Love Me Tonight
Chapter 26: Between Fear and Feeling

The return to Mumbai was quieter than their departure.

There was no excitement this time – only a quiet anticipation of returning to a place she had slowly begun to call home. Never in her life had she even dared to dream of living in a villa like this. It belonged to the kind of worlds she had only ever read about in books.

Vedanta Villas welcomed them back with its familiar stillness. The house looked exactly the same – polished floors, muted lighting, everything in its place. And yet, something about it felt different.

Lived in.

She had often tried to match its corners to the homes she had imagined while reading, but nothing had ever quite fit. Standing there now, she finally understood why. This wasn’t something borrowed from stories. This wasn’t something imagined.

This was Sameer’s home.

This was her home.

This was their home.

Naina lingered at the entrance a moment longer than necessary, her fingers lightly brushing against the edge of the wooden door. Kolkata still lingered within her—the warmth of it, the pauses, the quiet way it drew people closer without demanding words. But Mumbai… Mumbai had held her when she had been left with nothing. And no matter how much she had come to love Kolkata, this – this was where she belonged.

“Thak gayi ho?” Sameer asked gently, watching her.

She shook her head. “Nahi… bas…” She trailed off, unable to put her thoughts into words.

As they entered inside, Bhavna Tai appeared with a glass of water, her voice warm with concern, “Memsaab… kaisa raha safar? Tabiyat theek hai na?”

Naina’s face lit up instantly, the quiet introspection dissolving as quickly as it had come. “Bahot achha tha!” she said, her words tumbling out as she began recounting bits of their trip – snippets of food, places, and small moments that had stayed with her.

Sameer stood aside for a few minutes, watching the two women chat animatedly. It never failed to amaze him – how quickly Naina’s tiredness and lingering melancholy vanished at the simple prospect of conversation.

A faint smile touched his lips as he took in the sight. Then, shaking his head lightly, he turned and walked toward their room to change and freshen up.

As the late afternoon faded into evening, lost in stories of Kolkata; far away, in another city, in another house, a young man sat with his head in his hands. Silent tears slipped through his fingers, unnoticed, unchecked.

He didn’t know what to do. How to even begin handling this.

The truth he had uncovered over the past few days weighed heavily on both his mind and his heart. Fragments of conversations, pieces of information, things that had once seemed insignificant – now they all fit together in a way that felt impossible to ignore. And yet, he had told no one.

His gaze drifted toward the girl sleeping peacefully nearby, unaware of everything that had unfolded around her… unaware of how deeply they had both been betrayed.

His thoughts were tangled, his resolve uncertain – but one thing was clear.

He would have to make a decision.

And soon.

The next morning unfolded slowly. February mornings in Mumbai were nothing like those in Kolkata. There was no lingering mist, no crisp bite in the air – only a soft warmth that settled in early, carrying with it the faint hint of humidity that never quite left the city.

Sameer woke first, as he often did, his gaze instinctively moving toward Naina. She was still asleep, her face softened in rest, one hand lightly resting over her stomach.

Usually, he would stay – watch her, wait for her to wake, unwilling to disturb the quiet comfort of the moment.

But today felt different.

There was a strange restlessness inside him. As if he were standing at the edge of something unseen – free to step forward or turn away, yet unable to do either. Careful not to wake her, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. Then he straightened, moving toward the cupboard to pull out his swimming trunks.

The February sun filtered gently into the secluded corner of the backyard, casting long, wavering reflections across the still surface of the pool. The space was enclosed, private – shielded from the rest of the house and the outside world by a green bamboo fence. It opened out from Sameer’s study, a place that had always been his refuge… his quiet escape.

He slipped into the water, cutting through its calm surface with steady, practiced strokes. With each lap, the tightness in his chest eased just a little, the noise in his mind settling into something more manageable. And somewhere between those measured breaths and rhythmic movements, a thought surfaced – simple, almost instinctive.

He needed to show this place to Naina.

Naina stepped out quietly, her hair loosely tied, a light cotton skirt brushing against her ankles. She hummed an old tune under her breath as she walked toward the living room, wondering if she would find Sameer in the kitchen – maybe making her favorite poha.

She had wanted to ask him so many times how the poha he made tasted exactly like the one from her bua-dadi’s house. But she had never found the courage… even after – or perhaps especially after – learning that he had met her bua-dadi.

And yet, the way he had held her, listened to her, taken care of her after she had shared her past… it made her feel that maybe now she could ask him. He would answer honestly – she knew that – but he wouldn’t push her, wouldn’t force her into anything she wasn’t ready for.

An open door caught her attention. She paused, then leaned slightly to peek inside, hesitating at the threshold as she realised it was Sameer’s study. A place she had never entered, though he had told her she could. Nothing in his world was restricted for her – that’s what he had said.

Another door stood open beyond it, a sliding one this time, and a faint, unfamiliar sound drew her in. She crossed the room without really noticing anything around her, her curiosity now focused, almost pulled forward by instinct.

She hadn’t meant to come here. She had only followed the sound of water.

And then she saw him.

