87
The morning light filtered gently through the hotel curtains, illuminating the room in a soft, golden hue.
Vaani stood by the window, adjusting the collar of her simple, elegant dress.
Over it, she had draped a light trench coat, the kind that was chic but understated — perfect for a city morning and a visit that had to balance formality with comfort.
Her hair was left open loosely, just enough to keep it out of her face but still soft around her shoulders.
Dhruv, in the adjacent room, was finishing up his own preparations.
He was dressed in a crisp Ralph Lauren ensemble — the kind of effortless sophistication that always seemed tailored for him, even when he didn't try.
His shoes were polished, his belt perfectly aligned, and now he was fastening his watch, the final touch that made him look every bit the part of the composed, confident man he always seemed to be.
"Ready, Vaani?" he called, his voice cutting through the quiet of the morning, calm and steady.
She turned from the mirror, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, and nodded. "Yes, I am."
Then, for no reason she could explain, she just stared at him.
There was something about the way he looked today — calm, collected, yet effortlessly magnetic.
She found herself lingering on the details: the sharp line of his jaw, the faint smirk playing on his lips, the way his watch gleamed against his sleeve.
Dhruv noticed after a few seconds that she wasn't moving, that her gaze was fixed on him. "Take a picture, it'll last longer," he said dryly, a teasing edge in his voice.
Vaani's lips curved into a mischievous smile. "Maybe I will," she said softly. Then, without waiting for him to respond, she crossed the room and hooked her arm through his, pulling him toward the near full-length mirror.
"Smile," she instructed, her tone light but insistent. She held her phone in the other hand, ready to capture the moment.
"Vaani, no," he protested mildly, shaking his head with mock disapproval.
"Just pose," she said firmly, giving him a playful shove toward the mirror.
He raised an eyebrow, finally relenting. "Fine," he said. He draped his arm around her waist, bringing her closer to him. The proximity made her chest flutter in a way she couldn't explain, and she felt a tiny shiver run down her spine.
"Take it," he said, nodding toward her phone.
Vaani's fingers danced over the screen, capturing the image — the two of them close, framed against the soft morning light and the reflection of the city behind them. When she lowered the phone, she couldn't help but grin. "So cute," she said, her eyes sparkling.
"Mhm," he murmured, eyes lingering on her face.
She tilted her head, curiosity mingled with amusement. "What happened?"
"Nothing," he said, but his hand on her waist shifted slightly, drawing her closer, pressing her gently against the wall.
"Dhruv..." she began, but her voice faltered. "Vihaan is waiting."
He smirked, the corners of his lips lifting in that quiet, confident way that always made her knees weaken. "He can wait a few minutes more," he said softly, and before she could protest further, his lips were on hers.
The kiss was slow, intentional, a quiet grounding of all the energy and anticipation that had been simmering since morning.
When he pulled away, she opened her eyes and instinctively touched her lips.
"You smudged my lipstick," she whispered, a mixture of mock accusation and genuine amusement in her tone.
"Sorry," he said simply, smirking.
"Now fix it," she said, her tone more commanding than she intended, but he didn't protest. Instead, he tilted his head thoughtfully, pretending to consider.
"I don't know how to," he said finally, looking up at her with a small frown.
She just stared at him, incredulous, and he gave a slight shrug. "Wait," he murmured, reaching into her bag.
Vaani watched, her pulse quickening as he pulled out her lipstick.
With an almost ceremonious attention to detail, he applied it back to her lips, the subtle movement deliberate, careful, yet intimate.
His fingers brushed her face lightly as he did it, and she found herself holding her breath, simply admiring the quiet care in his actions.
"There," he said finally, stepping back just enough to give her space. "Good enough?"
She tilted her head, studying herself in the mirror, her lips perfectly restored. Then she smiled, a soft, genuine curve that made his chest tighten just slightly. "Yes," she said. "Good enough. Let's go now."
He nodded once, sharply, a silent agreement, and then extended his hand to her. "Chalo," he said.
Vaani took his hand, and they headed toward the door together. The hotel corridor was quiet, the soft carpeting muffling their steps. The air smelled faintly of polished wood and morning freshness, and the city outside hummed in anticipation, a vibrant reminder that the day had only just begun.
As they descended in the elevator, their reflections caught in the mirrored walls — two figures poised, calm, and yet unmistakably connected.
Dhruv's hand remained lightly on her lower back, guiding, steady, reassuring.
She felt the warmth of him near her and let herself relax into it, letting the morning light and the quiet intimacy of the moment settle around them.
When the elevator doors opened, they stepped into the lobby.
The hotel staff gave them polite nods and smiles, but their attention barely registered to Dhruv or Vaani.
Their focus was solely on each other — the lingering warmth of the kiss, the subtle thrill of the shared selfie, and the unspoken acknowledgment that even in these small moments, the other was always there.
Dhruv's voice cut gently through the quiet hum of the hotel. "Vihaan's waiting downstairs," he said, calm but firm.
Vaani smiled, adjusting her coat slightly. "I know," she said. "But I needed... this."
He gave her a small, almost imperceptible nod, understanding in his eyes. Then, without another word, they stepped out of the hotel doors and into the sunlight, hand in hand, ready for whatever the day had in store.
The city greeted them with its usual energy — distant honking, pedestrians moving briskly, the scent of fresh coffee and baked goods wafting from nearby cafes.
