Chapter 23
Nisha
“No, no, please not again,” I mutter under my breath, almost begging the universe as I flip the tenth roti, only to find it scorched like the rest.
My shoulders slump as I sigh in defeat, pulling the burnt roti off the tawa and dropping it onto the growing pile of failed attempts on the plate.
God! This was supposed to be a simple way to thank Sidharth for taking me skating, for always making my happiness his priority.
But now, I stare dejectedly at the chaos around me—flour coating the counter like snow after a storm, half-cut vegetables lying abandoned, and a hundred dirty utensils scattered everywhere.
It all feels like a full-blown disaster.
What was meant to be a heartfelt dinner now feels like an impossible challenge I’m miserably failing at.
“No, Nisha, you can’t give up. You’ve got this,” I mumble to myself, straightening my back as I steal a glance at the clock. Six-thirty. Sidharth will be here in just over an hour and a half. I still have time to fix this.
I pull in a deep breath and turn my focus back to the tablet propped against the wall, still playing the aloo matar recipe video on a loop. The overly cheerful voice chirps, ‘This is a beginner-friendly recipe!’
I let out a groan and glare at the screen. “Yeah, right,” I mutter, frustration creeping in.
Just then, I hear Sunita Aunty’s voice and turn around.
“Nisha?” she calls softly, taking a tentative step forward before stopping dead in her tracks. Her eyes sweep over the chaos.
“Did a tornado pass through here?” she asks, her eyebrows raised in disbelief.
I let out a half-laugh, half-groan. “This is me cooking.”
She walks further into the kitchen, careful not to step on a spoon, and stops right in front of me.
“Beta, why didn’t you call me to help you?” she says, brushing a bit of flour off my cheek.
I sigh, my shoulders slumping. “Because I wanted to do it myself for Sidharth.”
Her expression softens immediately, a knowing glint in her eyes. “Sidharth?”
I look away, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. “It is supposed to be a thank-you dinner,” I mumble. “For taking me skating.” My eyes take in the chaos, then flick back to her. “But clearly, the universe has other plans.”
She chuckles. “Well, the universe may be messing with your plans, beta, but your heart is in the right place.”
I nod slowly, the lump in my throat tightening. “He’s doing so much for me, Aunty. More than I ever expected. He puts me first without even thinking twice. And even with…” I stop mid-sentence, the words catching in my throat. I don’t want to mention Prakash and worry her again.
Sunita Aunty watches me quietly for a moment. “You don’t have to hold everything in, Nisha. You can talk to me.”
I inhale sharply, trying to find the words. “It’s just… with Prakash still out there, it’s all too much sometimes.” A bitter smile tugs at my lips. “And you know what’s funny?” I glance at her, my eyes watery. “When Sidharth’s around, I don’t feel afraid. Not even a little.”
Sunita Aunty nods, her grip on my hand tightening ever so slightly. “He’s your safe place, beta. Let him continue to be that for you.”
A tear slips down my cheek before I can stop it, and she wipes it away with her thumb.
“No tears,” she says with a smile. I smile back at her, and she nudges me towards the counter.
“Now, how about we save this dinner before Sidharth ends up with food poisoning?” she teases, rolling up the sleeves of her salwar.
“Come on, let’s see how I can help you.”
I catch her hand and shake my head. “No. I mean… I’d love your guidance, but I still want to do this for him myself.”
“Are you sure you can handle this without my help?” she asks playfully, raising a brow.
I shrug, smiling shyly. “Not really. But I still want to try. For Sidharth.”
She watches me for a moment, a strange mix of pride and nostalgia softening her face.
“In that case, I’ll let you cook in peace. Tell Sidharth hello from my side.”
I blink. “You’re going out?”
“Yes,” she says, patting my cheek. “I’m going to visit my friend. Also, I think you two could use a little privacy.”
My face burns instantly. “Aunty!”
