CHAPTER 39! MERE PATI HAI
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The last day of the Rishikesh trip began with what Arush proudly called a flawless plan.
Which should have been everyone's first warning.
The fifteen-seater traveler he had chartered managed to survive forty minutes of mountain roads before sputtering twice, making a sickening metallic crunch, and dying in the middle of nowhere.
Dense forest stretched out in every direction. No shops. No houses. No cell service. Just endless, towering trees.
Then the rain began.
The family sat tightly crammed inside the motionless vehicle while the mountain temperature plummeted.
"This is precisely how horror movies start," Reyansh announced cheerfully from the back seat.
"Please stop talking," Myra replied without looking back.
"I am contributing to the atmosphere."
Outside, the downpour intensified, drumming a relentless rhythm against the roof.
Aryav had stepped out briefly, utilizing a fleeting bar of signal to arrange for a replacement vehicle, but transit through the ghats would take hours.
When he climbed back inside, the wet leather of his jacket brought a cold, heavy stillness with it.
He didn't complain about the delay.
In the cabin, Ayaan was shivering despite his heavy jacket. Vaani had fallen asleep against vivaan’s shoulder.
Kashvi tapped the rain-streaked window. "Wait. Look over there."
A small house stood several hundred meters away, partially hidden among the trees.
"Why don't we ask if they'll let us stay there until help arrives?" she suggested.
The idea was met with immediate approval.
At this point, they would have accepted shelter from a serial killer as long as it came with a roof.
Minutes later, the drenched group hurried through the storm to reach the porch. Tara rang the bell. The door opened.
An elderly woman stood on the other side.
Tara asked "Namaste, Dadiji. We're tourists, and our vehicle has broken down. Could we please stay here until the rain stops?"
The old woman gaze traveling from one face to the next.
Eleven people. That was a lot of strangers to let into an isolated home.
She hesitated, her hand tightening on the edge of the door.
Then her eyes shifted past Tara, settling on the tall, silent figure standing at the back of the group.
Aryav didn't move. He wasn't smiling. He wasn't speaking. Yet her eyes lingered on him.
She couldn't explain what unsettled her. It wasn't anger. It was the quiet certainty of a man who behaved as though the world usually moved before he asked it to.
Under his unblinking weight, the woman's posture shifted from defensive to wary.
Before she could speak, Reyansh stepped forward, pointing toward the shivering children. "We have kids."
The woman’s expression softened slightly. Sensing a tactical opening, Arush launched himself into the negotiation.
"And..." he said, gesturing with a grand flourish toward Aadhira.
Everyone looked at him.
"So?"
Arush pointed a direct finger at her. "This woman is pregnant."
The rain hammered the tin roof.
Somewhere in the forest, a bird called.
Nobody moved. Nobody even blinked.
Arush smiled weakly. "...I can explain."
Aryav's eyes dropped. Just once. To Aadhira's stomach. It lasted less than a second before returning to Arush. Irritating.
She caught his glance. Her hand immediately went to her stomach.
"Aap sochna bhi mat," she muttered under her breath.
Aryav held her eyes. "Maine kya socha?"
"Jo bhi."
He watched her hand still resting there.
He moved past her only far enough to get the children out of the rain, stopping just beneath the porch roof.
Aadhira looked down. Only then did she realize... she really had placed her hand over her stomach without thinking.
Her fingers curled against the fabric before she dropped her hand, her face burning.
Slowly, every head in the family turned toward Aryav.
Arush felt his survival instincts activate. "Listen... in my defense... actually, I don't have a defense."
The elderly woman looked at Aadhira, then at the freezing rain, and finally stepped aside.
"Fine. You can come inside. But my house is small. You'll all have to adjust in one hall."
"We'll adjust," Kashvi promised instantly.
The family rushed through the doorway to escape the storm.
As they filed past, Aadhira walked past Arush. She didn't say a single word.
Arush swallowed nervously, glancing toward the corner where Aryav had already positioned himself. "She is going to kill me later, isn't she?"
"She might use a knife," Reyansh murmured back. "Bhabhi se maafi mil bhi gayi... Aryav bhai se toh Bhagwan hi bachaye."
The central hall occupied most of the house, furnished with old wooden furniture and a brick fireplace.
The others dropped bags, argued over blankets, and fought for space near the fireplace. Aryav took the chair nearest the door.
Aadhira watched him sit. She noticed his eyes track the unlocked back window, the faint muddy footprints near the kitchen hallway, and the old hunting rifle mounted above the mantle.