Vaani's eyes sparkled as she took it all in, but her gaze kept finding Dhruv's, and she felt that quiet comfort that came with knowing he was always a step beside her.
"Shall we?" he asked, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he gestured toward the car waiting outside.
She squeezed his hand gently, feeling a flutter in her chest. "Let's go."
And together, they stepped into the day — the world ahead buzzing with possibility, but right here, right now, in this moment, it was just the two of them.
~·~
The mid-morning air in New York carried a clean coolness that was a welcome contrast to Dubai's furnace heat.
The sky above the Columbia campus glowed a soft silver-blue, and the faint rustle of leaves from the trees lined the quiet street.
Dhruv and Vaani were walking side by side, coffee cups in hand, when they reached the tall brick-lined building that Vihaan was staying in.
Dhruv pressed the bell, a faint buzz echoing inside the apartment. For a second, there was no response. Then quick footsteps approached, the sound of locks turning, and Vihaan appeared in the doorway.
"Hi, Vihaan," Vaani greeted, her face brightening.
"Hi!" he said, grinning wide, hair still messy from sleep. He looked cheerful but slightly tired, like someone who'd spent the previous night laughing too much.
Dhruv gave him a once-over, an eyebrow lifting. "You good?"
"All good," Vihaan said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Slept like a log. I think I passed out around two."
Vaani smiled knowingly. "Party went well then?"
"Yeah!" Vihaan said immediately, his tone full of the kind of enthusiasm that only comes with first experiences.
"It was awesome. I met a few people—there's this guy from Chicago, he's doing Finance, and this girl from Spain, she's doing Applied Analytics—super fun crowd!
And they had music and pizza. It wasn't one of those awkward first-day meetups, you know? "
Dhruv smirked, leaning against the doorframe. "Pizza and loud music sound exactly like your thing."
"Obviously," Vihaan said, laughing. "And the building's great! Andrew even showed me where the laundry room is—though I don't think I'll be doing any laundry anytime soon."
Vaani rolled her eyes affectionately. "You're going to have to do it yourself now, mister."
Vihaan grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, I know. I'll learn. I mean, how hard can it be?"
Dhruv and Vaani exchanged a glance, both smiling at his confidence.
"So," Dhruv said, clapping his hands lightly. "You ready?"
"Yep," Vihaan said, stepping back into the room and grabbing his backpack. "Let me just get my cap and phone."
He disappeared inside for a moment, and Vaani looked around the doorway. His room looked cozy now—organized shelves, neatly folded clothes, and the small window that opened to a view of the campus below. The sunlight was streaming in through the blinds, casting soft shadows on the floor.
Vihaan returned, slipping his phone into his pocket. "Okay, ready."
Dhruv gestured toward the hallway. "Let's go then."
They walked down the corridor together, the rhythm of their footsteps echoing softly on the polished floor. The building smelled faintly of detergent and coffee — the scent of students living on their own, learning, adapting, surviving.
Outside, the air was bright, crisp. The university grounds stretched out before them — a blend of red-brick facades, green lawns, and tall trees that cast wide pools of shade.
Students moved about in clusters, some laughing, some deep in conversation, some with headphones in and eyes glued to their phones.
Vihaan immediately took out his phone, his face lighting up.
"I can't believe I'm actually here," he said, excitement bubbling in his tone.
He angled his phone and started snapping photos — of the tall Butler Library, of the grand steps leading up to it, of the iconic Alma Mater statue glinting in the sunlight.
"Arre wait," he said, turning to Vaani and Dhruv. "Come in one photo!"
Vaani laughed. "No, no, this is your moment!"
"Tai please," Vihaan said, already switching to selfie mode. "I want proof that you two dropped me off!"
Dhruv chuckled under his breath but leaned in anyway. Vaani stood beside him, and Vihaan extended his arm, capturing the three of them against the Columbia University backdrop. The picture froze their laughter in time — Vihaan's joy, Vaani's warmth, Dhruv's quiet amusement.
"Perfect," Vihaan said, inspecting the photo proudly. "Instagram worthy."
"Of course," Vaani teased. "Everything has to go online now, doesn't it?"
"Obviously," Vihaan said with mock offense. "How else will my friends know I'm cooler than them?"
Dhruv chuckled, shaking his head. "Classic."
They continued walking toward the main courtyard.
Dhruv, who had once spent countless hours on these same pathways, slowed his pace, his gaze softening with familiarity.
"This," he said, gesturing ahead, "is the main quadrangle.
You'll probably have your classes all around here.
That building there," he pointed toward a stately structure to their left, "that's Hamilton Hall.
I had most of my first-year lectures there. "
Vihaan's eyes widened. "You studied in this area?"
Dhruv nodded. "Yeah. First year class were here."
"That's so cool," Vihaan said, spinning around as he took another panoramic shot. "You must know all the shortcuts then!"
Dhruv smiled faintly. "Maybe a few."
As they walked further, he pointed out the small coffee cart near the Law School. "Best cappuccino on campus," he said, and Vaani turned to look. The smell of roasted coffee beans wafted through the air.
"It smells heavenly," she murmured, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"It is," Dhruv replied, glancing at her. "We'll grab one later."
Vihaan, meanwhile, was darting from one view to another, snapping photos of the old stone staircases, the ivy-covered walls, the bright blue banners with the university's insignia. He stopped suddenly in front of the Alma Mater statue again and turned.
"Can you take one of me here?" he asked, handing his phone to Vaani.