Her husband…

Moving through the pool with fluid, controlled strokes, as if he were gliding rather than swimming. The water rippled around him, catching the morning light, breaking it into fragments that shimmered across his shoulders.

For a moment, she simply stood there. Watching.

This wasn’t the Sameer she knew in fragments – the composed businessman, the careful husband, the quietly attentive man who measured every action around her. Not even the passionate lover she remembered from months ago.

This was… unguarded.

Alive.

Her breath caught unexpectedly. She shouldn’t be standing here like this. Watching him like this. But she couldn’t look away. A strange warmth spread through her chest, slipping lower, unfamiliar and unsettling. Her fingers fisted her skirt as if grounding herself.

This wasn’t right. Not like this.

Not when she still didn’t fully understand what she was becoming… what this relationship was turning into.

Sameer reached the edge of the pool and pulled himself up in one smooth motion, water dripping down his skin. He ran a hand through his wet hair, turning… 

And froze.

Their eyes met. For a second, neither of them spoke.

“Tum kab aayi?” he asked, slightly breathless.

“Abhi,” she replied quickly, almost too quickly, looking away.

He noticed. Of course he noticed. He grinned, grabbing the towel to dry himself, “it’s okay. Maine toh pehle hi kaha tha ke tum kabhi bhi mere study me aa sakti ho. In fact, main abhi swimming karte hue soch raha tha ke tumko yeh pool dikhane le aaunga.”

She stared at the grey towel moving over his body – his arms, his chest, his stomach. At one point he lifted his hand one by one, and she blinked… Underarms. She was noticing his underarms. It was so absurd. How can she feel her belly clench on seeing his underarms? Such an unassuming body part, and yet it was affecting her just because it was him.

He snapped his finger in-front of her face, “kahan kho gai?”

Her cheeks reddened, “umm… kahin nahi. Main kitchen me jaa rahi hun. Tum… tum nahake aa jao.” Saying so she escaped.

Breakfast should have been normal. It started that way. Bhavna Tai had arrived sometime in between and whipped up vegetable upma. Sameer slid the cup toward her wondering about her silence. Naina murmured a soft thanks, but her eyes didn’t lift from the plate in front of her. Was she sad that their trip had ended? Or was she upset that they won’t be spending the entire day together like they were doing in Kolkata?

“Office jaana padega aaj,” he said lightly, trying to ease her mood. “Shaam ko jaldi aa jaunga… Kuch chahiye ho toh mujhe phone karna? Yaa kaho toh main aate hue chaaat leke aau?”

“Haan,” she replied, distractedly. Just that. No follow-up. No smile.

He leaned back slightly, watching her now. “Naina… sab theek hai?”

“Main theek hun,” she said, her tone clipped.

Something tightened in his chest. What went wrong? He thought they were progressing in their relationship. And so he insisted.

“Kuch toh hai,” he said quietly. “Subah se…”

“Toh kya?” she cut in, placing her spoon down with more force than needed. “Har cheez ka reason hona zaroori hai kya?”

Sameer blinked, taken aback, not by the words, but the sharpness. “Nahi,” he said slowly, trying to keep his voice even. “Lekin tum aise behave kar rahi ho jaise maano…”

“Jaise?” she challenged, finally looking at him.

There was something in her eyes. Not anger. Not exactly. Something restless. Uneasy.

He exhaled, choosing his words carefully. “Jaise tum mujhse bach rahi ho.”

The words landed. She stiffened almost imperceptibly. “I’m not,” she said, too quickly.

“Phir?” he asked.

She looked away. And that… that annoyed him more. “Dekho, agar kuch hai toh mujhse share kar sakti ho.”

“Sameer, please,” she said, pressing her fingers to her temple. “Mujhe interrogate mat karo.”

His jaw tightened, “I am not interrogating you.”

“Feels like it,” she muttered.

Silence stretched. Thin. Fragile. From the corner of his eyes he noticed Bhavna Tai moving away from the kitchen into the guest room, probably to give them space. Ensuring they were alone he leaned forward now, his voice lower, “tumhari problem kya hai?”

Her head snapped up. “Meri problem?” she echoed, incredulous.

“Haan,” he said, the control in his tone starting to slip. “Because clearly kuch toh hai. Kal tak sab theek tha. Aaj subah se tum weird behave kar rahi ho.”

“Kal tak sab theek tha kyunki main control mein thi,” she burst out.

The words surprised even her. Sameer frowned. “Control?”

She let out a breath, frustrated, standing up to pace a step away from the table. “Mujhe samajh nahi aa raha main kya feel kar rahi hun… aur tum…”

“Main kya?” he pressed as she trailed off.

“Tum aise behave kar rahe ho jaise sab normal hai!” she snapped.

“Kyuki hai!” he shot back. “At least I thought ke hai… Especially trip ke baad.”

“Well it’s not for me!” she said sharply.

That stopped him. He tried to make sense of her words, but was failing spectacularly. He just wanted to know what was happening in their relationship.  He repeated slowly, “Not… normal?”

She shook her head, running a hand through her hair. “Mujhe time chahiye… space chahiye… sab itna fast ho raha hai hamare beech me.”

