59
The morning sun stretched into their apartment in lazy golden slants, lighting up the living room with a soft glow.
Vaani had already showered, her hair tied up loosely in a bun, dressed in one of her breezy kurta-style tops paired with soft cotton pants.
She padded into the kitchen humming under her breath, switching on the stove to make chai.
The fragrance of cardamom and ginger soon began to fill the space, comforting, homely, unmistakably hers.
Just then, the main door clicked open. Dhruv walked in, his post-workout look familiar now—plain black tee damp at the edges, joggers hanging loose, gym bag slung casually on his shoulder. His hair was slightly tousled, face glistening from the run he'd probably just finished.
Vaani looked up from the stove, her face brightening instantly. "Dhruv! Good morning."
He paused, surprised not by her greeting but by the way she said it—light, easy, with a kind of relaxed glow he was slowly getting used to. His eyes softened, amused. "Hi, Vaani."
It wasn't dramatic, just simple. Yet something in the way his lips curved faintly as he said it made her stomach feel strangely light.
He disappeared into the bedroom for his shower, and within minutes came back in home clothes—grey cotton tee, loose track pants, barefoot, hair damp from the wash. His presence settled into the apartment naturally, like he belonged to the rhythm of her mornings now.
By then, the chai was ready. She poured two steaming cups, careful not to spill, and walked into the living room.
Dhruv was already seated on the couch, scrolling lazily through his phone.
Without looking up, he reached to the side and, as he always did, moved one of the cushions away from his side of the couch.
The gesture was wordless, habitual now. But Vaani noticed. She always did.
She smiled faintly to herself, understanding the silent invitation, and lowered herself onto the space beside him, setting their cups on the table. She slid him his cup, and he accepted it with a murmured "thanks" before taking a careful sip.
For a few moments, the two of them just sat there—no background noise, no TV, just the sound of them sipping chai and the occasional clink of the cup on the saucer. It was strangely comfortable, the silence. Not the awkward kind. The kind that settled softly, like a blanket.
But of course, silence never stayed too long around Vaani.
She stirred in her seat, taking a longer sip before leaning back into the couch. "So," she began, drawing out the word with dramatic flair, "guess what I'm doing today."
Dhruv glanced at her from the corner of his eye, his mouth twitching. He placed his cup down and sank a little deeper into the couch, his arm lazily stretching across the backrest. He knew this tone. This was the "today's monologue" tone.
He let out a small sigh of mock-resignation, his lips curving into that almost-smirk. "Saang," he said. (Tell.)
Her eyes lit up at his reply, the little slip of his tongue into her language never failing to make her grin.
She tucked her legs beneath her, turning slightly toward him, her energy already bubbling.
"Okay, so you know how all my girls are working from home these days?
Like, none of them are tied to their office desk right now, everyone's flexible.
So we thought—why not meet today? Just, you know, take our laptops and chill together.
Work plus gossip plus food, all in one."
Dhruv sipped his chai again, eyes on her but his expression calm, neutral, as if bracing himself for the inevitable torrent. "Hmm."
"And," she continued, her hands animated now as she explained, "we haven't met properly since the day trip, except on calls. It's always 'camera off, I'll ping you later' or 'wait, wait, I'm in a meeting.' It's not the same! Meeting in person, laughing together—that's a whole different vibe."
Dhruv nodded slightly, his lips pressed against the rim of his cup, pretending to be entirely engrossed in chai while actually listening intently.
"And we thought," she went on, "why not make it a mini pre-bachelorette warm-up for Ria? Because you know na, once she gets busy with her wedding prep, toh poora schedule khatam. And we'll hardly get her to ourselves. So this might be one of the last chill days."
Dhruv set his cup down, leaning his head against the couch cushion, eyes half-lidded. "Hmm," he said again, in that same non-committal tone.
Vaani narrowed her eyes, a little playful irritation creeping in. "What is this 'hmm hmm' business? You're supposed to react."
