69
Morning sunlight spilled into Vaani's office through the tall glass windows, catching on the steel partitions and bright screens.
She had been at her desk since 9, earbuds in, hair pinned up in a neat clip, and her laptop glowing with the design software she lived in.
Her hands moved quickly, smooth strokes on the trackpad as she finalized the last set of edits for a client's campaign.
The team was buzzing—people laughing near the coffee machine, a discussion going on two desks away about a pitch, someone tossing a stress ball in the air.
But Vaani? She was in her own little bubble.
Today she felt lighter than she had in weeks.
She was smiling without realizing it, humming a faint tune, and even her colleagues noticed.
"Someone had a good trip," her teammate teased as she passed by.
Vaani just laughed softly, shaking her head.
"It's just the caffeine working." But inside, she knew it wasn't the coffee.
It was the conversation with Dhruv, the way he had handled the mess she'd been carrying.
The way he hadn't dismissed her feelings.
He'd actually listened, and then made space for her again—without demanding, without dismissing.
And that smile he'd given when she teased him in the morning still hovered in her mind. The thought made her cheeks warm, and she quickly ducked back into her work before anyone noticed.
By noon, her designs were polished and sent. She leaned back in her chair with a little sigh of accomplishment and checked her phone, scrolling absently. Just then, her screen lit up—And coming Call: Jaya Aai.
She straightened instantly. "Aai," she greeted softly, already smiling into the receiver.
"Hi beta, what's up?" Jaya's warm, affectionate voice came through.
"I'm at the office, just wrapped up a project," Vaani said, still light.
"Good, good," Jaya replied, and then her tone shifted into the usual casual insistence. "Acha, suno. Why don't you two come over for dinner tonight? Geeta and Ramesh are here too. It'll be nice if you and Dhruv stay the night also. Your parents are coming, and it'll be a full house."
Vaani froze, the words hitting her like cold water. Dinner. With Geeta.
Her fingers gripped the edge of her desk.
Her heartbeat picked up, memories of that family lunch flooding back—the words, the weight of silence she'd been carrying.
She wanted to say no, to avoid the evening altogether.
But how could she? Saying no would raise questions. Saying no would prove Geeta right.
So she swallowed, forcing her voice steady. "Okay, Maa. We'll be there."
"Great! I'll tell your father. See you in the evening."
The call cut.
Vaani let out a long, slow sigh, her shoulders slumping. She stared at her desk, telling herself over and over: It's just one night. Just hear whatever, smile, let it go. Don't give her anything more.
She picked up her water bottle and sipped slowly, then turned back to her work, trying to lose herself in colors and layouts again. But the thought pressed at the back of her mind like a dull headache.
Meanwhile, in another office across town, Dhruv's phone lit up with Jaya's name. He answered with his usual low, even tone. "Yes, Mom."
"Beta, why don't you and Vaani come home for dinner tonight?" Jaya began, the same enthusiasm in her voice. "Geeta and Ramesh are here, Vaani's family too. It'll be fun, a full house."
At the mention of Geeta, Dhruv's jaw tightened. His first instinct was to refuse outright. "Maa, I don't think—"
But Jaya cut him off. "Vaani already agreed. So you two coordinate and come, hmm? It'll be nice."
He shut his eyes for a moment, the words striking harder than he expected. Vaani agreed? He wanted to protect her from exactly this, and yet she'd said yes. His grip on the phone tightened.
"Okay," he said finally, voice clipped. "We'll do that. See you."
He ended the call and immediately tapped Vaani's number. The phone rang twice before she picked up.
"Hello?" Her voice was calm, maybe even a little cheerful.
"Why did you say yes to going for dinner?" His tone was sharper than usual, low but edged.
There was a pause. "What?"
"The dinner at mom and dad's place," he said. "Why did you agree? You know she'll be there."
Vaani sighed, her throat tightening. "Dhruv, I can't just say no. Do you want to prove her words right? That I'm a house breaker?"
For a second, Dhruv went utterly still. Her words echoed in his ears—house breaker. He felt his chest tighten, his jaw clenching so hard it ached. That she had even internalized such poison made his blood boil.
He closed his eyes, exhaling slowly through his nose. "Fine."
"Dhruv—" she started, hearing the edge in his tone.
He only hummed in response, rough and noncommittal.
"It'll be okay," she said softly, trying to soothe, though her own chest was tight.