"Of course," she said, stepping back a few feet. "Okay, smile properly!"
"I'm smiling!"
"No, you're not," she teased. "You're grinning like a kid in trouble."
He adjusted his stance, straightened his shoulders, and smiled again. "Better?"
"Much," she said, taking the picture.
Dhruv watched them with a small, quiet smile.
He wasn't saying much — just observing, letting them have their moment.
Every now and then, he would step closer to point out something: "That's the student center.
You'll get your ID card there," or "That building over there has the best study lounge — open till midnight. "
Vihaan listened carefully, nodding. "Got it. You sound like my campus guide."
"I used to be one, kind of," Dhruv said, smiling faintly.
Vaani's eyes softened. There was something grounding in watching him here — the way his tone changed slightly when he spoke about this place, the ease with which he moved around it. It really did feel like a homecoming for him, and she found herself quietly happy just seeing him in his element.
"Feels like you never left, doesn't it?" she said softly.
Dhruv looked at her and nodded slowly. "Yeah. Some things just... don't change."
They continued walking toward a small open park-like area near the engineering buildings. A fountain stood at its center, its soft splashing sounds mingling with the chatter of students. Vihaan walked ahead, waving his phone excitedly at a squirrel darting across the grass.
"Look! A squirrel!" he said, almost childlike.
"Wow, Vihaan," Vaani said, laughing. "We don't have those in Dubai, do we?"
"Not ones that look so innocent," he said, still trying to get the perfect shot.
Dhruv chuckled quietly. "You're going to have hundreds of squirrel photos by the end of your first month."
"Good memories," Vihaan replied, grinning.
They walked for another hour, Dhruv showing Vihaan small corners of campus that weren't on any map — the hidden reading spot under a tree near the river view, the café that served pancakes only on Sundays, the small bookstore tucked between two dorms.
Vaani followed them, her camera occasionally raised, capturing the city skyline peeking through the trees, the sunlight filtering between tall buildings, the easy smiles on the faces of her husband and brother.
She didn't feel like an outsider here — she felt like she was quietly collecting snapshots of their shared happiness.
When they finally stopped near a bench overlooking the river, Vihaan sat down, tired but beaming. "This place is perfect," he said softly.
Dhruv looked out over the water, hands in his pockets. "It really is."
Vaani smiled, her heart full. "So... one brother goes to London, one comes to New York," she said, glancing between them. "And I'm still the one traveling the most."
Dhruv turned his head slightly, a quiet smile on his face. "You make the best company."
Vaani rolled her eyes playfully but couldn't hide the smile that spread across her lips.
The three of them sat there for a while — Vihaan talking animatedly about his plans for the semester, Dhruv occasionally adding a dry comment that made both of them laugh, and Vaani simply soaking in the view, the moment, the peace of knowing that everything, for now, felt exactly right.
~·~
The afternoon light was soft and golden by the time the three of them finished their loop around Columbia's main lawns.
The tall buildings shimmered faintly under the October sun, their old stone blending with the modern glass structures that peeked through in between.
Students hurried about, balancing coffee cups and notebooks, the hum of chatter and laughter weaving through the air.
Vihaan had been bouncing from one photo opportunity to another, occasionally stopping to read a notice board or a poster. Dhruv, hands in his pockets, had been explaining things casually — half tour guide, half alumnus reliving an old rhythm.
"That building there," Dhruv said, pointing to a tall structure with steel panels and wide glass windows, "is where most of the induction lectures happen. You'll probably have your course briefings there."
Vihaan squinted toward it, nodding. "Yeah, I think my induction's there actually. The email said Hall B."
Dhruv smiled slightly. "Hall B still exists, huh. That's where I had my first finance lecture."
"You did Finance as a module too, right?" Vihaan asked, already digging through his phone for the email confirmation.
"Yeah," Dhruv said, with a faint smirk. "Although the first week, I thought I'd made a huge mistake."
Vaani chuckled softly beside him. "And look where you are now."
"Barely survived," Dhruv said, amused.
Vihaan laughed. "I'm sure I'll manage. It's in like an hour actually, my induction."
"Perfect," Dhruv said, glancing at his watch. "You go ahead then. Vaani and I will hang around here, maybe walk a bit. We'll meet you after you're done."
"Cool," Vihaan said, nodding. "I'll text you when I'm finished. Probably an hour and a half tops."
Vaani smiled. "Good luck!"
"Thanks, Tai." He grinned, adjusted his bag, and then jogged off toward the building, his energy buzzing like the air around him.
As soon as he was out of sight, Dhruv turned to her. "So," he said, slipping his hands back into his coat pockets. "What do you want to do?"
She looked around the sprawling campus for a moment, the old stone walls, the ivy-draped arches, the autumn leaves drifting lazily across the paths. Then she turned to him with a smile. "Show me your classes."
He raised a brow. "My classes?"
"Yes!" she said. "The ones you used to sit in. Where you used to study. I want to see where Dhruv Deshmukh became... Dhruv Deshmukh."
He chuckled, shaking his head. "Hmm. Okay, let's go."
They started walking toward the far end of the campus, where the business school stood — a sleek, modern glass structure seamlessly attached to an older brick building. The sun reflected sharply off the glass panes, making the whole thing shimmer in shades of blue and bronze.
As they entered, the temperature dropped — the faint hum of the central air mixing with the quiet echo of footsteps. The floor was polished, the walls lined with framed photographs of faculty, alumni, and international business delegations.