“Fast?” he let out a disbelieving laugh. “Naina, main har step pe ruk ke chal raha hun tumhare saath. Tumhare pace pe ho raha hai sab kuch. I promised…”

“Exactly!” she cut in. “Tum itne perfect ho na har cheez mein… samajhne mein, handle karne mein… aur..”

He went still. That didn’t sound like a compliment. “Problem kya hai ismein?” he asked quietly.

This wasn’t going the way she wanted. But she couldn’t stop now. It was like a ball rolling downhill. Frustration at her own inability to express made her thoughtless, “tumhe aadat hai,” she said, “sab kuch manage karne ki… logon ko… situations ko… relationships ko…”

His eyes narrowed, his heart already heavy, “say it clearly, Naina.”

She swallowed, her pulse racing. She didn’t want to say it, but the words came anyway. “Tumhare liye yeh sab easy hai,” she said. “Detach hona… move on karna… casual rehna…”

That did it. “Enough.” His voice wasn’t loud, but it cut clean through the space.

She froze. He stood up slowly now, his chair scraping softly against the floor. “Tumhare dimag me kya chal raha hai mujhe pata nahi. But I have already told you about my past… Uske baad bhi tumhe aisa lagta hai ab tak toh…” He let out a hollow breath, “main office chalta hun… Tum araam karo aur apna dhyan rakhna.”

She watched him pick up his bag and wanted to call out to him, stop him… Say something – but her throat didn’t seem to work. The front door closed. And the sound felt far more final than she had expected. She could hear her own heartbeat now. Loud. Uneven.

Naina stood rooted to the spot long after the door had shut, the silence around her pressing in from all sides. The words she had thrown at him echoed back now – distorted, harsher than she had meant them to be. It hadn’t been about him. It had never been about him. It was the way her heart had raced that morning, the way her body had responded without her permission, the way something inside her was shifting faster than she could understand. And instead of confronting that unfamiliar pull, she had pushed him away. Reduced him to something he wasn’t. The guilt settled heavy in her chest, tightening her throat. He had been patient. Careful. Gentle with her in ways no one ever had. And she… she had turned that into an accusation. Her fingers curled into her palms as if she could hold herself together. Why was it so hard to accept something good without questioning it? Why did safety feel so unfamiliar… almost frightening?

Sameer gripped the steering wheel a little tighter than necessary as he drove, his jaw set, eyes fixed ahead but seeing very little. Her words had landed deeper than he wanted to admit – not because they were entirely new, but because somewhere, once upon a time, they had been true. Casual. Detached. Easy. He had worn those labels like armour, built them piece by piece after learning the cost of feeling too much. And yet, with her, he had tried; consciously, deliberately, to be different. To slow down. To wait. To unlearn. And still, she saw him through the lens of a man he no longer was. That stung. Not anger… no, that had passed quickly… but something quieter, heavier. Disappointment… maybe. Or exhaustion. He exhaled slowly, forcing his grip to loosen. She wasn’t wrong to feel overwhelmed. He knew that. But it didn’t make it easier to hear that she still didn’t trust what he was trying to build with her.

Bhavna Tai had not meant to listen – but in a house like this, silence carried voices farther than walls could contain. From the kitchen doorway, she had caught fragments… tones more than words… the sharpness in Naina’s voice, the restraint in Sameer’s. She quietly moved away then, giving them the privacy they deserved, but the unease stayed with her. She had seen Sameer through different phases of his life – watched him harden, watched him change, and then, slowly, soften again after Naina came into his life. It wasn’t difficult for her to understand what had happened. The woman was not wrong, just overwhelmed. And the man… he was trying, perhaps more than he ever had before. With a soft sigh, Bhavna Tai adjusted the edge of her pallu and returned to her work, deciding she would say nothing unless needed. Some things between husband and wife had to find their own balance – but if either of them faltered too far, she would be there. Quietly. As she always had been.

In the meantime, in Ahmedabad, Jaiprakash Maheshwari found himself in the middle of an argument of his own. His temper was wearing dangerously thin.

“Vivek, bas ho gaya,” he snapped. “Ab tak tum business associates ko ghar pe leke aate the – mujhe pasand nahi tha, phir bhi maine kuch nahi kaha. Lekin ab jo tum karne jaa rahe ho… uska andaza bhi hai tumhe?”

Vishakha sat stiffly on the sofa, watching the men in tense silence. Beside her, Vivek Somani looked completely unbothered – almost arrogant. “Isme galat kya hai?” he replied coolly. “Jo kar raha hoon, apne business aur family dono ke liye kar raha hoon. Waise bhi, Rohan mera beta hai. Uski life ke faisle lene ka haq hai mujhe.”

At that moment, Rohan came down the stairs, pausing midway. “Kaunsa faisla?”

Vivek stood up quickly, his tone shifting. “Arey beta… aao, aao. Hum toh bas aise hi baat kar rahe the.”

“Aise hi?” Jaiprakash cut in sharply. “Abhi toh badi akad dikha rahe the. Agar tumhara faisla itna hi sahi hai, toh batao na apne bete ko.”