He turned his face toward her slowly, deliberately, and raised an eyebrow. "Am I?"
"Yes!" she said firmly, her hands flying up. "If I tell you a plan, you can't just nod like an old baba meditating. You have to participate."
That earned her a quiet chuckle—low, short, but it made her blink because it was rare for him to give in like that.
"Okay," he said, sitting up straighter. "So where's this world-shaking gathering happening?"
She grinned triumphantly at pulling an actual answer out of him.
"Simran's place. It's big, central, and her mom makes the best pakoras, so that's settled.
We're going to set up our laptops in her living room, and the plan is—morning work, then lunch, then we'll pretend to work again but obviously gossip.
Then maybe some shopping if time allows. "
He gave her a long, steady look, lips twitching as though he was holding back a remark.
"What?" she asked, half-smiling.
"Nothing." He picked up his cup again. "Just... you've already mapped out the entire day down to fake work."
"Exactly!" she said proudly. "Efficiency, Dhruv. Efficiency."
He shook his head slightly, muttering under his breath, "Hurricane."
She caught it this time, narrowing her eyes at him, but she was smiling. "I heard that!"
"You were meant to," he replied, calm as ever.
And just like that, she launched into the next detail—about how she was planning to take her new kurta, how she wanted to wear it because the girls hadn't seen it yet, how she might also carry some snacks because Simran always forgets, how maybe they'd order dessert later...
Dhruv leaned back again, sipping his chai, the radio silence from earlier replaced by the steady hum of her voice filling every corner of the living room.
He didn't even realize when his shoulders relaxed, when his mind drifted into that strange rhythm he was beginning to crave—the rhythm of her yapping.
He reached across without looking, switched off the low TV noise he'd unknowingly left playing in the background. She didn't notice. Her voice was enough.
The living room was warm with late morning light now, the chai half-finished, and Vaani was still mid-rant, hands waving, voice lilting, as though the world itself depended on her narration of who was bringing what for their girl-gang mini work-from-home party.
"And then I told Ria—listen, if you don't get napkins, don't even bother showing your face, because last time remember? We had coke spills everywhere and no one had tissues. Disaster! And Simran is too laid-back to care so—"
A buzz cut through her flow.
Dhruv's phone, lying on the armrest. A work notification. His eyes flicked down out of habit, scanning the preview. Something urgent about the project update. His thumb hovered over the screen.
For a second, his instincts urged him to type back. Work usually demanded immediate attention, and he rarely gave himself leeway. But Vaani's voice pulled him back in like gravity, dragging him into the warmth of her chatter.
He let the screen dim back to black. Later. He could handle it later.
He shifted, leaning an elbow on the couch arm, turning his head so that he was looking at her again.
Her face was animated, eyes sparkling as she carried on about the menu, who would sneak in wine bottles, and how one of her friends was going to be "fake working" while actually editing pictures for Instagram.
"...I swear, Dhruv, half the time these girls are pretending, but it's fun pretending together na? You wouldn't get it—"
He raised one eyebrow, mildly. "You're assuming a lot."
She waved her hand dismissively, grinning. "Arre please. You're way too serious for this nonsense. You'd be like, 'focus on work,' and we'd be like, 'shhh, let us breathe.'"
His lips twitched but he didn't argue. She was probably right.
After a while, she drained the last sip of chai and stood, dusting her hands together. "Acha chalo, I'm gonna go change." She blinked at him, brows knitting slightly. "Do you not have office today?"
He looked back at her, smirking as though catching her in a slip. "Yes I do."
She nodded in acknowledgment, then disappeared into her room.
Dhruv shook his head faintly, leaning back on the couch. There was something almost... ridiculous about the way she juggled things—her promotion, her chatter, her family, her friends. And yet, it worked. Somehow, it all worked around her.
When she reappeared, she was dressed in the most casual of ways—simple white tee tucked into blue jeans, hair loosened around her shoulders, a tiny silver stud in her ears. There was no overthinking, no layers of effort, but she looked... light. Different.
