94
Two weeks later, the air at the Dubai International Airport was warmer, busier, and buzzing with that peculiar energy only airports could have — a blend of excitement and nostalgia, of goodbyes and promises to meet again.
The scene this morning was no different.
Families hurried past with luggage, coffee cups in hand, and the faint sound of flight announcements echoed through the terminal ceiling.
Vaani adjusted the strap of her crossbody bag as she and Dhruv stood beside their parents — Jaya and Mahesh on one side, Sunita and Ramesh on the other — all gathered near the departures gate for the flight to Delhi, and onward to Shimla. The retreat had finally arrived.
Jaya was beaming, her sunglasses perched on her head, her shawl draped over her arm. "It's been ages since we packed for a proper vacation," she said, glancing at Mahesh. "You even took out that old camera."
Mahesh grinned. "Of course. Someone has to capture all of your posing."
Vaani laughed. "I can already see it — Maa's full photoshoot session in the hills of Shimla."
Jaya waved a hand playfully. "Arre, I've earned this! I'm going to enjoy every view."
Sunita, meanwhile, was fussing over her handbag. "I packed the woolens, haan? And the medicines. And—"
Ramesh sighed good-naturedly. "Sunita, you've checked the bag three times already."
Vaani smiled faintly, arms crossed. "She's thorough, Baba. It's a superpower."
Sunita shot her a look that was both amused and warning. "Don't tease me. I don't want to hear anyone say, 'Sunita, I forgot this,' after we land."
Vaani giggled. "She's not wrong. Remember London? You forgot your scarf."
Ramesh groaned quietly. "That was one time—"
"And we had to buy you a new one," Vaani continued triumphantly. "A pink one."
Ramesh chuckled. "Pink suited me."
Everyone laughed as Dhruv just muttered, "they're never telling you anything again."
Jaya looked at the two of them, her eyes soft with affection. "You two haven't changed at all," she said. "Still bickering like an old couple."
Dhruv and Vaani exchanged a small glance, both smiling, but there was an ease in their silence now — the kind that only came when two people had unknowingly grown into each other's rhythm.
A boarding announcement came over the speakers, and Ramesh glanced up. "That's us."
Sunita inhaled deeply. "Well, this is it then."
Vaani quickly moved closer, hugging her Aai first, tightly. "Have the best time, okay? No worrying about anything. Just eat, rest, enjoy. Promise?"
Sunita smiled, patting her cheek. "I promise. And you take care too, haan?"
"I will," Vaani said softly. "Call me when you land."
"I will, beta."
Then she hugged Ramesh, who smiled and said, "You're sure you don't want us to bring anything back?"
"Bring yourselves back well-rested," Vaani said.
He nodded, amused. "Done."
Next, Jaya came forward and gave Dhruv a light pat on the arm. "Don't work too hard while we're gone, hmm?"
Mahesh laughed. "That's impossible. He was born to work hard."
Dhruv smirked. "I'll try to relax. Maybe."
"See that you do," Jaya said warmly, and then hugged Vaani too. "And you — take a break from running after everyone. You've earned it."
Vaani smiled. "I'll try."
As the parents began to gather their bags, Sunita suddenly turned back one last time, looking at the two of them standing side by side. "It feels strange, you know? We're always used to being the ones seeing you off. Today, it's the other way around."
Vaani's eyes softened. "Well, today it's your turn. You deserve it."
Sunita's smile was gentle but proud. "Thank you, beta."
"Okay, okay," Mahesh said, waving. "If we stand here longer, the plane will leave without us. Chalo!"
There were final hugs, last-minute reminders — "call when you land," "don't forget the charger," "send pictures" — before the four parents finally walked toward security, turning around every few seconds to wave.
Vaani waved until she couldn't see them anymore. Then she sighed, her hand dropping slowly. "It feels so weird, doesn't it? Them going on vacation?"
Dhruv chuckled. "It's about time. They need it."
"I know," she said, still smiling faintly. "Still feels strange. The house is going to be too quiet."
He looked at her sideways. "You said that when Vedant left."
"And I was right," she said. "It was too quiet."
"Then we'll just fill it with more noise," Dhruv said casually.
