93
Sorry for the delay guys! I had a busy week so I wasn't able to find the time.
Happy reading!
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The living room was full of open suitcases again — the same sight that had filled the house a month ago when Vihaan left.
This time, it was Vedant's turn. Clothes were scattered everywhere, half-packed gifts and chargers and folded blazers lying on the couch, and Sunita's voice occasionally echoing from the kitchen:
"Vedant, don't forget your sweater! It'll be cold there."
"Aai, I packed it!" he yelled back, sounding half-annoyed, half-nostalgic already.
Vaani stood by the couch, carefully folding one of Vedant's sweatshirts, her expression a blend of fondness and sadness.
There was something achingly familiar about the scene — the suitcases, the chaos, the smell of new beginnings in the air.
It reminded her too much of the day Vihaan left, of airports and hugs and teary smiles.
She blinked rapidly, trying not to tear up again.
Dhruv, who was sitting by the dining table with a cup of chai, noticed. He had his sleeves rolled up, looking far too calm for someone in the middle of yet another emotional farewell.
"You're getting emotional again, aren't you?" he said, half-smiling, his tone gentle but teasing.
"I'm not," Vaani said, sniffling. "I'm just— folding."
Dhruv raised an eyebrow. "You've been folding that same sweatshirt for the last five minutes."
"I'm making sure it's folded properly."
"Or making sure it doesn't end up in his suitcase so he won't leave," Dhruv said dryly, leaning back.
She looked up at him, glaring softly. "You're so annoying, you know that?"
He took a sip of chai, unbothered. "Yes, I've been told."
She let out a sigh, shaking her head, then sat beside Vedant's suitcase on the floor, pulling out another hoodie to fold. "You're supposed to be helping, not making fun of me."
"I'm providing emotional stability," Dhruv said.
Vedant, sitting across from them while trying to zip up one of his bags, laughed. "Yeah, sure, emotional stability. You're just scared if you pack something, she'll repack it."
"Exactly," Dhruv said, smirking.
Vaani threw a balled-up sock at him, which he caught midair. "You two are impossible."
"We're practical," Dhruv replied. "You're emotional."
"Someone has to be!" she said, rolling her eyes. "Not everyone can be a walking robot like you."
He chuckled softly at that, looking at her fondly before standing up and walking over. "Alright, emotion machine," he said, crouching down beside her, "let's see what you've done so far."
She looked up at him, her lips twitching into a reluctant smile. "You're mocking me."
"Observing," he said, checking the suitcase. "Okay, these are good. But this—" he pointed at one of the folded shirts, "—is going to wrinkle. You've overpacked the corner."
"I have not."
"You have. See—" he pressed down gently and the corner popped up again "—physics disagrees with you."
Vedant snorted from the side. "You two sound like an old married couple who've been doing this for fifty years."
Dhruv shot him a look. "We're not that bad."
"You are," Vedant said with a grin. "But it's cute."
Vaani chuckled, glancing at her brother-in-law. "You sure you're ready for LSE? Because teasing your Jiju might get you disowned."
Vedant zipped his backpack, grinning. "Totally worth it."
"Unbelievable," Dhruv muttered, shaking his head.
Vaani softened, looking at Vedant fondly. "I can't believe it's your turn now," she said. "Feels like just yesterday we were saying bye to Vihaan."
Vedant smiled faintly, the reality settling in his eyes. "Yeah, I can't believe it either."
"Excited?" she asked.
He nodded. "Excited, nervous, both. I mean, it's LSE — everyone there's brilliant. I just hope I fit in."
Dhruv's tone changed then, softer, steadier. "You'll do fine, Vedant. Better than fine. You've worked for this. Just remember to enjoy it too."
Vedant looked up at him and smiled, that quiet respect always present in his eyes when he looked at his older brother. "Thanks, Jiju."
Vaani watched the exchange, her heart softening even more. "He's right," she said, smiling. "You'll love it there. And London's beautiful. You'll see. The riverside, the libraries, the cafés—"
"You're going to make him homesick before he even leaves," Dhruv interrupted lightly.
"I'm motivating him!" she said defensively.
Dhruv chuckled, shaking his head. "By giving a poetic speech about rivers and cafés?"
"It works for me," Vedant said, shrugging. "Keep going, Tai. Ignore him."
Vaani smiled proudly. "See? Appreciation. That's what I needed."
Sunita entered then, carrying a small box. "Vaani beta, can you help me wrap this? I'm sending some snacks for him."
"Yes, of course," Vaani said, standing quickly.
Dhruv took the box from Sunita before Vaani could, examining it. "Wait, wait, what snacks?"
