51. TURBULENCE
They stepped outside.
Morning sunlight hit them immediately—bright, unforgiving.
And so did everyone’s eyes.
All of them were already waiting near the cars, bags loaded, casual chatter mid-conversation… which abruptly slowed the moment Aarvi and Vivan appeared together.
With the same faint blush. With the same awkward silence between them.
Pragya noticed first.
Then Vinod.
Then Prisha.
Then Vedant.
Then Yuvan—who raised a brow just a little too knowingly.
No one said a word.
No one needed to.
Aarvi felt suddenly too visible.
She adjusted the hem of her polo, heart thudding as she realised how close she still was to Vivan. The memory of his hand at her waist flashed again—uninvited.
Almost immediately, both of them stepped away from each other.
At the same time.
Aarvi moved closer to Pragya. Vivan took a step toward Vinod.
The distance was obvious.
Which only made Prisha’s lips curl, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Oh,” she said lightly, pretending to stretch, “did something interesting happen inside?”
Aarvi flushed harder.
“N—nothing,” she replied too quickly.
Vivan cleared his throat. “She forgot her phone.”
“That’s it?” Vedant asked, sceptical, dragging the word out.
“Yes,” Vivan said flatly, shooting him a warning look.
Yuvan glanced between them, a slow smile forming—but instead of teasing, he simply nodded.
“Good. We were waiting.”
Pragya exchanged a look with Vinod—soft, knowing, amused.
She clapped her hands once. “Alright then. Let’s go before we get late.”
As everyone moved toward the cars, Vivan walked ahead, opening the door of the large seven-seater XUV for his parents.
Aarvi followed, trying to steady her breath.
But just before she got in, she felt his presence again—close enough to feel familiar now.
He didn’t touch her.
Didn’t say anything.
Just lowered his voice enough so only she could hear.
“You okay?”
She paused.
Then nodded. “Yes.”
It was a small exchange. Barely anything.
Yet both of them knew—
The awkwardness hadn’t gone away.
It had simply changed into something… heavier.
Something neither of them was ready to name.
Just then, Vivan opened the car door for Aarvi without a word.
She paused—just a second—then murmured a soft “thank you” and settled into the middle seat.
Before Vivan could even move—
Yuvan slid in beside her smoothly.
“Thanks for opening the door,” Yuvan added casually, flashing a grin as if nothing was wrong.
Something inside Vivan snapped.
Not loudly. Not visibly.
But his jaw clenched so hard it ached.
He stood there for half a second too long, staring at the sight— Aarvi by the window. Yuvan beside her. Comfortable. Too comfortable.
Why does it bother me?
he wondered sharply.
He didn’t have an answer.
He only knew one thing— he wanted to sit there.
Beside her.
But going around the car now would look obvious. Stupid. Suspicious.
He exhaled slowly, schooling his expression, and slid into the seat beside Yuvan instead.
The door shut.
The distance felt wrong.
Unsettling.
As Vinod started the car, Vivan leaned back, forcing himself to look away—
And that’s when his eyes fell on the security guard standing near the gate.
An idea sparked. A terrible one. But his annoyance was louder than his logic.
“Wait—wait, wait!” Vivan suddenly said, almost shouting.
The car halted.
Vinod turned, brow raised. “What happened?”
“I—uh,” Vivan said quickly, already opening the door, “I forgot to give the house keys to the guard.”
Before anyone could question it, he was out of the car.
Pragya leaned closer to Vinod and whispered, lips twitching,
“But I already gave the keys to the guard.”
Vinod glanced at his son through the windshield, suspicion giving way to amusement.
Then what exactly did he forget?
Meanwhile, Vivan stood in front of the guard, suddenly very aware that he had absolutely no plan.
The guard straightened instantly. “Yes, sir?”
Vivan blinked.
Paused.
Then—completely unprepared—he blurted,
“l-l uh....I am.” he hesitated, thinking of any excuse, but didn't came any so he blurted what came in his mind first. “I—I. I am going to miss you”.
The guard blinked back.
Once. Twice.
“I—uh,” he said politely, confused, “I will also… miss you, sir.”
Vivan nodded gravely, as if this was the most meaningful exchange of his life.
“Good.”
And with that, he turned around and walked back.
This time, he didn’t go to Yuvan’s side.
He circled the car.
Stopped at Aarvi’s door.
Opened it.
Aarvi looked up, startled.
He glanced at her, feigning mild annoyance.
“Oh. I… came to the wrong side.”
Yuvan frowned.
Aarvi tilted her head, confused.
Vivan scratched the back of his neck like it was a genuine mistake.
“And now I’ll have to go all the way around again, which is stupid, so—”
he gestured vaguely,
“—you shift. I’ll sit here.”
Aarvi hesitated for a second—
Then silently complied, scooting over.
As she did, she caught the smallest hint of satisfaction on his face.
And for reasons she didn’t understand—
She smiled.
Internally, Vivan congratulated himself.