Vaani's eyes widened. "This is beautiful," she said softly, turning in a slow circle as she took in the space. "The vibe is so... modern but vintage, you know?"
Dhruv smirked slightly. "Giving Oxford competition?"
She shot him a look, half playful, half mock-offended. "Never. Oxford is way better."
"Hmm," he said, smirking. "Nah."
"It is," she insisted, arms crossed.
"Whatever you say," he said, the hint of a grin tugging at his lips.
She bumped his shoulder lightly as they walked further in. "You're impossible."
He smiled, the kind of quiet, effortless smile that softened his usual calmness. "These were my classes," he said finally, pointing toward a long corridor with glass walls.
Vaani followed his gaze. Inside, she could see a wide amphitheater-style lecture hall — wooden benches curving around a large whiteboard, sunlight spilling across it through the tall windows.
"This one?" she asked.
"Yep," Dhruv said, nodding. "That one was for Business Economics."
She smiled, imagining him there — younger, sharper, probably just as quiet, soaking in numbers and models while the world rushed around him. "You remember that?"
"Of course," he said simply. "Can't forget where you spent half your caffeine budget."
She chuckled. "You're such a nerd."
"Comes with the degree," he replied.
Just then, a man in his late fifties walked past them — tall, graying hair, a faint smile beneath his glasses. Dhruv glanced at him for a second and then froze mid-step. His eyes narrowed slightly in recognition.
"Dhruv?" Vaani asked. "What happened?"
He looked back subtly. "That was my finance professor."
Her eyes widened. "No way. Really?"
He nodded slowly, his expression a mixture of surprise and nostalgia.
"Go say hi!" she urged immediately.
He blinked, hesitating. "I don't know... maybe he doesn't even remember me."
"Dhruv," she said, crossing her arms. "Go. You'll regret it if you don't."
He sighed softly, like she'd left him no choice. "Okay, fine."
He turned and walked toward the classroom the professor had just entered, and Vaani followed quietly, stopping by the door so Dhruv could have his moment.
Inside, the professor was writing something on the board, his handwriting neat and practiced. Dhruv stepped forward slightly. "Good morning, Professor."
The older man turned, marker still in hand — and his face immediately broke into a wide, delighted smile. "Oh my goodness. Dhruv! How are you, son? So good to see you after so long!"
Dhruv smiled, warmth lighting up his usually composed face. "In good health, sir. How are you doing?"
"I'm wonderful, I'm wonderful!" the professor said, placing the marker down. "It's been, what—five, six years? You haven't changed one bit!"
Dhruv chuckled lightly. "Maybe a little less sleep now, but yes."
The professor laughed, the sound genuine. "And what brings you back here, eh? Visiting?"
Dhruv nodded. "My brother-in-law is starting his master's here, actually. We came to drop him off."
"Brother-in-law?" the professor repeated, eyebrows lifting. "Dhruv! No way!"
Dhruv smiled, amused. "Yes, sir." He turned slightly toward the door and gestured for Vaani to come closer. "This is my wife, Vaani."
Vaani stepped in, smiling warmly. "Nice to meet you, Professor."
"Nice to meet you too, dear," he said cheerfully. "Ah, Dhruv, you've done well. I remember you used to sit in the third row, right by the aisle, always taking notes, never talking too much."
Vaani chuckled, glancing at her husband. "That sounds about right."
Dhruv rubbed the back of his neck with a small laugh. "Some habits don't change."
"Good habits never should," the professor said, still smiling. "Well, I'm glad to see you both. You know, I still tell some of my students about your final year presentation—it was one of the sharpest I'd ever seen."
Dhruv looked genuinely surprised for a second, and then he smiled, modest as ever. "That means a lot, sir. Thank you."
Just then, a few students began entering the class, their chatter filling the room. The professor glanced toward them and smiled apologetically. "Well, I should get to teaching before they start grading me instead."
Dhruv nodded. "Of course, Professor. It was great seeing you again."
"Likewise, Dhruv," the professor said warmly. "It's always nice when my old students drop by. Makes me feel like I did something right."
"You did," Dhruv said quietly.
They shook hands, and Dhruv and Vaani stepped back into the corridor. The faint echo of the professor's voice followed them as he began his lecture again.
As they walked down the hallway, Vaani looked at him with a soft smile. "Didn't that feel nice?"
Dhruv exhaled, glancing sideways at her. "I guess it did."
"You guess?" she teased. "You were smiling like a kid in there."
He smirked faintly. "It was... unexpected. Feels good, though — to know some people remember you for something good."
She nodded, slipping her hand into his as they walked. "They should. You're hard to forget."
He looked at her for a moment — a small, quiet glance — and then squeezed her hand gently. "Come on," he said softly. "Let's go explore some more. Maybe I'll show you where I used to nap between classes."
Vaani laughed. "Now that I need to see."
And together, they walked down the sunlit hallway — his calm steps beside her lighter ones — two travelers tracing the past, while life unfolded beautifully around them.
~·~
The late afternoon sunlight drifted lazily through the tall trees scattered across the Columbia campus, painting everything in gold and amber.
Vaani and Dhruv had wandered toward one of the garden courtyards just off the main academic circle, the hum of city traffic faint in the background.
They found a quiet stone bench near a small fountain, the rhythmic splash of water filling the calm between them.