"Homemade chakli, chivda, and some thepla," Sunita said proudly. "For my son."
"Your son will have customs officers opening his bag wondering if he's starting a restaurant," Dhruv muttered.
"Dhruv!" Sunita scolded lightly, swatting his arm. "You always joke about everything."
"I'm just saying," he said with a grin, "one of these days, one of your kids will get stopped for excessive food smuggling."
Vaani laughed. "If he does, at least it'll smell delicious."
Sunita chuckled, shaking her head. "Aga bai, both of you have jokes for everything."
Once she left, Vaani sat again to wrap the box properly, while Dhruv crouched beside her, helping with the tape. Their shoulders brushed occasionally — a quiet domesticity in the middle of the pre-departure chaos.
"Don't you miss London?" Dhruv asked softly after a while, his tone casual but genuine.
She paused for half a second before answering. "Sometimes," she admitted. "Not the deadlines, but the city? Yeah."
"Maybe we'll visit again soon," he said, smiling faintly.
"Maybe," she said, meeting her eyes for a moment.
Vedant, noticing the quiet exchange, smirked slightly. "Should I leave you two alone?"
Dhruv gave him a look that made Vaani burst out laughing. "Vedant!" she said between giggles.
"What?" Vedant said innocently. "Just asking!"
Dhruv shook his head, chuckling. "You should start packing faster instead."
"Already done," Vedant said proudly, zipping up his suitcase. "Unlike you two, I'm efficient."
"You'll learn married life destroys efficiency," Dhruv said dryly.
"Excuse me?" Vaani said, feigning offense.
He looked at her, amused. "You heard me."
"You're lucky you're cute," she muttered under her breath, but not quietly enough.
Vedant coughed to hide his laughter. "Okay okay, I'm going to the living room before this turns into a rom-com scene."
He left with his suitcase, still laughing, leaving the two of them sitting there, surrounded by folded clothes and half-wrapped boxes.
Vaani shook her head. "These boys, I swear."
Dhruv smiled faintly, glancing at her. "He'll do well."
"I know," she said softly, her expression warm and proud. "Still... every time one of them leaves, the house feels emptier."
"Yeah," Dhruv murmured, nodding slowly. "It does."
For a moment, the room felt quiet again — the kind of silence that wasn't awkward, just filled with memories and affection.
Vaani sighed, smiling faintly. "Promise me when we go next, we'll visit both of them. Vihaan in New York and Vedant in London."
He looked at her, the corner of his lips tugging upward. "You're already planning the next trip?"
"Of course," she said. "Someone has to."
He chuckled softly. "You never stop, do you?"
She smiled, glancing up at him. "Not when it comes to the people I care about."
He didn't reply — just watched her for a second longer, eyes soft, before quietly helping her seal the last box.
Outside, the evening sun dipped low, casting long shadows across the floor. Inside, between laughter, teasing, and the weight of goodbyes, the air felt heavy but full — full of love, of memories, of the quiet understanding that even when people leave, the bonds don't.
And though Vaani still sniffled every few minutes, Dhruv didn't tease her again.
This time, he just reached over, gently took her hand, and said quietly, "He's going to be fine."
And she smiled through her tears, nodding. "I know."
~·~
The evening light spilled in through the kitchen window, warm and mellow, touching everything it fell on — the dining table, the steam rising from three teacups, the small plate of biscuits that Sunita had just set down.
The faint sound of traffic drifted in from outside, mixed with the soft clinking of cups.
"Come, come, have chai," Sunita said, ushering them all to sit. "Before it gets cold."
Vedant, in his grey sweatshirt and jeans, flopped onto the couch beside Dhruv, while Vaani took the seat opposite them, cross-legged and smiling despite the visible redness in her eyes from earlier.
Sunita handed Dhruv his cup first. "Here, beta."
"Thank you, Aai," he said warmly, taking it with both hands. The tea smelled perfect — not too milky, not too strong.
Sunita passed the others their cups and finally sat down herself with a content sigh. "One last cup before my boy goes," she said, looking fondly at Vedant. "You'll miss this chai there, I promise you."
Vedant chuckled, taking a sip. "I'll try to recreate it. But I doubt it'll taste like yours."
"It won't," Vaani said immediately, sipping hers. "Aai's chai is undefeated."
Sunita smiled proudly, tucking her dupatta over her shoulder. "See, at least someone appreciates it."
Dhruv smirked. "I never said I didn't."
"Hmm," Sunita said, narrowing her eyes playfully. "You always drink it quietly, so who knows what you think."
