65
The drive back from the airport felt heavier than the one going there.
At least when he'd been driving her, Dhruv had the chatter of her friends, their laughter bouncing around the car, and Vaani's occasional teasing remarks to fill the silence. Now, it was just him, the hum of the engine, and her words replaying in his head.
"Enjoy your peace, Dhruv. You deserve it."
The way she had said it—too soft, too weighed down—didn't sound like her usual playful teasing.
Vaani was always dramatic when she teased, her tone full of mock exaggeration, her smile quick to follow.
But this? This had felt different. She had hugged him tighter than she usually would, smiled faintly, and walked away before he could reply.
He pulled into the parking space at home, leaned back in the driver's seat for a second, and rubbed his face. What did she mean by that?
Inside, the apartment looked exactly the same as when they'd left just hours ago, but it felt strangely still.
Too still. He changed out of his clothes and thought maybe he'd get a little more sleep—she had dragged him out of bed at two in the morning after all.
But when he lay down, eyes closed, the silence pressed against him.
He turned once. Twice. The bedsheet felt colder on her side. He tossed, shifted his pillow, tried to force his mind to shut off, but her voice crept back in.
"Enjoy your peace, Dhruv."
With a frustrated exhale, he swung his legs off the bed and decided sleep wasn't happening.
By 6:30, he was at the gym. The familiar clang of weights, the pounding music, and the rhythmic burn of movement usually grounded him. But today, every rep seemed to be counting down to the same question: What did she mean?
He warmed up on the treadmill, eyes fixed on nothing in particular, his thoughts circling back to the family lunch.
That was the last day she had been her unfiltered self around him.
Before that lunch, Vaani was... Vaani. Chatty, full of energy, laughing at her own jokes, never holding back from poking at his quietness.
After that lunch? She was quieter. Measured.
Almost as if she was pulling herself back.
So something must have happened there.
He slowed down the treadmill and let the memory roll out in his head. He'd arrived with her, they'd been greeted warmly, Jaya had been fussing over Vaani like always, and Mahesh had cracked some light jokes. Everyone had congratulated Vaani on her promotion. She'd been smiling, glowing even.
Then Geeta Aatya and Ashok Kaka arrived.
He remembered Vaani touching their feet.
Ashok had smiled warmly. Geeta had been polite but reserved—that was her nature anyway, he thought.
No one had said anything sharp in front of him.
Lunch had been normal, filled with conversation.
He remembered Vaani talking freely about her work, her projects.
She'd been bubbly. He'd even caught himself watching her a few times, amused at how she had everyone listening.
Then... what?
He picked up weights, started a set of presses, his mind running alongside his muscles.
Jaya wouldn't have said anything to hurt her—that was impossible. His mother adored Vaani, treated her like her own daughter. Mahesh, too, was too straightforward and kind to ever make Vaani feel small. Dad? No chance. His father had been proud, encouraging.
That left Geeta and Ashok.
He paused mid-rep. Geeta. She wasn't cruel—not openly at least—but she had always been sharp with her opinions. Even when he was a kid, he remembered her little remarks. Not insults, but those cutting observations disguised as concern. She was never the warmest person, unlike Ashok.
Could she have said something to Vaani when no one else was around?
He set the weights down harder than he meant to, earning a glance from the guy working out next to him. Dhruv ignored it.
The thought bothered him more the longer he turned it over. He trusted Geeta and Ashok. Ashok was soft-spoken, balanced. But Geeta... yes, maybe Geeta.
But if she did say something, why didn't Vaani tell him? Why was she keeping it to herself?
He sighed, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the towel slung over his shoulder. Maybe he was overthinking. Maybe Vaani's quietness had nothing to do with the lunch at all.
Could it be me?
The thought hit harder than he expected.
Had he done something? Was she pulling away because of him?
He replayed their recent days together: him shrugging off her jokes, his silence when she wanted chatter, the times he was too tired and she was bubbling with stories. He never complained, but maybe she thought he minded.
Her words at the airport came back like a sharp echo. "You'll enjoy the silence, Dhruv. You deserve it."
Did she think he wanted her to be quiet? That he preferred her silence?
He grabbed a water bottle and sat on the bench, staring blankly at the wall of mirrors.
He couldn't remember one time he'd told her to stop talking.
Sure, he wasn't the most vocal person, but he didn't mind her chatter.
In fact, her voice filled the spaces he never knew felt empty until she'd moved in.