Dhruv was glancing through his phone while Vaani sat, just watching students mill around. "It's nice, isn't it?" she said softly.
"Hmm?" Dhruv looked up.
"This place," she said. "It feels alive. Every corner has something happening. Even the silence feels busy."
He smiled faintly. "That's Columbia for you. You can never get bored here."
She turned to him, a teasing grin forming. "Maybe you never did. I'd probably have spent half my time in the coffee shops pretending to study."
"You mean like how you did in Oxford?" he said, not looking up from his phone.
She gasped dramatically. "Excuse me! I did not pretend to study."
He glanced at her, smirking. "Sure. I've seen your pictures, Vaani — there's one where you're holding a cappuccino and grinning at a stack of untouched books."
She laughed, swatting his arm. "That's called aesthetic motivation."
He chuckled quietly. "If you say so."
Before she could respond, her phone buzzed in her coat pocket. She fished it out and saw Vihaan's name flash on the screen. "Ah, he's done," she said, unlocking it.
Just as she was about to text, she heard Vihaan's familiar voice from behind them. "Tai!"
They both turned. Vihaan was striding toward them, backpack slung over one shoulder, his usual grin plastered across his face — and right behind him were three other students, chatting and laughing amongst themselves.
"Hey!" Vaani stood, smiling. "How was it?"
"Pretty good," Vihaan said, looking pleased. "Met the course heads, got the schedule... and," he added, jerking his thumb toward the group behind him, "met some of my batchmates."
Dhruv stood as well, slipping his phone into his pocket. "That's great."
Vihaan turned to his friends. "Guys, this is my sister Vaani, and my brother-in-law Dhruv."
Vaani waved politely. "Hi, nice to meet you all."
The first friend, a tall boy with curly hair and an easy smile, stepped forward. "Hi, I'm Aaron. Nice to meet you, ma'am — sir."
"Ma'am?" Vaani repeated, mock offended. "I'm not that old, please. Just Vaani."
Aaron laughed. "Okay, Vaani it is."
The next was a petite girl with dark hair and a sweet expression. "Hi, I'm Layla," she said warmly. "Vihaan's been talking about you guys — said you're visiting from Dubai?"
"Yes," Vaani said, smiling. "He's been hyping up this entire trip for months."
Layla laughed. "We can tell."
The third friend, a lanky boy wearing glasses, nodded politely. "I'm Nate," he said. "Nice to meet you both."
Dhruv shook each of their hands, his calm, composed manner instantly balancing Vihaan's excited energy. "Nice to meet you all. You've made Vihaan's first day a lot easier, I think."
Aaron grinned. "He's cool, man. Fits right in."
Vaani chuckled. "So, what courses are you all doing? Same as Vihaan?"
They nodded almost in unison. Layla spoke first. "Yeah, all of us are in the same program — Masters in Artificial Intelligence. We actually got talking during the orientation lineup."
"That's great," Vaani said, genuinely happy. "You'll have each other through the madness then. That's really good."
Nate smiled. "Yeah, it helps, especially when the schedule looks as crazy as it does."
Vihaan rolled his eyes. "Tell me about it. We have assignments due in two weeks already."
"Welcome to grad school," Dhruv said dryly, and all the students laughed.
Just then, Aaron's phone pinged, and he looked up. "Hey, there's a café just around the corner — a bunch of people from our program are heading there for coffee. You in, Vihaan?"
Vihaan hesitated, glancing instinctively at Dhruv and Vaani. "Uh... should I?"
Dhruv smiled, waving a hand. "Go, Vihaan. Have fun. You'll have enough time with us later."
Vaani nodded in agreement. "Yes, go make friends. That's more important."
"Alright," Vihaan said, brightening. "See you both later, then?"
"Of course," Vaani said. "Message us when you're done."
"Done." He grinned, and the group waved goodbye as they started walking away, their laughter echoing lightly against the stone walls.
When they were out of earshot, Vaani exhaled, hands on her hips. "He's settling in nicely."
Dhruv nodded, eyes still following the group. "He'll do well. He's got confidence. That's half the game here."
Vaani smiled softly. "Yeah."
They began walking again, their footsteps slow and unhurried. The sun had begun to dip, the golden light deepening into soft orange hues.
After a few minutes, Dhruv glanced at his watch. "It's four."
She nodded. "We're free now."
He looked around. "So what do we do?"
She looked up at him, eyes twinkling mischievously. "Pub!"
He blinked. "Pub?"
"Yes!" she said, hands clasped together dramatically. "You told me about that pub yesterday — the one you used to go to? We're going there."
He chuckled. "You really want to go?"
"Absolutely," she said, pretending to gasp. "How can I not? It's part of the Dhruv Deshmukh legacy!"
He shook his head, smiling faintly. "You're unbelievable."
"Thank you," she said sweetly. "Now come on."
"Alright," he said finally, defeated in the best way. "Let's go."
They exited through the main campus gate and started walking toward a quieter street lined with cafés, small bookstores, and brownstone buildings. The air had a crisp bite, the kind that carried the faint scent of roasted coffee and fallen leaves.
Vaani walked beside him, glancing at every corner, every shop window, her camera occasionally flashing as she clicked photos. Dhruv led the way, his steps easy and confident — he remembered these streets too well, like muscle memory.
After about fifteen minutes, he stopped in front of a small, unassuming door tucked between two taller brick buildings. A small golden plaque by the entrance read The Velvet Tap.