"Quiet drinking is respectful drinking," he said, deadpan, making Vedant snort into his cup.
"Respectful drinking," Vaani repeated with a laugh. "What even is that?"
Dhruv shrugged with mock seriousness. "It's an art form."
Sunita chuckled, shaking her head. "This one always has an answer for everything."
"He's a businessman," Vedant said, still grinning. "They're trained to never admit defeat."
"Smart," Dhruv said, raising his cup like a toast.
They all laughed, the light mood briefly cutting through the heaviness of the day. But as the laughter faded, Dhruv's expression softened. He looked at Vedant, then said casually, "So... you sure you're going alone?"
Vedant looked up from his cup, caught slightly off guard by the question. "Yeah," he said after a pause, nodding confidently. "I'll be fine, Jiju."
Sunita, however, sighed. "He insisted on going alone," she said, glancing at Dhruv and Vaani. "I don't know why. He said it's important."
"Aai," Vedant began, smiling faintly, "it's just the first step, you know? I want to do it myself. I'll be careful."
Before Sunita could say more, Vaani gently stepped in, her tone calm and reassuring. "It's okay, Aai. We've already arranged everything."
Sunita blinked. "Everything?"
Vaani nodded, setting her cup down. "Yes, my friend lives near his accommodation. I had already sent some of my old essentials — utensils, sheets, living items — she'll drop them off tomorrow after he checks in. He won't need to worry about anything on the first day."
Sunita's face relaxed at that. "Oh, that's very nice of her."
Dhruv leaned back slightly, watching her — there was that small spark of pride in his eyes again, the one that appeared whenever she handled things with quiet efficiency.
Vaani smiled, shrugging. "And he's staying in a safe area. It's a student-heavy neighborhood, close to the university and markets. Everything's fine."
Vedant nodded eagerly, looking grateful for her backup. "Exactly. Everything's sorted."
Sunita still sighed, but it was a softer one now. "You two sound more prepared than I am."
"That's because you're emotional, Aai," Vaani said with a chuckle. "It's a good thing."
Sunita smiled at her warmly, brushing her hair from her face. "You always know what to say, beta."
Across from them, Dhruv caught the way Vaani's smile softened at that — the way she always did when someone appreciated her small efforts.
She had that thing about her — this quiet, reassuring steadiness.
The kind of calm that didn't come from being untouched by chaos, but from having weathered it so many times before.
He found himself smiling without realizing it.
Vedant, meanwhile, was busy explaining his course details to Sunita again, who listened for the hundredth time with all the patience of a mother trying to memorize every detail of her child's new world.
"So classes start in two weeks?" she asked.
"Yes, but orientation's next week," he said. "That's why I'm going early."
"And you've kept enough cash?"
"Yes."
"And all your documents?"
"Yes."
"Medicines?"
"Packed."
"Adapters?"
Vedant groaned. "Aai, yes!"
Vaani and Dhruv both chuckled.
Sunita smiled, a little embarrassed but still unconvinced. "You can't blame me. You boys forget everything."
"He'll be fine," Dhruv assured her quietly.
She looked at him, and the steadiness in his tone was enough to calm her down a little. "You think so?"
"I know so," he said simply.
That seemed to settle it.
The four of them sat there for a while, sipping their chai and munching on biscuits, the conversation drifting between casual updates and small jokes. The kind of easy, comfortable talk that families fall into when the clock is ticking toward a goodbye but no one wants to mention it yet.
Finally, Vaani glanced at her watch. "Okay," she said reluctantly. "We should head back. It's getting late."
Sunita sighed. "Alright, beta. You'll come to the airport tomorrow, na?"
"Of course," Vaani said, standing. "We wouldn't miss it."
Vedant stood too, stretching his arms. "Don't worry, Tai, I'll text you once when we start tomorrow."
"Text me before that also," Vaani said sternly.
"I will," he promised, hugging her.
Dhruv and Vaani picked up their stuff, and after a round of hugs and goodbyes, they stepped outside into the cool evening air.
The moment they reached the car, Vaani sighed deeply, almost dramatically, as she slid into the passenger seat. "I can't believe both my brothers are flying the nest."
Dhruv chuckled quietly as he started the engine. "That's what happens when they grow up."
"I know, but still," she said, gazing out the window as they pulled onto the road. "It feels so weird. The house is going to be so empty for Aai now. Vihaan in New York, Vedant in London..."
"Global citizens," Dhruv said lightly.
"Don't make jokes," she said, but there was a small smile tugging at her lips. "I'm being emotional here."
"You're always emotional," he said.
