58
The doorbell rang with a cheerful chime, and almost instantly, the sound of footsteps came shuffling from inside. The familiar creak of the wooden door echoed before it opened to reveal Sunita, her face breaking into a wide smile the second she saw her daughter.
"Arre beta! Vaani! Hi, how are you?" Sunita's voice was full of warmth, her eyes scanning her daughter up and down as if checking for any signs of exhaustion.
"I'm good, Aai," Vaani said with a grin, stepping forward into her mother's hug. The fragrance of Sunita's sandalwood soap and the faint smell of turmeric from the kitchen wrapped around her like home itself.
Just then, Ramesh peeked out from the living room, newspaper in hand and reading glasses perched halfway down his nose. "Vaani? Mid office hours? What a pleasant surprise!" he said, looking equally delighted.
"Arre aat ye! (Come inside)" Sunita ushered her inside quickly, her hand pressing against the small of Vaani's back as though she couldn't let her linger a second more outside the threshold.
Vaani stepped into the hall, the cool tiles beneath her feet and the familiar colors of the house immediately soothing her. She sat down on the sofa, smoothing her kurta as Sunita settled beside her.
They began with small talk—the usual chatter about the reception that was just five days away.
Sunita asked if the decorator had confirmed the final arrangements, Ramesh inquired about the guest list from Dhruv's side, and Vaani answered patiently, her voice animated, though her heart was practically buzzing with the secret she had yet to share.
Finally, after a few moments of them discussing flower colors and the exact positioning of the food counters, Ramesh leaned back in his chair and peered over his glasses.
"But Vaani," he said, his brow furrowing lightly, "you've come in the middle of office hours. What happened? All good?"
Sunita's head whipped around, suddenly realizing the same. "Arre haan, I didn't even think about that. Tell us, what's the matter?"
Vaani grinned, her excitement bubbling over. "Oooo, about that..." She reached into her bag, her fingers brushing against the folder, and pulled it out dramatically. With a little flourish, she placed it on the coffee table and pushed it toward them.
Her parents looked at her, puzzled, before Sunita flipped the folder open. As her eyes scanned the words across the first page, her expression transformed—her jaw dropped slightly, then curved upward into the widest smile Vaani had ever seen.
"Arre!" Sunita exclaimed, her hand flying to her chest. "Vaani! A promotion?"
Ramesh leaned forward, adjusting his glasses to read more carefully. "Senior Designer?" he read aloud, his voice filled with disbelief and pride. "Oh ho ho, look at that! Our daughter is flying, Sunita!"
Vaani laughed, a little teary-eyed, as she nodded. "Yes! I got the promotion today. Feroze sir called me into HR and said my performance was outstanding. And they even gave me this whole week off as a gift. Can you believe it?"
Sunita clasped her daughter's hands, her eyes misting over. "Beta, I knew you were working hard, but this... this is such a proud moment. You've made us so happy, Vaani."
Ramesh reached over and patted her shoulder with pride, his voice thick with emotion. "You've outdone yourself. You're an asset to the company, they said, didn't they? That's what you are to us too, Vaani. An absolute asset to this family."
Before Vaani could respond, the front door banged open, and a small, energetic voice rang out. "Taiiiiii!"
Vedant came running in, still in his school uniform, his backpack bouncing awkwardly on his shoulders. His hair was ruffled, and his face glowed with the unmistakable joy of seeing his older sister.
"Arre, Vedant!" Vaani exclaimed, her arms opening wide. He dashed forward, crashing into her hug, his laughter ringing through the hall.
"Tai, you're here? During the day?" Vedant asked, eyes wide with curiosity as he pulled back.
"Yes, and I have news!" she said, her smile almost mischievous now. "I got a promotion at work, Vedant!"
Vedant gasped dramatically, his little hands flying to his cheeks. "Whaaaat? Tai! You're a boss now?"
Everyone burst out laughing at his phrasing, and Vaani ruffled his hair fondly. "Yes, something like that. I'll have my own cabin now."
Vedant's eyes widened even further. "Whoa! That means... that means... free snacks in your office too?"
Sunita swatted him lightly. "This boy! First thought only about food." But she chuckled, her heart swelling with pride at seeing all her children together like this.
The living room buzzed with laughter and chatter for several minutes, Vaani animatedly retelling the details of her meeting, Sunita nodding eagerly, Ramesh interjecting with proud remarks, and Vedant marveling at the idea of his sister being "a boss."
