CHAPTER 52! KABIR? #2
"Wait for him if you must," Gauri whispered. "But don't ask me to sit here quietly and watch you put your whole life on hold for a man who isn't here."
Gauri turned and walked into the kitchen, leaving the door open behind her.
Kashvi stood alone in the dining room. The silence pressed heavily against her chest. Slowly, she grabbed her bag and coat.
"I need fresh air."
She opened the front door and stepped out into the cool evening air.
The commercial street vibrated with routine life. Neon signs flickered above the crowded pavement, vendors called out prices, and evening shoppers walked past in groups.
Kashvi walked aimlessly through the crowd until she stopped near a small wooden stall displaying handmade metal trinkets.
Her eyes drifted over the tray until they caught a pair of dark, matching brass bracelets resting on black felt.
Months ago, Vivaan had stopped at a similar roadside stall with her, looking at the crude metalwork with clear disdain.
"You actually like this rustic stuff?" he had asked, scoffing openly even as he pulled out his wallet and bought it for her anyway.
"Shall I pack it for you, Didi?" the vendor asked, noticing her gaze.
Kashvi hesitated, her fingers tightening around her purse strap.
"Yes," she whispered. "Please."
She paid, took the paper bag, and slipped it deep into her coat pocket, her fingers remaining inside the fabric, feeling the hard edges through the paper wrapper.
She walked past the glowing storefronts, her thumbs running over the packaging inside her pocket.
For a few brief meters, surrounded by the ordinary noise of the crowd, she let herself wonder if there would ever come a day when she could hand it to him-if he would laugh at the crude brass just like he used to, or if he would simply turn away.
Kashvi reached the corner of a busy intersection and stopped.
Across the street, bathed in the amber light of a luxury watch boutique, stood Vivaan.
He wore his dark charcoal coat, hands casually tucked into his pockets. For one impossible second, Kashvi forgot everything-the arguments, the silence, the painful months between them.
Her breath caught. She took a step forward, ready to cross the street, ready to tell him she was tired of fighting.
Then she noticed the woman standing beside him.
The woman wore a cream coat and was speaking animatedly.
As a passing rickshaw swerved close to the pavement, the woman lost her footing slightly on her heels.
Vivaan reached out on instinct, catching her elbow to steady her.
Kashvi froze on the curb. She tried to tell herself it meant nothing.
A stranger. A colleague.
Then the woman held up a dark leather watch strap and turned back to Vivaan. Vivaan extended his arm without annoyance, standing still as she wrapped the leather strap around his wrist to check the size.
Kashvi took a slow step backward as the noise of the market faded into a dull, hollow hum.
From where she stood, the interaction looked effortless. Familiar. Intimate.
Vivaan hated being touched. He had always hated it.
So why was he standing perfectly still while another woman's fingers circled his wrist?
Kashvi turned around, flagged down a passing yellow taxi, and pulled the door open.
She slid into the back seat, ignoring the driver's surprised glance.
"Drive," she said quietly. "Please."
The taxi pulled out into the main stream of traffic.
Kashvi pressed her forehead against the cool windowpane, watching the streetlights blur into long streaks of gold.
She reached into her pocket and closed her fist tightly around the paper bag. The brass edge pressed deeper into her palm.
She didn't let go.
Kashvi reached home just as the streetlights hummed to life along the driveway.
The house was quiet. In the living room, Gauri sat on the edge of the sofa, the television playing softly behind her.
The second the front door clicked shut, Gauri looked up.
"Kashvi?"
Kashvi stopped near the doorway, staring at the floorboards before forcing her gaze upward.
The moment she saw her mother, the image from the market flashed behind her eyes-Vivaan standing in the crowded street, catching the young woman's elbow, answering her laugh with that unreadable, steady presence Kashvi knew all too well.
He hadn't looked back even once.
Gauri stood up, smoothing her sari.
"You came late."
"Hmm."
"Everything okay?"
"I'm fine," Kashvi murmured.
Gauri didn't believe her. She stepped closer.
"The boy's family called again while you were out. I told them we needed time, but-"
"Maa, please."
The raw pain in Kashvi's voice made Gauri freeze mid-step.
"What happened, beta?" Gauri asked, her eyes softening.
Kashvi didn't explain. She simply stepped forward and hugged her tightly, burying her face into her mother's shoulder.
Gauri wrapped her arms around her daughter and held her, asking nothing more.
While they stood there, Gauri's phone on the glass coffee table began to buzz. The screen lit up with the same family's caller ID.
Gauri reached out to silence it, but Kashvi pulled back, wiping her cheek.
"Maa," Kashvi whispered. "Pick up."
Gauri frowned.
"It's okay. You don't need to do this today."
"I'll meet him."