"I'm sentimental," she corrected, crossing her arms. "There's a difference."
He shot her a sideways glance, amused. "If you say so."
She gasped dramatically. "Are you mocking me?"
"Never," he said innocently. "I'm just enjoying this live podcast of yours."
She turned to him, narrowing her eyes. "Live podcast?"
He nodded. "Yes. The Vaani Express: Thoughts, Feelings, and Tangents. Available every evening between nine a.m to midnight."
Vaani burst out laughing. "You're impossible."
"I prefer efficient," he said.
"You're impossible and efficient," she retorted, shaking her head. "Great combination."
"Thank you," he said, keeping a straight face.
She laughed again, leaning back in her seat, her eyes sparkling. "You really enjoy making fun of me, don't you?"
"I'm not making fun," he said softly, glancing at her briefly. "I'm enjoying you talk."
She blinked at him, surprised for a second by the quiet sincerity in his tone. "Touche," she said after a moment, smiling faintly. "Answer."
He smiled to himself, eyes still on the road. "That was the answer."
And for a few seconds, neither of them said anything. The city lights streamed past, soft music played low in the background, and between the teasing and the silences, something subtle — something steady — settled between them again.
It wasn't loud or sudden. It was just there. Like the warmth of chai shared at sunset. Like the comfort of knowing, no matter how far everyone else went, the two of them — somehow — always found their way back home together.
By the time Dhruv and Vaani reached home, the city had slipped into its nighttime hush.
The hum of cars softened outside, lights flickered in neighboring windows, and the faint smell of rain hung in the air.
The apartment felt warm and familiar as they stepped in—quiet, comfortable, and entirely theirs.
Vaani kicked off her shoes by the door and sighed dramatically. "I'm so tired," she declared, dragging herself to the couch like a soldier returning from battle.
Dhruv shut the door behind them and glanced at her with an amused half-smile. "Then sit. I'll make dinner."
Her head snapped up. "No, no, I'll do it."
He raised a brow. "Why?"
"Because I can."
"I know you can," he said, walking toward the kitchen, "but I want to."
She squinted suspiciously. "You want to make dinner?"
He nodded, already rolling up his sleeves. "Yes. You've been yapping since we left Aai's place; you deserve a break."
"Excuse me," she said, pointing at him, "that's called conversation."
"Sure," he said lightly. "A one-sided one."
Her mouth fell open. "Dhruv!"
He smirked and gestured toward the living room. "Go sit quietly before you burn the kitchen down."
She gasped. "How dare you—"
But he'd already turned on the stove.
Muttering to herself about his "audacity," Vaani padded barefoot into the kitchen anyway and hopped up onto the counter, legs swinging slightly. "Fine," she said. "But I'm going to sit here and supervise."
Dhruv didn't look up from the chopping board. "As long as supervision doesn't include touching things."
"It doesn't," she said innocently. "Just observing."
He chuckled quietly, shaking his head. "You're impossible."
"Compliment accepted," she said, grinning.
The kitchen filled with the rhythmic sound of chopping vegetables and the occasional hiss of oil meeting a hot pan.
The smell of garlic and cumin began to spread through the air, and Vaani, sitting cross-legged on the counter, started talking again, because silence and Vaani rarely existed in the same sentence.
"You know what," she said suddenly. "I want Naina and Simran to get married soon, yaar."
Dhruv looked up briefly. "Why do you care?"
She frowned as if he'd just asked the most ridiculous question ever. "Because they're my best friends! Why will I not care?"
He smirked. "It's their life, not yours."
Vaani rolled her eyes. "When you have best friends, it's our life, not just theirs. We live it together. Their drama is my drama."
He let out a soft laugh, flipping the vegetables in the pan. "God help their husbands then."
She gasped, offended but laughing. "Rude! I'll make sure you get invited to every wedding function just to deal with all the 'drama.'"
"Can't wait," he said dryly.
Vaani grinned, eyes twinkling. "It'll be fun though, na? When everyone's married—like the whole gang. Imagine the group vacations, the dinners, the kids' birthdays—"
Dhruv looked at her from the corner of his eye. "You've planned everyone's future except your own."
"I'm living my future," she said smugly.
He chuckled, stirring the pan. "Right. So are Simran and Naina seeing anyone?"
Vaani tilted her head, thinking. "Hmm, I think Simran might be. But she's not saying anything. You know her—super secretive when it comes to guys. I think she's waiting for it to be serious."
"And Naina?"
"Naina..." Vaani sighed. "She's not into anyone right now. I keep telling her to put herself out there, but she's so shy that way."