Victory.
He shut the door and settled beside her, finally relaxed.
From the front seat, Pragya glanced at him through the mirror.
“Did you give the keys to the guard?” she asked casually.
“Yes, Maa,” Vivan replied without missing a beat.
Pragya smiled slowly—knowingly—and exchanged a look with Vinod.
Vinod shook his head, amused.
The car moved forward again.
“Maa, why you told us to sit at the back seat?” Prisha complained from the back seat, clearly sulking. “We could’ve used another car.”
Pragya didn’t even turn around. “Because, long drives with family is better than using separate cars for each member,” she replied simply.
Prisha let out a dramatic sigh and slumped back, earning a soft chuckle from Vedant beside her.
Yuvan laughed lightly at her antics and pulled out his phone, thumb scrolling effortlessly. A few moments later, his expression lit up.
“Aarvi, look at this,” he said excitedly, angling the phone toward her.
Aarvi leaned closer without thinking, her shoulder tilting slightly toward Yuvan as she focused on the screen. Vivan noticed it immediately—the shift, the ease. He raised a brow, subtly craning his neck to see what was so interesting.
Whatever it was, it worked.
Aarvi let out a soft giggle. Then another. Her laugh was light, unguarded—free.
Something tightened in Vivan’s chest.
He watched the way her shoulders relaxed, how her smile came easily there, without hesitation or restraint. With Yuvan, she didn’t measure her expressions. She didn’t second-guess herself.
This is who she’s comfortable with.
The thought settled heavier than he expected.
Yuvan was the one she laughed with. Yuvan was the one she leaned toward.
He wasn’t.
And maybe—just maybe—that was fair.
He hadn’t done anything to earn that softness. He had only stood beside her, protective but distant, careful enough to never step closer.
Vivan let out a slow breath, turning his face toward the window. The scenery outside blurred as the car moved forward, but his thoughts stayed uncomfortably still.
You don’t get to feel this, he told himself quietly.
Not when you never tried.
Yet the faint echo of her laugh lingered in his ears long after he stopped watching.
After some time, they reached Airport.
By the time all the formalities were done, security checks cleared, and boarding passes collected, the group finally found seats near the waiting area. The atmosphere was light—people chatting, luggage placed near feet, phones out, excitement humming softly in the air.
Naturally, photos happened.
Prisha and Vedant were busy clicking selfies. Pragya and Vinod stood together, smiling warmly for pictures that Prisha insisted on retaking again and again. Laughter echoed softly around them.
Aarvi stood a little away from the group, fingers clasped around the strap of her bag, watching everyone with a faint smile. She looked present—but distant. As if she was there, yet still carrying the weight of everything that had happened.
That was when Yuvan walked up to her.
“Do you want pictures too?” he asked casually, holding up his phone.
Aarvi hesitated. Just for a second. Then she nodded.
Vivan had just finished his own formalities and was walking toward them when the scene caught his eye.
Yuvan stood a little in front of Aarvi, phone held up, angling it carefully. Aarvi laughed—soft at first, then more freely.
“No, wait—don’t click from there,” she said, stepping slightly to the side.
“That angle makes me look weird.”
“Hey! Trust me, I’m a professional,” Yuvan replied dramatically.
She rolled her eyes.
“You said that last time too.”
He clicked anyway.
Aarvi leaned in, grabbed the phone, and frowned.
“This is terrible.”
“That was a test shot,” he defended quickly. “This time pakka. I swear.”
She laughed again—real laughter. The kind that reached her eyes. The kind that loosened her shoulders, that made her forget everything else for a moment.
Vivan stopped.
He watched quietly.
He saw how comfortable she looked. How easily she spoke. How naturally she smiled. No hesitation. No guarded edges. No careful politeness.
For the first time since all the chaos, Aarvi looked… light.
And that should have been enough.
It should have made him happy.
And it did—somewhere.
But not completely.
Because she wasn’t smiling like that because of him.
A soft voice drifted from behind him.
An elderly woman, seated with her husband nearby, smiled as she watched Aarvi and Yuvan.
“Looking at them,” she said fondly, “reminds me of our newly married days.”
Her husband laughed in agreement, squeezing her hand.
Vivan heard it.
Every word.
His gaze sharpened involuntarily, eyes tracing the distance between Aarvi and Yuvan, the familiarity, the ease. A strange tightness settled in his chest—unwanted, uninvited.
No, he thought, almost sharply.
A thought flickered in his mind—one that made him uncomfortable. One he didn’t want to name.
So he pushed it away.
Hard.
Without overthinking it, without even realizing how abrupt he sounded, he walked toward them.
“We’re getting late,” he said flatly. “Let’s go.”
Aarvi looked up, surprised.
Yuvan blinked, glancing at his watch.
“Oh—yeah, okay.”
Aarvi nodded, handing the phone back. Her smile faded—not completely, but enough for Vivan to notice.
They all started moving toward the boarding gate.