His shoulders loosened a fraction. He softened, just slightly, for her. "Yeah."
A minute of silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken things. Finally, Dhruv broke it with a quiet, "I have a meeting."
"Same here," she said quickly. "See you."
He cut the call.
The phone dropped onto his desk with a muted thud. He leaned back in his chair, staring at the window, the city lights glittering in the distance. His jaw clenched again, pulse steady but sharp.
Her words replayed in his mind like a curse. House breaker. Ruining silence.
He hadn't realized how deep the wound went until now. And the fact that she was still carrying it... he wanted to storm into that house already, strip the mask off Geeta, and end this nonsense once and for all.
But instead, he sat there, staring at the glass, forcing himself to breathe. His fists flexed, unclenched. Tonight, he thought grimly, would not pass quietly.
~·~
By two in the afternoon, Dhruv had wrapped up his last email, closed his laptop, and leaned back in his chair.
The office around him was still buzzing—phones ringing, keyboards clattering—but his mind wasn't here anymore.
His inbox was clear, the deck submitted, and the only thing looming ahead was the evening.
He drummed his fingers once against the desk, then muttered under his breath, "Screw this."
In one smooth motion, he packed his laptop into his leather bag, slid his phone into his pocket, and stood. Within minutes, he was in the car, engine humming low as he drove through the city. His expression was calm, almost blank, but his grip on the wheel was a shade tighter than usual.
The familiar gates of his parents' house came into view, the garden still lush and meticulously kept. He parked, stepped out, and walked up the front steps with the same unhurried stride he always carried. His bag slung on his shoulder, his face unreadable.
The bell hadn't even finished ringing when the door opened. Jaya stood there, a bright smile blooming. "Dhruv! You're here early."
"Yeah," he said, his voice even. "Work's done, so I thought I'd come."
Jaya beamed, stepping aside to let him in. "Good, good. Your father's inside. Everyone will be so happy."
From behind her, a voice chimed in, warm and practiced. "Arre, Dhruv. Nice to see you."
Geeta.
She stepped forward, her sari pleats sharp, her smile perfectly placed. Dhruv's jaw tightened for a fraction of a second, but his face smoothed over just as quickly.
"Nice to see you too," he said politely, his tone measured.
He stepped in, slipping off his shoes, placing them neatly by the rack. Geeta tilted her head, her voice carrying just enough casual sweetness. "Where is Vaani? She didn't come?"
Dhruv glanced at her, his expression calm. "It's 2:30. Everyone's at work. Including Vaani."
"Oh," Geeta said lightly, though her brows lifted ever so slightly. "You made time to be here with us, Dhruv. She could have also, na?"
The words were loaded, wrapped in sugar but meant to sting. Dhruv's lips curved into the faintest smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"True," he said evenly. "But Vaani has deadlines. I'd rather she focus on her work than sit here half-distracted. Anyway, one of us showing up early is more than enough, isn't it?"
The reply landed softly, almost harmlessly, but Geeta's smile faltered for just a second. Jaya, oblivious, ushered Dhruv inside.
"Come, sit. Lunch is coming."
The living room was already lively—Mahesh flipping through the newspaper, his booming laugh occasionally echoing; an uncle talking about the stock market; an aunt nodding vigorously at whatever was being said.
Dhruv slipped into a chair, setting his bag down beside him.
His posture was straight, his eyes quietly observing the room, every gesture controlled.
Within minutes, a plate of daal rice was placed before him.
He murmured a polite thank you, mixed it once, and lifted the spoon to his lips.
The conversation swirled around him—family updates, neighbor gossip, politics.
Dhruv contributed when necessary, brief and to the point, his voice never rising, never faltering.
But Geeta, he noticed, kept glancing his way, as if testing waters, as if waiting for an opening. He gave her nothing. Only civility, the kind that was harder to pierce than silence.
When the room's laughter peaked over a joke, Dhruv casually picked up his phone, thumb flicking across the screen. He typed a quick message:
Dhruv: I'm already at the house. Tell me when you're free, I'll come pick you.
It didn't take long for her reply.
Vaani: I have my car, Dhruv.
His jaw tightened slightly. He typed back, fingers quick.
Dhruv: Leave it at the office. I'll drive you back.
A pause. The dots blinked. Then:
Vaani: Arre Dhruv, I'll come. Don't worry.