Dhruv smirked. "I thought the same about you at first."
She blinked. "What?"
He shrugged. "When we got married—you hardly said a few words those first few days. I thought you were just... quiet."
Vaani groaned, burying her face in her hands. "That's because you were scary."
His hand paused mid-stir. "I was what?"
"Scary!" she said, lowering her hands to look at him. "You had that brooding, silent, don't-talk-to-me vibe. I thought you'd yell if I said something stupid."
He chuckled, shaking his head. "I'm not scary, Vaani. I'm just quiet."
She narrowed her eyes. "Quiet people are scary."
He raised a brow. "You talk like you're giving a TED Talk on human behavior."
"I should," she said proudly. "Topic: The Silent Species—A Study on Brooding Husbands."
Dhruv laughed under his breath, his shoulders relaxing. "You're unbelievable."
"Thank you," she said sweetly.
He shook his head, turning back to the stove, but there was a small smile tugging at his lips.
Vaani continued, as always. "But seriously, the first week after we got married, I thought you hated me."
He glanced at her, amused. "I didn't."
"I know that now," she said quickly. "But you barely talked! You'd just nod or hum or say one-word answers like 'okay,' 'fine,' or 'good.' That's not communication."
He smirked. "It's efficient communication."
"Efficient but soulless," she teased. "You could've at least said a full sentence."
"Like what?"
"Like, 'Good morning, Vaani. How was your sleep?' or 'Would you like some chai?' or even 'Hi, how's life?' You know—normal conversation."
"I made you chai some mornings," he pointed out.
"Yes, but in silence!"
He laughed quietly. "And you still married me."
"Unfortunately, yes." She grinned when he looked over at her, eyes playful. "But now you talk more, so maybe I'll keep you."
"Generous," he said dryly. "Very generous."
She giggled, kicking her legs lightly against the cabinet. "You're welcome."
They fell into a comfortable rhythm after that—her talking, him cooking, their words weaving through the sounds of sizzling food. He served the sabzi into a dish, switched off the gas, and leaned against the counter beside her, arms crossed.
"Done," he said simply.
"See, I knew I could trust you with dinner," she said, hopping off the counter.
"You didn't trust me," he said with a small smirk. "You just didn't want to cook."
"Semantics," she said, waving it off as she peeked into the dish. "Hmm, smells good. You're improving."
"I was always good."
"You think you were," she corrected. "There's a difference."
He sighed, smiling faintly. "You always have the last word, don't you?"
"Of course," she said proudly. "It's in the marriage contract."
"I don't remember signing that."
"You didn't read the fine print," she said sweetly, setting plates on the table.
He chuckled quietly, helping her with the cutlery. For a few moments, the only sound was the clinking of spoons and the soft hum of the refrigerator. But the quiet between them wasn't heavy—it was the kind that came from being completely at ease.
Finally, as they sat down to eat, Vaani looked at him with a small smile. "You know," she said, "it's nice when you cook."
He raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
"Because it makes you less scary."
He laughed softly, shaking his head. "You'll never let that go, will you?"
"Never," she said cheerfully, taking a bite. "It's part of your brand."
"Scary, brooding husband?"
"Exactly," she said, nodding with mock seriousness. "Very mysterious. Very intimidating. Very—oh my god this is actually really good."
He smirked. "Told you."
She sighed dramatically. "Fine. You win this one."
"I win all of them," he said calmly, taking another bite.
She looked up at him with a teasing smile. "Not all of them."
"Name one I didn't."
"Convincing me you weren't scary," she said instantly.
He chuckled, meeting her eyes for a second longer than usual. "Working on it."
And just like that, with laughter, food, and the sound of rain faintly tapping against the windows, another ordinary evening turned into something quiet and meaningful.
A small moment. A soft one. The kind that didn't ask for attention—but somehow, still mattered the most.
~·~
The night had softened, the kind that turned the city lights hazy and gold. Inside, the apartment felt warm—quiet music played softly from Vaani's phone, their dinner plates were half-filled, and the air smelled faintly of cumin and lemon.
Vaani was mid-story—something about Simran's disastrous attempt at baking cookies—when Dhruv, half-smiling, interrupted, "So... going to work tomorrow?"
She looked up, blinking. "Hmm? Oh, no," she said, shaking her head as she chewed. "I'm working from home after dropping Vedant at the airport. I told my team I'll log in by ten."
Dhruv nodded slowly. "Right. Big day for him."
"Yeah," she said with a little sigh. "Feels weird, you know? Both my brothers gone. House's gonna be so quiet now."
He gave a faint smile. "Your house? It's still your parents' house."