Vishakha tried to intervene. “Papa, aap itni badtameezi se kyun baat kar rahe hain? Vivek ne galat kya kiya hai? Kisi na kisi se toh Rohan ki shaadi hogi hi… toh iss ladki se kyun nahi?”

“Shaadi?” Rohan repeated, stunned. He turned to his grandfather. “Nanaji… kya chal raha hai yeh?”

Vivek forced a light laugh. “Kuch nahi beta. Tumhare liye ek ladki dekhi hai maine aur tumhari mummy ne. Bahot achchi family hai. Tum ab office ka kaam bhi sambhalne lage ho… toh humne socha ke ab tumhari life partner bhi aa jaani chahiye.”

“Haan beta,” Vishakha added quickly. “Reena bahot achchi ladki hai.” She reached out to cup his cheek, but for the first time in his life, Rohan stepped back.

Away from her touch. Away from her.

His eyes shifted to his grandfather. “Kaun hai yeh ladki? Aur achanak shaadi kyun?”

“Beta…” Vishakha tried again.

“Aapse nahi,” Rohan cut her off quietly. “Maine Nanaji se poocha.”

Jaiprakash’s voice was steady, but firm. “Hamare ek supplier ki beti hai. Ek recent deal mein hume nuksaan hua hai… toh thoda mushkil waqt chal raha hai. Board ka decision hai ke kharche kam kiye jaaye. Yeh supplier discount ke badle apni beti ka rishta tumse jodna chahta hai… aur dahej mein paise dene ko bhi taiyaar hai.”

He paused, letting the weight of his words settle. “Isiliye tumhare papa ko lagta hai ke yeh deal sahi hai.”

Rohan felt something inside him crack. Again.

“Deal?” he repeated, his voice hollow. “Main aapka beta hoon… ya ek deal?” His gaze moved between his parents. “Jab chaaha, jaise chaaha… apne fayde ke liye use kar loge?”

“Papa, aap bhadka rahe hain mere bete ko,” Vivek snapped, his temper flaring now. “Aur galat kya kar rahe hain hum? Kam se kam Reena achche ghar se hai. Aur agar iss rishte se business mein fayda hota hai, toh kya bura hai? Rohan samajhta hai business. Kam se kam uss nalayak Sameer jaisa toh nahi – na business ki samajh, na parivaar ki fikr. Itna bada nuksaan ho gaya, ek baar bhi madad karne nahi aaya.”

“Bilkul,” Vishakha added bitterly. “Use parivaar se koi lagaav hi nahi hai. Bas din bhar awaragardi. Uski toh kabhi shaadi bhi nahi hogi—kyunki woh iss layak hi nahi hai ke koi usse pyaar kare.”

Jaiprakash stared at his daughter, stunned by the venom in her voice. But before he could respond; Rohan spoke, “bhai ke baare mein ek shabd bhi mat kahiye.”

The room stilled.

“Unko iss parivaar se lagaav hoga kyun?” he continued, his voice steady but burning underneath. “Aapne kabhi unhe pyaar diya hai? Kabhi apnapan diya hai? Ahmedabad unka ghar tha… woh jagah jahan unhe sukoon milta tha. Aur woh bhi aapne cheen liya.”

He took a step forward.

“Aur keh rahe ho unhe business ki samajh nahi? Sameer Jaiprakash Maheshwari is one of the top businessmen in this country.”

“Rohan, chup ho jao warna—” Vishakha warned.

“Warna kya?” he scoffed. “Jab bhi koi bhai ke favour mein bolta hai, use chup kara dete ho – mujhe, Deepika ko, Nanaji ko…” His voice hardened. “Mujhe samajh nahi aata aap unse itni nafrat kyun karti hain. Itne saalon mein aapne jo kiya hai… uske baad toh kisi ko surprise nahi hona chahiye agar bhai hum sabse door ho gaye.”

A beat. A quick pause.

“Lekin woh hum sabse zyada achche insaan hain. Aur duniya ki har khushi deserve karte hain.”

He straightened. “Rahi baat meri shaadi ki – mujhe abhi koi interest nahi hai. Aur business deal ke naam pe toh bilkul nahi.”

Vivek’s voice cut through, cold and final. “Maine waada kar diya hai un logon se.”

“I am sorry,” Rohan replied, just as firmly. “Aapka waada, aapki problem. Main interested nahi hoon.”

At that moment, Deepika came downstairs, dressed for college, her eyes darting between the tense faces. Rohan immediately pulled her beside him.

“Agar aaj maine haan keh diya,” he said quietly, “toh kal Deepika ka sauda bhi aise hi hoga.”

His gaze locked onto his parents.

“Aur agar aapne mujhe force kiya… toh main bhi bhai ki tarah kahin aur settle ho jaunga.”

A pause.

“I am not scared anymore.”

Then, turning to his grandfather, his tone softened. “Main aur Deepika bahar wait kar rahe hain.”