He stared at the screen for a beat, exhaled through his nose. Then typed:
Dhruv: Okay. Fine.
The phone buzzed almost immediately.
Vaani: ??
The corner of his mouth softened just a fraction before he set the phone face down on the table. His attention drifted back to the conversation at hand.
"So, Dhruv," Mahesh boomed, "how's work going? Always buried in files, haan?"
"Work's steady," Dhruv replied simply. "Keeps me busy. That's the point."
Polite laughter circled the room.
Geeta spoke then, her tone honeyed. "Still the same serious Dhruv. You should relax more. Life isn't only about work."
Dhruv met her eyes briefly, his gaze calm but unblinking. "Relaxation depends on the company, doesn't it?"
A few people chuckled at that, assuming he meant something light. Geeta's smile wavered again, just slightly.
The talk shifted. Jaya fussed over the snacks, uncles argued amiably over cricket, someone's phone rang with an old Bollywood ringtone. Dhruv sipped his tea, his presence steady, unshakeable.
On the surface, it was just another family afternoon. But beneath it, a storm quietly coiled tighter inside him, waiting.
~·~
Vaani's message popped onto his phone just as the living room quieted into the mid-afternoon lull.
Vaani: I'm going to the house to change and bring my night clothes. You want anything?
Dhruv leaned back in his chair, glancing around. His father had dozed off with the newspaper open across his chest. Jaya was stretched on the sofa, eyes closed but still humming softly to herself. Even Ashok, who could normally talk endlessly, had surrendered to the heaviness of a post-lunch nap.
His thumb moved over the screen.
Dhruv: No. I have a set of everything here.
Almost instantly, her reply came.
Vaani: Okay.
He stared at the message a moment longer than necessary, then locked the phone. Two hours, he thought. That's how long before she'd be here. He would have to deal with this before then.
The quiet of the house was thick, broken only by the faint hum of the AC and the occasional rustle of someone shifting in their sleep. Dhruv stood, moving with a steady unhurriedness toward the hall. His steps took him past the corner toward the kitchen, and that's when he saw her.
Geeta.
She stood at the counter, pouring herself a glass of water, the overhead light catching the shimmer of her bangles. When she turned and spotted him, her smile bloomed immediately, smooth as ever.
"Hi, Dhruv," she said brightly. "How are you?"
He stopped a few feet away, leaning one hand lightly against the edge of the counter. His face gave nothing away. "I've been better."
Her brows pinched together, concern sliding into her features. "What's wrong, Dhruv? You've been behaving very odd today."
Dhruv let out a faint hum, the kind that wasn't agreement but acknowledgment. His gaze never left her. "Hmm. I wonder... maybe it's because I live with a nonstop talking machine, and that's eating my head. Right, aatya?"
Her grip on the glass faltered just slightly. Her smile slipped. "W–what?" she stammered.
Dhruv's eyes sharpened, his voice even but cutting.
"Next time you want to share your... kind words about my wife, try doing that when she isn't in the room next to you.
Not when she's folding sheets, making your bed comfortable for your stay, while you tear her apart behind her back. "
The kitchen suddenly felt smaller. Geeta set her glass down too quickly, the sound clinking against the counter. "Beta, I—"
He lifted a hand, not to silence, but to cut clean through her excuse.
"I really respect you, Aatya. Always have.
But this... this crossed a line." His eyes hardened.
"I don't think you'd take it kindly if family spoke like this about Varun's wife someday.
Whenever he marries. So why do you think you have the right to point at mine? "
Geeta's throat worked as she scrambled. "Dhruv, it wasn't like that. Her family didn't even come for the lunch, and she—she just keeps talking, nonstop. I was only—"
"So I could point the same label to you when you prioritized Varun's new house. What should I say to you, aatya, when you skipped my wedding because you were settling Varun in the US? Varun is a 25 year old man, going for his job. Why did you need to go with him? He could have gone alone."
Geeta's face froze as the reality hit in front of her.
Dhruv's lips curved in the faintest humorless smirk.
"And nonstop talking, haan? Last I remember, over the weekend when I stayed here, even you were recounting your college stories for over an hour.
" His voice dipped lower. "If Vaani's chatter is an issue, should I say the same to you? Should I complain that you never stop?"
Her mouth opened, then shut. The words didn't come.
"How is it acceptable that you can talk freely," Dhruv continued, his tone precise, scalpel-sharp, "but not her?"