"Same thing," she said. "You don't get it—you guys are all calm. We're a noisy bunch. If there isn't chaos, something feels wrong."
Dhruv chuckled under his breath. "So peace is the problem?"
"Yes!" she said dramatically. "Too much silence gives me anxiety."
He shook his head, amused, and took another bite. The comfortable quiet returned, the kind that needed no words. Then, out of nowhere, Vaani looked up, eyes gleaming in that familiar way that usually meant something big was about to come out of her mouth.
"Dhruv," she said slowly, "I was thinking something."
He looked up from his plate. "That sounds dangerous."
She kicked his leg under the table. "Shut up. I'm being serious."
He smirked. "Okay, okay. Bolo."
She leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on her hand. "Why don't we send Maa, Papa, and Aai, Baba on a trip?"
Dhruv paused for a second, eyebrows lifting. "A trip?"
"Yeah!" she said, eyes lighting up. "They've been so busy with work and kids and everything, I feel like they've not taken a proper vacation in years. Just something small—a few days to relax and enjoy without worrying about us."
He chewed thoughtfully for a moment, then nodded. "Good idea."
She smiled wide, clearly pleased he hadn't brushed it off. "You think so?"
"Yeah," he said simply, setting his fork down. "I suggested the same thing a while back. They didn't take me seriously."
Vaani's eyes widened. "Wait—really?"
He nodded, amused at her reaction. "Yep. I told Baba they should go to a hill station or something, but he said he couldn't 'leave the business unattended.' Typical."
Vaani sighed. "Exactly! They never take breaks. Even Maa—she's been moving nonstop. I feel like they've earned a little peace."
Dhruv leaned back slightly, a soft look crossing his face. "You really thought this through, huh?"
She nodded eagerly. "I even found a few places already!"
He chuckled. "Of course you did."
"Don't mock me!" she said, wagging her fork at him.
"Listen, there's this beautiful retreat in Shimla.
It's not too touristy—more peaceful, surrounded by pine trees, with those glass cottages and a view of the valley.
They do bonfires and spa days and even have little trails for walks.
I thought both sets of parents could go together—it'll be fun for them. "
Dhruv tilted his head slightly, curious. "You're planning to send them together?"
"Why not?" she said, grinning. "They'll have fun! Maa and Aai will talk non-stop, Baba and Papa will complain about the cold and business and end up bonding over it. It's perfect."
Dhruv smiled, the image making him quietly laugh. "Yeah, that sounds about right."
She nodded proudly. "See? You get it."
"So when are you planning to tell them?" he asked, sipping his water.
"Tomorrow, maybe. After Vedant leaves. They'll need time to plan and pack, right?"
He hummed. "Makes sense."
Vaani leaned back in her chair, excitement bubbling in her voice.
"I can already picture it—Maa clicking hundreds of pictures of the mountains, Aai carrying thepla and chivda in her bag, Baba trying to network with the driver, and Papa reading the newspaper by the fireplace pretending to be 'detached from technology' but secretly scrolling through his phone. "
Dhruv chuckled, shaking his head. "You've got everyone figured out."
She smiled proudly. "Of course I do. They're my people."
He looked at her for a moment longer than necessary—watching her face light up as she talked, her hands moving animatedly, her eyes full of warmth and energy. He couldn't help it; she had this way of making every little idea sound like the best thing in the world.
She caught his look and frowned playfully. "What?"
He shook his head lightly. "Nothing. You just get... passionate about things."
"Is that a bad thing?"
"No," he said quietly. "It's... nice."
She smiled softly. "You say that like it's rare."
"It is rare," he said, almost to himself.
Vaani tilted her head, still smiling. "Well, you better get used to it. You married passion itself."
He laughed, leaning back. "That I did."
They continued eating, the conversation flowing effortlessly.
Vaani began explaining how she'd found the Shimla place—how the resort had gotten rave reviews from couples and families alike, how they served "the best pahadi chai," and how she wanted their parents to just breathe for a bit, without deadlines, family group chats, or responsibilities hanging over them.
Dhruv just listened, his responses short but thoughtful. Every now and then, he'd ask questions—practical things like, "What about their flights?" or "Will there be someone local they can contact?"—but mostly, he let her talk.
And she did, her words spilling with easy warmth. "You know, I feel like they never got this kind of break even when we were kids. They were always juggling things. It's time they just... rested. No obligations. Just the two couples enjoying nature."
He smiled faintly. "You sound like you've planned the itinerary too."
She gasped dramatically. "Don't tempt me! I already have the link saved."