He caught himself watching her for a moment longer than necessary, before he pushed himself up with a quiet sigh and went into the room to change.
By the time he returned, he was in crisp office formals—white shirt, dark trousers, sleeves folded neatly up his forearms. He slipped his watch on while walking back into the hall, glancing at her.
"So," he asked, almost casually, "how will you go?"
"Oh, Ria's picking me," she said easily, grabbing her small sling bag from the dining chair. "She'll honk, and I'll just run."
He nodded once, adjusting his cuff. "Okay. Well... I'll head out now then."
She turned to him, smiling in that unrestrained, open way that always seemed to catch him off guard. "Have a nice dayyy."
The way she dragged the word, her voice full of pep, made him pause in the act of slipping his phone into his pocket. He looked at her with narrowed eyes, half suspicious, half amused.
"Did you mix vodka in your chai?" he asked dryly. "Why are you so energetic?"
Vaani gasped dramatically, hand over her heart. "Excuse me! This is called being happy, Dhruv. Maybe you should try it sometime."
He rolled his eyes, but there was unmistakable amusement tugging at the edge of his lips. "Right. Happiness. Got it."
She pouted playfully, sticking her tongue out at him before giggling to herself. He shook his head once more, muttering something inaudible as he slung his laptop bag over his shoulder.
At the door, he paused, glancing back at her one last time. She was fiddling with her phone, probably already texting the girls. Her whole posture screamed excitement, her shoulders light, her eyes bright.
"Alright," he said simply, "enjoy."
She looked up, grin widening. "I will."
And then he stepped out, closing the door behind him, the faintest ghost of a smile still lingering on his face.
Vaani was pacing around the living room, phone in one hand, bag slung over her shoulder, scrolling through their group chat as the pings rolled in one after another.
Ria: Downstairs. Hurry up!
Simran: Bring snacks. I know you've hidden something in your fridge.
Naina: Omg finally! Girls' dayyyy.
Vaani chuckled, typing back a teasing reply, but before she could hit send, her phone buzzed again. Ria this time, more insistent.
Ria: Vans. Come. Now. I'll honk again. Your security is already giving me the look.
She sighed, half-laughing, and called out to herself, "Alright, alright, coming!" She locked the apartment door, checked the handle twice out of habit, then skipped down the stairs, the sound of her flats echoing faintly.
The moment she stepped out of the building, she spotted Ria's car parked right by the curb. The window rolled down and Ria leaned out dramatically, waving.
"Madam designer!" Ria teased. "Finally blessing us with your presence?"
Vaani rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her grin as she slid into the passenger seat. "You're acting like I kept you waiting for hours."
"You did. Mentally," Ria shot back with a smirk as she pressed the accelerator.
The ride to Simran's house was filled with chatter, music blaring from the car speakers, and bursts of laughter every few minutes.
Vaani felt the ease of it all—no deadlines, no emails, no pressure.
Just friends, a free afternoon, and a bubbling excitement that felt like it had been missing for weeks.
When they reached Simran's place, the door was already wide open. Naina stood in the entryway, phone in one hand, waving frantically with the other.
"Finally! You're here!" Naina squealed as soon as Vaani and Ria stepped out. "Come in, come in! I've already claimed the beanbag."
Inside, Simran's living room looked like a cross between a café and a sleepover zone. Cushions and blankets were scattered everywhere, snacks spread across the coffee table, and someone had lit a candle that smelled like vanilla.
"This," Vaani said dramatically, dropping onto the couch, "is exactly the vibe I needed."
Simran tossed her a cushion. "Then give me gossip, madam. How's life post-promotion?"
Vaani's grin widened, the warmth of her friends' curiosity making her beam. "Don't even get me started—actually no, get me started because I'm going to talk about this all day."
The girls laughed, leaning in, hanging on to her words. They were excited for her, genuinely happy, teasing her about how "boss lady Vaani" was going to order them around on the trip now. The room was filled with a steady hum of voices and laughter, like an orchestra of joy with no pauses.