Why would she think otherwise?
He went back further, combing through every moment of that family gathering, every glance, every small exchange. Nothing stood out. Nothing explained why she would suddenly grow distant.
The unanswered puzzle gnawed at him. He finished his workout without realizing it, his body moving through the motions while his mind was somewhere else entirely.
By the time he walked back into the apartment, the sun had risen, golden light spilling into the quiet rooms. He stood in the doorway, dropping his gym bag by the sofa.
Her shoes were neatly lined up where she'd left them.
Her scarf was still draped over the chair from the night before.
Small reminders of her filled the house, but it felt. .. hollow without her.
He rubbed his jaw, pacing slowly. He hated not knowing. He hated that she didn't feel she could tell him whatever was bothering her.
One thing was clear, though: something had shifted in her since that lunch. And until he figured out what, the distance between them would only grow.
The apartment felt too quiet when Dhruv came back from the gym.
He set his keys on the counter and headed straight for the shower, hoping the hot water would wash away the heaviness pressing on his chest. For a few minutes, the spray drowned out everything—the silence, the replay of Vaani's words, the restless confusion circling in his head.
But when he stepped out, wrapped in a towel, it was back. The same emptiness.
He dressed quickly, pulling on a soft t-shirt and track pants, and padded barefoot into the kitchen. Breakfast, he decided, maybe that would anchor him. He wasn't hungry, not really, but his body needed the rhythm of routine.
He cracked two eggs into the pan, the sizzle filling the silence, and made himself some toast. The smell of chai leaves hit the air as the water boiled.
For a moment, he let himself imagine Vaani's voice behind him, teasing him for how "seriously boring" his breakfasts were, then laughing at her own comment.
He swallowed hard, focusing on flipping the eggs.
When he sat down at the table, plate in front of him, the loneliness hit stronger. The other chair looked too empty. He had eaten alone before marriage, countless times. But today, after two months of having her there every morning, it felt wrong.
He picked at his food, eyes drifting to the phone propped against the table. The flight tracker app was open. Vaani's flight had been taxiing while he cooked, and now the small plane icon had finally lifted into the air.
He stared at it for a long while until the status changed to In Flight.
Only then did he release a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.
He leaned back in his chair, feeling a strange mix of relief and hollowness.
At least she was safe. At least she was on her way to something she was excited about. That much was good.
But then what was this restless gnawing in him?
He pushed his plate away and carried the dishes into the sink. The water ran warm as he washed up, letting the mechanical motion occupy his hands while his thoughts spiraled.
Work. Yes, work would be a distraction. He had meetings scheduled.
He opened his laptop at the dining table and logged into his calls.
The familiar buzz of office talk—targets, reports, numbers—pulled him in, but not enough.
Every time there was a pause, his mind slipped back to Vaani's faint smile at the airport, the way her voice had dipped when she said he deserved the peace.
The laptop pinged with another email, and at the same time, his phone buzzed. It was his mother.
"Hi, Mom," he answered, trying to keep his voice light.
"Hi, beta," Jaya's warm voice filled the silence of the apartment. "Did Vaani leave?"
"Yeah," he said, glancing at the tracker again even though he knew the flight was already mid-air. "Her flight took off just a little while ago."
"That's good. I called her at the airport, but we didn't talk much. Did you drop her at the airport?"
He smiled faintly. "Yeah. Me and her friends went together."
There was a pause, then his mother asked, "She was very excited about this trip, na?"
Dhruv hesitated. "Yeah, she was." But not with me, he almost said.
Instead, he cleared his throat and said, "Mom, can I ask you something?"
"Of course, beta. What is it?"
"When you spoke to Vaani yesterday... did she seem... off to you?"
"Off?" Jaya repeated, sounding thoughtful. "Not really. Just tired, maybe. She was less chatty than usual, but I thought it was because she was busy with packing and work. Why?"
Dhruv rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't know. She's just... quiet these days. Even with me. Like she's talking less."
"Oh." Jaya's tone softened. "Don't worry too much, Dhruv. Maybe it's just travel stress. She was handling so many things—work, the packing, planning with her friends. Sometimes women pull back a little when their heads are full. It doesn't mean anything."
"Hmm," Dhruv said. He wanted to believe that. He wanted to accept the explanation and let it go. But the unease in his chest didn't loosen.
"Listen," Jaya continued, her voice gentle, "don't stress yourself over it. Let her have her trip. She'll come back rested and cheerful, I'm sure."
