Chapter 7 OPERATION NEEL BEGINS
DIVYA
This is ridiculous. The thought has been looping in my head ever since Neel dramatically pushed both of us toward the front door like some tiny dictator managing a mission.
I still cannot believe Aditya is actually participating in this madness.
When Neel first waved that ridiculous list in our faces I was convinced Aditya was teasing me. I assumed he would laugh about it, ruffle Neel’s hair, and say something responsible like “maybe when you’re older.”
Instead, the man stood up, grabbed his wallet, and put on his shoes like he had been waiting his entire life for instructions from a seven-year-old.
And now here we are. Walking down the quiet street outside my house.
On an ice cream date.
Because my little brother and his friends apparently believe my marriage requires supervision. A small part of me—an embarrassingly small, traitorous part—actually likes this. I hate admitting that. Because the whole situation is absurd.
Yet walking beside Aditya right now feels strangely… easy.
Behind us, Neel has already abandoned us to our fate. The moment we stepped outside he yelled, “Take pictures for me!” and then sprinted toward the empty lot at the corner where the colony kids are already gathering with a plastic bat.
Aditya chuckled at that.
I rolled my eyes and turned back to lock the door. Now we’re walking slowly down the street.
The evening air is warm but not uncomfortable, the sky fading into that soft purple color that only appears right before the streetlights flicker on. Somewhere nearby someone is frying something spicy and the smell drifts lazily through the air.
Aditya walks beside me with his hands tucked casually in his pockets.
Every few seconds I can feel him glance at me. Not in a way that feels invasive. Just curious. Maybe amused. Like he’s still processing the fact that our lives somehow ended up like this. I clear my throat and break the silence. “You are enjoying this far too much.”
He looks at me, eyebrows lifting slightly. “Enjoying what?”
“Encouraging my brother’s delusional matchmaking project.”
He laughs quietly. “That child is terrifyingly persuasive.”
“That is not an excuse.”
“Maybe I’m just easily influenced.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “You grabbed your wallet before he even finished the sentence.”
Aditya shrugs lightly. “I’m a man who respects organized plans.”
“Organized?” I repeat incredulously.
“He had a list.”
“That was not organization, that was emotional manipulation.”
He laughs again. The sound is warm and unrestrained.
I notice something strange then. I like the way he laughs.
It makes him look younger somehow. Less serious.
Less controlled. And I like that he laughs so easily in my company, or maybe that's how he is with everyone, I don't really know many people in his life.
We keep walking. The ice cream stall is only a few blocks away, but neither of us seems to be in a hurry to get there.
Aditya glances sideways at me. “So,” he says thoughtfully, “the official mission is an ice cream date.”
“Please stop calling it that.”
“That’s literally what it says on the list.”
“You read that list far too carefully.”
“I’m a detail-oriented person.”
“I am beginning to see that,” I huff quietly and look away.
The streetlight ahead flickers on. Our shadows stretch long across the pavement. After a moment he speaks again, his voice softer this time. “Divya.”
I glance at him. “If you’re really so against this,” he says gently, “we don’t have to do it.”
His tone is completely different now. No teasing. No humor. Just quiet sincerity. “If this makes you uncomfortable,” he continues, “I don’t want to force you into something silly just because Neel wrote it down.”
Something about the softness in his expression catches me off guard.
The way he’s looking at me—careful, attentive, like my comfort genuinely matters to him.
For a second I almost do something ridiculous.
Like hug him. Which would be incredibly inappropriate considering we are standing in the middle of the street.
And obviously that he's my arranged husband.
I shake the thought away and look down at the pavement.
“No,” I say quietly. He waits. “I’m okay with it.” I tuck my hands into the pockets of my jeans.
“It’s just…” The words get stuck somewhere in my throat. He doesn’t rush me. Just walks beside me patiently. I take a slow breath. “I’ve never been on dates before.”
The confession comes out quieter than I intended. Aditya’s footsteps falter. He stops walking. I take two more steps before realizing he isn’t beside me anymore. When I turn around he’s standing a few feet behind me staring like I just announced I’ve never seen the sun before.
“You’ve never been on dates?” His voice sounds genuinely shocked.