Meanwhile, across the city, Dhruv's day was unfolding in a completely different tone.
He walked through the glass doors of his office, laptop bag slung neatly, shirt crisp, expression calm but unreadable. Yet the moment he entered the main floor, a small ripple of voices followed.
"Congrats, sir."
"Brilliant job with the deal."
"Couldn't have gone smoother."
He nodded politely, offering small smiles, handshakes here and there, never over-the-top, always understated.
It was his way—acknowledge, thank, and move on.
But inside, there was a quiet pride simmering.
The project had been a tough one, months in the making, negotiations stretching late into nights. And now, it was closed. Successfully.
As he stepped into his cabin, his assistant followed with a folder, updating him on the next steps. Dhruv listened, gave clear instructions, then sat down at his desk. The office hummed outside his glass walls, but inside, it was calm.
He pulled out his phone for a second, glancing at the notifications. No new messages from Vaani. He wasn't sure why he noticed that, or why his thumb hovered on her chat window before he locked the screen and slid it away. Work demanded focus now.
And yet... his mind replayed that moment from the morning, her chirpy "have a nice dayyy" ringing in his ears, the brightness of her grin etched like sunlight on glass.
He shook his head slightly, forcing his attention back to the documents in front of him. But the faintest smirk tugged at his lips, betraying the calm exterior for just a heartbeat.
Back at Simran's house, the girls were sprawled in every direction—Ria cross-legged on the floor with a bowl of chips, Naina on her beanbag, Simran with her legs thrown over the couch arm, and Vaani perched upright, animated as ever.
They were planning again. Georgia, the outfits, the playlists for the trip. Every five minutes someone would yell over another, and it was chaos, but the kind that stitched hearts closer together.
"Okay, okay, serious talk," Ria said suddenly, slapping her hand on the table. "Airport looks. Matching or no?"
"Oh my god," Naina groaned. "Here we go again."
Vaani raised her hand, eyes sparkling. "Already solved. Don't worry. I've got us covered. Those teeshirts will come in time — I called them to make sure they don't delay us."
Her friends groaned in unison, but they were already grinning, knowing Vaani wasn't going to let this over-the-top idea go without being unveiled.
The laughter, the easy banter, the excitement—it all filled Vaani up in a way that felt lighter than air. For the first time in a long time, she wasn't carrying the heaviness of responsibility on her shoulders. She was just Vaani. Friend. Daughter. Wife. And now—senior designer.
And across the city, behind his composed office desk, Dhruv was still yet to realize how much that brightness of hers had started spilling into his otherwise measured life.
~·~
The sun had already begun to set when Dhruv finally leaned back in his office chair, closing the last file of the day.
The deal was signed, the congratulations had quieted down, and for once his desk wasn't stacked with urgent calls and papers.
He rubbed his temple lightly, exhaling. Most of the office floor had already emptied; only a faint murmur of voices lingered in the distance.
He picked up his phone almost instinctively, thumb hovering over her name. He had checked it more times than he wanted to admit that day. Vaani had been busy with her friends. He knew that. Still, the quietness on his end felt... longer. Louder.
Finally, he hit the call button.
The dial tone stretched. Once. Twice. Three times. By the fifth ring, his brows had begun to furrow. Six. By the seventh, just when he was about to hang up, her voice finally came through.
"Hello?"
His voice softened despite himself. "Vaani."
There was a pause, as if she'd straightened up a little before answering, "Yes, Dhruv. Bolo."
"Where are you?"
"At Simran's place," she replied, the sounds of muffled chatter and laughter trailing faintly behind her. "Why?"
"No reason," he said quickly, though his mind had already supplied the truth—that tiny flicker of restlessness when she hadn't answered immediately, the quiet wondering about what had kept her. But he brushed it away before it showed in his voice.
There was a small silence. He glanced at his reflection in the darkened office window, almost amused at himself. Then, casually, he asked, "Anyway, should I come to pick you up?"
