Chapter 29
The sitting room looked different today. The table lay covered in intricate mehendi patterns, each design more detailed than the last.
Meera sat cross-legged on the sofa, her hands resting in her lap. She remained too composed, and that composure worked against her. It left stillness. Stillness invited memory.
“Look at this one,” Naina leaned in, already turning a page. “Dense work on the palms, lighter toward the wrists so the jewellery stands out.”
Meera nodded automatically. She had not absorbed a single word.
Her mind had already slipped. To the courtyard. To shadows. To his breath against her skin. To the way his voice had changed when he stopped holding himself back.
I will taste every inch of you…
Her fingers curled into her palm.
“And of course,” Naina continued brightly, “we hide Bhai’s name somewhere impossible.”
Impossible.
Meera nearly laughed.
Nothing about Abhinav felt impossible anymore. Terrifying, yes. Impossible, no.
“He should have to work for it,” Naina declared.
Work for it.
Her throat went dry.
Abhinav Kumar Anand would not search patiently for his name. He would probably pin her hand down, stare at her until she lost all coherent thought, and showed him his name herself.
“Where would you like it?” Sarita’s voice came soft.
Meera blinked. “What?”
“Abhinav’s name, beta.”
“Oh.”
Her right hand opened slowly in her lap, palm upward, eyes dropping automatically to the centre.
Warm fingers. Slow circles. His thumb pressing there.
“This part,” she murmured shyly, touching the middle of her palm. “Maybe here.”
Naina leaned forward. “Hidden in the centre?” Her eyes lit up. “That’s actually beautiful.”
Heat rose to Meera’s cheeks.
Naina flipped another page with great satisfaction. “So we use this bridal design.”
Floral patterns spread across the sheet, intricate enough to look alive.
Meera tried to focus on it. Her thoughts refused to stay.
His hands at her waist. His mouth at her neck. The low, pleased sound he made whenever she curled into him.
“I think this is perfect,” Sarita offered. “Elegant. It suits you.”
“Yes,” Meera answered quickly. Too quickly.
Naina’s eyes narrowed.
Sarita studied her more closely. “Are you okay?”
“I feel warm.”
A soft hum came from Sarita, full of understanding.
Meera shifted slightly, hoping movement would restore some dignity. It failed completely. Her body still tingled in places where his hands, and mouth had been.
“I think,” she requested in a small voice. “I should rest for a little while.”
Sarita smiled and patted her head. “Go.”
“Don’t overthink the design,” Naina added. “It’ll look beautiful.”
That had never been the problem.
Meera bent to touch Sarita’s feet and slipped out into the corridor. Cooler air met her face. She exhaled and walked on, trying very hard not to think about her husband-to-be.
The main courtyard thrummed with activity.
Marigold garlands hung in bright strands against pink stone. In the shade, a group of women sat weaving more flowers, their voices rising in wedding songs that had not changed in centuries.
The lyrics spoke of brides. Of waiting. Of first nights. Of whispered promises. Until yesterday, she would have blushed hearing them. Now every line felt far too personal.
Her eyes dropped as she moved past, seeking her room, seeking silence.
A car entered through the main gate. It rolled to a stop near the parking area.
Rajveer Singh Sisodia stepped out. Amar Singh followed. Both walked toward Abhinav’s office.
Warmth spread through Meera’s chest.
Of course. This would end today. Clean. Decisive. Anand Mahal would remain with the family it belonged to.
Relief rushed in so fast it left her lightheaded.
She could have turned away. Instead, she followed. Not close enough to draw attention. Just enough.
She wanted to hear him refuse.
The corridor stretched head. She moved quietly. She knew these paths. Which stones echoed. Which corners deepened enough to hide a person.
She had grown up inside these walls. She knew how to disappear within them.
Outside his office, she stopped. The door stood slightly open. Voices reached her through the gap. She pressed against the wall beside it, hidden.
“…the map confirms the boundaries,” Amar’s voice. “The valuation matches current market rates.”
Meera frowned.
That didn’t sound like refusal. Formalities first, perhaps.
“The contracts are ready,” Rajveer added. “We may proceed.”
Paper shifted. Pages turned.
Her breath slowed. She waited.
“The payment terms are acceptable.” Abhinav’s voice. Calm. Controlled.
The same voice that had brushed against her skin hours ago. The same voice that had confessed he did not know how to return to the man he had been before her. The same voice that had asked her to marry him.
I want all of us together.
The memory rose instantly.
I want your father to know everything he gave came back to his daughter.