She looked at him, eyebrows raised. "Oh? And what kind of noise do you plan to make, Mr. Dhruv Deshmukh?"
"The kind that keeps you from getting bored," he replied, deadpan, then smiled faintly. "We'll figure something out."
She grinned. "Okay fine, Mr. Mysterious. What do we do now?"
Dhruv adjusted his watch, glancing toward the exit. "You tell me."
Vaani thought for a moment, lips pursed in that overly dramatic thinking pose that always made him want to laugh. "Movie night," she said finally, eyes brightening.
He raised an eyebrow. "Movie night?"
"Yes," she said firmly. "Popcorn, blankets, no work, just movies. We'll order dinner and binge something."
Dhruv shook his head lightly but couldn't help smiling. "Alright. Movie night it is."
"You said that way too easily," she teased.
"That's because it sounds peaceful," he replied. "And maybe you'll stop talking long enough to watch the movie."
"Excuse me!" she gasped, feigning offense. "I am a very quiet and respectful movie watcher."
He laughed outright this time. "That's the biggest lie I've heard all week."
"Okay, fine," she admitted, crossing her arms. "But I make excellent commentary."
"You make constant commentary."
She giggled. "Same thing."
As they began walking back toward the parking lot, Vaani linked her arm with his. "You know," she said softly, "I'm glad we did this. Sent them off, I mean."
Dhruv nodded. "Yeah. They looked... happy."
"They did," she said, smiling fondly. "I can already imagine Aai sitting with chai near the window, Baba reading the newspaper, and Maa and Papa walking around the gardens."
He glanced at her. "You've thought this through."
"Of course I have," she said. "I planned it."
Dhruv chuckled. "You're something else."
She smirked. "I know."
They reached the car, the morning sun finally filtering through the glass walls of the terminal, turning everything gold. For a moment, they just stood there—watching families say goodbye, kids running to hug grandparents, and the line of taxis forming outside.
It struck Dhruv then how much things had changed. A year ago, this woman beside him had been a stranger. Now, she was his peace in airports and his chaos in living rooms; his quiet companion and his loudest laugh.
He opened the car door for her. "Ready?"
Vaani smiled, eyes soft. "Always."
As they drove out of the airport, the world outside waking up around them, the plan for the evening was simple — a quiet movie night. But Dhruv had a feeling, with Vaani around, even that would somehow turn into something far more beautiful than quiet.
And as the road stretched ahead of them, both smiled unknowingly — the kind of smile that said life, in all its messy, unpredictable ways, was exactly as it should be.
By the time they reached home, the sun had mellowed into a soft evening gold, streaming through the windows of their apartment and tinting the walls with a comforting warmth. Vaani kicked off her shoes the second they entered, stretching her arms with a groan.
"Finally," she said dramatically. "No flights, no packing, no check-ins, no long queues. Just my couch, my air conditioning, and my pajamas."
Dhruv smiled, locking the door behind them. "You sound like you've been through war."
"Airport goodbyes are emotional warfare," she retorted, already heading toward the bedroom. "You wouldn't understand."
He chuckled under his breath and loosened his shirt cuffs. "You said that when Vihaan left. And Vedant. And now this."
"Because every time someone leaves, my heart breaks a little," she called from inside the room.
He smirked. "And then you fix it with chai and a movie night."
"That's called self-care, Dhruvi!"
He shook his head, amused, and walked to his own side of the room.
They both changed — Vaani emerging a few minutes later in her oversized grey T-shirt that read 'I Speak Fluent Sarcasm' and cotton shorts, hair tied up in a messy bun that somehow still looked too perfect.
Dhruv, in a black tee and track pants, leaned against the counter with his phone, scrolling through a delivery app.
"Okay," he said, "before your self-care session begins, what are we eating?"
"Pizza," she replied instantly.
"You didn't even think about it."
"I don't need to," she said. "Pizza is the universal answer to all problems."
Dhruv sighed. "Fine. What toppings?"
"Veggie loaded!" she said brightly.
He looked at her in mock horror. "We're not twelve."
"Excuse me?"
"Veggie loaded?" He raised an eyebrow. "That's not pizza. That's a salad in disguise."