"This is it," he said.
She frowned, looking up at the dimly lit sign. "This? It looks like a hidden bookstore."
He smirked. "That's the point."
He pushed the door open, and warm light spilled out — a contrast to the chill outside. As soon as they stepped in, Vaani's eyes widened in awe.
The inside was a speakeasy-style bar — dim lighting, wooden floors, soft jazz playing from a corner speaker. Shelves of books lined one wall, while the bar counter glowed amber under hanging Edison bulbs. People sat in cozy groups, talking quietly over drinks.
"Oh my god," she whispered. "This is beautiful."
Dhruv smiled faintly. "It's the same as I remember."
They took a small table near the window, the faint hum of the city visible beyond the glass. Vaani leaned back, looking around with pure wonder. "You used to come here often?"
"Yeah," he said. "During undergrad. After long days, or when someone had a birthday, or when we wanted to complain about life."
She laughed. "So this place has heard a lot of your rants?"
"Too many," he admitted. "I think I still owe them an apology."
The waiter came by, and Dhruv ordered two coffees — "strong, black, no sugar" for himself, and "something caramel and fancy" for her, as he teased.
When the drinks arrived, Vaani stirred her cup slowly, looking out at the street. "You know, I think I get it now," she said softly.
"Get what?"
"Why you love this city. It's loud and quiet at the same time. Like... it doesn't care who you are, but it still welcomes you."
Dhruv looked at her for a moment, the corners of his mouth curving upward. "That's exactly what I used to say."
She turned to him, surprised. "Really?"
"Yeah," he said. "You can disappear here, or you can stand out. Either way, the city moves on — and somehow, that's comforting."
She smiled, taking a sip of her coffee. "You sound like a poet, you know."
He chuckled. "That's the caffeine talking."
They sat there for a long time, just talking — about the city, about Vihaan, about how strange and beautiful it felt to be on the other side of the world again. The jazz hummed softly in the background, the lights glowing warm against the polished wood.
And when Vaani leaned back, eyes shining, Dhruv realized that somehow, in that small pub hidden between two streets, New York didn't feel like a city anymore. It felt like a memory — one he was now sharing with her.
The pub had slipped into its evening rhythm — low jazz threading through murmured laughter, the soft clink of glasses, the occasional rush of cool air whenever the door opened.
Vaani was leaning across the table, chin propped on her hand, looking out at the bar like it was the most fascinating thing she'd ever seen.
Dhruv, on the other hand, sat back with his coffee, legs crossed, gaze flicking between her and the amber liquid in his cup.
"So," she said suddenly, pulling his attention back. "What were you like in college?"
He raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"You know," she said, grinning. "Were you the quiet mysterious one or the nerdy serious one or the secretly fun one who nobody expected to be fun?"
He smirked slightly. "None of those."
She gasped dramatically. "Impossible."
"I was just..." he paused, thinking, "...me."
"That's not an answer, Dhruv."
He chuckled, shaking his head. "Fine. I was the guy who got dragged to parties, stood in the corner for twenty minutes, and then left if I was bored."
She groaned. "Dhruv! You're hopeless. You were in New York and you spent it standing in corners?"
"I didn't say that," he said, smiling faintly. "I said I started in corners."
She narrowed her eyes. "And ended where?"
He leaned back, smirking. "Depends who was there."
She blinked, then pointed at him. "Okay, you're officially more interesting than I thought."
He laughed under his breath. "Good to know."
She looked at him for a long moment, her smile softening. "You look different here, you know."
He tilted his head. "Different how?"
"Lighter," she said simply. "Like you belong here."
He didn't reply immediately, just looked down at his coffee. "Maybe I do," he said quietly. "Part of me never left."
Vaani's eyes softened. "Then maybe you brought that part back with you this time."
He smiled at that, small but genuine. "Maybe."
They sat in a companionable silence for a bit — until Vaani suddenly straightened, eyes flicking toward the bar. "You know what?"
He sighed, recognizing the tone. "What?"
"I want a drink."
He looked up sharply. "What?"
"I'm in a pub, Dhruv," she said matter-of-factly. "I can't not have a drink."
"Vaani..." he started, his tone half warning, half amused.
"No," she said, raising a finger dramatically. "Don't give me that voice. We're in New York, it's chilly, there's jazz, and I am not sipping water like some corporate intern."
He gave her a flat look. "You're unbelievable."
"Thank you," she said sweetly, already flagging down the waiter.
Dhruv groaned, running a hand over his face. "Fine. Get whatever you want."
The waiter came over, smiling politely. "What can I get for you?"
Vaani looked at the menu briefly before saying, "Umm... one cosmopolitan, please."
"Sure," the waiter said, jotting it down.
"And..." Dhruv hesitated, then sighed in defeat. "Make that two."
The waiter smiled knowingly and left.
Vaani grinned. "See? That wasn't so hard."
"I'm going to regret this," he muttered.
"You regret most fun things, Dhruv," she said teasingly. "That's your problem."
"Fun things usually come with consequences," he said dryly.
"Like what?"
He looked at her, one brow raised. "Like a tipsy Vaani."
She gasped. "Excuse me? I can handle my drinks, thank you very much."
He smirked. "Sure you can."
Their drinks arrived soon after — tall, elegant glasses glowing pink under the amber lights. The condensation glistened down the sides, and Vaani immediately reached for her phone.
"Wait!" she said, lifting it. "I'm taking a photo."
