Chapter 3 Pinky Promise
ADITYA
She looks smaller than she did in the bookstore.
Not physically—she is sitting the same way she stood then, straight-backed, shoulders squared as if she has trained herself to occupy as little emotional space as possible.
But something about her presence feels quieter now, dimmer somehow, like the light that had briefly flickered in her eyes that day has been pushed back by exhaustion.
The woman who had laughed at my absurd proposal two days ago now sits across from me in the small meeting room of my office like someone carrying a weight that hasn’t let her sleep in days.
The room itself is simple—just a wooden table between us, a couple of chairs, and the wall-length shelves of books behind me that spill out into the larger library space beyond the glass door.
Usually this room feels warm, almost comforting, but right now the air between us feels heavy with everything neither of us is saying out loud.
Her hands are clasped tightly together on the table. Fingers intertwined so firmly that the skin across her knuckles has turned pale. Every few seconds she presses her thumbs together unconsciously, like she’s trying to steady herself without anyone noticing.
Divya Rathi.
I repeat her name silently in my mind, tasting the sound of it again.
It suits her.
There’s something dignified about it. Strong. The kind of name that feels rooted in something older, steadier than the chaos she’s clearly living through right now.
Across the room, a small boy wanders slowly between the tall bookshelves that line the wall.
I assume he’s her brother.
Neel. As she introduced. He moves along the shelves with exaggerated seriousness, his small hands clasped neatly behind his back as he studies the rows of books one by one. Every few steps he stops, leans forward slightly, and squints at the titles like he’s conducting some kind of inspection.
It’s an oddly formal posture for a child.
Like a tiny old professor examining a library he’s responsible for maintaining.
Divya notices where my gaze has drifted.
She follows it over her shoulder and watches him for a moment before letting out a small, awkward laugh. It’s warm, but there’s nervousness under it.
“I might sound very desperate right now.”
Her voice carries that same tired edge I noticed the first time we spoke. It bothers me more than it should.
I lean back slightly in my chair, letting one arm rest loosely over the backrest as I offer her a small smile.
“I’m the one who’s desperate, Divya.” Her head lifts quickly at the sound of her name.
For a brief second our eyes meet properly.
I shrug lightly. “You’re actually solving a very large problem for me.
” That’s the truth. If she assumes I am doing her some sort of heroic favor.
That I’m stepping in to rescue her from a bad situation.
But the reality is much simpler than that. Without a marriage certificate, my father’s will takes away the one thing that has ever truly mattered to me.
Ink & Ivory.
The publishing house my grandmother built with nothing but stubborn faith in stories. The only place where I’ve ever felt like myself.
Divya exhales slowly, as if she’s been holding her breath this entire time. “I have a few conditions.” Her voice is steadier now. "And I know I am in no place-"
I interrupt her, "Please Divya," I smile softly, "there's no need to be this formal." I nod in encouragement, “Go on.”
She glances toward the shelves again where Neel has now crouched down near the bottom row, carefully pulling out a book and examining the cover with deep concentration.
“I will not move from my house,” she says. The words come quickly, almost rehearsed. “My brother has already lost too much.”
She gestures lightly toward him. “He’s so young..." Her voice softens when she says that. I follow her gaze again. The boy is now running his fingers slowly across the spine of another book, whispering the title under his breath as he reads it. “He doesn’t need more changes,” she finishes quietly.
“And for yourself too,” I add. Her head snaps back toward me. For a moment she simply stares at me, clearly surprised. Then she lets out a weak chuckle. “I hate your mind-reading skills.”
I laugh softly under my breath. “Well,” I say lightly, “you’ll have to live with them for a while.”
Her smile fades slowly after that. The silence that settles between us lingers just long enough to become noticeable. Then she straightens slightly in her chair, as if reminding herself why she came here.
“We will not dictate each other’s lives.
” Her voice is firmer now. “You do what you want.” She adds quickly, “I do the same.” She lifts her gaze again, holding mine this time.
“I don’t mind if you have other relationships.
” The sentence lands between us like a dropped glass.
Sharp. Unexpected. “I won’t,” she continues quickly. “Because marriage is sacred to me.”