"Because she's the... daughter-in-law," Geeta tried weakly, latching onto the only defense she had.
"And you're supposed to be like her mother," Dhruv countered immediately, his voice a fraction harder now. "You're supposed to make her feel at home. Not label her a home breaker."
The words landed heavy. Geeta froze, the color in her face dimming.
"Beta, I... I just said that because you two live separately," she whispered.
Dhruv's jaw flexed. He took a measured breath before replying. "Did you ever try to inquire why that came to place? No, you didn't." His gaze bore into hers. "Let me tell you. It was mom and dad who suggested it. Not her. Not me. Them."
Geeta blinked rapidly, her lips parting as though to form another excuse, but Dhruv didn't pause.
"If you remove the blind hate from your eyes, you'll see something else too." His voice dropped lower, almost a warning. "You'll see that Vaani and mom are actually closer than I am with mom right now. And that's saying something."
The silence stretched. For the first time, Geeta's eyes fell to the floor, guilt creeping in.
Dhruv straightened, stepping back just enough to put distance between them, though his voice carried weight like iron.
"You're older than me. You've partially raised me.
You're family and you only said it: I value family and adjust for them.
That's the only reason I kept this private.
" His words slowed, deliberate. "But next time—this won't stay private. "
She looked up quickly, her face stricken. "Beta, I—"
"If you can't see yourself liking Vaani, then stay away from her," he said flatly. "You have no rights to destroy her peace. Not even her own family does. Certainly not you."
The silence that followed was sharper than any shout could have been.
Dhruv's gaze held hers for one final beat, unrelenting.
"Mind your words. Private and public. Think of if it was your daughter and if her in-laws behaved this way with her.
How would that feel? Vaani's voice had cut to half listening to your words.
She wasn't talking, she thought I didn't like her chatter — and mind you, you do not speak for me.
I decide what I like and what I don't, and I'm telling you clearly today: I enjoy her chatter.
So next time, don't mask your hatred for her under my name.
You don't have to love Vaani, but she's done nothing to deserve your hate. "
Her lips trembled, but no reply came.
After a long moment, he leaned in just slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper that held more bite than any volume could have. "And don't think this is over until you've made amends, Aatya."
Without another word, Dhruv turned and walked out of the kitchen, his stride steady, his shoulders taut with quiet control.
Behind him, Geeta stood frozen by the counter, her glass of water forgotten, the echo of his words heavy in the still air.
~·~
The bell rang at exactly 5:30 p.m., and the quiet murmur of conversation in the living room stirred. Jaya rose first, brushing her sari's pallu over her shoulder as she walked briskly to the door.
"Vaani beta!" she exclaimed warmly as the door swung open.
Vaani smiled, tired from her workday but instantly softened by the warmth in her mother-in-law's voice. "Hi, Maa."
From behind Jaya, a tall figure appeared—Dhruv, descending the staircase, his shirt sleeves rolled up. His gaze instantly found Vaani.
"Hi," she said softly, the corners of her lips tugging upward.
"Hello," he replied, his voice steady, low. He didn't linger in place. Instead, he stepped closer, and before Vaani could shift the tote bag from her shoulder, his hand was already there, slipping it off effortlessly.
"I've got it," Dhruv said, not waiting for her response. With that, he carried the bag upstairs, disappearing toward their room.
Vaani blinked at his action, a warmth creeping over her chest she quickly masked with a small smile.
Jaya looped her arm lightly around Vaani's shoulder and guided her inside. "Come in, beta. How was work?"
"Good," Vaani replied, slipping off her shoes at the entrance. "Busy, but good."
Soon enough, she found herself on the sofa with Mahesh and Jaya, pulling out her phone to show them photos. Dhruv returned quietly, slipping into the background as his father chuckled heartily at each snap.
"Beta," Mahesh said, squinting at the phone screen before breaking into laughter, "did you see her amazing jacket idea?"
"Yes, Papa," Vaani teased, grinning. "He loves it. He even said that whenever we go on a trip, we should also get one."
From his spot behind them, Dhruv muttered, "Over my dead body."
All three chuckled. Jaya swatted her son's arm playfully. "Arre, stop sulking, it's such a cute idea!"
The mood was light—until footsteps sounded at the entrance.
Geeta and Ashok walked in.
Vaani's face fell. Just for a fraction of a second, so quick only Dhruv caught it. But by the time Geeta's eyes landed on her, Vaani had already adjusted, her lips curving politely.