"Yeah," Dhruv murmured. "Maybe."
"And you," Jaya added, her tone shifting with a touch of motherly firmness, "what will you do now? Stay there alone for four days? It's been a while since you came home, Dhruv. Why don't you come spend the weekend with us? You'll get good food, you won't be alone, and it'll be nice for everyone."
He froze for a second. Going home hadn't crossed his mind. He'd planned to stay back, maybe catch up on work, maybe just laze around. But the thought of sitting in this quiet apartment for four days straight, surrounded by her absence, felt unbearable.
"You're right," he said slowly. "I'll come over. Maybe for the weekend."
Jaya's smile was almost audible through the line. "Good. Come by this afternoon if you can. Your father will be so happy to see you. I'll make your favorite lunch."
He felt the corners of his mouth tug into a small smile. "Okay, Mom. I'll be there in a few hours."
"Perfect. Drive safe, beta. See you soon."
"See you."
The call ended, and Dhruv stood in the kitchen for a moment, staring at the sink full of water droplets.
He had agreed easily, but it wasn't just about not being alone.
A part of him wanted to quietly observe, to see if he could piece together what Vaani wasn't telling him.
Maybe someone had said something at the family lunch that he hadn't noticed.
Maybe his mother, his father, or... Geeta.
He didn't know. But being there might give him clarity.
He shook his head and forced himself back to the present. One step at a time. He had a meeting starting in ten minutes.
He quickly cleaned the remaining dishes, wiped down the counter, and set up his laptop again at the table. The hum of his colleagues' voices filled the apartment once more, but beneath the professional talk, Dhruv's mind was set: he would figure this out.
Vaani might be far away in another country right now, but her silence had followed him home. And he couldn't rest until he understood why.
~·~
The plane wheels screeched against the runway, jolting slightly before slowing into a smooth taxi.
A ripple of excitement passed through the group as Ria, Simran, and Kavya all exchanged grins.
Vaani, pressed to the window, could already feel the rush of having landed somewhere new.
Georgia. The trip they'd been planning for weeks was finally real.
By the time they cleared immigration and collected their luggage, their laughter was echoing through the arrivals hall. They were tired, of course—none of them had really slept on the flight—but the adrenaline of being together, away from work and routine, was enough to carry them forward.
"Cab first, nap later," Simran announced, waving her phone with the booking details.
Within minutes, they were loading their bags into the trunk of a large cab.
The driver smiled at their energy, adjusting the music as he began driving them towards the city.
Vaani leaned her head back against the seat, scrolling through her phone, snapping photos out the window.
Snow-dusted mountains in the distance, the wide roads lined with quaint houses—it was all so different from home.
By the time the cab pulled into their villa driveway at around 11 a.m., the group was buzzing again.
The villa was bigger than they'd expected—charming, with whitewashed walls, bright windows, and a small patio.
Best of all, it had enough bedrooms for each of them to have their own. Cheap, fun, and private—it was perfect.
The girls quickly assigned their rooms, dragging their bags up the stairs in bursts of laughter and mock complaints about who got the best view.
"Okay," Ria said once they'd all gathered in the living room again, collapsing on the sofa dramatically. "We're officially dead. Nap now, life later."
"Sightseeing at 4?" Vaani asked, already calculating the time they'd need to shower and get ready.
"Done," Simran said. "Alarm at 3:30, girls. Don't be late."
Everyone groaned in mock unison, but the plan was set.
Vaani slipped into her room, shutting the door quietly behind her. It was simple but cozy—soft white curtains swaying with the breeze, a balcony overlooking the street below, and a bed that looked far too inviting. She sat down for a moment, exhaling. Then instinctively, she reached for her phone.
First came the photos from earlier—her friends lined up at the airport, all wearing the matching denim jackets with "Brides' Besties" sprawled across the back.
Ria wearing her "Bride-to-be!" jacket. She smiled at the memory of forcing them into the jackets despite their playful protests. She posted that as her first story.
Next, the view from the plane—endless clouds, tinted pink with sunrise. Then a shot of her villa room, the little balcony catching the morning light. She added a caption with a few emojis and hit "share."
Her phone pinged almost immediately with notifications. Friends, cousins, colleagues—all reacting, cheering her on for finally taking the trip. But one notification made her pause.
Dhruv liked your story.
Vaani stared at the screen for a moment, her chest tightening. She hadn't even thought about how quickly he might see them. And yet, of course he would. She could almost imagine him back home, scrolling through her updates.