She grins like the devil in disguise. “Now don’t go all shy on me. I can read young minds. But make no mistake, tomorrow morning, I’m grilling you about how dinner went. So be prepared.”
I shake my head as she walks towards the door. But just before she exits, she pauses and turns back. “You’re glowing, Nisha. Don’t let fear take that away from you.” And with that, she’s gone.
I stand still for a moment, letting her words sink into my bones, before taking a deep breath and getting back to the task at hand.
Twenty-five minutes later, I stand in front of the dining table, taking in the setup. The plates are neatly arranged, candles flicker softly, and I’ve even managed to fold the napkins into little triangles, probably the only perfect thing in this entire setup.
Because the rest… well, it looks kind of weird.
My eyes keep drifting to the bowl of aloo matar. The potatoes look fine, but the peas seem overcooked, if that’s even a thing. And the gravy? Either too thick or not thick enough, I honestly can’t tell anymore. There’s rice too. It’s clumpy, though.
I chew on my lower lip, still debating whether to dump it all and call for backup biryani, when the doorbell rings. That’s my cue. No time to order now. This is it.
And maybe it tastes better than it looks.
I give myself a little pep talk as I smooth down my kurta and walk to the door, doing my best not to look as nervous as I feel.
The moment I open it, my smile widens on its own. Sidharth stands there in a navy blue shirt with sleeves casually rolled up to his forearms. A light stubble shadows his jaw, and his hair is slightly messy in that effortless, infuriatingly perfect way.
“Hi,” he greets me.
“Hi,” I breathe. Damn, his lopsided smile is making it hard for me to focus on anything else.
“For you,” he says, holding out a single sunflower.
I smile, surprised. “You remembered I told you that I loved sunflowers?”
“You should know better by now. I remember everything you say,” he replies.
I nod mutely, my heart fluttering in the most ridiculous way at those simple words. Damn him. I step aside to let him in.
He takes a few steps inside, then pauses, sniffing the air.
“Something smells… hmm… good?”
I let out a nervous laugh. “That would be dinner.”
We walk over to the table, and I gesture with an exaggerated flourish. “Ta-da.”
“This is… impressive,” he says slowly, lowering himself into the chair as his eyes roam over the table. “Did you cook all this?”
I nod proudly, placing the sunflower into the vase at the center of the table. “Yup.”
“Wow. I can’t wait to try,” he says, rubbing his hands together with a grin.
Nervous, I pick up the serving spoon and ladle a portion of aloo matar onto his plate, then add a generous scoop of rice beside it. I sit down next to him just as he picks up his spoon, scoops a bite, and pops it into his mouth.
“And?” I ask, my eyes wide, heart thumping in my chest.
He chews slowly, then swallows, and clears his throat. “It’s good.”
“Really?”
“Really,” he nods, smiling.
I grin. I knew it. It couldn’t possibly be as bad as it looked. Feeling suddenly confident, I scoop some onto my plate and take a bite.
The moment it hits my tongue, I nearly choke. The salt is uneven, the peas are mushy, and I have no idea what I did to the gravy, but it tastes horrible. I quickly grab a napkin and spit it out.
“You call this good?” I manage to ask, my voice cracking with embarrassment as I meet his gaze.
His eyes soften. “Yup. Because you made it, and I know what it took for you to do that. That matters more than taste.”
I blink up at him, my heart cracking wide open. I swear, this man has a PhD in being swoon-worthy. And damn, he’s good at it.
Shaking my head, I sigh. “This dinner’s going straight to the bin. I’d better order something before we both end up with food poisoning.”
He chuckles. “I don’t want to sound mean, but I think that’s a very wise idea.”
We both burst out laughing. Just then, his phone buzzes on the table. He glances at the screen and lets out a slow breath.
“It’s my mom.”
I nod. “Go ahead, answer it. I’ll order us something edible.”
He leans in and presses a kiss to my forehead, then walks out onto the balcony, phone pressed to his ear.
For a moment, I just sit there, still smiling like an idiot.