"Good evening, Kaka. Good evening, Aatya," she greeted evenly.
"Good evening, beta," Ashok said warmly, his tone genuinely kind.
To Vaani's surprise, even Geeta's voice was warm, her smile just right. "Good evening, Vaani."
But Dhruv's gaze narrowed. He moved almost instinctively, crossing the room and settling into the seat beside Vaani, his shoulder nearly brushing hers. The air around him carried a silent weight—as if he was daring anyone to try something.
Vaani kept her smile on, continuing to talk about her trip, but Dhruv noticed. Her voice was mellower now, her laughter dimmer.
He leaned slightly toward her. "Vaani," he murmured.
She hummed a distracted, "Hmm?"
"I'm making chai. I need your help."
Jaya glanced at them from her seat, her eyes twinkling as she teased. "Ohh, look at this! Dhruv suddenly needs help for chai?"
He didn't react, didn't even give a smile. He just waited for Vaani's answer.
"Sure," she said softly, setting her phone aside. She rose, smoothing her kurta, and followed him into the kitchen.
The second the doorframe was behind them, Dhruv turned. "Are you fine?"
"I'm fine, Dhruv," she said, almost amused. "I just got here. I've been in front of you the entire time."
"No," he corrected quietly, pulling mugs out of the cabinet. "I was upstairs for a bit. Did Aatya say anything to you?"
Vaani chuckled, shaking her head as she leaned against the counter. "You were upstairs for a total of 3 minutes, Dhruv."
He looked at her, unsmiling, a subtle shrug of his shoulders. Then he turned back to the kettle.
"I'll go back out," she said, watching him as he measured tea leaves.
"No need."
"Why not?"
"Because—" He stopped, realizing he didn't have a neat answer. His lips pressed together.
She chuckled softly, tilting her head. "See? No answer. Chal, I'll go."
She took a step, but his voice cut in. "Wait."
She paused, turning back.
"You go outside. I'll make the chai."
Her brow furrowed. "Dhruv—"
"It's our house," he said, glancing at her pointedly. "We split the workload. You're not the only one who needs to make chai. So relax."
Her lips parted slightly. After a beat, she nodded. "...Okay. But then I'll stay here with you."
An amused look flickered over his face. "Sure."
She hopped onto the counter, swinging her legs lightly as she watched him. "You make chai like you're doing science experiments."
"That's because you make it like you're guessing lottery numbers," he replied dryly.
She gasped theatrically. "Excuse me! My chai is loved by everyone."
"Everyone doesn't include me," he said flatly, though the corner of his mouth tugged upward.
Vaani's laugh spilled out, warm, real. "Unbelievable."
The kitchen, once heavy with tension, softened. They continued in that rhythm—her yapping, him replying in his short, understated way, both entirely comfortable in the space together.
What they didn't know was that just outside, Jaya had been about to enter. She froze at the doorway, the sight unfolding before her catching her heart.
Her son stood at the stove, stirring the pot with calm efficiency, his sleeves pushed up, his profile relaxed. On the counter sat her daughter-in-law, legs swinging, eyes bright, laughter bubbling as she teased him about something inconsequential. And Dhruv—her Dhruv—chuckled. Actually chuckled.
Jaya's lips curved in a quiet smile. She stepped back silently, letting them be. Her heart felt lighter than it had in years.
Inside, Vaani peeked over Dhruv's shoulder. "Careful, don't spill it."
He gave her a sidelong look. "Do you want to make it?"
"No," she said quickly, grinning. "I like watching you."
"Of course you do."
She smacked his arm lightly, laughing again.
The kettle whistled softly, but between them, it felt like the air had settled.
For once, there was no weight of others' words, no judgments pressing in—just the small intimacy of a kitchen, a pot of tea, and the kind of comfort that only came when two people finally stopped holding themselves back.
Dhruv carried the tray out of the kitchen with his usual unhurried confidence, steam curling from the rim of each cup.
Vaani followed a step behind, quieter than she usually was, her eyes flicking around the living room before she slid into the seat beside him again.
He set the tray down, handed a cup to his father, then to Jaya, his movements steady, precise.
Finally, he passed one to Vaani without looking at her, the gesture casual but practiced, as though this was routine.
The living room hummed with soft chatter, everyone talking about random nothings—the weather, politics, the sudden rise in mango prices. Even Geeta, to Vaani's surprise, kept her tone mild, her words soft, almost careful.
