Love Me Tonight Chapter 38: Mt. Abu – Some Dreams Wait

Ahmedabad was still asleep. Or at least it pretended to be.

The sky beyond the Ellisbridge bungalow remained a deep indigo, the first hints of dawn still hidden beyond the horizon. Streetlights cast pools of golden light across nearly empty roads. Somewhere in the distance, a milkman’s bicycle rattled over uneven pavement. A stray dog stretched lazily near a tea stall that had only just opened for the day.

The city had not yet fully awakened. Inside the bungalow, however, sleep had become impossible hours ago. By five in the morning, lights glowed behind multiple bedroom doors. The Mount Abu trip had officially begun. Not that anyone had actually left yet. But excitement had been steadily building since the previous evening.

Particularly for Deepika. Who had somehow managed to ask the same question six different ways before sleeping. “Hum kal sach me jaa rahe hai na?”

At one point even Aman had threatened to leave her behind. The threat had failed spectacularly.

Meanwhile, inside the bedroom downstairs, Sameer was discovering that anticipation came in many forms. Some involved vacations. Some involved wives.

And unfortunately for him, the latter had not gone according to plan. His eyes drifted briefly toward Naina as she stood before the wardrobe. A smile threatened. Then immediately turned into a look of mock accusation.

The previous evening had started with a promise. A very promising promise. One that had involved a blush, a lingering look and the words “aaj raat…”

The memory alone was enough to make him shake his head. Because shortly after returning home, Mount Abu planning had taken over the entire household.

Hotel bookings.

Sightseeing plans.

Departure timings.

Arguments over who would sit in which car.

Arguments over who would carry which luggage.

Arguments over arguments.

By the time everyone had finally dispersed to their rooms the previous night, Naina had fallen asleep almost immediately. Curled against him. Completely oblivious to the tragic fate of her husband’s expectations.

The culprit herself looked entirely unrepentant now. She stood before the mirror adjusting the sleeves of a soft lavender maxi dress. The fabric fell loosely around her growing figure, tiny white flowers scattered across it like little stars. It had quickly become one of her favorites.

Sameer had become alarmingly enthusiastic about maternity-friendly clothing over the past few weeks. Naina had long since stopped questioning it.

The dress suited her. The soft morning light filtering through the curtains seemed to wrap around her like a watercolor painting. And unfortunately for Sameer, she looked beautiful enough to make remembering last night’s disappointment significantly harder.

As though sensing his gaze, she glanced toward him through the mirror. A smile immediately appeared. “Good morning.”

“Hm.”

The suspiciously unimpressed response earned a laugh. “Tum aise muh fulake kyun baithe ho subah-subah?”

Sameer folded his arms. “I was promised things.”

Naina’s smile immediately widened. “Achha?”

“Lekin raat toh bilkul rukhi-sukhi beeti.”

Her cheeks turned pink almost instantly. “Sameer!”

He merely shrugged. “Bas facts bata raha hun.”

The glare she attempted lasted barely three seconds before collapsing into helpless laughter. The sound followed him as he pushed himself off the bed and wandered toward her. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her back against his chest. Naina melted immediately. As she always did.

His chin settled comfortably on her shoulder while his nose disappeared into her hair. The familiar fragrance instantly improved his mood.

“Suno,” she said softly.

He hummed in response.

Naina tilted her head slightly. “Tum school se jab Mount Abu gaye the tab kya pehenke gaye the?”

The question caught him completely off guard. For a moment he actually thought about it. “Jeans,” he said eventually. “White turtle-neck t-shirt. Aur mera leather jacket.”

The answer earned a dramatic wrinkle of her nose. “Nahi.”

Sameer blinked. “Nahi?”

“Turtle-neck nahi.”

He looked confused.

“Why?”

“White bhi nahi.”

The confusion only deepened. “Sweetheart…”

She sighed heavily. The sigh of someone forced to explain something that should have been obvious. “Main soch rahi thi ke tab toh maine nahi dekha tha tum kaise lag rahe the.”

Sameer immediately fell silent. “And?”

Her fingers played absently with the sleeve of his t-shirt. “Toh aaj waise taiyaar ho jaate toh dekh leti.”

The words were spoken so innocently that they took a second to fully register. When they did, something warm settled inside his chest. Because somewhere, hidden beneath the complaint, was a sixteen-year-old girl still trying to reclaim moments she had never gotten to have.

“Par…” she continued thoughtfully. “Set nahi ho raha.”

He laughed. A genuine laugh. The kind she could always pull from him. “Sweetheart…” His hands tightened slightly around her waist. “Cupboard tumhare saamne hai.”

Naina looked up.

“Tumhara jo man kare nikal do.”

Her eyes widened.

“Sach?”

“Haan.”

“No arguments?”

“Not even one.”

The grin that appeared on her face was immediate. Victorious. Dangerous.

“Pakki baat?”

“Bilkul.”

He dropped a kiss against the top of her head. “Tumhe mujhe jis bhi kapde me dekhna hai, I am ready to wear it.”

The statement earned exactly the reaction he expected. The moment he released her, Naina spun toward the wardrobe with far more enthusiasm than anyone selecting clothes should reasonably possess.

Chuckling to himself, Sameer headed toward the bathroom. Behind him, he could already hear cupboard doors opening. And closing. And opening again.

Naina immediately discarded the t-shirts. Not because they looked bad. The unfair reality was that Sameer looked good in almost everything.

But shirts…

Shirts were different. There was something effortlessly masculine about them. Especially when he rolled up the sleeves. Or left the top couple of buttons open without realizing what effect it had on her.

A soft smile curved her lips.

After several minutes of serious consideration, she finally settled on a plain sage-green cotton shirt. Simple. Comfortable. Perfect for a road trip. And most importantly… The shade would look ridiculously good against his skin. Not to mention that it complemented her own dress perfectly.

By the time Sameer emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, towel slung around his neck, Naina was waiting with the shirt already in her hands. Looking entirely too pleased with herself. And suddenly he wasn’t quite sure whether agreeing so easily had been a wise decision after all. 