Sure enough, her phone buzzed again. A message from him.
Dhruv: Reached?
Her fingers hovered for a second before she typed back.
Vaani: Yes, just now. Settled in the villa.
Almost instantly, the typing dots appeared.
Dhruv: That's good. How was the flight?
Vaani: Smooth. We had fun, no delays.
Dhruv: Good to hear. Villa looks nice.
She smiled faintly, realizing he must've already seen her room photo.
Vaani: It is. Cozy. We each have our own rooms.
Dhruv: Smart. So what's the plan?
Vaani: We'll nap now. We didn't sleep at all in the flight because of the excitement! We'll sleep and then sightseeing later. You?
Dhruv: At Mom and Dad's. Just watching TV with them.
Vaani: That's nice. They must be happy.
There was a pause, and then he replied:
Dhruv: Yeah. Mom's already planning a feast.
She chuckled softly, imagining Jaya fussing over him. It made her oddly relieved—at least he wouldn't be alone, not entirely.
For the first time in days, the conversation between them felt.
.. normal. No heavy silences, no clipped answers.
Just simple, easy words exchanged across countries.
Vaani felt lighter talking here. Greta's words didn't come in front of her directly.
Maybe it was the distance, or maybe it was because she felt he didn't have to hear the weight in her voice through messages.
She could type without hesitation here, without fearing how it sounded.
Dhruv could leave whenever he wanted to — he didn't need to stay for the entire convo.
She scrolled back through the chat, noticing how much lighter her replies looked compared to how she'd been at home. It made her smile but also pinch with guilt. Why could she only sound normal when she was far away?
Her phone buzzed again.
Dhruv: Don't nap too long or you'll miss the sightseeing.
She grinned, typing back:
Vaani: Don't worry, the girls won't let me.
Dhruv: Enjoy, Vaani. Have fun.
Vaani: I will. You also.
She hesitated before hitting send but forced herself to. There was no need to drag him into her heaviness right now.
Putting the phone aside, she lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. The air smelled faintly of lavender, and the quiet hum of traffic drifted in from outside. Slowly, her eyes fluttered shut, and the exhaustion of travel pulled her into a nap.
Meanwhile, back in Dubai, Dhruv was sitting cross-legged on the sofa in his parents' living room. The TV was playing some family drama, but he wasn't watching. His phone was still in his hand, open to Vaani's stories.
He chuckled again at the denim jackets—so typically her, pulling everyone into her little creative ideas. Then he swiped to the plane photo, then to her room view. It made him feel strangely close, like he was seeing what she was seeing, sharing the trip in some indirect way.
He remembered her excitement while packing, her debates over which dresses to take, the way she had hugged him at the airport. That hug had lingered in his chest.
"Beta, what's funny?" Jaya's voice cut in.
He looked up. "Hmm? Nothing, Mom. Just... Vaani posted some photos."
"Oh," Jaya smiled knowingly. "Send them to me later. I want to see."
"Okay," Dhruv nodded, putting the phone down.
But even as he turned his attention to the TV, his mind stayed elsewhere. On her smile in those pictures. On how she seemed fine—chatting with her friends, posting happily. And yet, the words she'd left him with at the airport refused to leave his head.
Enjoy your peace, Dhruv. You deserve it.
He shook his head lightly, forcing himself to focus on the here and now. She was safe. She was happy. That should be enough for now.
~·~
Dhruv had gone upstairs to his old room with the idea of lying down for a while, maybe scrolling on his phone until his thoughts quieted. But the opposite happened. The more he tried to distract himself, the more her words replayed like a loop in his head.
Enjoy your peace, Dhruv. You deserve it.
There was no teasing lilt in her tone when she said it. No playfulness. It had sounded almost like a confession. He sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, staring at the carpet.
Did I do something? He went back over the last few days, searching for clues. Nothing stood out—he hadn't raised his voice, hadn't ignored her, hadn't dismissed her ideas. She'd spoken to him normally on messages after landing. If she was upset with him, would she still text so easily?
Maybe it wasn't about me, he thought, leaning back against the headboard. Maybe it's something else. But then why did she say it to me, like I was better off without her noise?
Before he could spiral further, the sharp ring of the doorbell echoed downstairs. Dhruv frowned, pushing himself up.
"I'll get it," he called, heading down the stairs.
When he opened the door, he blinked in mild surprise. "Geeta Aatya, Ashok Kaka. Hi."
