CHAPTER 41
Next Day - Evening
Mishti hurried back into the room to change.
The mehndi function was over, and her hands were still stained with fresh Mehndi design.
Unlike the bride and the other guests, she had finished her mehndi much earlier.
Being the bride’s sister-in-law meant she had no real liberty to sit back and enjoy the celebrations.
There was too much to manage, too many details that needed attention.
Even though VK and Rajat had repeatedly told her to relax and let others take charge, she simply could not. Now that Avni knew she was her sister-in-law, Mishti had thrown herself completely into ensuring that everything went flawlessly.
Despite taking it off so soon, her mehndi had darkened beautifully. So much so that several women had teased her about it, laughing and chasing her with knowing smiles. Brushing off their playful remarks, Mishti had finally escaped and hurried back to her room.
She had nearly two hours before the sangeet began. The evening celebrations would start late and stretch well past midnight.
She reached her room and swiped the keycard, stepping inside.
The room was empty. Karan was nowhere in sight.
The sherwani he was supposed to wear tonight was placed neatly on the bed.
Avni, in her usual dramatic fashion, had chosen this sherwani for Karan tonight and had gone as far as threatening that she would refuse to get married if he didn’t wear it.
Her drama was exaggerated, as always, but it worked.
Karan couldn’t possibly ignore a threat like that, so he gave in and decided to wear it.
Assuming he was out, she walked straight toward the bathroom. The moment she pushed the door open, she froze. Inside the shower cubicle, beneath the cascading rain shower, stood Karan.
Bare.
“Oh God,” she almost jolted as she instantly turned around.
Karan noticed her too.
“I’m sorry—sorry,” she blurted out immediately in a rushed and flustered voice. “I didn’t know you were in here. I—I didn’t see anything. I swear. The glass is so foggy…I didn’t see anything. Believe me.”
She swallowed hard, realising she was rambling.
By the time she stopped, the sound of the water had ceased, and Karan stepped out of the shower.
She should have run. She knew that. The moment she had seen him, she should have walked right out. Yet somehow, her feet refused to move.
What she had seen stayed etched in her mind.
Karan, inside the shower cubicle, drenched, water streaming down his body.
Steam clung to the glass, the space thick with heat.
His one arm rested against the glass wall, his head slightly bowed as the rain shower poured over him, tracing the hard lines of his frame before disappearing lower.
It was an image she knew she would never forget. No matter how hard she tried. The moment that chain of thoughts snapped, she felt him right behind her.
“What were you saying?” he asked, his voice turning husky with every syllable.
She bit her lip, still refusing to turn around, keeping her gaze fixed anywhere but on him. “I said… I didn’t see anything,” she repeated.
The very next second, Karan caught hold of her arms and turned her around.
Mishti immediately shut her eyes, tight. Too tight. How was she supposed to open them when he wasn’t even wearing anything?
Yet when he simply turned her around and remained silent, she hesitantly opened one eye. And only after she sensed something wrapped around his lower body did she open the other eye too, releasing the breath she had been holding.
A Turkish towel was tied low around his waist. His body was still wet, water droplets sliding down his skin. His hair dripped, darkened by the shower, and Mishti stood there utterly lost, not knowing what to say next.
Karan watched her closely, studying every reaction, clearly enjoying her discomfort.
She swallowed hard before speaking again, not because it was true, but because she needed him to believe it. “I…I didn’t see anything.”
Karan tilted his head just slightly, already reading her lie. “You sure?”
No. She wasn’t sure at all. Because she had seen far more than she had expected to. Seeing the grin on his face and realising he was teasing her on purpose, she shrugged his hand off, turned around abruptly, and hurried back into the room, completely flustered.
When Karan finally came out sometime later, still draped in the towel around his waist, Mishti immediately rushed toward the bathroom, carefully avoiding his eyes. But Karan stepped in front of her, blocking her path.
She tried moving to the other side. He blocked her again. Left with no option, she finally looked up at him. But he was not looking at her face. His gaze had dropped lower, fixed on her hands. That was when she realised what he was staring at. Her mehndi-clad palms.
She instinctively hid her hands behind her back.
