48. HALFWAY HOME
The Sharma house buzzed with excitement long before evening arrived.
Warm golden drapes flowed down the staircase railings, fairy lights wrapped around pillars like glowing vines. Fresh white lilies and soft-pink roses were placed everywhere-on tables, at doorways, on the corners of the stage.
The stage itself was decorated beautifully- A pastel floral arch, A soft shimmer backdrop, And a chandelier hanging just above, scattering warm light like falling stars.
The entire house smelled of flowers and freshly lit candles.
Guests moved around with laughter, instructions, and excitement.
It looked like a dream unfolding in motion.
Aadhya's room was quieter-a sweet escape from the chaos.
Her engagement lehenga lay beautifully spread on the bed-blush pink, minimal work, delicate shimmer.
Aadhya was inside the bathroom, changing.
Aarvi sat on the couch near her dressing table, waiting with the jewelry and makeup arranged neatly.
Suddenly-
Aarvi glanced at it once.
Ignored.
It buzzed again.
This time longer.
Aarvi bit her lip, hesitated.
It might be urgent, she thought.
So she picked the phone, just to check the notification.
And her brows knitted instantly.
Volkov?
She tapped it.
The message screen opened.
Why aren't you picking my call?
Aarvi blinked.
Another one:
At least reply, Aadhya. This is not funny.
Then another:
If this is a prank, I hate it. I'm getting tense.
It's okay if you don't want to talk,
but at least reply.
Aarvi's stomach tightened.
Someone sounds genuinely panicked...
She was about to scroll up when-
Aarvi jerked slightly, startled.
Aadhya stood there, clutching the phone like it was a lifeline she might drop.
Her face pale.
Eyes wide.
Aarvi blinked at her.
"I-I... someone was messaging you continuously, so I thought it might be-"
"It's okay," Aadhya cut her off quickly, voice shaky.
Too quick. Too defensive. Too... scared.
Aadhya immediately pressed the power button.
Phone switched off.
Aarvi stared at her.
"Um... you should at least reply. The person seemed stressed-"
"I'll talk to him later," Aadhya said, forcing a weak smile.
"I'm... getting late."
Aarvi didn't push.
She nodded quietly.
But she couldn't ignore the uneasy feeling growing in her chest.
After a moment, she tried casually,
"By the way... who's Volkov? Sounds foreign?"
Aadhya's throat bobbed.
"He-he's my friend."
"Volkov?" Aarvi repeated.
"Yeah," Aadhya whispered, carefully keeping her expression neutral.
"He's Ru... Russian."
Aarvi raised an eyebrow.
Russian?
Aadhya inhaled and rushed on,
"I went to Russia for studies. And... I became friends with him there."
"Oh!" Aarvi nodded, finally understanding the surface-level explanation.
Aadhya exhaled silently, like she had survived something heavy.
Aarvi stood up and smiled.
"Come, sit. We need to start your makeup."
Aadhya sat in front of the mirror, trying to steady her hands.
Aarvi stood behind her and gently began fixing her hair.
Aadhya's eyes flicked to the switched-off phone lying on the table.
Her jaw tightened.
Her heart wasn't in the room.
But Aarvi didn't know that.
Not yet.
The banquet hall glowed gold, fairy lights cascading from the ceiling like frozen fireworks. Soft shehnai music drifted across the room, guests laughing, cameras flashing-but in the middle of it all, Aadhya looked like she didn't belong to the celebration she was supposed to enjoy.
Her smile was there... but thin. Brittle. The kind that wavered every time she blinked.
Aarvi noticed first. She always did.
Aarvi's chest tightened. Of course something is off. Aadhya's father had pushed this engagement too fast. And Aadhya's mind was clearly somewhere else-probably back in Russia, back with everything she had left behind.
And then-
In a charcoal three-piece suit, hair pushed back neatly, jaw set but eyes searching the room as if he was looking for someone.
His gaze collided with Aarvi's.
Her breath hitched. His stiffened. The entire world squeezed into a painful few seconds-until he blinked and looked away, jaw tightening.
Aadhya's fiance slipped the ring onto her finger, the guests clapping, cheering, showering flowers. Aadhya smiled... but her eyes didn't.
Aarvi saw the way her hand trembled.
Aarvi whispered, "She's not happy."
Ansh replied under his breath, hesitating "She herself made this decision."
And standing on the opposite end of the stage, Vivan was staring at Aadhya too-but not with interest. With recognition. He saw the same thing Aarvi saw.
His hand curled into a fist.
As the rituals ended, relatives swarmed the couple. Then the flood of requests began:
"Aarvi beta, ek photo Vivan ke saath! You two look so good!"
"Haan haan, they are the second youngest couple here they should surely made memories!"
Aarvi froze.
Vivan stiffened.
Her heart jumped to her throat; his jaw ticked. They both reached for excuses at the same time-
"I have to go-"
"Actually I'm busy-"
But no, the aunties wouldn't let go.
