CHAPTER 15 Kavita
Kavita
Not only did Neel’s arrival help solve my worries about the lehenga, but I don’t know if I could have done anything without him this morning. He showed up at just the right time, helped with the lehenga, and even made me tea. I’m so grateful he came, even though I’m not sure why he was here.
I’ve been trying to act cool about the kiss, but seeing him this morning almost made me lose my composure. My heart beats faster every time I see him.
The lehenga is distraction enough for now as I find myself precariously perched on the back of my scooter, facing backward with my back pressed against Neel’s.
The enormous lehenga sprawls across my lap, a voluminous cloud of fabric that completely blocks my view.
I clutch the precious garment tightly, already feeling the strain in my arms from keeping it secure.
“Are you okay back there?” Neel calls over his shoulder as he starts the scooter.
“I think so,” I reply, trying to sound more confident than I feel.
The truth is, I’m terrified of dropping the lehenga or losing my balance.
I had considered calling a cab, but at this early hour and with such short notice, it seemed impossible.
Plus, the thought of cramming this massive dress into a small cab seemed even more daunting.
As Neel navigates through the morning traffic, I’m bouncing at every bump and turn. The lehenga shifts with each movement, and my fingers cramp from the effort of constantly readjusting my grip. The wind whips around us, threatening to catch the lightweight fabric and tear it from my grasp.
“Hang on tight!” Neel warns as we approach a speed bump. I brace myself, pressing my back more firmly against his.
The cool morning air rushes past, but I barely notice it, too focused on my precious cargo. It’s just about eight o’clock, and those few minutes on the scooter feel like an eternity.
Finally, we arrive at the bride’s hotel, where we need to deliver the lehenga.
As I carefully dismount, my legs wobble from the tension of the ride. Neel helps me balance the lehenga as I regain my footing. “You did great,” he says with an encouraging smile.
The bride hugs me with delight as I show her what I’ve managed to accomplish, and once she has happily tried on the lehenga and made sure it fits, I’m absolutely relieved.
Neel smiles as I walk back to the scooter and hop on behind him. With the delivery successfully completed, a wave of exhaustion washes over me. This time, without the bulky lehenga to manage, I wrap my arms comfortably around Neel’s waist.
Pretty soon, he’s zooming off, navigating through the morning traffic. The ride back feels completely different—liberating and almost exhilarating. With the pressure of the delivery behind me, I let myself enjoy the cool morning breeze and the closeness of Neel.
I rest my cheek against his back, allowing myself a moment of contentment as we weave through the city’s bustling morning traffic.
“Why were you at the boutique this morning?” I ask, finally getting the chance to bring it up.
“What?” he shouts over the noise of the scooter and the wind rushing past us.
“I didn’t get a chance to ask you why you came,” I clarify, leaning closer to his ear.
“Oh, I was running in the park, and I thought I’d drop by to discuss the event logistics with you,” he replies, his eyes focused on the road ahead.
I nod, then realize he can’t see me. “That’s great! I’m glad you did. I wanted to call you about that, too, but I realized I didn’t have your number.”
Though there were other reasons I wanted to call him, too.
Like to hear his voice, to tell him I would have liked us to keep kissing that night, to ask him if he felt that way too.
But I don’t tell him all that. I don’t want to push too hard.
I want whatever this is between us to unfold naturally.
I’m scared it’ll ruin our friendship otherwise. I think too much! I should stop!
Once we’re back at the boutique, I invite him inside.
“I know this place is still a mess,” I say, tidying up as best as I can.
He moves a large piece of fabric draped over the couch before he sits down. “This looks way better than it did this morning,” he jokes, flashing me a grin.
Oh, the way his lips curve. I want to kiss him again, but I must restrain myself.
We talk about the sponsors and the events, and before I know it, time has flown by.
As we wrap up, we exchange phone numbers, and I tell him I’ll invite him to the rehearsal soon.
“I will be there. Can’t wait to see your collection,” he says.
“Thank you for doing this for the park,” I say as he rises to leave.
“For the park,” he echoes, his eyes meeting mine. “And...also for you,” he adds with a soft smile.
I bite my lip, feeling a warm tenderness fill my chest. His words linger, making me smile at nothing for the rest of the day.
***
I’ve been so swamped with work at the boutique that I haven’t had a chance to talk to my friends about the fashion show. I finally have a moment to catch up with Kiara and Khushi over a video call at the end of the week.
We discuss the outfits I’ve been designing, and I tell them that we have found older models but still don’t know where to find younger models for our theme.
“Why don’t we ask a few of your brides-to-be to be the younger models?” Khushi suggests.
Soon, we’re talking excitedly again, making the rest of the plans. Kiara and Khushi update me on the progress they’ve been making.
“Neel’s company is sponsoring the whole event,” I mention, also telling them how he helped me with the latest lehenga disaster.
I laugh as I tell them how he took me on my scooter for the lehenga delivery and how I would have had a really tough time if he hadn’t come.
“Guys, you should have seen how crazy that morning was!” I say. “Until Neel walked in,” I add dreamily.
“I’m already loving this whole conversation about Neel,” Khushi blurts out, a mischievous grin on her face. “And it looks like you’re into him.”
“What?” I say, taken aback by her directness.
“You’ve been talking about him non-stop,” Kiara points out, her eyebrows raised.
“Have I?” Warmth rises to my cheeks. “I didn’t realize...” I trail off, knowing deep down that they’re right. I shake my head. “Guys, it’s complicated. I feel like I’m in unknown territory when it comes to Neel.”
Navigating my feelings for him, given our age difference and his past, is a daunting prospect. I know I can confide in my friends, but putting my thoughts into words is proving to be a challenge.
“We understand that he’s much older,” Kiara says, nodding. “And divorced. But if you like him, you should follow your heart.”
But there’s another issue weighing on my mind. “I do like him, but I have no idea if he feels the same way about me,” I admit, my heart racing at the thought.
Neel has been dropping by the boutique most mornings after his run to give me updates about the sponsorship. We’ve been having tea and sharing progress on the fashion show. I’ve found myself spending more time with him than with my friends and enjoying every moment.
I love the way he listens when I talk, giving me his undivided attention.
The way he smells when he walks in makes me wonder if he’s skipping his run or going back home for a shower before dropping by.
I cherish how our shoulders touch when we peer into his phone, where he’s maintaining meticulous notes.
Every brush of his hand, every smile I catch, knocks my socks off.
And when we say goodbye, the way he grasps my hand in a handshake lingers in my mind.
I find myself wanting to see more of him each time.
I’ve even started waking up earlier than ever just to be downstairs in the boutique when he arrives. I put extra effort into my appearance, wanting to look my best when I see him.
It’s not just physical attraction. There are so many ways we connect, things we have in common, and I genuinely enjoy his company.
Even the little things, like the way he furrows his brow when deep in thought or runs his fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair when he’s restless, make my heart skip a beat.
I’ve never experienced feelings like this before, the way I feel when I’m with Neel.
Khushi leans closer to the camera, her expression softening. “Don’t be scared to see where it goes. Just take it slow, get to know Neel better, and see what happens.”
Kiara nods in agreement. “What matters is how you feel when you’re with him. Just be real with yourself and with him.”
They’re right. I need to trust my heart.
But trusting my heart means putting myself out there, opening up, and maybe getting hurt.
I think about how much I’ve wanted to find someone I truly like and want to be with, someone I can chat with for hours, someone I can just be myself around.
Could Neel be the person I’ve been searching for all this time?
The only way to find out is by taking a chance.
But am I ready to risk my heart to find out if Neel feels the same way about me?