Geeta smiled warmly, clasping her dupatta tighter around her shoulder. "Dhruv! How nice to see you. Our stay got extended a few days."
Ashok added with his usual booming laugh, "and your mother refused to let us book a hotel. Said we had no choice but to stay here for the next few days."
Before Dhruv could respond, Jaya appeared behind him, her face lighting up. "Welcome, welcome! Finally. You should have come sooner."
"Arre, we had some delays," Geeta said, stepping inside as Dhruv politely moved back. "But now we're here for a while."
Dhruv chuckled softly, shutting the door behind them. "Nice to see you all again."
The living room soon filled with their voices, Mahesh coming out from his study to join. The house, which had been quiet for the past few hours, now buzzed with overlapping conversations.
Ashok set his suitcase aside and stretched out on the armchair. "So, how is everyone? Jaya, you look healthier than last time. What are you eating these days?"
Jaya laughed, waving him off. "Nothing different. Just less stress since the reception went well."
Geeta added, "And Dhruv, you look the same. No tiredness, that's good. How's work treating you?"
Dhruv smiled politely. "Busy as usual. But manageable."
Mahesh sipped his tea. "This boy has always been steady. Never complains."
Ashok grinned. "Unlike me. I make sure everyone knows when I'm tired." The room burst into laughter.
For a while, the conversation drifted across random topics—traffic in Mumbai, how expensive air tickets had gotten, some family cousin's engagement, a temple visit they were planning.
Dhruv contributed when needed, nodding, chuckling at the right moments.
But beneath the casual exterior, his mind was working overtime.
He was studying everyone, every word and gesture, trying to detect even the smallest detail that might explain why Vaani had been so quiet lately.
Then, midway through a sip of tea, Ashok turned to Jaya. "By the way, is Vaani still at work? Haven't seen her since we got here."
Dhruv's spine straightened almost imperceptibly.
"No, no, she's not here," Jaya replied easily, setting her cup down.
Geeta tilted her head. "Oh? Where is she then?"
"She's gone to Georgia for her friend's bachelorette," Jaya said, her voice tinged with amusement. "They left this morning."
Ashok chuckled heartily. "Oh, how fun! Georgia is beautiful this time of the year. The vineyards, the mountains—ah, she'll love it."
Mahesh nodded. "She showed us a few photos just this morning. It looked lovely already."
"Yes," Jaya added with a smile. "The girls all wore matching jackets. So cute."
Geeta's lips curved in a small frown, unnoticeable to most, her eyes held a look that Dhruv couldn't quite read. "Interesting," she said softly, almost to herself.
Dhruv's gaze flicked toward her instantly, his instincts sharpening. There it was—a detail, a note in her tone that he couldn't ignore.
He didn't react outwardly, though. He simply leaned back slightly, pretending to sip his tea while his mind worked furiously. Interesting. What had she meant? Was it just a throwaway comment, or did it connect to something deeper?
He glanced at Mahesh, who looked relaxed, genuinely happy about Vaani's trip. Jaya was glowing, clearly proud to talk about her daughter-in-law. Ashok was his usual jovial self, no hidden edges in his laughter.
But Geeta—her words had been measured, deliberate.
Dhruv forced himself to focus on the conversation again as Ashok launched into a story about a cousin's wedding in Pune. The others laughed at his exaggerated retelling, Jaya shaking her head at his dramatics. Dhruv joined in, smiling faintly, but inside, his mind kept circling back.
Geeta and Vaani. Something had happened there, he was sure of it now.
The way Vaani had grown quiet, the timing aligning right after the family lunch, and now Geeta's small remark—subtle, but telling.
She had met most of his relatives and never lost her smile, but meeting Geeta and Ashok, something changed.
It couldn't be Ashok — who was still busy talking about different areas Vaani and her crew could visit. It is definitely not Jaya and Mahesh.
That leaves only... Geeta.
He stole another glance at Geeta. She was listening to Ashok with a calm expression, nodding occasionally.
On the surface, she looked harmless, warm even.
But Dhruv knew better than to dismiss his gut.
He'd built a career on noticing the little things others missed, on piecing together patterns that seemed invisible.
And right now, all the patterns pointed toward her.
He didn't press the thought out loud—yet. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, letting the conversation wash over him, all the while cataloguing every detail, every word.
If Vaani wouldn't tell him, he'd have to figure it out himself.
He was sure something happened, but what was it?
??