“Yeh pehno,” she demanded.

Sameer accepted the shirt obediently. There was no point resisting now. A few minutes later, after buttoning it up and rolling the sleeves to his forearms, he looked up at her.

The reaction was immediate. Naina’s eyes lit up. The pleased smile that spread across her face made him feel absurdly triumphant. Before he could even ask for a verdict, she covered the short distance in quick strides, caught the front of his shirt and pulled him down. The kiss she pressed against his lips was long enough to make him forget entirely about the early hour. When she finally pulled away, her cheeks were pink, her eyes bright with satisfaction.

“Perfect.”

Sameer stared at her for a moment. Then laughed softly. If this was the reward, he would probably have worn anything she handed him. A ridiculous printed shirt. An embarrassing sweater. Possibly even one of Deepika’s increasingly questionable fashion recommendations.

Though somewhere deep inside, he also couldn’t help silently appreciating his own wardrobe choices. After all, the shirt had come from his cupboard. And apparently his wife had excellent taste.

Still smiling to himself, he reached for her hand. “Chalein?”

Naina nodded immediately. Together they stepped out of the room and headed downstairs. Only to discover that everyone else was already assembled and waiting.

Rohan had apparently been awake since four-thirty. Nobody knew why. Not even Rohan.

Deepika looked ready enough to depart for Mount Abu, Kashmir or the moon.

Aman held a glass of warm water and the expression of a man wondering how he had become involved with these people.

And Jaiprakash looked younger than he had in weeks. The excitement suited him.

The plan was simple. Leave immediately. Find breakfast somewhere along the highway. Enjoy the drive. According to Rohan, that was an essential road-trip rule.

“Road trip ka best part hi roadside food hota hai.”

Deepika immediately agreed. “Bilkul.”

Aman nodded. “Ninety percent log isi liye road trip pe jaate hai.”

Sameer rolled his eyes. “Ninety percent?”

“Scientific data.”

“Source?”

“Aman Mathur.”

Before the argument could continue, Sarla Kaki emerged from the kitchen carrying a cloth bag.

One zipped black rectangular bulging cloth bag.

Which would have seemed perfectly normal if everyone in the room hadn’t immediately become suspicious. The bag landed on the dining table with surprising weight.

Sameer’s eyes narrowed. “Sarla Kaki…”

The older woman avoided eye contact. A very dangerous sign.

“Bag me kya hai?”

“Kuch nahi.”

The answer convinced nobody. Deepika opened it immediately. Her eyes widened. Inside sat enough snacks to sustain a small army.

Container of fafda and papdi. Gathiya. Sev-Mamra. Khakhra. Chevdo. Farsi Puri. Besan laddoos. A round flat box full of methi thepla. Small jar of pickle. A packet of imli, obviously for Naina. All carefully packed and labelled. There were even a few apples and oranges somehow tucked into one corner.

For several seconds nobody spoke. Then Aman looked inside again. “Yeh ek bag hai ya Gujarat tourism department ka advertisement?”

The room erupted into laughter. Sarla Kaki looked offended.

“Raste ke liye rakha hai.”

“Mount Abu ja rahe hai,” Sameer pointed out. “Dusre desh nahi jaa rahe.”

“Accha?” Sarla Kaki folded her arms. “Do-teen ghante baad bhook lagegi tab pata chalega.”

Before anyone could argue further, Mukesh Kaka appeared from the kitchen carrying another bag – this one filled entirely with water bottles. He placed it on the table with the weary resignation of a man who had fought this battle many times before and lost every single one.

“Iss behes me nahi jeet paoge,” he informed them sagely. “Do ghante aur der se nikal rahe hote toh ek aur bag tayyar ho jaati.”

The room immediately burst into laughter. Even Sarla Kaki looked faintly offended. “Jaise main zabardasti kar rahi hun.”

Mukesh Kaka wisely chose not to answer. Nearly four decades of marriage had taught him many things. One of them was that arguing with Sarla about food was a complete waste of everyone’s time.

Everyone thanked her anyway, genuinely touched by the effort she had put into preparing for a trip she herself wasn’t even joining. The appreciation finally softened her expression. Still, the moment she heard their grand plan of eating breakfast somewhere on the highway, she vetoed it immediately.

“Nahi.”

The entire room groaned in unison.

“Sarla Kaki…”

“Kam se kam chai aur biscuit.”

The tone made it clear this was not a request.

Five minutes later everyone found themselves seated around the dining table with steaming cups of ginger tea and plates of glucose biscuits. No one complained. Mostly because everyone was too excited to sit still.

Outside, dawn was finally beginning to arrive. The first rays of sunlight touched the rooftops of Ahmedabad, bathing the city in soft shades of gold. For a few moments, only the sound of birds filled the morning air. Then a sharp horn broke through the quiet. Everyone turned instinctively toward the gate. A large white Swaraj Mazda luxury mini-coach rolled to a smooth stop in front of the bungalow.

Deepika’s eyes widened immediately. “Yeh kya hai?”

The door folded open with a hiss. Aman looked entirely too pleased with himself. “My contribution to this trip.”

Several people stepped outside to inspect it. The coach gleamed in the early morning sunlight. Large tinted windows ran along the sides. Inside were plush reclining seats arranged in pairs, soft curtains framing each window and enough legroom to keep even Jaiprakash comfortable for the journey.

Sameer raised an eyebrow. “You booked a bus?”

Aman looked mildly offended. “Luxury mini-coach.”

“Same thing.”

“Bilkul same thing nahi hai.”

The correction earned laughter from everyone. But privately, Sameer had to admit it was a good idea. The original plan had involved two cars. Which meant two drivers. Two conversations. Two groups. And by the end of the journey, two tired people stuck behind steering wheels. The entire point of a family trip would have been lost.