Then, as the laughter settled into a comfortable hum, Sunita tilted her head. "Did you tell Dhruv yet?" she asked, her tone curious.
Vaani shook her head, biting her lip sheepishly. "Not yet. I thought... I'll tell him when I get home."
Ramesh frowned lightly, though his eyes still sparkled with mischief. "Why don't you just call him here, beta? Let him be part of this moment too. After all, you're not just our daughter now, you're his partner too."
Vaani hesitated for a second, chewing on the inside of her cheek. Then, with a decisive nod, she pulled out her phone. "Okay... I'll try."
She scrolled to Dhruv's contact and pressed call. The phone rang twice before his familiar voice came through, clipped yet calm.
"Vaani?" His tone was curious, almost cautious, as if he hadn't expected her to call in the middle of his workday.
"Dhruv..." she said softly, trying to keep her tone light. "I'm at my mom and dad's place."
There was a pause on the other end. Then, his voice came again, a little more probing. "How did you get there?"
"Vihaan picked me up," she replied quickly, smiling faintly. "I, um... would you... would you want to come here?"
Silence. Just for a second. Her heart thumped as she waited for his reply. She could hear faint murmurs in the background, maybe his colleagues, maybe office chatter.
Then his voice came, steady and measured. "Sure. I'll be there in an hour."
Relief flooded her chest, her lips curving into a wide smile. "Okie, great! See you," she said softly before ending the call.
The moment she placed her phone down, Sunita was already watching her with raised brows, her lips tugging into a knowing smile. "He's coming?"
"Yes!" Vaani said, unable to hide the excitement in her voice.
Ramesh chuckled. "Good. He should hear the news with all of us. These are moments for family."
Vedant clapped his hands together dramatically. "Yay! Jiju is coming! Now it's a real celebration."
The room filled with laughter again as Vaani leaned back on the couch, her heart finally feeling settled. She glanced around at her family—their glowing smiles, their words of encouragement, their teasing—and for the first time all day, she felt the full weight of what she had achieved.
And soon, Dhruv would be here to share in it too.
~·~
The bell rang sharply, and the little brass chime on the side of the door rattled along with it. Sunita quickly wiped her hands on her dupatta—she'd been arranging plates of biscuits in the kitchen—and hurried toward the door. With a bright smile, she opened it.
"Arre, beta! Hi," she said warmly, her eyes lighting up as soon as she saw Dhruv standing there.
"Hi, Aai," Dhruv replied politely, his voice gentle as he bent his head slightly in respect. There was something in his tone—soft but steady—that always made Sunita's heart warm. She stepped aside quickly.
"Come in, come in. We were just talking," she said, ushering him inside.
As Dhruv entered, his eyes immediately found Vaani sitting on the sofa, chatting with her dad and Vihaan. She looked up right at that moment, almost as though she had sensed him.
"Dhruv," she said softly, a small smile tugging at her lips.
He gave her a warm but understated smile in return, the kind that curved his lips only slightly but held a quiet sincerity in his eyes. "Hi, Vaani."
Her smile widened at his acknowledgment, and she shifted a little on the sofa as if to make space for him, though he didn't immediately sit beside her.
Sunita clapped her hands together lightly. "Come, beta, sit. I'll bring chai." She bustled off toward the kitchen before anyone could object.
Ramesh folded his newspaper neatly and set it aside, giving Dhruv a welcoming nod. "So, how was the drive?"
"Not bad," Dhruv said, taking a seat on one of the single chairs across from the sofa. "Traffic was surprisingly light for this time."
"Ah, good, good," Ramesh replied, pleased with the small talk.
Vihaan grinned, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "Jiju, you came straight from office?"
"Yes," Dhruv said, glancing at him. "I thought I'd head back after this."
Before the conversation could stretch, Sunita returned, carrying a tray with four cups of steaming chai and a plate piled with Marie biscuits and some leftover chakli from the kitchen tin. She set it down on the coffee table with practiced ease.
"Arre, no meeting today, beta?" she asked as she handed Dhruv a cup.
"Thank you," he said first, taking it politely. Then, with that same composed tone, "Meetings were earlier. For now, things are stable."
Sunita beamed. "That's good. Work should be busy, but not so much that it tires you too much."
Dhruv gave a faint chuckle. "That balance is hard to find sometimes."
The family settled into an easy rhythm after that, the kind of comfortable chatter that fills a home on late afternoons.
Vaani sat quietly for a while, her fingers curled around her teacup, eyes occasionally flicking toward Dhruv.