Gauri looked surprised.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes," Kashvi said. "I'll meet him. But if I don't like him, no more boys. Promise?"
Gauri gave her a tired, gentle smile. "I've met him myself, Kashvi. He's a decent boy."
"Maa..."
"What? I'm not asking you to marry him tomorrow," Gauri said softly, cupping her cheeks and kissing her forehead.
"Just meet him. Then we'll decide."
Kashvi gave a small smile, but it didn't reach her eyes.
"I'm going to my room to freshen up."
She walked upstairs with quiet steps. The moment the lock turned in her bedroom, her knees gave out.
Kashvi slid down against the door, wrapping both arms tight around her legs. She cried into her knees, trying to keep herself quiet, but every memory of Vivaan only tightened the ache-his quiet voice, his rare, guarded smiles, the way he had looked at her only forty-eight hours ago.
She raised her head, her vision landing on her handbag resting on the chair. Sticking out from the top was the oversized plush bear she had bought at the market in a haze of distraction.
Kashvi pulled herself up, grabbed the plush toy, and shoved it straight into the trash bin in the corner. She turned away.
Three steps later, she stopped. She turned right back around.
"Kya problem hai tumse?" she snapped at the bin, her voice cracking in the quiet room. "Kyun khadi ho wahan?"
The room gave no answer.
"...Idiot," she whispered.
She reached in, pulled the bear out, wiped a speck of dust off its ear, and set it on her desk. Then she sank into the chair beside it.
Across the nightstand, her phone buzzed. She picked it up. "...Hello?"
"Kashvi?" Aadhira's voice came through. "Listen main kya keh rahi hu..."
Kashvi tried to hold it together, but her voice cracked instantly. "Aadhira..."
Aadhira heard the tears in Kashvi's voice.
"Kashvi, what happened? Where are you? Stay there, I'm coming."
"No... I'm at home."
"Why are you crying?"
Kashvi pressed a palm over her mouth. "Vivaan..." She swallowed hard.
"I saw him with a girl today."
A silence fell over the line.
For one minute.
"Vivaan? Are you sure, Kashvi? It must be a misunderstanding."
"It's not, Aadhira. He was with her. He caught her when she stumbled... he touched her like it was completely normal." The details poured out in a frantic whisper-the market, the woman, the easy way he stayed beside her.
"He didn't even hesitate. He wasn't even bothered. He looked completely normal. Like nothing ever happened between us. Like he never loved me."
"You saw one minute, Kashvi," Aadhira said gently. "Don't write the whole story because of it."
She paused. "Did he laugh?"
"No," Kashvi's voice broke softly. "Just... quiet. Like always. Unbothered. As if I never existed. That's the worst part. Why did it hurt so much?"
Aadhira closed her eyes, unable to answer.
"I told Maa I'd meet Kabir tomorrow," Kashvi cut in, wiping her nose.
Aadhira looked toward her balcony glass. Outside, the shadow of guards moved silently across the gate.
"Kashvi, no," Aadhira urged softly. "Don't rush into anything. Don't meet anyone right now."
"Don't worry, Aadhira. I'm not marrying him tomorrow. It's just a talk."
Aadhira exhaled. "... Fine than I'm also coming with you."
.
.
.
The restaurant was busy for a Sunday afternoon. Families filled most of the indoor tables, and the open-air terrace looked out over the lake.
Kashvi slowed her pace near the wide entrance doors. "I can still leave."
Aadhira looked at her sideways.
"You can."
Kashvi blinked. "Really?"
"Yes. I am ready to hear your mother complain about it for the next ten years, don't worry."
Kashvi's lips twitched.
"You're not helping."
"I'm trying," Aadhira said, guiding her inside.
"Now come on."
They were shown to a sunlit table near the glass windows. Across the table, two men stood up. Aadhira chose the seat facing the entrance out of habit.
The man on the left pulled his chair back a little too fast, bumping his glass of ice water.
He caught it just in time, clearing his throat.
"Hi. I'm Kabir." He extended a hand, paused, and pulled it back.
"And this is Rajiv, who is strictly here to make sure I don't embarrass my family before the food arrives."
Rajiv gave a dry smile.
"It's a full-time job."
"Kashvi... and she is my friend aadhira."
Aadhira gave a polite smile.
Kashvi sat down, her smile fake.
The waiter arrived, set down water glasses, and handed over menus.
Kashvi picked hers up, staring blankly at the front page.
"Relax," Aadhira whispered beside her.
"I'm trying," Kashvi muttered.
"You're holding the menu upside down."
Kashvi looked down. She was.
Aadhira covered her smile with her hand.
"Don't laugh," Kashvi hissed.
"I'm not."
"You are."
"A little."