On her end, the chatter dulled as though she'd walked into another room. The line went quiet. For a second too long. He wondered if she'd heard him.
Then softly, she said, "Okay. Sure."
His grip on the phone shifted, and something about the softness in her tone tugged at him. "Send me the address," he said.
"Yes, I will."
And that was it. No teasing, no questions. Just her agreement. He hung up, staring at the screen for a beat longer than necessary before sliding it into his pocket.
Moments later, her message pinged in—Simran's address pinned neatly. He opened the maps. Estimated time: 45 minutes.
Dhruv exhaled, almost in a sigh. "Fine," he muttered under his breath. "Let's go."
He collected his keys, jacket folded over his arm, and walked through the near-empty corridors. His polished shoes echoed against the tiles, the rhythm steady, his mind already halfway down the road.
The evening traffic greeted him the moment he pulled out of the basement parking. Red brake lights stretched endlessly down the road, a glowing river of impatience. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel once before settling into the lane.
Forty-five minutes.
He rarely minded long drives. They were his place of quiet, a way to think, or sometimes to stop thinking altogether. But today his thoughts were stubborn. Circling.
Why had she taken so long to answer? Was she too caught up with her friends? Laughing, talking, maybe not even noticing his call until the screen flashed the seventh ring?
He shook his head slightly, almost amused at himself. Since when did it matter? She'd picked up. That was enough.
He rolled down the window slightly, letting the evening air seep in.
The hum of the city surrounded him—horns, the faint echo of music from another car, the murmur of people crossing streets.
But inside his car, it was just him, the GPS's voice chiming directions, and the thought of her waiting at the end of this drive.
Traffic crawled. He leaned back into the seat, one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting loosely by the gear. He shook his head, eyes flicking briefly to the clock on the dashboard. Still thirty minutes to go.
He tapped the steering wheel, settling into the rhythm of waiting.
He didn't quite know why he'd offered to pick her up.
It wasn't a habit, not something they did often.
But when she'd said she was at Simran's place, the thought of her taking a cab back home alone after hours with her friends—he simply hadn't liked it.
The words had left his mouth before he'd even reasoned them out.
And now here he was, in the middle of traffic, heading her way.
He leaned back, eyes flicking again to the map glowing faintly on his phone. Forty-five minutes. And somehow, despite the sigh he'd let out earlier, the drive didn't feel like a burden. It felt inevitable. Natural, almost.
As if picking her up was exactly where his day was supposed to end.
The drive had taken nearly the full forty-five minutes, just as the map had predicted.
By the time Dhruv turned into the lane of Simran's apartment complex, the sky was settling into a velvet shade of blue, the faint glow of streetlamps flickering to life.
He parked just outside the main gate, drumming his fingers lightly against the steering wheel.
He pulled out his phone and typed: "Downstairs. Come when you're done."
The reply came a minute later. "Okay, give me 5 mins."
He exhaled, leaning back into the seat. He wasn't in a rush. He could wait.
The city outside hummed—car horns, scooters zipping by, a faint jingle of laughter from a group of children playing nearby. Dhruv rested his arm on the open window ledge, eyes flicking toward the entrance every now and then.
Ten minutes passed. He had just leaned forward to adjust the radio when his ears caught something—a voice carrying across the parking lot.
High-pitched, animated, filled with laughter.
He didn't even need to check. That voice was unmistakable.
Vaani.
He chuckled under his breath, his hand automatically switching off the radio, as if instinct told him her chatter was all the noise he needed. He tilted his head slightly.
And then he saw them—four girls walking down the steps of the building, their laughter bouncing in the air.
Ria was in the middle, animatedly saying something, while Naina and Simran walked alongside, her hands moving wildly with gestures.
And there, slightly behind them, with her phone in one hand and waving the other animatedly, was Vaani.
She spotted his car almost instantly, her eyes lighting up.