“God, I’m a horrible cook,” I mutter, getting up and heading into the kitchen to grab my phone from the counter by the window.
I dial the pizza place and place an order for a large extra cheese chicken pizza with stuffed garlic bread, and then hang up.
Just as I’m about to turn away, a strange chill creeps up my spine. I pause, instinctively glancing towards the window. And that’s when I see a shadow. Standing just behind the tree line across the road.
But when I blink and look again, it’s gone. It’s like it vanished into thin air.
I stare for a second longer, my heart hammering in my chest. “It’s nothing,” I smack my head and murmur to myself, trying to dismiss the uneasy feeling rising in my gut. “Probably just my imagination.”
I take a deep breath and give myself a little nod. “You’re safe. Sidharth’s here. You’re fine.”
Turning away, I walk out of the kitchen, refusing to glance back at the window. My steps quicken as I make my way to the balcony to tell Sidharth about it.
But the moment I reach the doorway, I freeze. Sidharth is sitting on the edge of the chair, elbows resting on his knees, his head bowed low. My gut twists. Something’s definitely off.
“You okay?” I ask softly, taking a cautious step closer, already knowing I won’t mention what I just saw.
He looks up, and when our eyes meet, a slow smile spreads across his face. He reaches for my wrist and gently pulls me onto his lap. “I’m now, since you’re here.”
Instinctively, I reach up to adjust the collar of his shirt, my fingertips brushing the fabric. “Was the call with your mom okay?”
He exhales with a small huff, then catches my hand and holds it between his. His thumb traces the back of it in slow, reassuring circles. “Just the usual mom thing… the kind that gets under your skin.”
I glance at him, my brows furrowed. “What?”
He shrugs. “The marriage stuff.”
“Marriage?” My heart stutters, the word hitting me like a splash of cold water. The thought of Sidharth’s mom planning his wedding with someone else makes my stomach twist.
“Is she…” I swallow hard, forcing the words out. “Is she trying to set you up with someone?”
Before my thoughts can spiral further, he cups the side of my face and presses a kiss to my forehead. His lips linger there a moment longer than usual before he finally pulls back and meets my worried eyes.
“You have nothing to worry about. She hasn’t reached the stage of throwing names at me yet. Just the usual nudges.” He pauses before adding. “I wanted to tell her about us. But I didn’t want to do that without discussing it with you first.”
Emotion wells in my throat, but I tone it down, trying to steady myself.
“Sidharth…” I soften my tone, trying to shift gears without hurting him. “I’m not ready. It’s not that I don’t want this… I do, I really do. But it’s just…”
He doesn’t let me finish. His thumb brushes across my lips, silencing me with a touch. “Take your time, sweetheart. I’m not here to rush you or push you into anything you’re not ready for.”
My chest feels tight. His patience, his understanding… it’s everything I could ever ask for.
“Thank you,” I whisper in a shaky voice.
He leans closer and rests his forehead against mine. “But make no mistake, Nisha,” he murmurs gently, but with a firmness that leaves no room for doubt. “Behind closed doors or out in the open, our relationship doesn’t change. You’re mine. And I’m yours.”
Tears prick the corners of my eyes, and I reach up to wrap my arms around his neck.
“Every minute I spend with you… it gets harder to imagine my life without you.”
“Good. Because I don’t ever want you to,” he whispers.
I pull back slightly to look at him, my fingers brushing along his jaw. “You’re it for me, Sidharth. And I know I’m still figuring things out, but I want this. I want us. Even if I’m not ready to say it out loud to the world just yet.”
He nods, brushing a stray strand of hair from my face. “That’s more than enough for me.”
Before I can reply, the doorbell rings. Sidharth glances towards it, then looks back at me in confusion.
“Pizza,” I say with a watery smile.
“Great timing to ruin a perfectly romantic mood,” he groans, and I burst out laughing.
And just like that, the tension melts away, replaced by the kind of ease that only comes when you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.
And for me, that place is with him.