18
As the car pulled up to her childhood building, Vaani instinctively sat a little straighter, eyes scanning the familiar balconies and clotheslines fluttering above.
She hadn't been home since a few days, and even though it hadn't been that long, something about returning here always made her feel both comforted and childlike again.
Dhruv parked quietly, not saying much. The engine stopped, and for a moment they just sat there as the silence of the evening settled over them.
She unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the door slowly. As they stepped out, she turned to him a little nervously.
"Uhm..." she began, adjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder, "do you want to come up... or wait here?"
He gave her a look. Not annoyed, but amused. "Why would I wait outside?"
She blinked. "I thought maybe you're... uncomfortable."
He shut his door with a soft thud and walked to her side, his hand lightly brushing the side mirror as he passed. "I'm fine, Vaani," he said simply. "I'll come."
There was something about the way he said it - without hesitation or ceremony - that made her feel slightly embarrassed for even asking.
"Okay," she nodded quietly and led the way.
The building elevator was old but still functional, the kind with iron grill doors that rattled when closed.
As they stepped in and she pressed the fourth-floor button, he stood beside her with his hands in his pockets, glancing around at the worn buttons and scribbled stickers of local tiffin services and electricians.
She didn't know why, but she suddenly felt self-conscious.
The elevator dinged at her floor, and she walked a step ahead, her fingers twitching with slight nerves as she approached the familiar wooden door. She rang the bell.
Footsteps padded from inside. A few seconds later, the door swung open, and her mother stood there with a surprised but warm expression on her face.
"Vaani! Oh-" her eyes shifted to Dhruv, and her smile only grew wider. "Both of you?"
"Hi, Aai," Vaani said with a small smile. "I just needed to pick up a few things-my sketchbook and the dupatta Ria asked for-"
"Of course, of course, come in!" Sunita said quickly, stepping aside.
Dhruv gave a gentle nod. "Namaste."
"Namaste, beta," her mother beamed at him, her voice genuinely pleased. "It's so nice to see you again. You should've told us you were coming; I'd have made something for tea!"
Vaani slipped off her shoes by the door. "We just stopped by on the way back from the site," she said, glancing at Dhruv quickly as he followed suit and stepped inside, taking in the cozy hallway filled with framed photographs and little shelves stacked with books and souvenirs.
Her father walked in from the living room, adjusting his reading glasses. "Oh, hello hello," he said warmly, catching sight of them. "What brings you two here?"
Vaani hugged him quickly. "Just needed to pick a few things."
"Nice to see you again, beta," Ramesh said to Dhruv with a polite smile.
"Nice to see you too," Dhruv said, his voice calm, respectful. He wasn't overly expressive, but he wasn't stiff either. Just... composed.
"Sit na," Sunita said eagerly, leading them into the living room. "You both must be tired."
The living room hadn't changed in years-lace curtains, a teak wood coffee table with an embroidered runner, soft cushions, a little temple in the corner. Dhruv sat on the sofa while Vaani went inside to find her things.
"Chai?" Sunita asked, already heading toward the kitchen.
Before he could reply, Vaani called from the bedroom, "Aai, don't! We just had some a little while ago."
Sunita paused, then came back into the room with a slight mock pout. "You should've come earlier then. I made those cheese aloo patties Vedant likes."
Dhruv gave a rare small smile. "I'll try them next time."
"You'd better," she teased.
Just then, Vihaan emerged from his room, grinning the second he saw Dhruv. "Oho, look who's here!"
"Hey," Dhruv said, standing and giving him a quick handshake that turned into one of those friendly half-hugs.
Vaani returned with a small bag in hand, her dupatta neatly folded inside. "Got it. We can leave in a bit."
"No rush," her dad said, turning on the fan above. "It's nice having you two here."
She smiled politely, then glanced at Dhruv. He didn't seem in a hurry. In fact, he looked perfectly at ease, like he belonged in this house, like he wasn't the type to check his watch every five minutes. And that surprised her.
The soft hum of family life buzzed around them-her mom asking about how the site was progressing, her dad mentioning something about Ria's upcoming mehendi, Vihaan teasing Vaani about the number of group chats she hadn't responded to.