And now… “Let’s finalize this.”
For one impossible second, her mind simply refused to understand the words.
Cold spread through the corridor so sharply it felt physical. The stone beneath her palm leeched warmth from her skin. Her thoughts scrambled desperately for another explanation that would make sense.
There had to be one.
There had to be.
A pen moved across paper. One signature. Another. Ink sealed the decision.
“Excellent,” Amar responded, satisfaction clear. “Transfer can begin next week. After the wedding festivities.”
The pen moved again. Another page. Another signature. Another piece gone.
Meera stared at the thin strip of light under the door.
Knock.
The urge rose at once.
Walk in. Ask him. Demand an answer. Tell him she stood outside while he signed away the Haveli where he had held her and promised her a future.
Her body did not obey.
What if there was no explanation? What if he looked at her with the same calm and repeated the same words to her face? What if the man who had kissed her in the dark and the man signing those papers had the same intention all along?
That possibility hollowed her out so completely she couldn’t force herself to touch the door.
Inside, papers moved. Voices continued. Business went on.
She stepped back. Then another step.
Her feet carried her away through corridors and archways that had witnessed generations pass. Walls her family had guarded with loyalty and years of devotion.
She passed the fountain where she had splashed in summer afternoons as a child. Passed the place where a lamp burned for Kul Devi, untouched by what unfolded around it.
The wedding songs followed her. Songs of brides crossing into forever.
They sounded cruel now.
But the most unbearable part… Her body still remembered him. Her skin carried the memory of his mouth. His hands at her waist. His voice, low and claiming.
Mine.
The word echoed through her with brutal clarity. And over it came the scratch of pen against paper.
She did not recall choosing a direction. At some point, she reached the old wing where sound thinned and the air felt older.
She lowered herself against the stone wall, her legs folding beneath her.
Her eyes fixed ahead without focus.
In five days, she would stand beside him before the sacred fire. Bridal red and gold. A smile for everyone watching. A future beginning inside a Haveli he had already chosen to give away.
A week later, strangers would walk these corridors. Strangers would claim the courtyard where he had first touched her. Strangers would take charge of the place her family had served for generations.
She tried to hold both versions of him together.
The man who had looked at her like she was his world. And the man seated behind that desk, signing her home away.
They refused to become one person.
The emptiness inside her did not feel loud enough to be heartbreak. It felt deeper than that. Far more dangerous.
A hollow space where certainty had lived only minutes ago.
◆◆◆
Abhinav read through the contract summary one last time before replying to Kishore. His fingers moved across the keyboard, outlining the boundaries agreed upon with Rajveer and fixing the payment schedule.
The deal was done. Exactly as planned.
He hit send and allowed himself a small smile. Five days until the wedding. Everything was falling into place.
The door burst open.
Rajan stood at the threshold, pale, breath uneven, hands twisting together. “Hukum.”
Abhinav looked up. One glance at the boy’s face and the air in the room shifted. “What happened?”
“Meera didi…” Rajan swallowed. “She’s missing.”
“Missing?” The chair scraped against the floor as Abhinav rose. “How long?”
“Two hours. Maybe more. Her phone is left behind. Babuji and Gauri Maa Sa are searching everywhere. No one can find her.”
Abhinav was already moving before the words ended.
“Find Maa,” he ordered, striding past Rajan. “Tell her exactly what you told me.”
His shoes struck against the stone corridor as he walked fast. His mind raced faster.
Two hours. Phone left behind.
Meera, who informed people before stepping out for ten minutes. Meera, who knew every corridor, every blind corner of the Haveli.
This wasn’t carelessness. This was wrong.
He stepped into the courtyard.
Devendra stood at the center, surrounded by staff, giving instructions. His posture remained upright, but his hands were clasped too tight.
Relief crossed his face on seeing Abhinav. “Thakur Sa…”
“When was she last seen?”
“Two hours ago.” Devendra’s voice tightened. “Walking back to the quarters.”
“What was she wearing?”
“Yellow.” His composure cracked slightly. “She always tells us where she’s going. Always.”
Abhinav placed a hand on his shoulder. “Where have you checked, Uncle?”
“The temple first. Every room after. The guards at the gate did not see her leave.” Devendra drew in a breath. “This is not normal for her.”
“We’ll find her.” The promise came automatically. It had to.
At the far end, Gauri stood unmoving, hands folded before her. When her eyes met Abhinav’s, the calm fell away.
A mother’s silent plea, stripped of dignity.
Find her.
It struck deeper than panic.