“Divya.” Her name leaves my mouth more firmly than I intend. She stops speaking immediately. I lean forward slightly, resting my arms on the table now. “I will be loyal to you.”
Her eyes widen faintly. For a second she looks almost embarrassed, like she didn’t expect that answer. “Okay,” she murmurs quietly.
Her gaze drops back down to the table. A strand of hair slips loose from behind her ear, and she tucks it back nervously. Then she asks the question she’s clearly been dreading. “Is it possible for you to pay my loans before the weekend?”
She doesn’t look at me when she says it. Her eyes remain fixed on her hands. The shame in that small gesture twists something uncomfortable in my chest.
“Yes.” I keep the answer simple. There’s no reason to make this moment harder for her by discussing numbers or logistics.
She nods slowly.
Across the room Neel has now discovered the rolling ladder attached to the tallest bookshelf and is examining it like it might be the most fascinating invention he has ever encountered.
“Neel,” she whispers suddenly.
When she looks back at me, her eyes are shining faintly with unshed tears. “He’s an old man stuck in a child’s body.” She laughs quietly. I glance toward him again. He has returned to his strange little inspection routine, hands clasped behind his back as he studies another row of books.
I can’t help smiling. “He looks very serious.”
“He is.” Her voice softens again. “He’s everything to me.” The sentence carries more weight than anything she said earlier. “And although you don’t have to take any responsibility for him,” she continues carefully, “I would really appreciate it if you were kind to him.”
She pauses briefly before adding, “Even when he sounds rude.” I raise an eyebrow. “He’s protective,” she explains quickly. She exhales slowly before tucking another loose strand of hair behind her ear. I smile.
“You have nothing to worry about.” She studies my face carefully. “I’m sure we’ll be good friends.” She laughs immediately. This time the sound is genuine.
“You can try,” she says, shaking her head slightly. “But when it comes to me… he can be a little scary.”
I laugh. “Well then,” I say thoughtfully, “I suppose I’ll have to join his team.”
Her expression shifts at that. She looks slightly taken aback.
I sigh quietly. “You don’t have to worry, Divya.” I lean forward slightly again. “I know this situation is sudden.” My voice softens. “But I promise I will never do anything that makes you or your brother uncomfortable.”
For a moment she simply looks at me. Then she nods.
“Neel,” she calls softly. The boy turns immediately. He runs toward us with the quick energetic steps only children seem capable of.
“Didi!” He stops beside her chair. “There are so many books here that I want.” Divya presses a finger lightly to her lips. “Shh.”
“The books belong to him,” she says gently, nodding toward me. Neel looks at me cautiously.
“But,” I add with a smile, “you can definitely have as many as you want.” His entire face lights up.
“Really?”
“Really.”
He beams. “Thank you, Mr—” He trails off awkwardly.
“Aditya,” I supply.
“Thank you, Mr. Aditya,” he says proudly. “You are very kind.”
I laugh softly. She wasn’t exaggerating. He really does speak like a miniature adult.
“You’re welcome, Neel.”
Divya watches him with a soft smile. Then she says quietly, “I’m getting married to him.
” But there’s uncertainty in her voice. Like the sentence still feels strange even as she says it.
Neel’s smile disappears immediately. His eyes move slowly between his sister and me.
Then he walks closer. Very slowly. Very deliberately.
He stops directly in front of my chair. His small chin lifts slightly as he tries to look intimidating.
“Do you like my sister?” I glance briefly at Divya. Her eyes widen in horror.
I nod calmly. “Yes.” Neel studies my face carefully.
“You will take care of her?”
“Yes.”
He frowns. “The bank man makes her cry.”
“Neel!” Divya gasps. But he ignores her. His gaze remains locked on mine.
“Will you take care of him?” For a second I don’t understand the question. Then I realize what he means. Will I stop him. Will I protect her.
I smile. “Yes.”
His expression relaxes slightly. “Okay.”
Then he adds very seriously, “But if you hurt my didi, I will kick you.”
I chuckle. “That sounds fair.”
He holds up his pinky finger. “You promise?”
I hook my finger around his without hesitation. And as I do—I glance up at Divya. She looks like she’s two seconds away from crying.
“Yes,” I say quietly. “pinky promise.”