She gasped. "Rude! It's flavourful and healthy."
He gave her a flat look. "The words 'healthy' and 'pizza' don't belong in the same sentence."
She crossed her arms. "Fine then, what do you want?"
"Four cheese."
She squinted at him. "You and your basic choices."
"Basic?" He smirked. "At least my pizza doesn't pretend to be a garden."
They stared each other down for a few seconds before she finally grinned. "You know what? Order both."
"That's the most reasonable thing you've said all day," he muttered, scrolling again.
"Excuse me? I've said many reasonable things."
"Name one."
"'Let's have a movie night' — that was very reasonable."
He didn't look up from his phone. "You just want an excuse to make fun of the characters."
"I do not!" she exclaimed. Then she paused. "Okay, maybe a little."
He laughed quietly as he finalized the order and set his phone down. "There. Pizza incoming in thirty-five minutes."
"Perfect," she said, plopping down onto the couch and grabbing the remote. "Now comes the real issue — which movie?"
Dhruv groaned, already knowing where this was going. "We're going to argue, aren't we?"
"Probably," she said sweetly. "Okay, my pick — Zindagi Naa Milegi Dobaara."
He blinked. "Again?"
She gasped, clutching her chest. "Again?! Dhruv, it's a classic!"
"You've made me watch it twice."
"Correction: once willingly, once when you 'accidentally' fell asleep halfway through."
"That wasn't an accident," he said flatly.
She ignored him, scrolling through the list. "It's nostalgic. It's feel-good. It's—"
"Predictable," he finished for her. "My pick — Inception."
She frowned. "Seriously?"
He nodded. "It's smart. Engaging. Makes you think."
She squinted at him. "I don't want to think, Dhruv. It's movie night, not brain gym."
He smirked. "That's why I said it's my pick."
"Unbelievable," she muttered. "I'm not watching a movie that makes me question reality."
He leaned against the couch, arms crossed. "Then we're at an impasse."
She pursed her lips, pretending to think. "We could flip a coin?"
He looked up, amused. "You're joking."
"No, I'm serious!" she said, holding out her hand. "Give me a coin."
He reached into his wallet, pulled one out, and said, "Heads for Inception, tails for your dramatic love story."
"Hey! It's not just a love story," she said indignantly. "It's about friendship, dreams, and personal growth!"
"Right," he said dryly. "Tails then."
She smirked. "You'll lose."
He flicked the coin expertly into the air. It spun, gleaming under the ceiling lights, and landed on his palm. He covered it, looked at her, and said, "You ready to face defeat?"
She leaned forward. "Let's see it."
He opened his palm slowly — tails.
Vaani squealed. "Ha! Fair and square!"
Dhruv just sighed, smiling despite himself. "Unbelievable. Luck really does favor the loud."
"Loud and charming," she said proudly. "Now move over, we're watching my movie."
He shifted to one side of the couch, shaking his head as she clicked 'play'. "If I fall asleep again, don't wake me."
"You won't," she said confidently. "This movie is impossible to sleep through."
"Challenge accepted," he murmured, leaning back.
The familiar opening credits rolled, and soon the living room filled with music and laughter from the screen. The pizza arrived twenty minutes later — half four cheese, half veggie — and Vaani sat cross-legged with her plate, narrating every emotion as if Dhruv hadn't seen the movie before.
When Bunny gave his speech about chasing dreams, she looked at Dhruv dramatically. "See, that's what life is about — passion and freedom!"
Dhruv, mid-bite, gave her a sideways look. "You realize you're eating pizza in pajamas while saying that, right?"
She rolled her eyes. "Details, Dhruv. Life is about the spirit, not the setup."
He chuckled, shaking his head, and she caught the faint smile he tried to hide. The evening settled into comfortable banter — her narrating lines before they came, him teasing her about it, both of them stealing slices from each other's plate.
By the time the credits rolled, the lights of the city outside glowed through the windows, soft and golden.
Vaani leaned back, satisfied. "Told you it's the best."
Dhruv tilted his head toward her. "Not bad," he admitted.
"Not bad?" she repeated. "That's it?"
"Alright," he said with mock seriousness. "It was... fair and square."