All while Dhruv just... sat and listened, nodded, and every now and then, responded.
There was something oddly natural about the entire scene.
And Vaani, standing a little away from them, holding her cloth bag close, found herself smiling-not out of politeness, but because something about this moment felt unexpectedly light.
Like something... shifted. Quietly, again.
Something good.
The soft clinking of teacups echoed in the cozy living room as Vaani's mother placed a fresh tray of chai and some leftover patties on the coffee table, insisting everyone have a second round.
The warm scent of cardamom and ginger floated through the air as everyone gathered, a sort of unspoken routine whenever Vaani was home.
Vaani sat beside her brother Vihaan, balancing a plate on her knee as she dipped a biscuit absentmindedly into her tea. Across the room, Dhruv sat comfortably next to her father, legs crossed, his cup in hand, a slight smile on his face as he listened.
"So, how's the work progressing at the Abu Dhabi office?" her father asked Dhruv, taking a careful sip of his chai.
Dhruv nodded. "It's going well. We're ahead of schedule, actually. A lot of credit goes to Vaani's team-they've been incredibly efficient. Mark was impressed too."
Her mother beamed at that. "That's good to hear. Vaani has always been very particular about her work."
Dhruv smiled softly. "It shows. Her designs are detailed. Minimalist, but not empty. There's thought behind them."
Vaani, overhearing the compliment from across the room, blinked mid-sip. Her mother gave her a little nudge of pride, and Vaani ducked her head slightly with a bashful smile.
"Tai, come with me for two minutes?" Vihaan leaned in and asked, keeping his voice low so as not to interrupt the ongoing conversation. "I need your help with something for my SOP."
She nodded quickly, brushing biscuit crumbs off her top. "Yeah, sure."
As she followed Vihaan toward his room, Dhruv caught the movement from the corner of his eye, but didn't react outwardly-only his gaze followed her until she disappeared behind the door.
Back in the living room, her parents continued chatting.
"You've been working with international offices for a while now?" her father asked, curious.
"Since I moved back from the States, yeah. It started with our Dubai project and then expanded," Dhruv explained. "Abu Dhabi is new territory, but promising."
"And Vaani mentioned you did your masters, too, in the US?" Sunita added, her tone light, almost as if gathering little pieces of him for her own understanding, "We thought it was only undergraduate."
"No, it was Masters too," he nodded. "at Berkeley."
"Ah, that's very impressive," Ramesh said, nodding appreciatively. "Vihaan is planning US for masters too. In UK and US. You must've really enjoyed the exposure there."
"I did," Dhruv said honestly. "The work ethic, the systems... But it's nice to be back. Challenging, but familiar. And... warmer, in a way."
Sunita chuckled. "Yes, India does have a way of making everything feel warmer-even chaos."
Dhruv smiled at that.
For a moment, silence lingered, the kind that wasn't uncomfortable. The kind where cups are sipped and glances exchanged. Her mom refilled his chai without asking, the way only mothers do once they've unofficially accepted you as someone worth keeping around.
"So you said Vaani's ahead of schedule?" her father asked again, returning to the earlier point.
"Yes. A lot of the layout decisions that usually take weeks were done in two days," Dhruv said, resting his hand on his knee. "She doesn't second-guess. She takes feedback, but she has a vision. It's rare."
Both parents shared a look of soft pride.
"You know," Sunita said thoughtfully, "even as a kid, she was like that. She used to rearrange her room every two weeks. Her bookshelf was sorted by height and color. We thought she was just particular. Turns out she was preparing for all this."
Dhruv chuckled quietly at that. The image was easy to imagine now. Vaani with her sleeves rolled up, serious, brows furrowed as she decided where her books should go.
"She doesn't say much," he said after a moment, looking at his half-empty cup, "but she notices everything."
Her father nodded, almost relieved that someone saw that. "Yes. That's her way."
Just then, the door to Vihaan's room creaked open and Vaani stepped out, holding a notebook. "He wants me to read his draft later," she muttered as she came back to sit beside her mom.
"Is it good?" her father asked.