Jaiprakash Maheshwari watched his grandson with quiet pride. For the first time, Rohan had stood up to his parents. Was it fear for Deepika’s future? Or the courage he had drawn from rebuilding his relationship with his brother? Whatever it was – He knew one thing for certain. Vivek and Vishakha would no longer find it so easy to impose their will.

The car pulled out of the driveway in silence. For a few moments, none of them spoke. The weight of what had just happened lingered in the air, heavy and unsettled. Deepika sat in the back seat, unusually quiet, her fingers nervously twisting the edge of her dupatta. Rohan stared out of the window, jaw tight, thoughts still racing.

Jaiprakash Maheshwari adjusted his glasses, his voice calm but firm. “Rohan… jo tumne aaj kiya… sahi kiya.”

Rohan let out a slow breath, not looking at him. “Pata nahi, Nanaji… bas uss waqt laga ke agar ab nahi bola, toh shayad kabhi bol nahi paunga.”

Deepika leaned forward slightly. “Bhaiya… aap sach mein… ghar chhod doge?”

He turned to look at her, his expression softening instantly. “Agar majboori hui toh,” he said quietly. “Lekin main tumhe uss situation mein nahi aane dunga. Kisi bhi keemat pe nahi.”

Jaiprakash nodded thoughtfully, then after a pause said, “Sameer ko batana chahiye humein?”

At the mention of his brother, Rohan’s expression shifted. He leaned back, running a hand through his hair, slowing down at the busy intersection. “Woh tumhara bhai hai,” Jaiprakash added gently. “Aur yeh sab… tum dono ka rishta abhi-abhi theek hua hai. Usse chupana nahi chahiye”

Rohan gave a small, humourless smile. “Main chupana nahi chahta. Lekin itne saalo se unhone kitna kuch sambhala hai. Ab meri problems bhi unko bataunga toh…”

Deepika spoke softly, “I am sure… bhaiya ko pata chala toh woh yahan zaroor aayenge.”

Rohan’s gaze dropped for a moment, as if he already knew that. “Isi baat ka darr hai. Bhai ko sab bataya toh woh sab responsibility apne upar le lenge. Aur mummy jaisi baate karti hai unke baare me… mujhe darr hai ke baat sirf iss ek topic tak seemit nahi rahegi.”

Jaiprakash studied him for a moment, then gave a slow nod, “theek hai. Yeh faisla main tumpe chodta hun. Lekin mere hisaab se usko batana sahi rahega.”

Back in Mumbai, Sameer sat through a detailed briefing from his assistant, Aman, about the upcoming meetings and the latest developments in the company. His mind, however, refused to settle. It kept circling back to the morning. Still, he forced himself to focus.

He was Naina’s husband – yes. He loved her more than himself. But he couldn’t stop being SJM. The company demanded him just as much as his personal life did. And right now, he had to show up for it.

Aman, who had worked closely with him for years, noticed the difference immediately. The sharp focus, the quick decisions – those were still there. But something beneath it felt… off.

“Sir… are you okay?” he asked hesitantly. “Trip pe sab theek tha na?”

Sameer gave a faint smile. “Haan… trip bahot achha tha.”

“Phir mood off kyun lag raha hai?” Aman pressed gently.

Sameer glanced up at him for a second, then shook his head. “Kuch nahi. Tum itna tension mat lo.” He shifted his attention to the documents in front of him. “Aur suno… yeh invitation kis cheez ka hai?”

Aman picked up the navy-blue card and sighed. “Wahi… annual business community meet.”

Sameer rolled his eyes. “Boring. Mana kar do.”

“Sir, visibility ke liye important hai,” Aman said, trying to reason with him. “Aur networking bhi ho jaati hai. Iss baar…” he hesitated slightly before adding, “I mean… sir… bhabhi ko saath le jaiye na. Toh aapko boring bhi nahi lagega.”

Sameer stilled for a fraction of a second. The morning flashed through his mind – her words, his silence, the way he had walked out. He looked back at the invitation, his expression unreadable.

“Sochta hun…” he said quietly.

At Vedanta Villas, Naina kept pacing, unable to rest. The way she had insulted Sameer’s emotions with her careless thoughts kept grating on her nerves. He didn’t deserve her insecurities. The memory of his face – controlled, but hurt – refused to leave her. Sitting down didn’t help. Lying down didn’t help. Even the familiar comfort of the house felt distant, unsettled.

Her gaze drifted toward the kitchen, and almost instinctively, a thought took shape. He had left without eating properly.

Before she could overthink it, she moved. Opening the fridge, pulling out ingredients, asking Bhavna Tai for help – her hands found purpose where her mind couldn’t. She prepared what she knew he liked, simple but comforting, the way he often did for her. Maybe he wouldn’t say anything. Maybe he would still be upset. But at least… she wouldn’t sit here doing nothing.

Once everything was packed neatly into containers, she paused, her fingers resting lightly on the lid. Going there suddenly didn’t feel as simple as it had a few minutes ago. She couldn’t just take a cab and show up – if Sameer found out she had travelled alone like that, he would worry.

Biting her lip, she picked up her phone and hesitated for a second before dialing Aman.

“Hello bhabhi?” his voice came almost instantly, polite as always.