Aman had pointed that out the previous night. Then immediately proposed a single vehicle instead. One where everyone could travel together. Talk together. Eat together. Argue together. The idea had been approved so enthusiastically that nobody had even attempted to disagree. Especially after Jaiprakash pointed out that Naina would be far more comfortable with room to stretch her legs during the drive.

And now, seeing the coach parked outside, everyone silently agreed it had been the correct decision. The driver and helper quickly began loading luggage into the storage compartment while Rohan and Deepika argued over who would claim the window seats.

Naina immediately declared that she wanted one too. Which resulted in Sameer reminding her that she was not a child. The argument lasted less than ten seconds. Because Naina won – reminding him she was going to give birth to their child. Sameer immediately closed his eyes admitting defeat. Because that was not an argument. That was a weapon.

Within minutes, bags were loaded, final headcounts completed and goodbyes exchanged with Sarla Kaki and Mukesh Kaka. Then, amid excited chatter, laughter and a final round of instructions from Sarla Kaki regarding the snack bag, everyone climbed aboard. The door folded shut. The engine rumbled to life. And as the sun finally rose over Ahmedabad, the journey they had all been looking forward to officially began.

 

The first hour disappeared in a whirlwind of excitement. For a while, nobody remained in their assigned seats. Deepika kept bouncing between rows, commenting on everything she saw outside. Rohan had somehow acquired responsibility for the snack bag and was already being accused of potential unfair distribution. Aman occupied one of the front seats, occasionally pointing his camera through the windshield whenever something caught his attention.

Ahmedabad slowly gave way to the open highways of Gujarat. The city buildings thinned. The traffic eased. Soon the roads stretched ahead in long ribbons of asphalt flanked by fields washed golden by the morning sun. Small villages appeared and disappeared in the distance. Farmers were already at work. Tea stalls buzzed with early customers. The occasional herd of goats or cattle forced vehicles to slow down, much to Deepika’s delight.

Aman photographed everything. The highway. The sunrise. The fields. A particularly stubborn bullock cart. And eventually the people travelling with him.

Half the photographs were taken without permission. Most of them were terrible. A few were unexpectedly beautiful.

The first proper stop came nearly two hours later at a roadside dhaba just outside Palanpur. The food was exactly what Rohan had promised.

Hot masala chai served in faded chipped crockery that Sameer had ensured the vendor rewashed properly before serving them.

Fresh pakoda – a mix of methi gota, dalwada, and aloo slice – served with thick yellow kadhi, green chutney and fresh salad of raw mangoes and onion sprinkled with chilli and salt.

Crisp buttered toast that Aman said he needed to make a sandwich with the dish of pakoda or as they call in Gujarat – bhajiya.

Aloo parathas, that Deepika saw being made and declared the masala looked like what bhabhi made, not the usual bland ones. And Sameer naturally was too willing to oblige her given it was potatoes.

And enough laughter to make the stop feel less like breakfast and more like an event. Naturally, Sarla Kaki’s snack bag was opened within thirty minutes of leaving the dhaba. Naturally, she was proven right. No one admitted it aloud.

The journey resumed with even greater enthusiasm afterward. At some point Deepika proposed antakshari. What began as a harmless suggestion quickly escalated into complete chaos. Teams were formed. Rules were created. Rules were immediately broken. Arguments erupted over whether certain songs counted. Nanu proved unexpectedly competitive with his armoury of old songs. Rohan sang terribly but loudly. Deepika sang enthusiastically regardless of whether she knew the lyrics. Aman claimed he wasn’t participating and then somehow ended up singing anyway. Even Sameer joined in – The result was catastrophic. Because everyone quickly discovered that while he possessed many talents, singing was not one of them.

The laughter that followed could probably be heard from the next district. For several glorious hours, they stopped behaving like adults altogether. There were no company discussions. No family politics. No betrayals. No difficult decisions waiting back home. Just six people travelling through the countryside, singing old songs at the top of their lungs and laughing until their stomachs hurt.

Like children. Like a family.

Eventually the excitement began catching up with them. The antakshari grew quieter. Conversations softened. Outside the windows, the landscape gradually became more rugged, the distant outline of the Aravalli hills beginning to appear on the horizon. By then Naina’s energy had finally begun to fade. The early start. The excitement. The constant chatter. The pregnancy. All of it combined into a pleasant exhaustion.

Sameer felt her head settle against his shoulder long before she admitted she was tired. He glanced down. Her eyes were already drifting shut. A smile tugged at his lips. Without disturbing her, he shifted slightly, making himself more comfortable. One arm slipped around her shoulders while the other rested protectively over her hand where it lay on her stomach. Naina mumbled something incomprehensible. Then snuggled closer. A few minutes later she was asleep.

Completely. Peacefully.

Outside, Mount Abu waited somewhere ahead. Inside the coach, surrounded by laughter, old songs and the people she loved most, Naina slept through the final stretch of the journey with her head resting over Sameer’s heart. And for once, neither of them seemed in any hurry to reach the destination.

Gradually the conversations around them softened. The endless antakshari that had dominated half the journey dissolved into scattered conversations and occasional humming. Deepika had finally exhausted herself after singing every song she knew – and several she only partially knew. Rohan had surrendered to staring out of the window. Even Aman had become quieter, occasionally lifting his camera whenever something outside caught his eye.

The scenery had changed almost without anyone noticing. The flat roads of Gujarat had long disappeared behind them. In their place came winding mountain roads that twisted around rocky hillsides and disappeared behind curtains of trees. Every few minutes the coach rounded another bend, revealing valleys below and distant ridges layered one behind another beneath the afternoon sun.

The air itself felt different. Cooler. Fresher.

When one of the windows was opened slightly, the scent of pine and damp earth drifted inside. Aman lowered his camera after photographing yet another valley.

“This was a good idea.”

Nobody even argued. Because it had been.

The coach climbed steadily higher, passing small roadside stalls, old stone walls and the occasional group of monkeys who sat watching the passing vehicles as though they owned the mountains. Perhaps they did.

The sight delighted Deepika every single time.

“Look!”

Five minutes later… “Look!”