"It's Vihaan," she said flatly. "He'll leave it till the deadline and still get into his top three."
Dhruv smiled faintly.
As her mom offered her more chai, Vaani shook her head. "No, I'm good, Aai. I have a little headache."
Dhruv turned his head toward her, subtle concern flashing in his expression. "Did you take something?"
"I will once we get home," she said, brushing it off.
"Maybe some water first," Sunita said, already rising to go to the kitchen.
Vaani leaned back slightly against the couch. Dhruv noticed she was wearing the same pair of delicate gold earrings she wore often-simple, but distinct. They suited her. Quiet, but thoughtful. Like her.
He turned back to her dad, but his thoughts were trailing.
Something about this house... this tea... this family... it didn't feel like a formality.
It felt oddly normal.
Like he belonged in it.
Vihaan stepped back into the living room, his laptop now closed, hair a little messier than before, the kind of disheveled look that came with intense brainstorming. He stretched slightly, walked toward the center, and plopped onto the arm of the couch near where Dhruv was sitting.
Dhruv glanced up and gave a small smile. "So," he began casually, "I heard you're planning to apply for a Master's. What're you thinking-UK or US?"
Vihaan looked a little surprised by the question, but recovered quickly. "Yeah... yeah, I'm looking at both. I mean, I have a list-Oxford, Imperial, UCL... and in the US, Columbia, NYU, maybe Stanford if I get brave enough."
Dhruv raised his brows, impressed. "Damn. Columbia, huh? Joining my alumni circle, I see."
Vihaan let out a short, polite chuckle. "Maybe. If they let me in."
But Dhruv caught it-that hesitation, the way Vihaan's smile didn't quite reach his eyes. It was fleeting, but noticeable, at least to someone like Dhruv who had built half his career reading people in boardrooms and contracts.
He didn't press. Not now.
Instead, his eyes instinctively flicked toward Vaani, sitting quietly across the room with her legs folded beneath her on the couch. She wasn't smiling, not exactly. She was watching Vihaan. Closely. And not like an encouraging older sister-not in that moment.
There was a shadow in her gaze. One he couldn't place.
But just as quickly, like someone flipped a switch inside her, her expression softened and her lips curled into an easy smile.
"You should come over sometime," she said, her tone light and casual as she glanced at her brother. "You and Vedant both."
Before Vihaan could respond, Dhruv leaned forward a little, adding smoothly, "Yes, definitely. We'd love to have you two over. Plus, I need to fire up my old PlayStation anyway. It's collecting dust."
Vihaan let out a more genuine laugh this time. "Sure, Tai. Jijaji," he added, mock-formally, with a salute.
Just then, Vedant emerged from the hallway, towel hanging off one shoulder, his hair damp from a recent shower. "Ohhh, Tai!" he sang, grinning widely. "Hellooo, hello. Dada," he nodded at Dhruv, "I heard someone say PlayStation?"
Dhruv chuckled. "See? I say one word and I summon the boys."
Vedant dropped onto the other couch with dramatic flair. "You don't even know, Dhruv Dada. I've been dying to play FIFA on a big screen. I'm coming over. Even if no one invites me, I'll just show up."
"You were literally invited two seconds ago," Vihaan muttered, amused.
"Details," Vedant waved him off.
Everyone laughed, the tension of a few moments ago dissolving into the casual, noisy comfort of shared family space. Vaani smiled at the scene-the two boys bickering lightly, their parents watching with amused eyes, and Dhruv surprisingly fitting in like he'd been part of this rhythm forever.
Her eyes flicked to him again. He was leaning back, tea in hand, eyes slightly crinkled from smiling at Vedant's dramatic speech. He looked relaxed. At home.
For a brief moment, her smile wavered-just for her. Something tugged at her chest. A feeling she couldn't fully process yet.
He looked so right sitting there. And it was terrifying.
"I still have a bone to pick with Tai, though," Vedant declared.
Vaani blinked. "What now?"
"You didn't tell us you're designing that huge new office in Abu Dhabi! Baba had to tell me when I got home the other day. What kind of betrayal is that?"
"I did tell Aai," Vaani defended weakly.