I suddenly feel very aware of how embarrassing that sounds for a twenty two year old. I shrug awkwardly. “I mean… it’s not like I wasn’t interested.”
I stare very intently at the ground. “Initially I was.”
The evening breeze lifts a few strands of my hair and pushes them across my cheek. “But no one was particularly interested in me, apparently,” I continue with a small laugh that doesn’t feel very convincing.
“And then Papa died.” The words fall quietly between us. “And everything changed.” I force myself to keep talking before the silence becomes too heavy. “I got busy with the shop, and Neel was still very young.” Aditya hasn’t said anything yet. He’s just watching me. Listening.
“I didn’t want to bring random people into his life,” I continue slowly.
“Kids get attached easily.” I swallow. “And I didn’t want him getting used to temporary people.
” My fingers twist nervously together. “So I decided if someone was going to be in my life… they had to be serious about it.” The streetlight hums softly above us.
“I told myself I would wait for someone who walked into my life and said, ‘Okay, we’re doing this properly.’” I shrug lightly.
“Because I didn’t have the energy to go searching for that person.
” The words hang in the air for a moment. Then I finally look up.
Aditya’s expression has changed. The teasing softness is gone. Now there’s something else there. Something gentler. Warmer. His eyes soften in a way that makes my chest feel strangely tight. I realize I like that expression on him. Too much.
“Hey,” he says quietly. He steps a little closer. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad about that.”
My eyes widen. “No, no, you didn't.”
He studies my face carefully. Then a small smile returns to his lips. “I was just surprised.” He hesitates for a moment. Then he says something that completely derails my brain. “You’re so beautiful, it doesn't make sense somehow.”
The words land softly. But the effect is anything but soft. My heart stumbles. My entire body suddenly feels warmer. Aditya straightens slightly then, his expression shifting into exaggerated seriousness. “This is very important information.”
I blink. “What?”
He folds his arms dramatically. “I promise,” he says solemnly, “that I will make you experience the best dates ever.”
My eyes widen again. It seems like I keep doing that around him.
He grins. “Don’t fight it.”
And somehow—every protest I had prepared completely disappears.
We start walking again, though I’m not sure when exactly we begin moving.
One moment we’re standing there in the middle of the street with his ridiculous promise hanging in the air between us, and the next we’re drifting toward the small ice cream parlor at the corner like it was always the destination.
The shop is barely more than a narrow room with a glowing freezer in the front and three metal tables pushed against the wall, but tonight the soft yellow lights inside make it look oddly inviting.
Aditya steps forward and holds the glass door open for me with exaggerated politeness.
“After you,” he says.
I narrow my eyes at him but walk in anyway.
The air inside is cooler, carrying the faint sweet smell of sugar and waffle cones. A fan hums lazily overhead while the boy behind the counter scrolls through his phone with complete disinterest in our arrival.
Aditya leans slightly closer to the freezer glass, studying the rows of brightly colored tubs like this is a serious culinary decision.
“What does someone order on their first date?” he murmurs thoughtfully.
“This is not a first date,” I say quickly.
He glances sideways at me.
“Right,” he says with obvious skepticism. “This is an ice cream mission approved by a seven-year-old committee.”
Despite myself, I laugh. He orders two cones after asking me again and when I couldn't decide he took matters to himself—chocolate for me, something ridiculous with chocolate chips and caramel for himself—and a minute later we’re sitting at the small metal table near the window.
For a few moments we just eat quietly.
It should feel awkward.
Two people who barely knew each other a week ago, now sitting together under buzzing fluorescent lights eating melting ice cream because my brother demanded photographic proof of marital happiness.
Instead, the silence is strangely comfortable.
Aditya rests one elbow on the table, studying me over the edge of his cone.
“So,” he says casually, “tell me something about you that isn’t in Neel’s investigative report.”
I raise an eyebrow.
“You mean the one where he described me as ‘sometimes scary but mostly okay’?”
Aditya grins. “That one.”
I shake my head. “What do you want to know?”
“Anything.”
I take another small bite of ice cream, thinking. For a moment the only sound between us is the slow whirring of the fan overhead.
“I do not like changes,” I say eventually, "despite it being the only constant in our lives." I chuckle. "When papa died, I had just finished my undergrad." The words come out easily, but the weight behind them still sits quietly inside my chest.