In seconds, they were pushed to the photo booth, standing side by side under soft golden lights. The camera flashed, and-
Suddenly it seemed like, They didn't even know how to stand next to each other.
Their hands brushed accidentally.
Aarvi flinched.
Vivan inhaled sharply.
They didn't look at each other-just ahead, like two strangers forced into a picture that didn't belong to them.
"Come closer, beta!" an aunty insisted, pushing Aarvi a step toward him.
Aarvi's cheeks burned.
Vivan clenched his jaw but stepped slightly closer too-gentle, hesitant, like he didn't want to scare her.
Their shoulders touched.
Aarvi went rigid.
Vivan noticed and instantly shifted half an inch away, giving her space without making it obvious. A small gesture no one else saw-but Aarvi did.
Her throat tightened.
The camera clicked. And clicked again.
Aarvi stepped back quickly, adjusting her saree even though nothing was out of place.
"Thanks," she murmured to the photographer, avoiding Vivan completely.
Vivan swallowed, voice low. "You okay?"
Aarvi didn't look at him. "I'm fine."
But her voice cracked on the last word.
Vivan exhaled, frustration flickering across his face-not at her, but at the situation. At the distance. At the fact he caused it.
The night outside was quiet, the highway stretching endlessly on both sides. Inside the car, silence sat heavy between them. Not angry... not cold... just weighted, like both of them were carrying the entire engagement ceremony on their backs.
Aarvi kept staring out of the window, watching the blurred lights pass. Her earrings still glimmered, but her face looked drained. The awkward photos... Aadhya's unhappy smile... Vivan standing too close... everything had left her feeling unsteady.
Vivan kept his eyes fixed on the road. His knuckles were pale on the steering wheel. He hadn't spoken a word since they left. He wanted to. Multiple times. But every sentence felt like it would disturb her even more.
They'd both refused dinner at the venue, unable to take any more social pressure. People had insisted they stay the night-
But the company had already suffered very much loss.
So here they were.
Driving back at 11 p.m.
Halfway home.
Suddenly-
The car jerked.
Once.
Twice.
Then sputtered.
"Not now," Vivan muttered under his breath.
He pulled the car to the side as it finally came to a coughing stop. A horrible grinding sound echoed from the engine.
Aarvi's eyes widened. "What happened?"
"Stay inside," Vivan said gently. "I'll check."
He stepped out into the cold night air. Aarvi watched him through the windshield-he bent down, lifted the hood...
A burst of steam shot up.
"Great," he exhaled sharply, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. "The radiator's overheated. Coolant leaked."
He checked under the car.
A long glittering trail of liquid stretched across the road.
Aarvi stepped out despite his protest. "Is it bad?"
"Yeah," he said, voice tight. "We can't drive it like this. If I start it again, it'll ruin the engine."
Aarvi looked around. Empty road. No passing cars. Wind biting.
"And we're... halfway," she murmured.
"Exactly."
He checked his phone. "Plus it's 11:07. Workshops are closed. Even towing trucks will take hours to reach this stretch."
She shivered lightly.
He noticed immediately. His brows pulled together-not irritated, just... worried.
Quietly, he shrugged off his blazer.
But instead of placing it around her shoulders like a hero in a movie,
he held it out between them, expression unreadable.
Aarvi stared at the blazer... then at him.
"Wear this," he said simply.
She swallowed. "I-I'm fine. Really."
His eyes narrowed-not angry, just done with her stubbornness.
"Aarvi," he sighed, tone calm but firm, "you're standing in winter air wearing a saree. Stop arguing and wear it."
She shook her head again, cheeks heating from both cold and the way his voice wrapped around her name.
He huffed-soft, almost amused-then said,
"Don't be stubborn. If you catch a cold, I'm not giving you a single day off from work. I mean it."
She blinked at him.
The audacity.
The nerve.
Her eyes widened in disbelief as she snatched the blazer from his hand.
"Unbelievable," she muttered under her breath as she slipped it on.
It swallowed her slightly, the warmth immediately seeping into her arms.
Vivan just stood there, lips tugging into the faintest smile-the kind he tried (and failed) to hide.
He shook his head lightly. And said again. "We'll have to stay somewhere nearby," he said. "There was a hotel 10 minutes before. We can walk till there or try to get a cab."
"No cabs will come here at this hour," she whispered.
He nodded.
Decision made.
"We'll go to the hotel."
Aarvi nodded back, wrapping her dupatta closer.
The building was decent, warmly lit, quiet. A proper business hotel-not shady, not crowded.
Inside, the receptionist looked sleepy but professional.
Vivan placed his ID. Aarvi stood beside him, adjusting her dupatta.
"One room?" the receptionist confirmed.
Vivan nodded without hesitation - because they were married.
But Aarvi still felt heat rush to her cheeks. Not because of the room... but because of the day, the tension, the suddenness.
They checked in.
Vivan unlocked the door of their room. Aarvi entered first.
The room was elegant - a king-sized bed, warm lights, a balcony overlooking the quiet highway.
Aarvi blinked twice.