Vedant dramatically pressed a hand to his chest. "Aai doesn't tell anyone anything until she thinks it's confirmed."
"Because I didn't want to jinx it," Sunita said from the kitchen doorway, wiping her hands on a towel. "And your sister doesn't exactly come home shouting news."
Vaani shook her head. "You're all too dramatic."
"She's right," Vihaan chimed in. "We make enough noise for her to stay quiet."
Their father chuckled. "That's accurate."
Dhruv looked over at Vaani again, watching her with quiet curiosity. How she responded, how she held space for her brothers and quietly encouraged them. How she softened around her parents without losing that steel core he saw at work.
Something about her in this environment made more sense now. She wasn't soft. She was steady.
And suddenly, the mystery of the education loan tab felt a little heavier. More complex. She didn't wear her burdens on her sleeve. But they were there.
As everyone drifted into smaller conversations, Vaani quietly rose, stretching her back. "I'll just grab the documents I came for," she said.
"I'll come with you," her mom offered, and they disappeared into the other room.
Dhruv remained seated, Vedant beside him now, launching into a monologue about the current FIFA rankings and how England was still a disappointment. Dhruv nodded along, laughing where appropriate, but his mind wandered again-back to that tab on her laptop.
A loan for what?
And why did it feel like more than just money?
Whatever it was, he'd seen enough to know one thing:
She wasn't going to tell anyone.
Not unless someone asked.
Really asked.
And maybe, just maybe... he would.
Soon.
"We should really head now," Dhruv said softly, glancing at his watch as he rose from the couch.
It was already edging toward evening, the sky outside stained orange and purple. The warmth of home lingered, but the hours had stretched long enough.
Vaani, still laughing from something Vedant had said, immediately stood too. "Yes, you're right. We should go."
Her mother came forward, hands wiping on the end of her dupatta. "You two should come more often," she said with a light smile. "The house feels louder in a good way when you're here."
"We will," Dhruv said, genuine in his tone.
Vaani leaned down and gave Vedant a quick hug. He grinned up at her. "I'll see you at PS war headquarters, okay?"
She chuckled. "Yes, and maybe don't eat four samosas before coming."
Then she turned to Vihaan. Her smile faltered for half a second before she hugged him too. A little longer. A little tighter. Her fingers curled just briefly around his back before she pulled away, eyes soft but unreadable.
Dhruv noticed.
He didn't know what it meant, but something passed between them. Not words-just weight.
"Alright, bye-bye, Vihaan," Dhruv said casually, ruffling his hair lightly, the way an older brother might.
"Bye, Jijaji," Vihaan said with a warm grin.
"Bye Vedant, come over soon, both of you, for PS." Dhruv continued, as he moved from Vihaan to Vedant.
"Of course Dada. I'll be there!" Vedant exclaimed.
Dhruv turned to her parents. "Thank you for the tea-and hospitality."
"Always welcome," her father said. "Drive safe."
With one last wave, they were out the door.
~·~
The car ride back was quiet, the kind of silence that didn't feel awkward but didn't feel light either. The streets were mostly empty, the city beginning to fall into its slower nighttime rhythm.
"All good?" Dhruv asked, his eyes still on the road, but his voice gentle.
"Huh?" Vaani turned her face to him like she hadn't expected him to speak. "Yes... all fine."
He gave a small nod. "Hmm."
But he didn't believe her. Not entirely.
He didn't push either. Not yet.
The rest of the ride passed in that kind of stillness. Neither strained nor comforting. Just two people carrying thoughts too tangled to unpack in a moving vehicle.
They reached the building and walked up in silence. Dhruv unlocked the door, pushed it open, and let her in before stepping inside himself. The door clicked softly as he locked it behind them.
Vaani moved into the bedroom without a word, grabbing her clothes to change.
Dhruv remained in the living room, dropping his keys into the tray and pulling out his phone. His screen blinked to life with a series of work messages. He answered a few quickly, his fingers moving out of habit, but his mind wasn't on them. Not really.
He looked up just as Vaani re-entered, now changed into her favorite home tee and pajama bottoms-the familiar grey one he noticed she wore every few days.