She laughed softly. "I'll take that. Now, next movie. Yeh Jawaani hai Deewani."
He smiled, watching her for a moment before looking back at the TV, where Netflix now asked, 'Play next?'
And for a brief second, he thought — if every night could feel this calm, this easy, maybe he wouldn't mind losing the coin toss every single time.
~·~
They were half way through their second movie and had reached the part where Bunny and Naina were trekking through the mountains — all adrenaline, laughter, and a touch of emotion that always tugged at Vaani's heart.
She sat cross-legged on the couch, completely absorbed, a cushion hugged to her chest and her eyes bright with nostalgia.
Dhruv, on the other hand, was leaning back beside her, a slice of pizza in hand and a faintly amused look on his face as he watched the screen.
"This is such a good scene," Vaani said dreamily, chewing on a bite. "See how they're all bonding? It's so real."
"Real?" Dhruv raised an eyebrow. "They're hiking up a steep mountain without sweating, with perfectly styled hair, and somehow they're still smiling. That's not real, Vaani, that's editing."
She turned to glare at him, her expression exaggeratedly scandalized. "You can't just... say that during the best part!"
He chuckled, unbothered. "I'm just being practical."
"Practical?" she repeated, frowning. "This isn't the time for practicality, Dhruv. It's cinema. Use your heart for once, not your brain."
"I am using my heart," he said simply, sipping his Coke.
She squinted at him. "No, you're using that big business brain of yours that ruins every emotional moment by analyzing camera angles and physics."
He shrugged. "Well, someone has to keep us grounded."
She sighed dramatically, turning back to the screen. "You're crazy."
There was a pause, the faint sounds of the movie filling the silence — the sound of laughter, of snow crunching under boots. Then Dhruv leaned in slightly, his voice quieter, smoother. "Maybe I am crazy," he murmured.
She turned, confused. "For what?"
His lips curved in that soft, teasing half-smile that always got her heart racing. "For you."
Her breath caught, the world — or maybe just the movie — momentarily fading. "Dhruv..." she whispered, eyes darting from his gaze to the way his hand had reached for hers.
He leaned closer, eyes dark and certain, until their foreheads touched lightly. "You said use my heart, not my mind," he whispered, his voice deep and low. "So I am."
Before she could say anything, his lips met hers — gentle at first, then deeper, warmer.
Her hand instinctively rose to his shoulder, and his fingers slid along her jaw, tracing the outline of her face like he was memorizing it.
The air around them seemed to hum with quiet electricity — the movie forgotten, the pizza forgotten, everything fading except the way he kissed her like he had been wanting to for hours.
She smiled against his lips for a second before letting herself melt into the kiss, her heartbeat loud and wild. His hand moved to her waist, drawing her closer as his fingers fiddled with the hem of her top, and she sighed softly — until suddenly, his phone rang loudly on the coffee table.
They froze.
The phone rang again. Dhruv exhaled, head dropping against her shoulder. "You've got to be kidding me."
Vaani chuckled breathlessly, trying to compose herself. "You should... get that."
He groaned, reaching for the phone without even looking. "If it's a spam call, I swear—"
He glanced at the screen. "It's Aarav."
"Then definitely pick it up," she teased, grinning.
He sighed, ran a hand through his hair, and hit answer. "What do you want?"
On the other side came Aarav's voice, full of laughter. "Wow, someone sounds thrilled to hear from me. Did I just interrupt a moment, Dhruv?"
Dhruv leaned back, rubbing his temple. "Shut up."
"Oho," Aarav teased, clearly enjoying himself. "I definitely did. I can practically hear the annoyance dripping from your voice."
"Do you have a point, Aarav?" Dhruv said dryly.
"Yeah, yeah." Aarav chuckled. "So listen — Kabir's in town."
Dhruv blinked, caught off guard. "No way. Kabir? When did he land?"
"This morning," Aarav said. "But he's leaving soon, so we were thinking of catching up tonight. He wanted to see everyone before flying back."
Dhruv paused for a moment, glancing at Vaani. She had tucked her knees up to her chest and was looking at him curiously, trying to guess from his half of the conversation.
"Hold on," Dhruv said into the phone. He covered the mic and turned toward her. "Vaani?"