Vivan exhaled once.
Silence.
Aarvi cleared her throat.
"They didn't have twin beds?"
Vivan dropped his keys on the side table, deadpan.
"Apparently everyone in this city is happily married except us."
Aarvi rolled her eyes and placed her bag on the nearby table, avoiding the bed like it was a crime scene.
Vivan didn't comment further. He simply grabbed his nightwear and disappeared into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.
Aarvi let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding.
When the sound of running water stopped, he stepped out - hair damp, T-shirt clinging slightly to his shoulders. He looked... casual. Relaxed.
Something she wasn't used to seeing.
Aarvi immediately grabbed her own clothes and went into the bathroom, closing the door with a little too much force.
She changed into something comfortable - loose cotton T-shirt, soft pajama pants.
When she stepped out, Vivan was sitting on the bed, legs stretched out, phone against his ear.
His voice softened.
"I'm serious, Yuvan... don't tell them now. They're asleep."
Aarvi paused, hearing the tenderness in his tone.
"Yeah, just tell Mom tomorrow morning. I don't want her to worry for no reason."
A beat.
"And yeah- no, we're fine. The car broke down midway. We'll be home by tomorrow afternoon."
He listened for another second before nodding.
"Okay. Thanks."
He hung up.
Aarvi walked closer. "You didn't call your parents?"
Vivan shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck.
"They worry easily. It's late. I didn't want to wake them."
She nodded slowly.
"That's... thoughtful."
Vivan's eyes flicked up to hers, unreadable.
For a second - just a second - the air softened between them.
Then he cleared his throat and looked away. He went to bed and sat against the headboard.
Aarvi also gently slid under the blanket, easing into the soft mattress.
Her body finally relaxed after the long, draining day.
For a moment, she stared quietly at Vivan.
He was scrolling through his phone - the soft glow lighting up his face. He looked calm.
It wasn't the first time they were sharing a bed.
But it was the first time after she had confronted him.
Something felt different now - heavier, quieter, uncertain.
Aarvi let out a slow, long breath... and turned her back to him, pulling the blanket up to her shoulder.
She closed her eyes, trying to shut out the strange warmth blooming in her chest.
Within minutes, exhaustion tugged her into sleep - her breathing soft and even.
Vivan paused his scrolling.
His eyes drifted to her.
The gentle rise and fall of her shoulders.
The loose strands of her hair spilling across the pillow.
Her hand softly curled under the blanket, like she was holding onto something in her dreams.
His jaw tightened... then softened.
He turned off his phone quietly and shifted down onto the bed - careful, so careful, not to disturb her.
But his gaze lingered on her back for a moment longer than it should have.
Then he closed his eyes.
The room dimmed into silence.
Morning sunlight spilled softly into the hotel room, brushing over Aarvi's face as she stirred awake. Her eyes fluttered open to find the space beside her empty. The sheets were still warm - Vivan hadn't been gone long.
She sat up slowly, remembering the strange tension of the previous night... the quiet bed they reluctantly shared after her confrontation, the silence that felt heavier than any argument, and how she eventually turned her back and drifted off.
Aarvi sighed, pushing the thought away.
In the other corner of the room, Vivan was standing near the balcony, already dressed, phone pressed to his ear. His brows were drawn tight, his jaw clenched - he looked stressed, irritated... and somehow restless.
"Yeah, we're leaving in ten minutes," he said to someone on the call, his voice clipped. "Just-handle everything there until I reach."
He hung up and turned toward her. His expression softened for a fraction of a second.
"you're awake?" he asked.
Aarvi nodded silently and slid out of bed.
Neither of them knew that miles away, there's something very big is going on.
The person didn't dare sign their name, of course.
Vivan would murder the person.
Back in the hotel, Aarvi and Vivan packed their things in uncomfortable silence. The air between them felt different - not warm, not cold... just fragile.
"Let's go," Vivan said, lifting both of their bags before she could reach for hers.
She blinked. "I can take mine."
"It's okay," he muttered, not meeting her eyes.
They walked to the elevator, descended to the lobby, and headed toward the main entrance. The hotel staff bowed politely, the morning quiet, everything normal... almost peaceful.
Until-
A sudden chorus of loud shouts exploded from outside.
"Vivan! Vivan sir!"
"Who is the girl with you?"
"Is your relationship with Kiara over?"
"Are you two staying together here?"
Dozens of voices. Cameras flashing.
Aarvi froze mid-step.
Vivan's face drained of color. His eyes widened in disbelief - then in panic.
"Shit," he whispered.
Without thinking, he reached out and grabbed Aarvi's wrist, pulling her slightly behind him.
"Stay close to me," he said urgently, positioning himself as a shield between her and the entrance. "Don't step out. Don't let them get a clear shot of your face."
His first instinct wasn't anger.
Wasn't frustration.
It was to protect her.
He angled his body, blocking the view as much as he could, but the noise outside only grew louder, the cameras flashing relentlessly.
And then-
They took a single step closer to the door...
...and realized it was already too late.