She gave a faint smile in his direction as she walked past toward the dining table where her laptop waited. "I'll finish a few edits," she said quietly.
"Sure," he responded, eyes following her.
She opened the lid and the glow of the screen lit her face.
Her brows furrowed just slightly as she scanned the design drafts and replied to a few emails.
Her fingers were steady, but her eyes gave her away.
There was a dull sadness tucked behind them.
A weight she wasn't trying to show, but one he was starting to recognize.
Dhruv remained where he was, seated on the edge of the couch, phone still in his hand-but he wasn't reading anymore.
He was watching her.
She didn't even notice.
There was something about the way she sat. Her back a little straighter than usual, her mouth pressed into a near-flat line. She wasn't just working. She was holding herself together with the act of working.
Something was off.
He considered walking over. Sitting beside her. Asking.
But instead, he just kept watching.
Vaani didn't cry. She didn't sigh heavily. She didn't do anything dramatic.
She just worked.
Quietly. Neatly. Like that's all she needed to keep the cracks from showing.
But he saw them.
He didn't know if he was supposed to. Or if she wanted him to.
Yet he did.
And for some reason, that mattered.
He leaned back, eyes still on her, and let the silence hold them. There was something unspoken between them again, and he didn't know what to do with it.
But he felt it settle into his chest anyway.
Not sharp.
Just quiet.
And heavy.
~·~
The night had deepened into a hushed stillness, the soft tick of the clock above the bookshelf the only audible sound in the apartment. Dhruv stirred in bed, eyes fluttering open in the dark. He instinctively reached to his left-empty.
The sheets were cool where Vaani should've been.
He sat up slowly, blinking the sleep away as he scanned the room. The bedroom door was slightly ajar, and faint light spilled in from the hallway.
Frowning, he slipped out of bed and walked barefoot through the silence, pausing just outside the living room.
Vaani stood by the dining table, her laptop still open but ignored. She had her phone to her ear, one hand pressed to her forehead, her voice low but not low enough that he couldn't hear her words.
"Is there... is there any other way? Any scholarship? Anything?" Her voice cracked just slightly. Desperate. Raw.
Dhruv's hand curled against the doorframe.
There was a long pause. Then her shoulders dropped, and her next words came quieter.
"Okay. Thanks... No, I understand. Alright."
She ended the call and let the phone drop to the table, her fingers still wrapped around it.
She sat down slowly on the dining chair, her movements tired. Defeated.
Dhruv saw her wipe under her eye with the back of her hand.
A small sniff escaped her.
His heart skipped.
She sniffed again, but this time steadied herself quickly and reached for the phone once more. It buzzed in her palm as she made another call.
"Hi Baba..." she said, her voice attempting to sound composed, but the weariness underneath was impossible to miss.
Dhruv's brows furrowed.
Why was her father still awake?
Why did she sound so burdened?
He stayed where he was-half in shadow, half out of view.
"I spoke to them," Vaani continued, her voice low but firm. "They're not budging... and we've already exhausted all available scholarships."
She looked down, eyes blankly on the table surface, though Dhruv could tell she wasn't seeing it at all.
"We need to convince him to wait, Baba... we don't have any other choice. I don't think we can afford it right now..."
A silence followed.
Her father must've said something on the other end because her face twisted a little-an ache surfacing in her features.
Dhruv took a small step forward, then stopped himself. Her next words pinned him in place.
"Baba... it hurt me to see Vihaan that way too." Her voice trembled. "But Vedant's undergrad in the UK, plus Vihaan's postgrad in the US, after my wedding expenses... it's too much strain, in the same year."
Her voice dropped into a whisper.
"We can't stop Vedant's undergrad. He's already gotten the offer. And Vihaan... he can try again, Baba. Maybe next year. Maybe..."
Dhruv stared at her. Her shoulders were slumped. Her hand gripped the phone too tightly.
She went quiet. But then her voice rose again, a new layer of guilt now cracking through.
"I told you to consider delaying my wedding for a few years," she whispered fiercely. "If we had, Vihaan could've gone for his master's now... he could've had everything he wanted, when he wanted it."