Then… “LOOK!”

Eventually Aman threatened to charge her for unnecessary announcements. The threat achieved absolutely nothing.

 

Beside the window, Naina slept through all of it. At some point during the journey she had shifted even closer, her head tucked comfortably against Sameer’s chest while one hand remained curled loosely around his arm. Sameer glanced down at her occasionally. Not because he was worried. Simply because he liked looking at her.

The realization still felt ridiculous. Years ago he had imagined adulthood very differently. He had expected a solitary life. He had expected boardrooms. Businesses. Investments. Expansion plans. Nobody had informed him that a significant portion of married life involved staring fondly at your sleeping wife.

The coach rounded another curve. This time the valley opened dramatically below them. Even Sameer found himself looking up. The view stretched endlessly into the distance, sunlight spilling across the hills like liquid gold.

For a moment he simply watched. Then his gaze dropped back to Naina. “Sweetheart.”

No response. He smiled. “Naina.”

A small frown appeared. Then disappeared. The third attempt finally worked. Slowly her eyelashes fluttered open. For several seconds she looked thoroughly confused. Then she blinked. Looked out of the window. And froze.

The mountains stretched endlessly beyond the glass. The roads curved through forests and valleys. The sky seemed impossibly blue. Far below, the world looked small enough to fit into the palm of her hand. “Oh…”

The sound escaped before she could stop it. A smile immediately spread across her face. The kind that began in the eyes before reaching the lips. Sameer didn’t miss it. Neither did the memory that followed.

Papa ne mana kar diya tha.

The words returned unexpectedly. A simple sentence spoken over bhelpuri and tea. Yet somehow they had stayed with him. Back then, sixteen-year-old Naina hadn’t come here. She had stayed behind while everyone else created memories. Today she wasn’t being left behind. The thought settled somewhere deep inside him.

Warm. Quiet. Right.

The coach continued climbing through the hills for another twenty minutes before eventually turning away from the busier roads altogether. The market area disappeared behind them. The crowds thinned. The roads became quieter. More secluded. Everyone’s attention gradually shifted toward the windows. Even Deepika had fallen silent now.

The route wound through an area dotted with old cottages, flowering gardens and sprawling estates hidden behind stone walls. Then finally the coach slowed. Ahead stood a pair of wrought-iron gates. A stone plaque beside them bore simple lettering.

ARAVALLI RETREAT

The gates swung open. And the coach rolled inside. For a few moments nobody spoke.

A long gravel driveway stretched ahead beneath towering eucalyptus trees. Flowering shrubs lined either side of the path, their colours bright against the deep green lawns beyond. Somewhere in the distance a small fountain sparkled in the sunlight. At the end of the drive stood the retreat itself. A sprawling white-stone bungalow crowned with sloping red-tiled roofs. Wide verandahs wrapped around the building. Flowering creepers climbed the stone walls. Large windows reflected the afternoon light. It looked less like a hotel and more like the kind of place where families returned year after year until the memories became part of the walls themselves.

The coach rolled slowly to a stop. Nobody moved immediately. They simply sat there for a moment taking it all in. Then Deepika broke the silence. “Okay… I approve.”

Everyone looked at her. Aman chuckled, getting up from his seat, “thank you madam.”

Slowly, one-by-one they disembarked. Two staff members ran up to them, greeting them politely, and offered to carry their luggage. And as Naina reached for Sameer’s hand without even thinking about it, she found herself smiling. Because perhaps some places weren’t meant to be visited when you first dreamed about them. Perhaps they were meant to wait. Until you finally arrived with the people who mattered most.

 

The moment they stepped inside Aravalli Retreat, Deepika disappeared. Not metaphorically. Literally. One moment she was standing beside them while a staff member explained the room allocations. The next she had vanished down a corridor with the speed and determination of a person convinced hidden treasure awaited discovery.

“Deepika!” Rohan called.

A distant voice floated back. “Main bas dekh rahi hun!”

Which, everyone knew from experience, could mean absolutely anything. Aman sighed. “Main guarantee deta hun, dus minute me ya toh kho jaayegi ya kisi ko dost bana legi.”

“Ya dono,” Sameer added.

The possibility seemed alarmingly realistic. Laughter followed them into the bungalow.

Inside, the retreat possessed the same charm as its exterior. Polished wooden floors gleamed beneath high ceilings. Brass lamps hung from carved beams. Large windows welcomed sunlight into every corner. Framed black-and-white photographs of old Mount Abu lined the walls, telling stories from decades long gone.

It felt less like a hotel. More like a home someone had lovingly preserved.

The manager led them upstairs, opening a room with two separate beds. Aman said, “yeh room Nanaji aur Rohan sir ka hai.” The room overlooked the eastern gardens and came with two large beds, a sitting area and a verandah furnished with old wicker chairs. Jaiprakash approved immediately. Rohan’s approval came the moment he spotted the basket of complimentary snacks. Predictably.

 

Deepika’s room came next. The moment she stepped inside, her delighted squeal echoed through half the bungalow. The room was bright and cheerful, with floral curtains, a writing desk near the window and a small balcony overlooking the lawns.

“Yeh mera hai?”

The manager smiled. “Ji.”

Deepika looked moments away from hugging him. Aman wisely continued walking before that could happen. His own room occupied the farthest end of the corridor. Quiet. Private. Practical. Exactly how he liked things.

The manager opened the final door. And suddenly even Naina fell silent. The suite was beautiful. Sunlight streamed through tall windows draped with cream curtains. A large wooden bed occupied the center of the room. Fresh flowers sat in a vase on the bedside table. A small fireplace dominated one wall while comfortable armchairs occupied a corner near the windows. But it was the balcony that captured everyone’s attention. The valley stretched endlessly beyond it. Layers upon layers of hills rolled toward the horizon. Tall trees swayed gently in the afternoon breeze. Somewhere in the distance a bird called. For several moments nobody spoke. The manager quietly retreated. Sameer closed the door behind him. Still Naina remained standing near the balcony. Simply looking.