He didn't look at the fire. He didn't look at the blankets. He simply sat where everything remained within sight.
Ayaan dragged his heavy blanket across the floor, settling two feet from Aryav's chair.
Vaani followed without thinking, curling up right beside him.
"We're fine," Reyansh announced confidently, taking two steps forward and walking directly into a low coffee table. "I just injured myself."
"No one cares," Tara replied.
Meanwhile, Aadhira stood near the entryway, her gaze locked onto Arush.
Arush immediately looked at the ceiling.
Aadhira took one deliberate step forward. "Tera dimaag kharab ho gaya hai? Sabke saamne aise Bolte hai?"
"Hear me out—"
"You told a stranger I'm pregnant!"
"It was pouring!"
"To main hi mili thi?"
"Par andar toh aa gaye!" Arush defended, pointing triumphantly at the roof.
"Look we are dry?"
"Wow," Aadhira’s voice rose. "Toh apna bol deta na ki main pregnant hoon!"
"Kya par main to ladka hu?"
"Ha to iski complaint bhagwan se karo."
"Waise asli hero toh imaginary baby nikla," Reyansh added helpfully.
"Main toh arush ke side hoon."
Aadhira’s lethal gaze snapped to him. "Get out."
"This isn't even our house."
"Then get out of the room."
Tara broke first, a snort of laughter escaping her. Within seconds, the tension fractured into a wave of collective amusement.
The entire room was laughing.
Aryav looked away from the laughter.
Aadhira crossed her arms, her chest heaving as she tried to ignore the teasing.
Her eyes drifted toward the door, catching Aryav watching her from his corner.
He hadn't joined in the laughter.
Aadhira narrowed her eyes, focusing her frustration on him.
"Aur aap kuch bole bhi nahi?"
The room went dead silent. The family's banter evaporated, replaced by an intense, collective fascination.
Everyone knew better than to poke the tiger, but Aadhira was walking right up to the bars.
Aryav held her gaze, the shadows of the dim room cutting sharp lines across his face. "You didn't require rescuing."
Aadhira blinked. "That's not the point."
"No."
A pause.
"It isn't."
"You didn't offer a single word of contradiction out there."
"Why would I interfere?" His voice remained flat. "You looked perfectly capable of making him regret waking up this morning."
Aadhira stared. Aryav's gaze lowered, tracking the rapid pulse at the base of her throat, before returning to her eyes.
"Besides," Aryav said, his voice dropping, "if there had been a problem... Arush wouldn't have remained your problem."
She held his gaze. It wasn't a promise. It wasn't reassurance. It was absolute certainty.
He hadn't raised his voice, but somehow, that made it harder to look away. For reasons she couldn't explain, the anger she'd been holding onto felt much smaller.
Her throat went dry, her defensive posture faltering under the weight behind his eyes.
A slow grin spread across Reyansh’s face, shattering the silence.
"Bhai flirt kare hai bhabhi ke sath ... main zinda hoon yeh dekhne ke liye?"
Nobody answered.
Aadhira turned away quickly to hide the flush creeping up her neck.
Tara covered her face to hide her grin, while Kashvi looked thoroughly delighted.
Arjun looked at Aryav.
Aryav picked up his tea.
No denial. Silence.
That silence became the answer.
Outside, the rain continued to lash against the mountainside, hammering the tin roof.
For the first time since she'd met him, the idea refused to leave her.
Why had he started looking at her like that?
The old woman returned a few minutes later carrying a heavy brass tray laden with steaming cups of tea.
The rich, spiced aroma instantly cut through the damp chill of the room.
"Tea," Reyansh muttered, looking at his cup with genuine reverence.
"Finally, a return to civilization."
"You’ve been stranded for exactly two hours," Myra deadpanned.
"It was a dark, formative two hours."
The old woman chuckled softly, distributing the cups.
One by one, the family accepted them with quiet murmurs of gratitude. Slowly, the warmth of the tea, the crackling fireplace, and the steady hum of rain against the tin roof began to take effect.
The children surrendered first.
Ayaan curled up beneath a heavy quilt near the hearth, his breathing slowing almost instantly. Vaani followed minutes later, her head slumping heavily onto Kashvi’s lap.
The adults tried to last longer, but the exhaustion of the mountain roads caught up to them.
Arush drifted off in the middle of a sentence, his head tilting back against the wooden sofa.
Nobody was surprised.