She still hadn't said anything about her promotion; the words seemed to hover on the tip of her tongue but refused to come out.
So instead, she listened.
"Did you hear," Ramesh said suddenly, directing the question to Dhruv, "the government might be changing traffic fines again? I read it in today's paper."
Dhruv looked mildly surprised. "Oh? I didn't see that."
"Hmm, they're planning to increase the fine for using mobile phones while driving. From 800 to 1000 dirhams."
Dhruv raised his brows slightly, then nodded. "Honestly, that's fair. People drive recklessly with phones. Better to discourage it."
"Exactly!" Ramesh said, as if they had struck a chord together. "I keep telling Vihaan to stay off his phone when he's driving."
Vihaan groaned, throwing his head back. "Arre, Baba! Not in front of everyone!"
Everyone laughed, even Dhruv, a soft chuckle escaping him as he sipped his chai.
Sunita took the chance to jump in. "Beta, do you get time to eat properly at work? Vaani tells me you sometimes skip lunch."
At that, Dhruv's eyes flicked briefly to Vaani, who instantly looked down at her teacup as though suddenly interested in the way the steam curled. "I... manage," he said, his tone even. "But I'll try to be more regular."
"Good," Sunita said firmly, her motherly tone brooking no argument. "Health first, everything else later."
Vaani smiled secretly at her cup, amused at how her mother had said exactly what she herself often wanted to tell him.
Conversation meandered from topic to topic—Vedant's school exams, Vihaan's complaints about university assignments, and Sunita's excitement about the upcoming reception.
"Five more days," Sunita said with a sigh of both excitement and stress. "So much to finalize still. Caterer, decoration, and your outfit, Vaani!"
"I've sorted mine, Aai," Vaani said quickly. "It's ready for pickup tomorrow."
Sunita looked relieved. "Good. Dhruv, you must be busy too with your family arrangements?"
"A little," he admitted, setting his cup down gently. "Most things are under control now though."
"That's good," Ramesh said. "It's important for things to run smoothly. Weddings can be chaos otherwise."
Dhruv gave a small nod of agreement.
Meanwhile, Vedant—who had been quietly munching chakli all this time—suddenly piped up. "Jiju, do you like cricket?"
Dhruv blinked, slightly taken aback by the question, but he smiled faintly. "I watch sometimes. Why?"
Vedant leaned forward excitedly. "Because our school is having a cricket tournament! I'm opening batsman this time."
"Arre wah," Ramesh said proudly. "Look at this boy, already bragging."
"It's not bragging, Baba," Vedant said earnestly. "I've been practicing every day." Then he turned back to Dhruv with big eyes. "Maybe you can come watch sometime?"
Vaani nearly choked on her chai, hiding a laugh behind her hand. She glanced at Dhruv, unsure how he would react to the innocent request.
To her surprise, Dhruv didn't dismiss it. He looked at Vedant for a second, then gave a small, almost amused smile. "We'll see," he said simply.
Vedant beamed as if that was a definite yes.
The conversation continued in that vein—light, warm, filled with little stories and questions.
Sunita talked about how her neighbor had been pestering her about recipes, Ramesh discussed his latest obsession with gardening, and Vihaan teased Vaani for "sneaking out of office like a schoolkid bunking class. "
Through it all, Dhruv remained present—listening more than speaking, but when he did say something, it was thoughtful, often sparking a laugh or nod of approval from the family.
Vaani noticed how comfortably he fit into the space, how her parents looked at him with genuine fondness, how even Vedant and Vihaan seemed to include him naturally in their banter.
And still, the news sat heavy on her tongue. She kept thinking, Should I say it now? Or later, when it's just him and me?
So she stayed quiet.
For now, the joy was hers to hold, like a spark glowing gently inside her chest.
She leaned back, sipping the last of her chai, her eyes drifting to Dhruv across the room. He was listening intently to something Ramesh was saying about the cost of petrol, his expression calm, his posture relaxed.
When his gaze flicked to hers—just for a second—Vaani felt her heart skip. She looked away quickly, hiding her smile.
For today, this was enough.
The conversation in the living room flowed easily, like any ordinary evening—Ramesh speaking about the rising costs of vegetables, Sunita chiming in about the tailor being late with the reception blouse, and Vihaan teasing Vedant about his cricket obsession.
Vaani sat with them, her hands loosely wrapped around her empty teacup, her mind drifting elsewhere.