He laughed quietly. "Of course you do."
"I'm going to book it this week," she continued excitedly. "And we'll tell them after Vedant's flight. Maybe we can even gift them matching shawls or something."
Dhruv raised a brow. "Matching shawls?"
"Yes!" she said, eyes sparkling. "Something cozy and cute. It's Shimla! You need shawls, sweaters, mittens—the works!"
He chuckled again, shaking his head. "You and your details."
"Details make everything better," she said simply, and there was something about the way she said it—soft yet sure—that made him stop for a second.
He nodded. "You're right."
She smiled gently. "See, you're learning."
He rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Don't start."
"Too late," she teased.
They finished their dinner in that easy rhythm they'd fallen into over the months—his calm balancing her chaos, his silences filled by her laughter. The plates clinked softly as they cleared the table together, the sound of the rain still whispering faintly outside.
As Vaani rinsed the last dish, she looked at him from the corner of her eye. "You know," she said, "I think we're getting pretty good at this."
"At what?" he asked, drying a plate.
"This," she said, gesturing vaguely between them. "Life. Us. Balance. You cook, I talk; you listen, I plan—it works."
Dhruv smiled quietly, glancing at her. "Yeah," he said softly. "It does."
She grinned. "So tomorrow we drop Vedant, then we make this trip plan official, okay?"
"Okay," he said, handing her the towel.
"Say it properly."
"Okay, Vaani," he said, with a faint chuckle.
"Good," she said, satisfied.
And as they turned off the kitchen lights and stepped into the soft glow of the living room, it was one of those simple, ordinary evenings that felt like everything was exactly as it should be—steady, warm, and quietly happy.
~·~
The sky was a soft grey-blue when they reached the airport—too early for the sun to be up, too late for the stars to linger. The air was cool, the kind of chill that clung to you just long enough to remind you that dawn hadn't yet stretched its arms fully open.
Vaani hugged her shawl tighter as she and Dhruv walked beside Sunita and Ramesh through the almost-silent terminal.
The smell of freshly brewed airport coffee mixed with the faint scent of floor polish and sleep-deprived travelers.
Vedant walked ahead, his backpack slung over one shoulder, dragging his suitcase behind him, earbuds dangling around his neck.
"Arre, walk slowly na, Vedant!" Sunita called out, her voice soft but emotional. "Why are you rushing? You have time!"
Vedant turned and smiled. "Aai, it's fine, I just want to get the boarding pass quickly."
Ramesh chuckled, glancing at Dhruv. "He's acting like the plane will leave without him."
Dhruv smiled faintly. "First solo flight jitters," he said, adjusting the strap of his duffel.
"Hmm," Mahesh hummed knowingly. "I still remember Dhruv's first trip abroad. He was quieter than usual."
Vaani looked up at Dhruv with a teasing grin. "You? Quieter than usual? That's impressive."
He gave her a side-eye that only made her chuckle harder. "You're impossible."
"Thank you," she said with mock pride.
Just ahead, Vedant turned around again. "Can you guys stop making fun of me for two minutes?"
Vaani smirked. "Never."
"Baapre," Vedant muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes in the most endearing brotherly way.
"Vedant!" Mahesh called, smiling. "You made it in time! Boarding pass done as well."
Vedant's face smiled. "Kaka! Kaki!" He went over quickly and touched their feet, earning affectionate pats on the head.
"Going to conquer the world, are you?" Mahesh teased.
"Just my undergraduate degree for now," Vedant said sheepishly.
Jaya smiled, her eyes soft. "He's grown up, na? It feels like just yesterday we saw him running around at Vaani and Dhruv's wedding."
Sunita laughed, though her eyes glistened a little. "Don't remind me, Jaya. He still leaves his socks everywhere."
"Arre Aai!" Vedant protested. "You had to bring that up now?"
"Of course," Sunita said proudly. "That's my right."
The laughter rippled around their small group, easing the heaviness that hung over them. But as the check-in line moved forward, the moment everyone had been trying to delay finally arrived.
Vedant hugged each one of them tightly—Ramesh first, then Dhruv, then Jaya and Mahesh. When he came to Vaani, she smiled wide, trying to hold back the tears pricking her eyes.
"Call every day," she said, voice wavering slightly. "And message me when you land. And don't forget to eat, okay?"
Vedant groaned affectionately. "Tai, I'll be fine! You're sounding like Aai already."
"Good," Vaani said, wiping her eye. "Because she's trained me well."
Sunita sniffed quietly behind her, holding a tissue while Ramesh wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Go on, beta," Ramesh said, smiling despite the lump in his throat. "Make us proud."