“Aman… ek kaam tha,” she said softly, still unsure why she felt nervous speaking to him. “Mujhe Sameer ke office aana hai… kya tum car arrange karwa sakte ho?”

There was a brief pause, followed by a hint of surprise in his tone. “Of course bhabhi. Main abhi driver bhej deta hoon. Aap… sab theek hai na?”

“Haan… bas,” she replied, not wanting to explain further. “Main lunch lekar aa rahi hoon.”

Aman smiled faintly on the other end, though she couldn’t see it. “Theek hai. Main aadhe ghante me aapko basement me milta hun.”

“Thank you,” she said softly before disconnecting.

As she picked up the bag of food, her resolve steadied. She would go to him. Not with explanations. Just with care.

She decided to change while she waited for the car. Aman had mentioned she would reach in about thirty minutes; which meant the driver was already somewhere nearby, probably on another errand. Keeping that in mind, she moved quickly.

Opening her wardrobe, her fingers paused over a few options before settling on one of the sarees they had bought just before Nanu’s visit – a soft pink drape with delicate self-embroidered floral borders. It felt right. Simple, but thoughtful.

She left her hair open, letting it fall naturally over her shoulders, and reached for a pair of small pearl earrings, something she had bought years ago during college. Familiar. Comforting.

Just as she was about to step away, she paused. Then, almost instinctively, she picked up her lip balm, uncapped it, and swiped a light layer across her lips. A small, almost nervous gesture. Taking a deep, steadying breath, she stepped out of the room, only to find Bhavna Tai already waiting near the table, the packed lunch bag neatly arranged. Their eyes met. Bhavna Tai’s lips curved into a soft smile, her gaze lingering just a second longer than usual – taking in the saree, the quiet effort, the unspoken intention. She gave a small nod – approval of not just of how Naina looked, but of what she had chosen to do.

The car arrived sooner than she expected, the driver stepping out promptly to open the door for her. Naina gathered the lunch bag carefully and slipped into the back seat, murmuring a soft “thank you” before the door shut behind her. As the car pulled away from Vedanta Villas, her fingers tightened slightly around the handle of the bag resting on her lap.

Now that she was on her way, the certainty she had felt earlier began to waver.

What would she say when she saw him?

Would he still be upset?

Would he even have time to meet her?

She glanced out of the window, but the passing streets blurred into one another, her thoughts far louder than the city outside. Every few minutes, she checked the containers inside the bag, as if making sure they were still there would somehow steady her nerves. It didn’t.

By the time the car turned into the basement parking of SJM Enterprises, her heartbeat had picked up again. Before she could even gather herself, Aman was already there—standing near the elevator lobby, as if he had been waiting.

“Hi bhabhi,” he greeted politely, stepping forward to take the bag from her before she could protest. “Aaiye… sir upar hai.”

She nodded, offering a small, nervous smile as she followed him inside. After a moment’s hesitation, she asked softly, “mood kaisa hai unka?”

The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, and they stepped in. Aman pressed the top floor.

“Itne din baad office aaye hain, toh kaafi busy hain,” he said. “Lekin… subah thoda tension mein lag rahe the. Maine poocha, par bataya nahi.”

Naina’s grip tightened around the bag as she silently began framing sentences in her head – words that could carry her apology without sounding inadequate. She only hoped he would be willing to listen.

The ride up felt longer than it actually was.

When the doors opened, she stepped into a space that felt entirely different from the warmth of home – sleek, controlled, precise. One side of the expansive floor was lined with floor-to-ceiling glass, letting in soft daylight. Muted tones of grey and beige reflected quiet efficiency.

What surprised her most was the absence of visible workstations. No clutter, no noise – just a calm, almost understated order.

Before she could question it, they reached a wide reception area. A middle-aged woman sat there, composed and observant. She looked up at them, curiosity flickering briefly in her eyes, but said nothing, only offering Aman a polite smile.

Naina was guided through another set of doors, deeper into the office. Aman stopped near a smaller cabin and gestured ahead. “Main yahan baithta hoon. SJM… mera matlab sir ka office saamne hai. Aap jaiye.”

She fidgeted slightly. “Lekin agar woh kisi meeting mein ho toh…”

“Nahi hain,” Aman assured her. “Sir ka schedule mujhe pata hai. Abhi contract review kar rahe hain. Don’t worry.”

She nodded, though her nerves hadn’t settled. Taking measured steps, she walked toward the final door – the one that led to him.

Her husband.

For a moment, she simply stood there, her fingers brushing against the handle. Then she pushed it open gently. Inside, Sameer stood near his desk, flipping through a file, his attention completely absorbed. He was dressed in a sharply tailored charcoal suit that seemed almost made for him – the jacket sitting perfectly across his broad shoulders, the crisp white shirt beneath lending a quiet contrast, the tie aligned with effortless precision. The dark fabric carried a subtle sheen under the natural light, adding to the composed authority he exuded.

This was a different world. And a different version of him.

Not the man who cooked for her.

Not the one who softened his voice around her.

This was SJM.

Focused. Controlled. Unapproachable.