The folder rested on the cushion beside her, and every few minutes, her eyes flicked toward it. The glow she'd been carrying since leaving the office was still warm inside her chest, but it flickered with hesitation now.
Finally, she took a quiet breath and straightened slightly. Her eyes slid toward Dhruv, who was listening attentively to Ramesh's musings on inflation. "Dhruv," she said softly.
His gaze shifted to her instantly, his dark eyes steady, as if ready for whatever she was about to say. "Hmm?"
"I..." she hesitated for a heartbeat, then reached for the folder. Her fingers brushed the edge of it nervously. "I have to tell you something."
Another quiet hum from him, low and even. He waited.
She opened the folder and turned it toward him, sliding it across the table in his direction. Her voice lifted, trying to inject back the excitement she'd felt all day. "I got a promotionnnnnnnn!"
The word stretched with her enthusiasm, and for a moment, her family's faces lit up again—Sunita's eyes shining, Ramesh clapping his hands lightly, Vihaan grinning with pride, and even Vedant's jaw dropping as though his sister had just won a gold medal.
Dhruv leaned forward, picked up the folder, and skimmed through the pages with his usual calm focus. He read quickly, his brows barely shifting. Then he closed the file and looked at her.
"Oh," he said, his eyes warm, his tone steady. "Wow. Congratulations, Vaani."
The words landed with a dull thud in her chest.
She blinked at him, her smile faltering by a fraction. Inside, a small pang hit her—it was so formal, so... measured. Not the rush of warmth or the spark of pride she had imagined when telling him. For her, this was monumental. For him, it sounded almost like a polite handshake.
Still, she forced her lips into a smile and nodded, her voice soft. "Yeah... thank you."
The excitement that had bubbled like champagne inside her chest fizzled slightly, sinking to the bottom of her stomach. She tucked the folder back beside her and reached for a biscuit, though her appetite had dulled.
Conversation resumed around them. Sunita asked Dhruv if he'd prefer paneer or chicken at the reception dinner, Ramesh joked about his kurta not fitting anymore, and Vihaan insisted Vedant should practice cricket outside instead of in the hallway.
Through it all, Vaani laughed and nodded in all the right places, but the glow on her face was quieter now. She looked toward Dhruv occasionally, but he didn't look back often.
A few minutes later, however, she noticed he had pulled the folder toward himself again. He flipped open the pages, scanning more carefully this time. She watched silently as his eyes moved across the lines, his hand tapping the side of the file absently.
"Damn," he muttered after a minute, his brows lifting slightly. "Good increment."
She blinked, caught between relief that he had said something more and disappointment that his tone still sounded like he was evaluating an office report, not celebrating a personal victory.
Her chest tightened slightly, though she kept her face composed, nodding. "Yeah," she whispered, as though agreeing with his assessment instead of showing how much she had wanted him to react differently.
Ramesh leaned forward, beaming. "See, beta? Hard work always pays off. I always told you, didn't I?"
Vaani smiled warmly at her father, nodding quickly. "You did, Baba."
Sunita placed a hand over her daughter's, squeezing gently. "I'm so proud of you. Truly."
That warmth filled Vaani again, but only partly. She glanced sideways at Dhruv, who was still flipping through the folder with that same composed focus, commenting once in a while about the flexible work-from-home policy or the free fuel allowance. His words were practical, almost like a checklist.
She told herself not to be upset—this was just how he was, wasn't it? Reserved, measured, never overly expressive. And yet... a small ache lingered anyway. It's such a big deal for me. Couldn't he have been a little less formal?
She hid the thought behind another laugh at Vihaan's joke, shaking her head at him.
As the evening wore on, the chatter drifted away from her promotion.
They spoke of the reception again—Seema aunty insisting she'd bring laddoos, whether the DJ should be asked to avoid too many English songs, Vedant cheekily suggesting a flash mob.
Vaani engaged in all of it, her energy returning in bursts, but the heaviness in her chest stayed quietly tucked beneath her words.
When Dhruv finally set the folder aside and reached for another cup of chai, he seemed at ease, as though nothing more needed to be said. And maybe that was true for him. But for her, the silence spoke louder than words.
Still, she didn't show it. She smiled, she nodded, she laughed with her family. She tucked the sting deep down where no one could see it, convincing herself that she would let it go.
~·~
The hour slipped by quickly, full of chatter and warmth inside her parents' home.
But when it was time to leave, Sunita fussed over them, pressing leftovers into Vaani's hands, insisting she keep some sweets aside for later.