"Dhruv! Hi!" she called out, waving like a child spotting someone at the school gates.
The corner of his mouth tugged upward despite himself.
Her friends noticed too, and almost in unison, chimed, "Hi!"
Dhruv rolled his window down a little more, giving them a polite nod. His eyes settled on Ria for a moment. "Congratulations on your wedding," he said, his tone even but warm enough.
Ria's face broke into a wide grin. "Thank you! You two have to come."
He raised an eyebrow, amused, and with the faintest smirk, replied, "Will try my best."
Ria chuckled, elbowing Simran as if to say, see how he is. Simran only grinned knowingly.
Vaani, already halfway to the passenger door, threw him a glance, "Of course we're going! Don't listen to him, Ria."
The girls laughed again, and with quick hugs exchanged, Vaani finally slid into the passenger seat, closing the door behind her.
"Bye!" she called through the rolled-down window as Dhruv started the engine.
"Bye!" the chorus came back, followed by more laughter.
And then it was just the two of them, the hum of the car filling the space as Dhruv pulled onto the main road.
Within thirty seconds, Vaani had turned to him, her eyes shining with leftover excitement.
"You know what, Dhruv? Today was so much fun.
Like seriously. We went on for hours. Ria was showing us her outfit options, and you know Simran—she has opinions about everything.
Naina kept insisting on this one shade of lilac, and oh my God, the drama of that whole discussion. .."
Her voice filled the car, fast-paced and alive, painting pictures of everything he hadn't seen.
He didn't interrupt. He didn't need to. His hand rested steady on the wheel, his eyes on the road, but his ears... his ears were hers.
She kept going, yapping on about the snacks they had, the playlist that somehow devolved into a Bollywood versus English music debate, and how they'd almost forgotten the actual planning in between all the laughing.
Every so often, she'd turn slightly in her seat, her hand lifting animatedly to emphasize her point.
Her bracelets clinked softly, her earrings catching the streetlights.
And Dhruv, without realizing it, found himself adjusting the speed just a little slower, as though giving her more time to say everything she wanted before they reached home.
"...and then, oh God, listen to this—Ria suddenly says, 'Guys, do you think my fiancé would mind if we had a spa day right before the wedding?' And Simran goes, 'Forget him, would your skin mind?' We all laughed for like five minutes straight. I swear, I haven't laughed this much in ages."
Her laughter bubbled over again, contagious, though Dhruv only allowed himself a small curve of lips. Still, the quiet warmth in his chest lingered.
She glanced at him briefly, catching his expression. "You're not even reacting!"
He smirked, keeping his eyes on the road. "You're doing enough reacting for both of us."
"Haww," she gasped dramatically, clutching her chest as though mortally wounded. "Rude. Very rude."
He chuckled softly under his breath, shaking his head.
But she wasn't offended. If anything, it only fueled her further, her chatter picking up with renewed vigor.
She showed him the pictures they had taken—some candid, some posed, some completely ridiculous. She even scrolled to the one where all four of them wore matching headbands they'd randomly ordered off an online store, laughing so hard that her voice cracked while explaining the backstory.
And Dhruv? He listened. Quietly. Patiently. As though the traffic, the long workday, the tiredness in his shoulders—all of it had melted into the background the moment she sat in the car.
Her voice carried them home.
By the time they reached home, the sky had deepened into full night, the faint hum of the city below their balcony carrying up with the warm breeze.
Vaani unlocked the door while Dhruv carried the bag with the dinner leftovers.
They stepped in together, the familiar quiet of the apartment immediately wrapping around them.
Vaani kicked off her sandals by the shoe rack, letting out a small sigh. "Finally home," she muttered, stretching her arms.
Dhruv locked the door behind them, setting the bag down on the counter. "Go change," he said casually.
She rolled her eyes. "Yes, boss," she teased, before padding off toward the bedroom.
When she returned ten minutes later, she had changed into soft cotton shorts and a pale lavender tee, her hair loosely tied up in a bun. Dhruv, already in his old track pants and a black t-shirt, was pouring himself a glass of water in the kitchen.