She sniffled again.
And then came the words Dhruv wouldn't forget.
"I feel so guilty, Baba... I feel like I stripped Vihu away from his dream."
Dhruv's throat tightened.
Something inside him sank at the way she said it.
Not like a passing guilt. Not like a fleeting pang.
It was buried deep inside her. Like a wound she kept pressing on quietly, over and over.
He hadn't known.
He hadn't even wondered.
Her laughter at work, her calm expressions, the way she went about her day-it was all a practiced mask. She wasn't just balancing her job, her family, and her marriage. She was carrying guilt. Responsibility. The quiet kind that ate at you when no one was looking.
"I wish I had pushed harder," she whispered to her father. "Vihaan never said a word. Not one word, Baba. But I saw his face when he sensed we couldn't afford it. I saw it."
Dhruv's hands curled into fists at his sides.
He hated that she felt this way.
He hated that she was crying alone in the middle of the night, breaking down softly where no one could hear.
Except... he had heard.
"Okay..." she said softly. "Okay. I'll talk to him again tomorrow. We'll figure it out."
She ended the call.
And then she sat there, still for a long second.
Then another.
Dhruv stood quietly, unsure if he should go to her or pretend he hadn't heard any of it.
But then, like she could sense him, Vaani turned slowly.
Their eyes met across the room.
Her expression faltered for just a moment-but she quickly schooled it into something normal, a smile crossing her face.
Dhruv said nothing. He just looked at her.
She smiled lightly. "Did I wake you?"
"No," he said quietly. "I just noticed you weren't there."
She nodded and stood. "Yeah... I just remembered some work. I'll... come back to bed."
But as she passed him, her eyes avoided his.
Dhruv stood there alone for a moment more.
He looked at the phone still glowing faintly on the table.
And he thought of her words again.
"I feel so guilty."
He didn't know what he was going to do yet.
But he knew this-she was not going to carry it all alone anymore.
~·~
The room was quiet except for the soft hum of the air conditioner and the occasional rustle of the sheets. An hour had passed since they returned to bed, and Vaani had drifted off to sleep quickly, emotionally and physically drained.
Dhruv lay on his back, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling, lit faintly by the city lights sneaking in through the curtains. The conversation he overheard earlier looped in his mind like a broken reel-her hushed desperation, the guilt in her voice, the pain she tried to hide.
He turned his head slightly, and his gaze settled on her.
She was curled up on her side, hands tucked beneath her cheek, the blanket slipping just below her shoulder. Her brows were faintly furrowed even in sleep, like her body still carried tension it hadn't had time to release.
Dhruv sighed softly and shifted closer.
How was it that she bore so much weight on her shoulders and still smiled so effortlessly during the day?
She had done everything-from moving countries to adjusting into this sudden, strange marriage-without asking anything of him.
Not his help. Not his opinion. Not even his attention.
And now, even this... the one thing that had clearly shaken her. .. she hadn't breathed a word about it.
Why couldn't she just ask him?
They lived in the same home. Slept in the same bed. She didn't have to handle it alone.
His jaw tightened.
Maybe she thought she couldn't ask. Maybe she still didn't know where they stood-not just as husband and wife, but as people, as partners. Maybe she was trying to preserve something for her family, maybe even her pride. Maybe, she felt it was too soon to ask him.
But it still stung.
That she'd rather break herself apart than lean on him.
He reached forward gently and tugged the blanket over her shoulder, covering her properly. His fingers brushed the fabric of her sleeve, and he paused just a second, watching the peaceful rise and fall of her back.
Something heavy sat in his chest.
"Vaani..." he murmured, so quietly it barely reached past his own lips.
But she didn't stir.
And maybe that was good.
He gave her one last glance, then lay back down and turned off the bedside lamp. The darkness washed over them again, calm and still, but Dhruv's thoughts remained wide awake for a while longer.
Eventually, he closed his eyes.
Not because his mind was quiet.
But because if he kept looking at her, he'd start wondering how much more she was hiding behind that soft voice and quiet smile.
And right now, he wasn't sure he was ready to find out.
??