Vivan walked ahead, expression unreadable.
But inside, the unease lingered.
Everyone moved toward the aircraft gate in a loose group.
Aarvi and Prisha walked ahead, shoulder to shoulder, completely absorbed in their girl talk—voices low, laughter soft. Every now and then, they deliberately lowered their voices even further, casting teasing glances back at Vedant.
Vedant followed them with an exaggerated pout.
“This is discrimination,” he muttered. “I’m not allowed to hear girls’ secrets now?”
Prisha flipped her hair dramatically without turning back. ????
“Exactly.”
Yuvan chuckled at Vedant’s antics, clearly enjoying the chaos.
And Vivan?
For once, he was entertained—watching his younger brother sulk, watching Aarvi laugh lightly beside Prisha. That sound still felt unfamiliar. Fragile. Rare.
Then Aarvi’s voice cut through the noise.
“I’m a little scared.”
Prisha stopped walking and turned to her.
“Scared of what?”
Aarvi hesitated for a second before admitting, softly,
“This is my first time flying.”
“Ohhh,” Prisha hummed exaggeratedly, then leaned closer with a playful smirk.
“Don’t worry. Bhai won’t let you be scared. It’s your first time— not his.”
She didn’t mean anything by it.
But Vivan heard it.
And his mind— traitorous, unfiltered— went somewhere it absolutely shouldn’t have.
He stiffened.
Cleared his throat.
Suddenly far too aware of his own thoughts. Of his breathing. Of the fact that Aarvi was going to sit right beside him for the next few hours.
He gulped.
They reached their seats.
Vivan paused beside Aarvi and asked, carefully neutral,
“Do you want the window seat?”
“I-Its ok, I will sit anywhere” she replied immediately.
Too quickly.
He knew.
She was lying.
And that realisation hit him harder than expected.
If Yuvan were standing there instead of him, she would’ve argued—playfully insisted. She would’ve smiled, pouted, fought for the seat she liked.
With him?
She simply gave up.
Something tight curled in his chest.
Without another word, Vivan stepped aside and gestured toward the window.
“Sit there.”
Aarvi glanced at him, surprised, then nodded quietly and took the seat.
She sat stiffly—hands folded in her lap, fingers fidgeting with the edge of her dupatta.
Vivan noticed.
Every small movement.
Every shallow breath.
He settled into the seat beside her, leaving a deliberate inch of space between them.
Was she nervous about the flight?
Or about sitting next to him?
That question lingered—unanswered—right as the cabin doors began to close.
___
Mid-flight.
The cabin lights dimmed, bathing everything in a soft, bluish hush. Conversations faded into murmurs. Somewhere behind them, a baby slept. Somewhere ahead, someone snored lightly.
Aarvi shifted in her seat.
Absentmindedly, she reached for the armrest—
So did Vivan.
Their fingers brushed.
Just barely.
Aarvi froze at the contact.
“Oh—sorry,” she whispered instantly, pulling her hand back as if burned.
“No—it’s okay,” Vivan said at the exact same moment.
Silence slipped in between them.
Thick. Noticeable.
Vivan inhaled slowly, then deliberately moved his arm away.
“You can take it,” he said quietly, eyes fixed ahead.
Aarvi hesitated, then carefully placed her arm on the rest, as if afraid to cross some invisible line neither of them had named.
Minutes passed.
The plane suddenly shuddered.
A small jolt.
Then another.
Turbulence.
Aarvi stiffened. Her fingers curled instinctively, breath hitching.
Before he could think—before he could stop himself—
Vivan covered her hand with his.
Firm.
Warm.
Steady.
“It’s normal,” he said softly, voice low and calm. “Just turbulence.”
She nodded, swallowing hard, not trusting her voice to come out steady.
The plane continued to tremble.
Vivan didn’t let go.
His thumb moved in slow, unconscious circles on the back of her palm.
Aarvi closed her eyes, fear rising and falling with her breath.
Vivan glanced at her—just to check.
Her eyes were shut tight.
Breathing uneven.
Shoulders tense.
Something tightened in his chest.
He curled his fingers around hers, firming his grip—not to hurt her, but to shield her.
To anchor her.
He lowered his gaze.
Her hand lay in his, small, soft, fitting too perfectly—like it belonged there.
The thought startled him.
Neither of them moved.
His grip wasn’t possessive.
It wasn’t forceful.
It was protective.
Grounding.
As if he was silently telling her you’re safe without using the words.
When the shaking finally eased, Vivan slowly lifted his hand away.
Too slowly.
And the moment the contact broke—
Both of them felt it.
The absence.
The sudden cold where warmth had been.
Aarvi stared out of the window, heart still racing, fingers resting where his hand had been seconds ago.
Vivan looked straight ahead, jaw tight, pulse unsteady.
Neither spoke.
But both of them knew—
Something had shifted.
Quietly.
Irreversibly.
Even if neither was ready to name it yet.
~?~