The wind lifted strands of her hair. A smile curved her lips. “Yaqeen nahi ho raha main sach me yahan hun.”

The words were spoken so softly that only Sameer heard them. He walked over and stood behind her. His strong arms enveloped her, and she leaned back willingly, his solid warmth instantly familiar and comforting. For a while they simply looked at the view together. No conversation. No jokes. Just silence. Comfortable silence.The kind only people deeply familiar with each other could share.

Eventually Naina rested her head against his chest. Sameer dipped slightly, pressing a soft kiss against her temple. The movement came naturally now. As though she belonged there. Perhaps she always had.

“Hotel achcha laga?”

She turned immediately. “Bahot.” Her eyes drifted back toward the gardens below. “Shaam ko walk pe chale? Itna bada garden hai. Mujhe dekhna hai.”

“Haan, zaroor.” He followed her gaze. “Suna hai hotel ka apna orchard bhi hai. Aman se bolunga puch le ki wahan jaa sakte hai ke nahi.”

Naina laughed. “Office me nahi ho, SJM. Har kaam Aman ko bolna zaroori hai?”

The words were teasing. Light. Yet they made him pause. Because the truth was… he hadn’t even noticed himself doing it anymore. Aman arranged things. Aman remembered things. Aman solved things. Somewhere over the years, it had become second nature.

Business trips. Schedules. Meetings. Travel plans. Even this trip.

The realization settled uncomfortably in his mind. Not because Aman wasn’t capable. If anything, the problem was precisely that he was. Aman handled responsibility so effortlessly that everyone around him simply assumed he would continue doing so. Including Sameer.

His gaze drifted toward the gardens outside. For the first time, he wondered when Aman had last gone somewhere simply to enjoy himself without simultaneously managing everyone else. The thought stayed with him. Quiet. Persistent. Beside him, Naina was still talking about the gardens she wanted to explore. Sameer smiled faintly and pressed another kiss into her hair. Perhaps during this trip, Aman deserved a holiday too.

Not as his assistant. Not as the person solving everyone else’s problems. But simply as family.

 

Naina looked back toward the mountains. A faint smile lingered on her face. “Jab me solah saal ki thi tab itni ichcha thi uss school trip me aane ki. Mujhe lag raha tha jaise maine duniya ki sabse important cheez miss kar di.”

Sameer said nothing. She continued quietly. “Ab lagta hai… shayad tab aati toh sirf jagah dekhti.” Her fingers intertwined with his. “Ab lag raha hai log zyada important hai.”

Something shifted in Sameer’s chest. Warm. Dangerously warm. Before he could say anything, a knock landed against the door. Once. Twice. Then repeatedly. The unmistakable knock of Deepika.

“Bhaiya!” Another knock. “Bhabhi!” Another. “Sab lunch ke liye wait kar rahe hai!”

Sameer closed his eyes. Naina burst out laughing. The moment was thoroughly ruined. Deepika’s timing remained legendary. And apparently some things never changed.

 

A slightly late lunch was served on the rear verandah overlooking the gardens. Nothing fancy. Simple food.

Fresh phulkas. Dal fry. Jeera rice. Aloo-methi. Paneer. Papad. Homemade pickle. And delicious gulab-jamun.

Yet after the long journey, it tasted magnificent. Conversation flowed easily. Nobody mentioned Maheshwari Industries. Nobody mentioned Ahmedabad. Nobody mentioned Vivek or Vishakha.

For the first time in weeks, there was nothing urgent waiting for them. Only the afternoon stretching lazily ahead. And perhaps that was why, when Deepika announced she wanted to explore every inch of the property immediately after lunch, nobody objected.

 

Within minutes they found themselves wandering through Aravalli Retreat’s sprawling grounds. Stone pathways wound through flower gardens bursting with roses and marigolds. Wooden swings hung beneath old trees. A small gazebo stood near an artificial pond where dragonflies skimmed the water. The place seemed designed for unhurried afternoons.

Deepika loved it instantly. She sat on every swing. Inspected every flower. And nearly fell into the pond twice. Rohan saved her both times. Aman photographed all the incidents. For evidence. Naturally.

Near the far edge of the property they discovered a wide open lawn overlooking a spectacular valley. Several wooden picnic benches stood beneath towering trees whose branches cast dancing shadows across the grass. A faded signboard nearby mentioned school excursions and educational camps.

Naina slowed. Then stopped altogether. The others took a few steps before noticing.

Sameer immediately glanced back. “Kya hua?”

For a moment she didn’t answer. Her eyes remained fixed on the signboard. Then a small smile appeared. “School picnic.”

The words were simple. Yet somehow everyone understood exactly what she meant. The school trips she had never gone on. The memories she had never made. The excitement she had only heard others talk about afterward. For a few seconds, nobody said anything.

Then Deepika marched purposefully toward one of the picnic benches and dropped herself onto it. “Toh karte hai.”

Naina blinked. “Kya?”

“Picnic.”

The answer was delivered with such confidence that it sounded perfectly reasonable.

Sameer stared at her. “Hum bachche nahi hai.”

Deepika stared right back. “As if age limit hoti hai.” She pointed toward him accusingly. “Alibaug me bhi toh beach pe mat bichha ke khaya tha.” Then toward Naina. “Picnic jaisa hi tha na woh?”

Naina looked thoughtful. “Haan… tha toh.”

“Dekha?” Deepika looked triumphant.

Aman, who had somehow already begun evaluating the logistics, nodded solemnly. “Valid point.”

Rohan wandered over and claimed the bench beside her. “Main bhi agree karta hun.”

Even Jaiprakash looked amused. “Mujhe toh koi problem nahi.”

That was all the encouragement Deepika needed. “Dekha?” she announced. “Majority mere saath hai.”

Aman had already reached for his phone. “Main staff ko bolta hun. Kal ke liye sab arrange karwa dete hai.”

He had barely taken a step when Sameer’s voice stopped him. “Wait.”

