatedly at something she’d said. She laughed softly, not flirtatiously. Still, something hot and territorial stirred in his chest.
Before she could respond to the next question, Karan was suddenly beside her. He didn’t say a word, just slipped his hand to the small of her back, right where the satin doris of her blouse met her skin, and pulled her closer.
Mishti froze for a heartbeat, feeling the warmth of his palm, the unspoken claim in that single gesture.
The men exchanged amused looks. Even Rajat raised an eyebrow, barely hiding his smirk.
“Easy there, Karan,” one of them teased. “We were only saying hello.”
“You’ve said enough,” Karan replied. “She doesn’t like crowds.”
Mishti turned slightly toward him, her brows lifting in mild surprise. She had no problem with crowds. He was only making it up, and she knew. Even Karan glanced down at her soft eyes for a second longer than necessary.
The others noticed it and Rajat, only chuckled. “Looks like someone’s possessive. Didn’t know marriage could do that to you, Karan.”
“Shut up.” Karan snapped.
“Then what’s this?” another friend piped in, gesturing at his hand still resting against Mishti’s back, firmly. “You look ready to punch anyone who even breathes near her.”
He withdrew his hand slowly, although his eyes never left Mishti’s face. “That’s because I don’t like sharing what’s mine.”
That warning was not for his friends but Mishti. It was a clear statement that he wanted her to stay away from them. But Mishti was on some other tangent. Her heart stuttered in her chest because for the first time, he’d called her his.
Rajat, ever the observer, clapped his hands lightly.
“Alright, alright, let’s not scare my guests,” he joked, trying to diffuse the tension.
“Mishti, you are my special guest tonight, and you haven’t even tried the dessert yet.
Karan, stop glowering and join us before your wife runs away from all this attention. ”
Karan’s gaze lingered on her a moment before he shook his head again in denial. “Mishti doesn’t like to have sweets at night. And enough of overcrowding, I need a moment with her. Alone.”
Mishti was again surprised that he decided everything for her. Who said she didn’t like to have sweets at night? He was only making it up again. Yet, she didn’t say a word and waited till his friends teased them a bit more before leaving them alone.