Karan looked at her sharply and said, “Let me see.”
She frowned. “Why?” she asked. “When you were supposed to care about my mehndi during our marriage, you were too busy ignoring me. Why this sudden interest now?”
Karan clenched his jaw. Without replying, he reached for her hands, trying to pull them forward. Mishti resisted at first, but the desperation in him made her give in. A soft smile slowly appeared on his lips, the moment his eyes fell on the intricate mehndi on her palms.
And watching him admire the delicate patterns made her smile, too. There was a strange satisfaction in seeing the man who had been consumed by revenge slowly returning to a more human version of himself. The kind that noticed, admired, felt.
When he continued staring for too long, she mocked lightly, “I haven’t written your initials anywhere. No point searching so hard. Avni is the bride, not me.”
She was about to walk past him again into the bathroom to freshen up when he suddenly gripped her arm and pulled her back, and turned her palm over once more.
This time, his thumb brushed gently over the Venus mount of her palm, tracing a part of the design where his initial was cleverly woven into a complex pattern shaped like a heart. The letter K was hidden so smartly inside that heart that almost nobody could notice.
The second he spotted it, Mishti went still.
She had lied to him that she had not written his initial.
But he caught her. Before she could pull her hand away, Karan stepped closer and caught her wrist, not roughly, but enough to stop her.
He drew her toward him until barely inches separated them, close enough for her to feel his breath, close enough for her pulse to beat hard.
“Keep pretending you don’t want me,” he said calmly.
Then he lifted his hand, his finger pointing lightly over her hear, which was racing beneath the fabric.
He didn’t press, just let her feel his touch before he continued, “The truth is… your heart never learned how to stay away from me, Mishti. No matter how hard you try.”
Her throat tightened. She had no clever comeback ready for that. Unable to face him any longer, she pulled her hand free, turned away, and hurried straight into the bathroom, leaving him standing there with that knowing look on his face.
***************
The sangeet was a celebration that had forgotten how to end. The music throbbed through the courtyard, and laughter rose in waves as performances blended into one another.
Karan did not dance. He stayed back like a silent observer with VK, with a drink untouched in his hand. But his eyes followed Mishti everywhere.
She danced with Avni, no rehearsals, no perfect steps. Just two women laughing, spinning, clapping, missing beats and finding them again. Avni pulled Komal and Abhimanyu in at one point, Rajat joining with exaggerated enthusiasm, making everyone laugh harder.
Karan couldn’t look away from his wife tonight, unable to believe this was the woman he had kept at arm’s length for so long. This was the joy he had never let himself be part of.
When their eyes met briefly across the crowd, Mishti did not look away. She smiled at him, just for a second, before Avni dragged her back into the dance. But that single look stayed with him long after the music ended.
**************
Next Day – Haldi
Haldi, the next afternoon, was chaos wrapped in tradition.
The entire theme was yellow. There was laughter louder than the dhol.
After the main ritual was done, Rajat tried to dodge Avni’s haldi-smeared hands and failed spectacularly, ending up chased around the courtyard while everyone cheered.
VK shook his head fondly while Abhimanyu and Karan volunteered for the event.
When Komal smeared haldi playfully on Mishti’s cheeks, she laughed instead of protesting.
Once again, Karan only watched from a distance, a soft smile touching his lips when she caught him looking, and a quiet challenge flickered in her eyes.
She raised her brows at him, not pleased that he stood apart from his own sister’s rituals, watching instead of participating.
Karan felt it instantly. That look of hers had a warning.
Before he could react, Mishti dipped both her palms back into the haldi paste. The yellow clung to her fingers as she turned and walked straight toward him. He knew exactly what she was coming for. He should have moved, but he did not.
She stopped right in front of him, close enough for him to smell the faint trace of her perfume beneath the sharp scent of turmeric. Without hesitation, she reached up and pressed her palms against his cheeks, smearing haldi across his skin with soft strokes.
“There,” she said lightly, her eyes dancing. “A little haldi on Karan Wadhwa’s face isn’t going to ruin his charm.”
A ripple of laughter passed somewhere behind them, but Karan heard nothing beyond her voice. He stayed still as she stepped back with satisfaction on her face.