Aman paused. The others turned toward him. Sameer helped Naina sit comfortably on the bench before taking the spot beside her. “Abhi-abhi lunch kiya hai.” He gestured toward the group. “Sabka pet bhara hua hai.” The statement was difficult to argue with. “Picnic karenge bhi toh mazaa nahi aayega.”

Deepika looked disappointed for all of three seconds. Then curiosity won. “Toh?”

Sameer glanced around the property. The lawns. The valley. The gardens. “We’ll do it properly.”

The words immediately caught everyone’s attention. “Aaj thoda ghoomte hai.” He nodded toward the retreat. “Kal picnic.”

The disappointment vanished instantly. Deepika pumped a fist into the air. “Done.”

Aman opened his mouth again. “Main…”

“No.” This time Sameer’s interruption was softer. Almost amused. Aman stopped. A few hours earlier, Naina’s teasing voice floated unexpectedly through his mind.

Har kaam Aman ko bolna zaroori hai?

At the time he had almost been tempted to laugh it off. Now he realized the impact. Somewhere over the years, everyone – including him – had become entirely too comfortable letting Aman handle everything. And Aman treated it as natural – to handle everything, to be available round the clock, to be responsible for whatever was asked.

“My wife ke liye hai yeh.” A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Let me do it.”

For a second Aman simply looked at him. Then narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Aap SJM hi ho na?”

The question earned immediate laughter. Even Naina giggled, though she looked at Sameer with pride. She understood what he was doing/

Sameer ignored all of them. Instead he stood up and draped an arm around Aman’s shoulders. “Aur tum…” His voice softened. “Relax.”

Aman raised an eyebrow.

“We’re on vacation.”

The word felt strange coming from Sameer. Yet somehow right.

“Hum ghoomne aaye hai.”

He gave his friend’s shoulder a brief squeeze.

“Tum bhi enjoy karo.”

Then he nodded toward the valley stretching beyond the trees. “Picnic ki zimmedari mujhpe chhod do.”

For a moment Aman said nothing.Then, finally, he smiled. A small smile. The kind most people missed. “Fine.”

The victory was immediate. Deepika’s cheer echoed across the lawn. And just like that, a school picnic delayed by more than a decade was officially declared. They lingered beneath the trees for a while longer, talking about what should be included, arguing over food, debating games and making increasingly ridiculous suggestions. Eventually the afternoon sun reminded them that they still had an entire hill station waiting to be explored. Slowly they rose from the benches and began making their way back toward the retreat. Behind them, the empty picnic tables remained beneath the trees. Waiting patiently. As though they had been expecting them all along.

 

For a while after everyone dispersed to their rooms, the retreat grew wonderfully quiet. The late afternoon sunlight streamed through the large windows of their suite, painting long golden rectangles across the polished wooden floor. Somewhere outside, birds called from the trees. The occasional breeze drifted in through the partly open balcony doors, carrying with it the scent of flowers and damp mountain earth.

Naina lounged comfortably across the bed. She wasn’t sleepy. But after spending most of the day sitting in the mini-coach, her body certainly appreciated the opportunity to stretch out and do absolutely nothing.

Sameer, meanwhile, was engaged in what had quietly become one of his favorite hobbies. Pampering his wife. He sat near her feet, gently massaging her calves while she sucked contentedly on an imli candy she had discovered in her handbag.

Eventually Naina glanced toward the balcony where the mountains stood bathed in soft afternoon light. “Aaj kya karenge hum log?” she asked. “Kuch plan kiya hai?”

Sameer pressed the arch of her foot thoughtfully. “Main soch raha tha Sunset Point chalte hai.”

She immediately looked interested. “Thoda chalna padega,” he admitted. “But I think manageable hoga. What do you say?”

Naina nodded. “Haan. Dheere-dheere challenge toh Nanu ko bhi problem nahi hogi.” Then, being herself, she added, “Phir bhi paani-vaani le lena saath me.”

Sameer smiled. “Ji madam.”

Satisfied, she popped another piece of candy into her mouth. “Uske baad market chale? Lake bhi dekh lenge.”

He shifted his attention to her other foot. “Of course. Dinner bhi wahi kisi restaurant me kar lenge.”

Naina smiled. The plan sounded perfect. Then Sameer added casually, “Uske baad market.”

She chided. “Sameer.”

“Kya?”

“Tum Mount Abu ghoomne aaye ho ya shopping karne?”

He considered the question with surprising seriousness. “Dono.”

For a moment she simply looked at him. Then shook her head affectionately.

“Tum aur Aman puri bus leke aaye ho. Kaafi samaan bhar sakte ho waise.”

Sameer instantly sat up straighter. “Excuse me.” His expression of mock offense. “That is not just any vehicle.” He lowered his voice deliberately, perfectly imitating Aman’s serious tone. “It is a luxury mini-coach.”

The resemblance was so accurate that she nearly choked on her candy. For several seconds she laughed so hard that tears gathered in her eyes.

Sameer looked entirely pleased with himself. Then, apparently deciding her legs had received sufficient attention, he abandoned his position at the foot of the bed and climbed up beside her. Before she could protest, he pulled her gently against him until her head settled comfortably on his shoulder. His arm slipped around her waist.

The familiar scent of his cologne mingled with the cool mountain air drifting in from the balcony. “Hume taiyar bhi hona hai,” she reminded him softly.

He hummed. Completely unconcerned. Nuzzling his face into her hair, he tightened his hold on her slightly. “Bas paanch minute.”

Naina smiled. Outside, the mountains glowed beneath the fading afternoon sun. Inside, wrapped safely in her husband’s arms, she knew perfectly well that those five minutes were a lie.

 

The first person to appear in the lobby was Deepika. Naturally. The large grandfather clock near the reception desk hadn’t even struck five yet when she came bounding down the staircase. She had changed into dark blue jeans and a bright red top, her hair left open for once instead of tied back. A pair of silver earrings swung every time she moved, and the excitement radiating from her made it seem as though she personally owned the hill station.