Vedant nodded, his own voice thick. "I'll try my best, Baba."
He hugged Sunita one last time. She whispered something to him—something quiet and motherly—and then, just like that, he was walking toward security, turning back every few steps to wave until he disappeared behind the frosted glass gates.
Vaani stood there for a long moment, staring at the spot where her brother had vanished, her eyes soft and misty. Dhruv reached over silently, brushing his hand against hers.
"You okay?" he asked quietly.
She nodded. "Yeah," she whispered, though her voice cracked a little. "Just... emotional."
Sunita exhaled shakily. "The house will be so quiet now."
Ramesh smiled gently. "You said the same when Vihaan left. But we survived that too."
Vaani chuckled, wiping her cheek. "Barely."
Mahesh clapped Dhruv's shoulder. "These kids are growing too fast, ha?"
Dhruv nodded. "Fast indeed."
There was a moment of silence as everyone took a collective breath. The airport bustle carried on around them—announcements over the PA system, trolley wheels squeaking, the faint hiss of coffee machines.
And then, as if remembering something, Vaani suddenly straightened.
"Maa, Papa, Aai, Baba," she said brightly, her tone suddenly shifting. "We have something to say to you!"
All four of them looked up, curious.
"Haan, bolo," Ramesh said.
"What is it, beta?" Jaya asked, tilting her head.
Dhruv gave her a small smile—he knew that look on her face. That I've-planned-something-big-and-you'll-love-it-so-don't-argue look.
Vaani clasped her hands together dramatically. "We think you guys should go on a holiday."
There was a moment of confused silence before Jaya blinked. "Arre, why?"
"Why not?" Vaani countered instantly. "You've all been working so hard—running around, handling everything, never taking a proper break. We just thought you deserve to relax for once."
Sunita frowned a little, exchanging glances with Jaya. "But who will look after the house? And your father's work?"
"I can manage the work," Dhruv said calmly. "And housework? We're here. We can handle it."
Ramesh chuckled softly. "And where exactly are you planning to send us, madam?"
Vaani's face lit up like a bulb. "Shimla!" she declared proudly. "It's beautiful this time of year—quiet, green, peaceful. I found this lovely retreat there. You can have bonfires, go for walks, eat pahadi food... basically just chill and enjoy."
Sunita laughed lightly. "Shimla, ha? Haven't been there since that trip years ago."
"Exactly!" Vaani said enthusiastically. "Then it's long overdue!"
Ramesh smiled indulgently. "Beta, it's very sweet, but—"
"No buts!" Vaani interrupted, holding up a hand. "You always have excuses. Work, this, that. This time, no excuses. You're going."
Jaya chuckled, looking between her and Dhruv. "And this was both your idea?"
Dhruv nodded. "Mostly hers," he admitted. "But I agree. You've all earned it."
Mahesh looked thoughtful. "A break does sound nice..."
Sunita nudged him. "Don't get tempted!"
But Jaya smiled at her. "Why not, Sunita? Maybe the kids are right. We've been so caught up in everything, it'll be good for all of us."
Ramesh sighed but there was a smile tugging at his lips. "You've all ganged up against us, haven't you?"
"Yes!" Vaani said gleefully. "That's the only way you'll listen."
Even Sunita laughed at that. "Arre fine! But only for a few days."
"Deal," Vaani said instantly.
Dhruv nodded. "We'll handle all the bookings and details. You just pack and go."
Jaya looked touched, her voice softer now. "That's very thoughtful of you two."
"Of course," Vaani said, smiling warmly. "You've done so much for us—it's time you got a proper vacation."
Mahesh looked at Dhruv fondly. "You married a persuasive one."
Dhruv chuckled. "I'm aware."
Sunita smiled, finally giving in. "Alright then, book it before we change our minds."
Vaani grinned. "Done!"
And as they all laughed together in that bustling airport corner—four parents, two grown children, the faint hum of early-morning travelers weaving around them—it felt like the perfect little balance of endings and beginnings.
Vedant was flying toward his new chapter, and somewhere between the laughter and chai-scented goodbyes, Vaani and Dhruv had managed to give their parents one of their own.
As they walked back toward the exit, Vaani looped her arm through Dhruv's and whispered, "See? Told you they'd say yes."
He smiled sideways at her. "You were terrifyingly confident."
"Because I'm always right."
Dhruv laughed quietly. "We'll see how long that lasts."
But in that soft morning light, surrounded by the people they loved, it didn't matter who was right or wrong. All that mattered was the warmth—the kind that stayed even after the goodbyes.
??