Dhruv groaned softly. "Of course you are."
"Shut up," she said, adjusting the angle. "It looks so aesthetic."
He leaned back, watching her as she framed the shot. "You know, you take more photos of your drinks than with me."
She froze mid-shot and looked at him with mock seriousness. "That's because drinks don't complain when I tell them to smile."
He chuckled, shaking his head.
Then she turned her camera toward him. "Speaking of which," she said mischievously, "smile."
"Vaani—"
"Smile, Dhruv."
"I'm not—"
"Smile!"
He exhaled, then leaned in reluctantly, a tiny smirk tugging at his lips. She laughed as she snapped the photo.
"Perfect," she said. "See, that wasn't painful."
He leaned closer. "Depends who you ask."
She rolled her eyes, raising her glass. "Cheers!"
He lifted his too, their glasses clinking softly. "Cheers."
She took a sip, eyes lighting up instantly. "Wow," she said. "I love it."
"Of course you do," he said, taking a slower sip of his own.
Within minutes, her glass was empty.
"Already?" he asked, eyebrow raised.
"It was small," she protested.
"It was strong," he countered.
She shrugged, waving to the waiter. "One more, please."
Dhruv sighed, half laughing. "Vaani..."
She looked at him with that playful glint in her eyes. "Dhruv, relax. I'm okay."
"You say that now," he said. "Give it ten minutes."
"Then you'll take care of me," she said, grinning.
He looked at her for a long second, then smirked. "Yeah. I will."
Her second drink arrived, and soon enough, the buzz began to set in. Her laughter got a little louder, her words a little more animated.
"So then," she was saying, waving her glass for emphasis, "this one time in London, I tried to order coffee at 3 a.m. and ended up at a kebab shop instead. And they gave me tea! Not even milk tea — just water and leaves, Dhruv. I was traumatized."
He chuckled, leaning an elbow on the table. "Tragic."
"Don't mock my pain," she said, pointing at him.
"Wouldn't dream of it."
She leaned forward conspiratorially. "You know what else?"
He smiled faintly. "I'm sure you'll tell me."
"I think New York feels like..." she paused, trying to find the word, "like a movie."
He nodded. "It does."
"Except I'm in it," she said proudly.
He laughed. "Obviously."
She leaned back in her chair, cheeks flushed, eyes shining in the warm light. "You know, you laugh more here," she said softly. "I like that."
He smiled — that quiet, reserved smile that always carried more than it said. "You talk more here. I like that."
She giggled. "That's because I have a lot to say. And you don't talk enough."
"Maybe that's why we work," he said simply.
Her laughter softened into something gentler. She looked at him for a long second, her expression warm, soft, hazy around the edges.
"You're... really good, you know that?" she said suddenly.
He raised a brow. "Good?"
"Good at... being you."
He chuckled. "You're tipsy."
"I'm serious!" she said, swaying a little. "You're calm and annoying but nice. It's a rare combination."
He shook his head, chuckling. "You're definitely tipsy."
She leaned forward, whispering, "And you like it."
He looked at her, the corner of his mouth curving up. "Maybe I do."
She smiled dreamily, finishing what was left of her second drink. "See? I told you I can handle it."
He reached over, gently taking the empty glass away. "Sure, Vaani. Totally handling it."
She laughed, resting her head on her hand. "You're making fun of me."
"Only a little," he said.
Her eyes fluttered slightly, her grin still in place. "Hmm... I like New York," she murmured.
He smiled, watching her — her messy hair, her flushed cheeks, the way she laughed at nothing and everything all at once. "Yeah," he said softly. "So do I."
The jazz carried on around them, soft and slow, and Dhruv just sat there — watching Vaani chatter on about everything from Oxford libraries to mango lassi — and chuckling quietly every time she slurred a little or gestured too big.
Outside, New York pulsed on, but for them — in that little corner booth, under the amber glow — the world had shrunk down to laughter, a couple of drinks, and the quiet warmth of two people finding home far away from home.
The pub had started to dim down a little as evening leaned deeper into night — the jazz softer now, more mellow, the crowd shifting into that warm, golden haze of laughter and low conversation.
Dhruv glanced at his watch. They'd been there almost four hours.
Across the table, Vaani was still smiling, her elbow on the table, chin resting on her palm, and her eyes just slightly glassy.
He chuckled quietly to himself. She looked utterly content — like someone who'd just declared victory over life and was now sitting back to enjoy it.
"Vaani," he said softly, leaning forward, "I think we should go."
She looked up at him slowly, a grin stretching across her face. "Go? But the night is young, Dhruv!"
He smiled. "You've had two drinks. That's enough for you."
"Pfft," she said, waving her hand dismissively. "I can totally have another."
"You can totally not," he said firmly, though there was amusement in his voice.
She leaned forward conspiratorially, her voice dropping to a mock whisper. "You know what, I think you should get tipsy also."
Dhruv blinked, caught off guard. "What?"
"Yeah!" she said, smiling brightly. "Then we'll both be tipsy, and then it's fair."
He laughed under his breath. "No thanks."
"Come on," she said, poking his arm. "Live a little, Mr. Responsible."
He looked at her, shaking his head. "One of us needs to be sober."
She gasped dramatically, clutching her chest. "You're no fun."
"I'm the reason you'll reach the hotel without falling over," he said, half amused, half exasperated.
She made a face. "Fine, bore. Let's go then."