"Haan?" she said.
"Would you be okay if I go meet the guys tonight?"
She blinked, then burst out laughing. "Why are you asking me like that? I'm not your mom, Dhruv."
He raised a brow. "You're my wife, so technically, I have to inform you."
"Informing and asking are two different things," she teased, grinning.
"Fine," he said, lips twitching. "Consider this both."
She laughed again, shaking her head. "Of course, go! You don't need my permission, Dhruv. I'll be fine here. Go hang out with your friends."
He smiled faintly. "You sure?"
"Go before I change my mind."
He chuckled softly and turned back to the call. "Okay, Aarav — yeah, I'll be there. Give me twenty minutes."
"Good man!" Aarav said cheerfully. "Kabir's at my place. Bring your sarcasm and wallet — we're ordering food."
Dhruv rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. See you."
He cut the call and stood, stretching his arms before walking toward the bedroom. "Guess I'm going out."
"Guess so," Vaani said, smiling at him from the couch.
He quickly changed into jeans and a crisp shirt, fixing his watch as he came back. Vaani looked up at him from where she sat — her movie still playing, but her attention now completely on him.
"You look nice," she said casually, though her voice was soft.
He smiled. "You always say that."
"Because you always do."
He walked over, leaning down to where she sat and gently kissed her forehead. "I'll see you soon, Vaan."
She smiled up at him, eyes warm. "Don't be too late, okay?"
"Promise."
And with that, he grabbed his keys and headed for the door. Vaani watched him leave, a small smile lingering on her lips as the door closed softly behind him. She turned back toward the movie, the echo of his kiss still warm on her skin, and whispered to herself with a chuckle —
"Crazy, huh? Maybe I'm a little crazy too."
~·~
Aarav's apartment hadn't changed much since Dhruv had last been there — the same framed photos of their college days lined the shelf, the same music playing from the speaker, a faint smell of coffee and laughter filling the air. But tonight, it felt different. Maybe because Kabir was back.
"Bhai!" Aarav said, throwing open the door with his usual dramatic energy. "Look who decided to show up!"
Dhruv chuckled, stepping in. "You act like I live on another planet."
"You do, emotionally," Aarav teased, slapping his back. "Come in, come in. Guess who's here?"
"Really?" Dhruv asked unamused, spotting Kabir lounging on the couch with a mug of coffee in hand.
Kabir stood up immediately, grinning from ear to ear. "Dhruv Deshmukh, the man who actually replied to messages for once!"
Dhruv laughed, shaking his hand before pulling him into a brief hug. "You're still as dramatic as ever, huh?"
Kabir grinned. "You missed it. Aarav was just telling me about how married life has turned you into a homebody. I had to see it to believe it."
"Married life has turned me into someone who values peace and quiet," Dhruv corrected calmly, sitting down.
"Peace and quiet?" Aarav echoed. "You mean Vaani keeps you too busy to hang out."
Dhruv just gave a small smirk, pouring himself a drink. "She keeps life interesting. That's all."
Kabir and Aarav exchanged a look — the kind that only old friends shared when they noticed something new about someone they thought they knew completely.
"So," Kabir said, leaning forward. "How's everything? Work? Life? The great married adventure?"
Dhruv relaxed into the couch, thinking for a moment before answering. "Work's good. Life's... good too. Balanced."
Aarav raised an eyebrow. "Balanced? That's a new one. You used to say life was a 'perpetual project that needs optimization.'"
"Guess I've changed," Dhruv said simply, taking a sip.
"Yeah," Aarav said knowingly, smirking. "Love will do that."
Dhruv didn't reply — but a quiet smile tugged at his lips. He didn't need to say anything.
For the next half hour, the three of them slipped easily into old rhythms. They joked, argued about movies, brought up stories from college — the ones that still made them laugh till their stomachs hurt.
Kabir laughed until his eyes watered. "Dhruv, remember that time you fell asleep during finals prep, and Aarav here panicked because he thought you died?"
Aarav threw up his hands. "You didn't move for two hours! How was I supposed to know you weren't dead?"
Dhruv chuckled, shaking his head. "I was just tired. Unlike you, I studied."