Five minutes later she was already pacing near the entrance. “We’re getting late.” The declaration was addressed to absolutely nobody.

Then Rohan arrived. Khaki chinos. Navy polo shirt. The resigned expression of an elder brother who had accepted his fate long ago.

The next arrival was Aman. Dark denim. Black shirt. Watch. The man somehow looked capable of conducting a shareholder meeting despite technically being on vacation.

Deepika spotted him immediately and shook her head in apparent disappointment.  “Holiday pe bhi office jaoge aise lagte ho.”

The comment earned an immediate laugh from Rohan. Aman remained unimpressed. “I take that as a compliment.”

The light banter continued until the lift doors opened and Jaiprakash stepped into the lobby. A cream-colored sleeveless jacket had been added over his kurta. The mountain weather had cooled considerably compared to Ahmedabad, and the older man seemed visibly pleased by it. The vacation suited him. The strain that had shadowed his face for weeks appeared softer somehow. Lighter.

“Baaki dono?”

Deepika immediately pointed toward the staircase. “Late.”

As though summoned by the accusation, footsteps echoed from above. Everyone looked up instinctively. Sameer appeared first. Dark jeans. A blue-white checkered shirt, once more selected by Naina. Sleeves rolled casually to his forearms. The top couple of buttons left open.

He carefully helped Naina down the last few stairs. Her outfit itself was simple. A soft peach-colored cotton kurta with delicate white embroidery around the neckline. Comfortable ivory trousers. Nothing elaborate. Nothing designed to attract attention. Yet somehow she did anyway. Perhaps it was the mountain air. Perhaps it was happiness. Or perhaps she simply looked more relaxed than she had in months. Sameer thought she looked stunning.

A few minutes later they were back inside the mini-coach, winding through the roads of Mount Abu while the evening sky slowly transformed around them. The town looked entirely different now. The golden evening light softened everything it touched.

Small shops glowed warmly beneath strings of lights. Tourists wandered along the roads carrying cameras and shopping bags. The cool mountain breeze drifted through the slightly open windows, carrying with it the scent of pine, damp earth and roasting corn from roadside vendors.

The journey itself was short. Yet nobody seemed in a hurry to reach the destination. Every bend revealed another valley. Another cluster of trees. Another breathtaking view. Then finally they arrived at Sunset Point.

The place was already bustling with activity. Families. Tourists. Vendors selling roasted peanuts, tea and ice cream. Children chasing balloons. Couples leaning against railings. Yet somehow none of it distracted from the view.

The group walked slowly toward the viewpoint. And then the landscape opened before them. The valley stretched endlessly into the distance. Layer after layer of mountains faded into the horizon, their outlines softened by evening haze. The sinking sun hung low above them, bathing everything in molten gold. For several moments nobody spoke.

The sky changed minute by minute. Gold. Amber. Orange. Crimson. Purple. The colors spilled across the mountains until the entire horizon looked painted by hand. Beside him, Sameer felt Naina’s fingers slip into his. Instinctively. Comfortably. He squeezed them gently.

He bent a little, his lips almost touching her ear, and whispered, “I love you.”

She blushed, leaning into him, and he wrapped his arm around her. Aman photographed it. Years later it would remain one of Naina’s favorite pictures. At the time, none of them knew it.

The sun eventually disappeared behind the hills. The temperature dropped noticeably. And suddenly everyone remembered they were hungry. Naturally, Deepika was the first to announce it.

The market near Nakki Lake had fully awakened by the time they arrived. Rows of small shops lined the narrow streets. Colorful Rajasthani textiles hung from wooden displays. Silver jewellery sparkled beneath yellow lantern light. Handcrafted puppets swayed gently overhead. Vendors called out cheerfully to passing tourists. The atmosphere felt festive. Alive.

Deepika disappeared toward a jewellery stall almost immediately. Rohan followed with the resigned expression of a man who knew resistance was pointless.

Naina moved more slowly. Stopping. Looking. Touching. Admiring. Hand-embroidered bags. Painted wooden boxes. Lac bangles. Colorful shawls. Marble figurines.

Each discovery earned a small smile. Each smile somehow resulted in Sameer carrying another shopping bag. By the end of the evening, he looked pleased as a punch while Naina seemed confused at the amount of bags he was carrying.

The lake itself looked magical after dark.  Lights reflected across the still water. Boats drifted lazily near the shore. Families strolled along the promenade. The entire place felt like something out of an old postcard.

Dinner was eventually settled at a lakeside restaurant overlooking the water. The food arrived gradually. Fresh rotis. Butter Paneer. Dal. Aloo-Gobi. Rice. Everything smelled wonderful.

Conversation flowed easily. The sunset was revisited. Tomorrow’s picnic plans became increasingly elaborate.

And then it happened.

A waiter passed their table carrying a sizzling plate. The unmistakable aroma reached them instantly. Egg bhurji. Naina’s head turned before she could stop herself. Her eyes followed the plate. Then the second one. Then the basket of buttered toast accompanying it. For a moment something suspiciously close to longing crossed her face. Then she looked away. Immediately. As though hoping nobody had noticed.

Unfortunately for her, Jaiprakash had. Of course he had. The man had spent decades reading people. Missing something was almost impossible for him.

A few minutes later he quietly placed his spoon down. “Naina.”

She looked up. “Hm?”

“Egg khana hai?”

The question caught her completely off guard. For a moment she looked like a child caught stealing sweets. “Nahi toh.”

The lie was terrible. Everyone knew it.

Jaiprakash smiled. “Achha.” Naina immediately became suspicious. Meanwhile he turned toward the waiter. “Bhaiya.”

The waiter appeared instantly. “Haan sir?”

“Egg bhurji mil jayegi?”

The entire table froze.

“Nanu!”

Jaiprakash looked genuinely puzzled.

“Kya?”

“Aapke saamne?”

He waved away the objection.

“As long as mera khana alag hai mujhe koi problem nahi.”

The statement stunned several people. Including Sameer.