Ramesh patted Dhruv's shoulder, telling him to "take care of our girl.
" Vihaan carried the folder out to the car like it was a trophy, teasing Vaani the whole way, while Vedant stood at the gate waving until the car turned the corner.
Once the goodbyes were done, the house grew smaller in the rearview mirror.
The hum of the car filled the silence. Normally, Vaani would have started filling it too—talking about the chai, her mom's endless questions, or even teasing Dhruv about how stiff he looked when Baba joked about grandkids.
But tonight, she leaned her cheek against the window, watching the glow of streetlights rush past.
Her chest still carried that pinch of disappointment.
She hated herself a little for it—why am I expecting more?
He congratulated me. He read everything carefully.
He even praised me. That should be enough.
He's just... like this. Calm. Reserved. Not like me.
Not like Aai or Baba. He's not going to clap or cheer or hug.
But the ache wouldn't go away.
Dhruv's eyes flicked from the road to her reflection in the glass. He noticed the stillness in her, how her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her kurta but her lips stayed sealed. Finally, he cleared his throat lightly. "So..." he began, his tone casual. "You planning to stay home more often now?"
Vaani blinked and turned her head slightly toward him. For a second, she thought she'd misheard him. "Huh?"
He glanced at her, then back at the road. "With the new flexibility. Work from home, less commuting... you're planning to take that option, right?"
She nodded slowly, the motion small. "Yeah... yes. I think so."
Silence again.
Then his voice came, steady, matter-of-fact. "It's a good promotion. And at a very early stage of your career, too. That's really commendable." He paused for just a second before adding, "Well done."
Her lips parted, then closed. She gave a little nod, forcing a smile he couldn't see in the dark. "Thank you."
But inside, the words stung. Well done.
It sounded exactly like a teacher handing back an exam paper with a neat red tick at the top. Not like a partner sharing in her joy, or someone bursting with pride. No exclamation, no warmth spilling over. Just a neat, tidy acknowledgment.
She pressed her cheek back against the cool window and tried not to let her sigh show.
Her eyes followed the blur of headlights outside, telling herself quietly: It's fine, Vaani.
This is him. This is how he is. Not everyone expresses things like you do.
Don't expect filmi reactions. You anyway even told him before the marriage that you don't want all of this — now what happened?
Her heart still dipped anyway.
The car rolled smoothly through the city streets, the skyline glowing faintly in the distance. Dhruv drove with that same calm precision, his hands steady on the wheel, his profile unreadable in the orange glow of passing streetlamps.
Finally, the car pulled into their apartment complex. He parked neatly in front of the lobby. Vaani opened the door and got out slowly, adjusting the bag on her shoulder. She glanced back, expecting him to do the same. But he stayed seated, hands still on the wheel.
She frowned slightly. "You aren't coming?"
He looked at her, his expression calm as ever. "I just need to grab dinner. I ordered food for us since I figured we'd be back late."
Her brows lifted in surprise. "Oh."
"Don't worry," he said, his tone steady, practical. "I'll come home soon."
She gave him a little nod, lips pressing together. "Okay."
Closing the door gently, she stepped back as he drove off, tail lights glowing red until he turned out of sight. She stood for a moment at the entrance, staring at the space where the car had been. Then she let out a breath and walked toward the lift.
Inside, the emptiness of the apartment greeted her.
She dropped her bag onto the couch and leaned against it, feeling that hollow ache again.
It's fine. It's fine, Vaani. Don't make this bigger than it is.
He's just reserved. He showed care in his way—ordering dinner, making sure I don't cook when I'm tired.
That's something. Maybe more than something.
So deal with it. Stop expecting fireworks.
She repeated the words to herself like a mantra, willing her disappointment to shrink.
After a few minutes, she got up and changed into home clothes—soft shorts and a loose top. She pulled her hair into a messy bun and splashed water on her face, as if washing away the sting of her earlier feelings.
By the time she padded back into the living room, she forced a small smile at the thought of food arriving soon.
Maybe when Dhruv came back, things would feel lighter again.
Maybe she could chatter about her plans with her friends for the Georgia trip, or ask about his meetings, and the rhythm would return.
She curled up on the couch, hugging a cushion, and waited.
~·~
The apartment was still when Dhruv pushed open the door, his hand balanced with takeaway bags that carried the scent of fresh food.
He slipped off his shoes neatly, set the bags on the dining table, and straightened up, his eyes scanning the room.