They didn't even need to speak. She took one look at him, then reached for her own bottle and gulped down a few sips. Their movements were easy now, practiced even in silence.
They'd barely sat down on the couch when Dhruv's phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, saw "Mom" flashing, and answered immediately. "Hello, Mom," he greeted, leaning back into the couch.
"Arre Dhruv, beta," Jaya's warm voice came through. "How are you? How's Vaani?"
Dhruv turned his head slightly, meeting Vaani's curious gaze. "We're good, Maa," he said, his tone softening. "Vaani's here too, she's fine."
"Good, good," Jaya replied, a smile audible in her voice. "Listen, tomorrow Geeta vaihini and Ashok dada are coming over. They'll be staying with us for a bit. So I was thinking, you two come for a little while, haan? Just to welcome them properly."
Dhruv's eyes automatically shifted to Vaani. She was curled up on the other end of the couch, her knees tucked in, watching him. He raised an eyebrow slightly, silently asking. She nodded almost instantly, her expression open, as though to say of course.
Dhruv turned back to the phone. "Yeah, sure Maa. We'll be there."
"Ah, very good," Jaya said, clearly pleased. "Come by after lunch, hmm? That should be a good time."
"Okay," Dhruv agreed.
They exchanged a few more pleasantries—how work was going, whether they'd eaten—and then Jaya finally said, "Alright then, beta. I'll see you both tomorrow. Give my love to Vaani."
"Bye, Maa," Dhruv said, before ending the call.
When he lowered the phone, Vaani tilted her head. "Geeta vaihini and Ashok dada?" she asked softly.
Dhruv nodded. "My aunt and uncle. They're... decent. A little traditional, but you'll be fine."
Her lips curved faintly upward. "You're sure?"
He smirked slightly, the kind of half-smile that always seemed unbothered. "If you can survive me, you can survive anyone."
"Haww," she said, feigning offense, clutching a cushion dramatically to her chest. "You think you're that difficult?"
He arched a brow at her theatrics, clearly unconvinced by her fake indignation. "I know I'm that difficult."
She chuckled, tossing the cushion at him. He caught it without effort, shaking his head, but there was a small smile tugging at his lips now.
They let the conversation drift into small things after that—about her day, about his work.
She yapped about Simran's house, about the silly headbands they'd worn, about how Naina had tripped over her own sandals and nearly spilled a bowl of popcorn everywhere.
Dhruv only listened, occasionally throwing in a dry one-liner that either made her groan or laugh harder.
Time slipped by quietly, the clock ticking softly in the background.
Eventually, she stifled a yawn mid-sentence, her hand covering her mouth. "Ugh. I'm sleepy," she admitted, her words muffled.
"Then sleep," Dhruv said simply, rising to his feet. He switched off the lamp on the side table, leaving only the hallway light on, and then offered her a hand.
She hesitated for half a second before taking it, letting him pull her up from the couch. Their fingers didn't linger, but she felt the strength of his grip before he let go.
They walked into the bedroom together. She moved toward her side of the bed, fluffing up the pillow, while he went to set his phone on the nightstand.
For a moment, there was just the quiet shuffle of movements—her pulling the comforter, him checking the AC remote, the sound of drawers opening and closing softly.
Finally, they both settled under the blanket. Vaani curled up onto her side, her back facing him, her hair spilling over her pillow. Dhruv lay on his back, staring at the ceiling for a few moments before closing his eyes.
It wasn't dramatic, it wasn't loud. But in the stillness of that shared space, there was a strange kind of comfort. The comfort of knowing that tomorrow, they'd face family introductions together. The comfort of her steady breathing beside him.
Vaani's eyes fluttered shut, exhaustion taking over. And Dhruv, hearing the soft even rhythm of her breath, finally allowed himself to drift off too.
The house, quiet and calm, seemed to exhale with them.
??