"Excuse me?" Aarav said. "I studied — just... not at the same time zone as the exams."
They all burst out laughing again, and for a moment, everything felt light. Familiar. Comfortable.
But somewhere between the laughter and the teasing, Dhruv found himself reaching for his phone. It was almost instinct.
He unlocked it, saw a few work notifications — and one from Vaani.
She had sent a simple message half an hour ago:
You reached?
He typed back quickly,
Yeah. You okay?
The reply came almost instantly.
Yep. Watching the movie we didn't finish.
Pizza's getting cold but still good.
He smiled faintly, fingers tapping against the table before replying,
Don't eat too much junk, Vaan.
Too late :P
He couldn't help but grin. Aarav noticed immediately.
"Ohhh, someone's smiling at his phone," Aarav said in a sing-song tone, nudging Kabir. "Look at that. Dhruv Deshmukh — the man, the myth, the spreadsheet — smiling like a schoolboy."
Kabir smirked. "No way. Is this the same Dhruv who once said emotions are inefficient?"
"Shut up," Dhruv said mildly, but his tone held no real irritation.
"Wow," Aarav said dramatically, leaning back. "He didn't even deny it. He's lost, Kabir. Gone. Utterly in love."
Dhruv rolled his eyes but couldn't suppress a small chuckle.
Kabir pointed at him. "You're not even fighting back. That confirms it."
"Maybe I'm just tired," Dhruv said smoothly.
"Or maybe," Aarav said, grinning, "you're just agreeing with us for once."
Dhruv looked up, feigning confusion. "Agreeing?"
"Yeah," Aarav said. "You, agreeing that you're in love. With your wife, by the way — which, you know, is totally fine."
There was a long pause. Dhruv didn't argue. He just smiled faintly, like someone who didn't want to say yes but also couldn't bring himself to say no.
"Dude," Kabir said, eyes widening. "Did he just... agree by silence?"
Aarav gasped mockingly. "You mean Dhruv 'feelings-are-overrated' Deshmukh actually feels something?"
"Stop being dramatic," Dhruv said, laughing softly.
"Bro, you're blushing," Kabir pointed out.
Dhruv rubbed his temple, trying not to smile too much. "I'm not."
"You are!" Aarav said, leaning closer. "Okay fine, jokes apart — if you love her, tell her."
Dhruv looked at them both, an unreadable expression on his face. "Maybe she knows."
Kabir blinked. "How will she know if you don't tell her?"
Aarav snapped his fingers. "Exactly! She's not a mind reader, Dhruv. You can't just... brood romantically and expect her to decode your heart like a Sudoku."
Dhruv leaned back, amused. "You two have been waiting years for this conversation, haven't you?"
"Absolutely," Kabir said. "Since the day you told me feelings were a distraction from ambition."
Aarav pointed at him like a professor making a crucial point. "Bro, seriously. Don't overthink it. You don't need a grand gesture. Just tell her. She already probably knows it — but hearing it from you will mean something."
For a second, Dhruv didn't answer. His fingers traced the edge of his glass absentmindedly, his gaze distant — thoughtful, but not hesitant.
Then he nodded once. "Hmm."
That was all he said — but it was enough for his friends to exchange a quiet, satisfied look.
"Progress," Aarav muttered under his breath.
Kabir grinned. "Who would've thought? The man who once made a Google Sheet to plan his wedding now needs one to confess his feelings."
Dhruv smirked faintly. "Funny."
"Thank you," Kabir said, mock-bowing. "I've been practicing my wit for this moment."
Aarav raised his glass. "To Dhruv Deshmukh— finally turning into a human being."
Dhruv lifted his own glass, clinking it lightly with theirs. "To bad friends with too many opinions."
They laughed, and the conversation drifted away from love and confessions to travel, work, and memories. Hours passed with stories and banter — like time hadn't moved at all since they were last in the same room.
But even as Dhruv laughed along, part of his mind wandered back to the message thread on his phone. To the simple warmth of Vaani's texts.
And though he didn't say it aloud, somewhere deep inside, he knew — Aarav and Kabir were right.
He was in love.
And maybe, just maybe, it was time to let her know.
??