The living area was empty, cushions slightly dented where someone had curled up.
"Vaani?" His voice carried across the quiet.
From the bedroom came a muffled reply, "I'm coming, one second!"
He smiled faintly.
A moment later, Vaani padded out, dressed in her home shorts and top, her hair loosely tied up. She was drying her hands on a towel as she walked, clearly having just washed her face. But when her eyes fell on the table, she froze mid-step.
A small cake, its frosting glistening under the candlelight. Dhruv standing there, bouquet in hand, the faintest of smiles tugging at his lips.
She saw it — fully.
The small cake box carefully placed on the table. The bouquet he had picked up on the way home—fresh roses, lilies, and tiny sprigs of baby's breath wrapped in soft pastel paper.
It wasn't extravagant, but it was thoughtful.
Exactly what Dhruv wanted.
Her brows shot up. "What... what is this?" she stammered, blinking at him. "Is it—wait—is it your birthday? Oh God, Dhruv, I'm so sorry, I didn't even know—"
He cut her off softly. "Vaani."
Her words halted instantly. She looked at him, still confused, her mouth slightly open.
He stepped closer and extended the bouquet toward her. "Congratulations on your promotion," he said simply. "You deserve it."
For a heartbeat, her mind couldn't catch up.
This was for me? She thought.
She just stared at him, the warmth of the flowers pressing into her palms when she finally reached out to take them.
"You... what?" she whispered, almost disbelieving.
Her eyes widened, glassy with the tears threatening to spill.
Inside, she had convinced herself he hadn't cared—that his congratulations earlier were just polite words.
She had told herself to stop expecting anything more.
And yet here he was, standing with a bouquet and a cake, proving her wrong in the quietest, most Dhruv way possible.
Her lips curved into a trembling smile. "Dhruv..." she breathed. "Thank you."
He tilted his head slightly toward the cake. "Go on. Cut it."
She nodded, unable to stop smiling now, and walked to the table with him beside her. Her hands shook as she picked up the knife, glancing at him once, then at the candles. She closed her eyes for a second, whispered a small prayer under her breath, and cut into the cake.
She scooped up a small bite on the knife, turned, and held it out to him. "Here."
He leaned forward without hesitation, taking the bite.
She chuckled when a bit of frosting smeared at the corner of his lip.
Before she could point it out, he picked up another piece and held it out to her.
She took it with a grin, savoring the sweet, soft sponge, and then both of them laughed softly at the silliness of sharing bites over such a simple cake.
When the laughter faded, she set the knife down and looked at him, her voice gentler this time. "Thank you for this, Dhruv. I thought..." She hesitated, biting her lip before continuing, "I thought you didn't care."
His brow furrowed slightly, as if the idea itself was strange. "Why wouldn't I?"
She blinked, caught off guard by the simplicity of his answer. No long explanations, no dramatic words. Just that steady certainty. And suddenly, she didn't know what to say. So she shook her head lightly, hiding the truth in a smile. "No reason."
But her heart was swelling.
Before she could stop herself, she set the flowers down on the table and stepped forward, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. She clutched him tightly, as if anchoring herself to the reassurance he had just given without even realizing it.
For a second, Dhruv stilled, but then a small smile crept onto his face. He hugged her back, one arm snugly around her shoulders. His other hand, however, wasn't idle—he angled his phone up slightly.
Vaani turned her head against his chest, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. "What are you doing?"
He chuckled, caught red-handed, and showed her the phone. "Sending a picture to your in-laws. Proof that I actually celebrated you properly."
She pulled back slightly, laughing despite herself. "You're impossible."
"And you're dramatic," he countered, amused, lowering the phone.
She shook her head, still smiling, the earlier sadness completely erased. Her chest felt lighter now, her joy bubbling back stronger than ever. She picked the bouquet back up and gave him another grateful look. "Really, Dhruv. Thank you."
He was amused, his lips quirking in that understated way of his. "Come on," he said, gesturing toward the dining table. "Let's have dinner before it gets cold."
She nodded quickly, still glowing with happiness. The cake sat between them, half cut, the flowers filling the room with a fresh fragrance, and for the first time since morning, Vaani felt fully seen. Fully celebrated.
And all it had taken was Dhruv's quiet way of saying: I care.
The table was set casually — takeaway containers opened and spread between them, the little cake pushed off to one side, the bouquet of flowers still lying where Vaani had placed it, adding a gentle sweetness to the air.