"Finally," he muttered, getting up and grabbing his coat.
She stood too, wobbling slightly before straightening herself proudly. "See? Totally fine."
He raised an eyebrow. "Sure you are."
She looped her arm through his as they left, her heels clicking unevenly against the floor, and he just guided her quietly out the door with a patient sigh.
The crisp New York air hit them the moment they stepped outside. Vaani inhaled dramatically. "Ohhhh that feels nice," she said. "Cold. Like... like fresh air for my brain."
Dhruv smiled faintly. "Good. Maybe it'll help sober you up."
She looked up at him, mock offended. "Excuse me, I am perfectly sober."
He didn't reply, just tucked his hands into his pockets as they started walking down the quiet street. The city lights flickered in reflections across shop windows and puddles left from a brief drizzle earlier that evening.
They walked slowly, Vaani's chatter filling the cool night. "You know," she said suddenly, pointing toward a distant building, "that looks like the building from Suits."
He followed her gaze. "That's a law firm."
"See!" she said triumphantly. "Harvey Specter vibes."
Dhruv chuckled. "You're unbelievable."
"Thank you," she said brightly. "But seriously, doesn't this city just... feel like a movie?"
He nodded. "Yeah, sometimes."
She turned to him suddenly, squinting. "Is it just me," she said slowly, "or is this hitting me more now?"
He glanced at her. "Because it does that, yes."
She groaned dramatically, holding her head. "Ohhh great. Now it's starting."
"That's why we left early," he said patiently. "Get as tipsy as you want in the hotel room. Not on the street."
She laughed softly. "You sound like my dad right now."
"I take that as a compliment," he said dryly.
"Shouldn't," she muttered under her breath, still smiling.
They walked a few more blocks, her steps mostly steady but her words growing increasingly unfiltered.
She started talking about everything — how the air smelled different, how the lights looked like "tiny fireflies made of glass," how she wanted to eat pancakes at midnight, and how "New York must be tired because it never sleeps. "
Dhruv just listened, occasionally humming a quiet "mhmm" or smiling faintly when she said something particularly absurd.
When they finally reached the hotel, she stopped near the entrance and looked up at it with exaggerated wonder. "Whoa," she said softly. "This hotel... is like... tall."
Dhruv chuckled. "Yes, that's what hotels usually are, Vaani."
"No, but like... tall tall," she said, tilting her head all the way back. "I feel like it's leaning."
"It's not leaning," he said, guiding her inside before she could try to test that theory.
They stepped into the elevator, and she leaned against the wall with a sigh, her eyes half-closed. "You're not even slightly tipsy, huh?" she murmured.
"Not even a little," he said.
"Boring," she whispered, smiling to herself.
When the elevator doors opened, Dhruv gently held her elbow, steering her down the hallway. She wasn't stumbling, but her words had taken on that loopy rhythm that made it very clear she was definitely not sober.
They reached their room, and she fished through her bag dramatically, pulling out the key card with a flourish. "I shall... open the door!"
Dhruv smirked. "Be my guest."
She waved the card in front of the sensor once — no light. Twice — still nothing.
"Dhruv, it's broken," she declared.
He took it from her, swiped once, and the door clicked open.
"Cheater," she muttered as they stepped inside.
He flipped on the lights, tossing his jacket on the chair. She dropped her bag on the couch and stood there, looking slightly dazed. "Woah," she said, blinking. "I think this is hitttttting."
Dhruv chuckled. "Mhmm."
She stumbled to the edge of the bed and sat down heavily, kicking off her heels. "It's like... my brain's on a swing," she said, laughing softly.
"Probably shouldn't have had that much," he said, crossing his arms.
She looked up at him, grinning sheepishly. "Told you that, didn't you?"
"Yup."
"And you were right," she said, holding up a finger. "But! I have no regrets."
He smiled, shaking his head. "Of course you don't."
She giggled, lying back against the pillows. "You know, Dhruv," she said sleepily, "you're kinda nice when you're taking care of me."
He raised an eyebrow. "Kinda?"
She laughed softly. "Fine. Really nice."
"Better," he said, amused.
She turned her head toward him, eyes half-open. "You're like... the calm in my chaos."
He looked at her for a long moment — at her flushed cheeks, her messy hair, the way she was fighting sleep but still smiling — and said quietly, "And you're the noise in my silence."
She grinned faintly. "That was poetic."
He chuckled. "Go to sleep, poet critic."
"Hmm," she murmured, her voice drowsy. "You'll stay, right?"
"I'm right here," he said softly.
She smiled, eyes closing. "Good."
Within minutes, her breathing evened out, and Dhruv just stood there for a while — looking at her, then at the city lights spilling through the curtains. He moved quietly, pulling the blanket up to her shoulders before sitting by the window.
Outside, New York shimmered — loud and alive — but inside that quiet hotel room, it was just her soft laughter fading into sleep, the faint hum of the heater, and Dhruv's calm, steady presence keeping it all together.
He leaned back, looking out at the skyline and smiling faintly. "Told you so," he whispered under his breath.
From the bed, a sleepy, muffled voice murmured, "Did not."
He turned slightly, amused. She wasn't even awake — just stubborn, even in sleep.
Dhruv shook his head, chuckling softly, and whispered, "Yeah, you did."
The night slipped quietly around them, wrapping the two of them — one fast asleep, one half-lost in thought — in the easy peace of a moment that needed nothing else.
??