The bell rang again.
"I'll get it," Vaani said quickly, setting her cup aside. She stood and walked to the door, smoothing the front of her kurta as she pulled it open.
Her entire face lit up. "Aai! Baba! Arre Vedant, Vihaan—you're here!"
Her parents stepped in first, warm smiles on their faces, followed by her two brothers, who immediately started talking over each other.
"Tai! How was Georgia? Did you see the mountains?"
"Tell me you went to that Ferris wheel place—"
"Or that waterfall!"
Vaani laughed, her arms going around each of them in turn. "Arre, one by one! I'll tell you everything."
Behind her, Jaya rose with a pleased smile. "Come in, come in. You're just in time."
Dhruv stayed seated, watching silently as his in-laws filled the space with their presence. He didn't move, but his gaze lingered on Vaani as she beamed, her face alive with warmth. There was a quiet tug in his chest at the sight.
"Oh, chai!" Vaani suddenly remembered. She darted toward the kitchen, returning quickly with the four extra cups they'd made. "Here, I'll get you settled." She handed them to her parents and brothers one by one, making sure everyone was comfortable.
The room filled quickly with chatter, voices overlapping.
"We're sorry we couldn't make it for lunch last week," Sunita said sincerely, her eyes turning toward Jaya.
"Arre, it's okay," Jaya replied warmly, waving a hand. "You were busy."
It was Geeta, surprisingly, who leaned in next. "No, no—Vihaan's application is important. It's good you were with him."
Her voice carried none of its usual sharpness. Her gaze, when it turned toward Vihaan, was softened, almost approving.
Vaani blinked, her brows lifting slightly. A ripple of confusion passed through her—this wasn't the Geeta she knew. She almost wanted to check if she'd heard correctly. But when Geeta smiled at her brother, there was no mistaking it.
Still, the edges of Vaani's skepticism remained. Her eyes drifted sideways, toward the man sitting calmly at her side, sipping his chai as if nothing in the world could disturb him.
Her gaze lingered on him, questioning, almost accusing in its curiosity.
Dhruv, without looking directly at her, let the faintest curve tug at the corner of his lips. His eyes flicked up, meeting hers for a single second. Amusement.
She rolled her eyes at him instantly, trying not to smile, then turned back to the conversation. But her heart was lighter now, because she knew. He had done something. She couldn't prove it, she didn't need to, but she knew.
"So where in the US are you going, beta?" Geeta's voice broke through again, directed at Vihaan.
"Columbia, Kaku," Vihaan answered proudly, straightening up a little in his seat.
"Oh, that's wonderful," Geeta replied with genuine delight. "My son Varun is in New Jersey. If you need anything—anything at all—don't hesitate to ask him."
"Yes, of course," Vihaan said quickly, grateful.
Ashok nodded approvingly. "That's good, Geeta. It's nice to know family is nearby. Good for Varun and Vihaan too."
Vaani stayed quiet, absorbing. The Geeta she had braced herself to face today was nowhere to be seen. And though a part of her wanted to remain cautious, she couldn't deny the small warmth spreading in her chest at the shift.
The conversation rolled on easily after that—Vedant asking Mahesh about work, Sunita chatting with Jaya about recipes, Ashok offering tips for Vihaan's move abroad. It was noisy, warm, a proper family gathering.
Vaani sat back slightly, her chai cradled in her hands, her eyes occasionally darting to Dhruv beside her. He hadn't said much, as usual, but the weight of his presence was enough. His nearness steadied her, made her feel like even in a roomful of people, she wasn't alone.
At one point, Vedant leaned toward her. "Tai, tell me you at least tried that Georgian dumpling thing. What was it called—"
"Khinkali," she supplied, grinning. "Yes, and it was amazing. You have to try it when you visit."
"Uff, now I'm hungry," he groaned dramatically.
Everyone laughed.
Jaya glanced toward Vaani, her eyes soft. The way her daughter-in-law lit up the room with her stories, the way Dhruv stayed close by without making a show of it—it made her chest warm with quiet contentment.
Through it all, Dhruv sipped his chai in silence, his expression calm. But when his gaze drifted sideways again, catching the small smile on Vaani's lips as she leaned into her brothers' chatter, there was a subtle loosening in his features.
For the first time in a long while, this felt like home.
??