Dhruv had pulled out plates and spoons, and now the two of them sat across from each other, food steaming, the flicker of the candles still lingering like a reminder of the small celebration.
Vaani tucked into her pasta first, taking a big bite and sighing contentedly. "Ohhh, this is so good. Whoever invented pasta deserves a Nobel prize."
Dhruv, halfway through serving himself some biryani, raised an eyebrow, lips twitching. "A Nobel prize?"
"Yes!" she said, mouth still full, waving her fork in emphasis. "Do you know how many people pasta saves? Bad day? Pasta. Good day? Pasta. Celebration? Pasta. Heartbreak? Pasta." She gestured dramatically, the fork nearly flying out of her hand. "Universal solution. Better than therapy."
Dhruv shook his head slightly, but the corner of his mouth lifted in amusement. "Right. Remind me to send an email to the Nobel committee."
She grinned, not missing the sarcasm, and then leaned back in her chair, chewing thoughtfully. "You know, I've been thinking..."
He hummed, finally taking his first bite.
"...Now that I've got this week off, I don't want to just sit around. I mean, yes, resting is nice, but this feels like such a rare thing. I should do something with it, right?"
"Like what?" he asked, tone neutral, but his gaze lifted toward her, curious despite himself.
She brightened. "Well, for starters, I want to spend some time with Aai and Baba. They've been fussing so much about the reception, and I barely get time with them. Maybe I'll spend a night at home, or at least the whole day. Vihaan's around, and Vedant too, so it'll be fun."
Dhruv only nodded, letting her talk.
"And then," she continued, already leaning forward, her fork pointing at him like a baton, "I really want to finally finish that art piece I started months ago.
Remember the canvas with the half-done skyline I mentioned to you sometime?
I don't know if I mentioned it but if I didn't then — there's a canvas with a half-done skyline.
It's been sitting there gathering dust. This is the perfect chance! "
His lips curved faintly. "So, pasta and painting."
"Don't mock me," she said, eyes narrowing in mock offense. "I'm serious. I've been dying to just put music on and paint without worrying about deadlines. It's therapeutic."
He only raised his hand in surrender, silently encouraging her to go on.
"And," she went on, scooping another bite, "I'm going to read. I've had two books on my bedside table for weeks. Every night I tell myself, 'Today I'll start,' but by the time I finish office work, I just collapse. But now—" she stretched out the word dramatically, "—I have the time."
"Books, painting, pasta. Sounds like quite the revolution," Dhruv murmured.
She rolled her eyes, though the smile never left her face.
"You're impossible. And you know what else?
I'm going to meet the girls before our trip.
We need a pre-trip session. Outfits, plans, accessories—it's not something you do last minute.
You wouldn't understand, but coordination is very important. "
"Clearly," he deadpanned, sipping his water.
She ignored his tone and leaned closer, eyes sparkling as if she were letting him in on a secret. "And you know what? I've been thinking of taking Aai shopping too. She always shops for everyone else and never herself. Maybe I'll drag her out one day."
Dhruv's fork paused mid-air. The smallest of smiles flickered across his face—soft, hidden, but unmistakable. He didn't comment, but she noticed the slight curve of his lips, and it warmed her.
"And maybe," she added thoughtfully, "I'll even try cooking something new. Not because I have to, but just for fun. Maybe a new dessert. Something exciting."
He glanced at the little cake still on the table and gave her a knowing look. "Trying to outdo the bakery?"
Her eyes widened. "Oh please, no one can beat bakery cakes. But homemade has a different charm." She tilted her head at him. "Unless you're scared I'll burn the kitchen down."
"Statistically speaking..."
"Dhruv!" she gasped, laughing, swatting the air between them.
He chuckled quietly, not denying it.
Vaani leaned back in her chair, finishing another bite of pasta, her thoughts clearly racing ahead. "Oh! And since I've got the cabin now at work, I was thinking of redecorating it a little. Nothing crazy, just a few personal touches. Plants maybe, or a photo frame. You know, make it mine."
His gaze lingered on her a moment longer than necessary, but he stayed silent, simply listening.
"And—oh wait!" she said suddenly, eyes widening. "Do you realize this is perfect timing? I can actually plan Ria's bachelorette properly without stressing over work. Imagine how much smoother everything will go."
He only nodded again, chewing slowly, his silence more indulgent now than anything else.
"And you know what else?" she started again, almost bouncing in her seat now, the words spilling out effortlessly. "I can finally go get those earrings I've been eyeing for months. I kept putting it off because I felt guilty spending too much money shopping and with Vihaan and everything...."