Without turning, he spoke, his tone clipped and professional, “Aman, woh Mehra file le aana… aur jo revised clause maine mark kiya tha…”

He stopped mid-sentence. Something about the silence behind him felt… off.

He turned. And froze.

For a brief second, the sharpness in his expression gave way, softening, almost imperceptibly.

“Naina…?”

Her breath caught, every word she had prepared dissolving instantly.

He set the file aside and crossed the distance between them in three long strides. His hand lifted instinctively, reaching for her, then paused mid-air. The morning lingered between them, unspoken but present, and his fingers withdrew just a fraction before they could touch.

Keeping his voice neutral, careful, he asked, “Tum yahan kya kar rahi ho? Tabiyat theek hai na?”

The hesitation didn’t go unnoticed. Naina felt the weight of it settle deeper into her chest. But this time, she didn’t wait. She stepped forward and gently took his hand in hers.

“Main theek hoon,” she said softly. “Lunch leke aayi hoon… saath mein khayenge?”

He blinked, caught off guard. “Lunch? Par… kyun?”

She glanced around the office, then back at him, her voice quieter now. “Kahin baith ke baat karein? Paav mein thoda dard ho raha hai.”

That was enough. Whatever restraint he had been holding onto dissolved instantly.

He took the bag from her without another question and guided her further inside. She followed him through another set of doors – and stopped.

The space opened into a private lounge. Floor-to-ceiling glass framed the city outside, sunlight spilling in softly. A large semi-circular sofa curved across one side, complemented by plush armchairs and a low table. The opposite wall was dominated by a sprawling landscape painting, its muted tones adding warmth to the otherwise modern space.

Her breath escaped in a quiet rush. “Wow…”

Sameer glanced at her, a faint smile touching his lips. “Baitho. Main paani laata hoon.”

He placed the bag on the low table and moved toward the bar cart, pouring a glass of water for her – his movements calm again, but no longer distant.

He handed her the glass, watching as she took it with slightly trembling fingers. For a moment, neither of them spoke.

The silence wasn’t sharp like before.

But it wasn’t easy either.

Naina placed the glass down carefully, her gaze fixed on the table for a second longer than necessary. Then, slowly, she looked up at him.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

No hesitation this time. No deflection. The words were soft – but steady.

Sameer didn’t respond immediately. He leaned back slightly, his eyes on her, listening.

“Subah… jo maine kaha…” she continued, her fingers curling into her palms. “Woh… galat tha. Main… main confuse thi. Mujhe samajh nahi aa raha tha main kya feel kar rahi hoon… aur maine tumpe nikaal diya.”

Her voice faltered slightly.

“Tumne jo bhi kiya hai mere liye… jitna patience rakha hai… main…” She shook her head faintly. “Main tumko hurt kar diya.”

A pause.

“I didn’t mean any of it,” she added, quieter now.

Sameer exhaled slowly, his expression softening. “I know,” he said.

She looked up, surprised. “Tum… gussa nahi ho?”

He gave a small shake of his head. “Gussa tha,” he admitted honestly. “Par tumpe nahi… situation pe zyada.”

He leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on his knees.

“Naina… main samajhta hoon,” he said, his tone calm but steady. “Tumhare liye yeh sab naya hai. Confusing hai. Kabhi kabhi overwhelming bhi ho sakta hai.”

She swallowed, listening quietly.

“Lekin ek cheez humein samajhni padegi,” he continued, softer now. “Aise… push karke ya chup rehke cheezein theek nahi hongi. Tumne dheere dheere mujhpe itna bharosa kiya hai… toh ab kyun peeche hat rahi ho?”

Her gaze dropped. She nodded slowly. “Try karungi,” she whispered.

He watched her for a moment, then reached out – this time without hesitation – and placed his hand gently over hers.

“Bas itna kaafi hai,” he said quietly. “Main wait karunga. Tum jab comfortable feel karo… tab batana ke subah kya hua tha.”

She sat still for a second, gathering her thoughts. Then, hesitantly, she shifted closer to him, her eyes searching his face, as if asking for permission.

He didn’t say anything. He just lifted his arm slightly. That was enough.

She moved into him, resting against his shoulder. The contact steadied her, gave her the courage she needed.

“I’m sorry, Sameer…” she murmured. “Subah… jab tum swimming kar rahe the… mujhe… pata nahi… ekdum se kuch feel hua. Jaise…” She hesitated, then said it anyway, “jaise uss pehli raat ko hua tha. Aur mujhe samajh nahi aaya ke kaise deal karu.”

He took that in quietly, processing. “Tumhara matlab…” he said slowly, a faint hint of curiosity in his tone, “you were… attracted?”

She flushed, but nodded. Something flickered across his face – surprise, then something warmer. His heartbeat picked up despite himself.

“Toh usme itna pareshan hone ki kya baat thi?” he said lightly. “Husband hun tumhara… aur shayad thoda handsome bhi hun. Isn’t it natural?”

She pulled back just enough to look at him properly, her gaze lingering on his face.

“Thoda nahi,” she said softly. “Bahot zyada handsome ho.”