She paused for a second remembering Vihaan's fees, until Dhruv's eyebrows gestured her to carry on, as if saying don't think about that.
And so, she continued, "but now—" she lifted her fork like a flag, "—I have no excuse. I'll take Simran with me, she'll love it."
She was radiant, her hands constantly moving, her eyes sparkling with every new idea.
Across the table, Dhruv didn't interrupt.
He didn't cut in with opinions or suggestions.
He just sat there, eating at his steady pace, occasionally taking a sip of water, his eyes flicking to her face every few moments.
The sound of her voice filled the room, light and animated, replacing the earlier silence he hadn't realized he disliked.
By the time she was done listing out her ideas, her plate was empty, and she leaned back in her chair with a sigh, rubbing her stomach. "Okay, I officially ate too much."
Dhruv finally set down his fork, his plate cleared too, and leaned back slightly, his gaze still steady on her. "So," he said quietly, "painting, books, shopping, cooking, bachelorette planning, and pasta. Quite the free week."
She grinned sheepishly, brushing hair from her face. "What can I say? I don't like sitting still."
He only nodded, the amusement still tucked in his eyes, and she caught it.
"What?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.
"Nothing," he said simply, standing to gather the plates.
She squinted suspiciously at him, but then laughed, getting up to help him anyway. Inside, though, her heart was warm. Because even if he hadn't said much, he'd listened to every word. And that, in its own way, felt like the loudest response of all.
"So," he said suddenly, breaking the calm. His voice was smooth, low, carrying just the right hint of amusement. "Where do you accommodate your husband in all this?"
Vaani looked up at him.
Her fork, which she'd still been holding idly, clinked against her plate as her hand stilled. She looked at him, eyes wide, caught entirely off guard. For a moment, she wasn't even sure she'd heard him right.
"My... husband?" she repeated, as though tasting the word for the first time, eyes searching his face for any trace of jest.
Dhruv raised an eyebrow, lips curving faintly. "Yes. Husband. That would be me, in case you forgot."
She blinked, heart stumbling in her chest. "I... I didn't think you wanted to..." She trailed off, her voice shrinking against the weight of her own admission. Her gaze dropped to her lap, fingers fidgeting with the edge of her top.
For a moment, he just watched her. Then he leaned back in his chair, sighing quietly, as though her answer both amused and exasperated him. "If I didn't want to," he said, his tone deliberate, "why would I ask?"
Her breath caught.
The weight of those words pressed into her, unexpected, intimate. He didn't linger, though—he rose from his chair fluidly, gathering their plates with practiced ease, breaking the intensity of the moment.
Vaani sat there, still stunned, as he carried the plates into the kitchen. She pressed her palms against her thighs, trying to steady the strange rush inside her. Butterflies, warmth, nerves—all of it colliding at once.
She heard the clatter of dishes, the running water, his movements calm and measured. He returned a few moments later with a cloth, wiping down the table methodically. She watched him silently, her throat dry, her mind running wild.
Finally, as he straightened up, she found her voice, and the energy was back. "Acha okay okay!" she said, a grin forming at her lips as she straightened herself. "Tomorrow. After work. I'm all yours."
He stilled, mid-step, and looked at her.
His eyes locked onto hers, dark and steady, and for a heartbeat, the air between them tightened.
He leaned just slightly closer, close enough that she could catch the faintest hint of his cologne—warm, grounding, familiar.
Then, slowly, deliberately, the corner of his mouth curved upward into something that wasn't quite a smile—it was sharper, edged with mischief.
"You're already all mine," he said.
The words landed like a spark in her chest.
Her lips parted, but no sound came.. His gaze lingered on her a moment longer, then, with a faint smirk, he pulled back and turned away, picking up the leftover containers to put them in the fridge.
She turned her head to watch him, moving calmly about the kitchen, completely unaffected—or at least appearing to be.
He was efficient, precise, sliding the food neatly into the fridge, wiping his hands on a towel, his face composed as though he hadn't just flipped her entire world upside down with one sentence.
She bit her lip, shaking her head slightly, still smiling to herself in disbelief. How did he do this? How did he manage to be so composed while she sat here falling apart over a single sentence?
Speechless. Breathless. Utterly undone.
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Guys — literally spending midnight editing, writing and uploading chapters. It's getting kinda weird now so just get like one regular comment. Not wanting to put targets for chapters but I'm not too far off from considering it.
It's only fair that way!