He smiled faintly. “Pata hai mujhe ke yeh sab natural hona chahiye,” she added, her voice quieter now. “Par main… ghabra gayi thi.”

He hummed, amused but gentle. “Thank you for the compliment, sweetheart.” Then, tilting his head slightly, he added, “Ek suggestion dun?”

She nodded.

“Aage se jab ghabrahat ho… mujhe hug kar lena,” he said simply. “Main sambhal lunga.”

A small laugh escaped her, the tension finally easing. “Samajh gayi.”

She glanced at the bag and added, “Ab khana khaye? Tumhara favourite banaya hai.”

His expression shifted instantly, concern replacing the lightness. “Tumne banaya?”

She nodded. “Bhavna Tai ne help ki… par mujhse kuch kiye bina baitha nahi jaa raha tha.”

He sighed softly, shaking his head. “I am also sorry… mujhe subah waise bina kuch bole chale nahi aana chahiye tha. Bekaar mein tumhe pareshan kar diya.”

“Main samajhti hoon,” she said with a small smile. “Ab please… khana khaate hain. Mujhe sach mein bhook lagi hai.”

He let out a quiet laugh. “Theek hai… ruko, main Aman se kehta hoon plates bhej de.”

Aman knocked lightly before stepping in with a tray of plates and cutlery. His eyes flickered between the two of them – Naina seated comfortably now, Sameer standing a little closer than usual – and a knowing smile tugged at his lips.

“Lagta hai mood theek ho gaya, sir,” he said casually, placing the plates on the table. “Subah toh kaafi… intense tha.”

Sameer shot him a look. “Kaam khatam ho gaya tumhara?”

Aman only grinned, unfazed. “Ji, abhi ke liye ho gaya.”

Just as he turned to leave, Naina called out softly, “Aman… ek minute.”

He paused, turning back. She quickly opened the bag and pulled out a smaller tiffin box. “Yeh aapke liye,” she said with a gentle smile. “Car arrange karne ke liye thank you… itni jaldi manage kar liya aapne.”

Aman looked momentarily surprised, then genuinely touched. “Arre bhabhi… iski kya zaroorat thi,” he said, though he accepted it with a grateful nod.

Sameer stepped forward, patting Aman lightly on the shoulder. “Thanks,” he said simply.

Aman smiled, a little wider this time. Then, with one last glance between them, he added, “Enjoy your lunch,” and stepped out quietly.

Sameer shook his head faintly, but there was no real annoyance left in his expression. They ate together slowly, the earlier tension dissolving into something softer. Between small comments about the food and occasional teasing, the space between them felt easier again – familiar, warm.

As Naina reached out to pour herself some water, her eyes fell on a navy-blue invitation card lying on the side table. She picked it up, turning it over curiously. “Yeh kya hai?”

Sameer glanced at it and sighed. “Annual business community meet. Maine subah dekha par jaane ka mood nahi hai, toh yahan rakh diya magazines ke saath.”

“Kyun jaane ka mood nahi hai?” she asked, scanning it briefly.

“Bohot boring hota hai,” he added, leaning back. “Same log, same baatein, same fake networking.”

She smiled faintly at his tone. “Aman bol raha tha,” he continued, almost as an afterthought, “ke tumhe saath le jaaun… toh shayad mujhe boring nahi lagega.”

Naina went still for a second. The words settled in slowly. She hadn’t thought about it like that before – stepping into his world like that… in front of everyone. For a moment, doubt flickered. Then, just as quietly, something else replaced it. She looked up at him, her voice calm but steady. “Chalte hain.”

Sameer blinked. “Kya?”

“Main chalungi tumhare saath,” she said, meeting his gaze.

A brief silence followed. No one knew about them. Not his world. Not his people. This wasn’t just an event. This was a statement.

“Tumhe pata hai tum kya bol rahi ho? Iska matlab jaanti ho?”

She held his gaze, a quiet resolve settling in her expression. “Ab chhupane jaisa kuch hai hi nahi,” she added softly. “Main… ready hun.”

Naina sat beside him, her fingers still lightly entwined with his, but her thoughts had quieted in a way they hadn’t before. For the first time, she wasn’t trying to analyse every feeling, every reaction. She wasn’t questioning what this was becoming. She was simply… allowing it. Allowing herself to feel. To trust. To belong. Saying yes to the event wasn’t just about stepping into his world – it was about accepting that she was already a part of it. And maybe, just maybe… she was ready to stop running from something that felt so undeniably right.

Sameer watched her for a moment longer than necessary, something easing inside him that he hadn’t realised he’d been holding onto since morning. She hadn’t just come to apologise. She had come to stay. And for the first time, he felt that maybe – just maybe – he didn’t have to hold back quite as much anymore.

Miles away, in Ahmedabad, Rohan sat alone in his room, his phone lying untouched beside him. He had picked it up more than once, Sameer’s name staring back at him – but each time, he had put it down again. Not yet. He needed time. Time to think. Time to decide. But somewhere deep down, he knew – whatever he chose, it wouldn’t stay contained for long. Some truths had a way of finding their own path. And when they did… everything would change.