“Tum log jawaan ho,” Jaiprakash continued calmly. “Aur tumhare case me toh do log ho.”

Laughter erupted around the table. Naina buried her face in her hands. “Nanu…”

“Craving hai toh kha lo.” His voice softened. “Vacation pe aaye ho.” Then he added mischievously, “Waise bhi mujhe lag raha hai pichhle paanch minute se tum ussi table ko dekh rahi thi.”

Even Aman laughed. The battle was lost. Ten minutes later a plate of steaming egg bhurji sat in front of her alongside thick slices of buttered toast. The first bite produced such an expression of pure satisfaction that everyone immediately began laughing again. And somehow, beneath the lights of Nakki Lake, surrounded by mountains, laughter and family, it felt like the perfect ending to their first evening in Mount Abu.

 

The market remained lively long after dinner ended. By the time they finally left the restaurant, Nakki Lake shimmered beneath hundreds of tiny reflections. The crowds had thinned slightly. The air had grown cooler. Somewhere across the water a flute vendor played a soft melody that drifted across the promenade.

For a while they simply walked. Unhurried. Soaking in the atmosphere. Sameer held Naina’s hand tight, keeping her on the inside of the road. The road near Nakki lake didn’t allow any vehicles to come in, but there were more than enough people. It seemed several people had the idea of spending the onset of summer at the hill station.

Eventually they returned to Aravalli Retreat. The drive back through the dark mountain roads felt peaceful after the noise of the market. One by one conversations faded. Even Deepika grew quieter. The retreat looked almost magical when they arrived. Warm yellow lights glowed behind the windows. The gardens lay bathed in soft moonlight. Crickets sang from somewhere beyond the trees. Everyone dispersed toward their respective rooms.

 

The suite felt entirely different at night. The curtains swayed gently in the cool mountain breeze. Moonlight spilled through the balcony doors and painted silver patterns across the floor. Naina changed into a soft pale-blue cotton nightdress before settling comfortably against the headboard. For several minutes she simply watched her husband. Sameer stood on the balcony. One hand resting against the railing. The mountains stretched into darkness beyond him. There was something about the sight that made her smile. All evening he had fussed over everyone.

Made sure Nanu wasn’t tired. Made sure she had water. Made sure Deepika didn’t wander too far. Made sure Rohan wasn’t carrying too much. Made sure Aman wasn’t quietly organizing things when he should be enjoying himself.

Now, finally, he was standing still.

“Sameer.”

He turned immediately. “Hm?”

She patted the empty space beside her. “Idhar aao.”

He obeyed without question. A few moments later she found herself tucked comfortably beneath his arm. Neither spoke for a while. The room was quiet except for the faint rustle of leaves outside the balcony and the occasional chirping of crickets somewhere in the darkness.

Naina traced lazy patterns over his thigh with her fingertip. A small smile played on her lips. “Thank you.”

Sameer glanced down at her. “Kisliye?”

“Iss trip ke liye.” She paused briefly. “Mera ek adhura sapna pura karne ke liye.”

For a moment he simply looked at her. Then a smile appeared. “Tum meri wife ho.” His hand moved instinctively to her hair. “Tumhara har sapna pura karunga main. I promise.”

Something warm settled inside her chest.

Years ago she would never have believed she would hear words like that from him. Yet now he spoke them so naturally. As though there was never any question. As though her happiness had become his responsibility long ago.

She shifted slightly closer. “Filhaal ek aur sapna hai.”

“Hm?”

“Ekdum abhi.”

The mischievous note in her voice immediately caught his attention.

“Turant pura karna padega.”

Sameer frowned slightly. For a brief moment he wondered whether another craving had struck. “Kaisa sapna?”

Instead of answering immediately, Naina leaned back against the headboard and looked around the room thoughtfully. Then her gaze returned to him. “Balcony ka door bandh karo.”

His eyebrow rose. “Accha.”

“Aur lights off karo.”

Now both eyebrows went up. “Accha…”

Naina bit back a smile. “Aur…”

He folded his arms. “Aur?”

Her gaze travelled very deliberately from his face to his shoulders. Then lower. Then back up again. A slow smile curved her lips. “Yeh grey t-shirt mujhe bilkul pasand nahi.”

For a second Sameer simply stared. Then realization dawned. The effect was immediate. His eyes widened slightly. And Naina almost laughed.

Wanting to see exactly where this was leading, he rose without another word. The balcony doors were closed. The curtains drawn. One by one the lights disappeared until only the soft glow of a bedside lamp remained. Shadows settled across the room. The atmosphere changed instantly.

Warmer. More intimate. Quieter.

Sameer waited for his eyes to adjust. Then he looked toward the bed. And forgot what he had been thinking.

The pale blue of Naina’s nightdress seemed almost pearlescent beneath the soft light. Her long hair spilled freely over her shoulders. The gentle curve of her stomach was more pronounced now, the shadows accentuating every line.

She looked beautiful. Not dressed up. Not trying. Simply beautiful.

His gaze lingered. Slowly. Unapologetically. Taking a steadying breath, he hooked his fingers beneath the hem of his t-shirt and pulled it over his head. The fabric landed somewhere behind him.

Then he waited. Expecting instructions. A request. A demand. Something. But Naina said nothing. She simply sat there watching him. The same way he had been watching her moments ago.

Her eyes moved over him without hurry. Curious. Appreciative.

And suddenly Sameer wasn’t quite as confident as he usually was. A strange feeling. Given that he routinely negotiated with CEOs and terrified boardrooms. Yet somehow one pregnant woman sitting cross-legged on a bed had reduced him to uncertainty.

He stepped forward, climbed onto the bed, and settled down only a short distance away from her. Still waiting. Still curious. And now very aware that his wife seemed to have a plan.

Neither spoke.

The room seemed quieter now than it had a few minutes ago. The soft glow of the bedside lamp painted everything in shades of gold and shadow. Beyond the closed balcony doors, the mountains had disappeared into darkness, leaving only the occasional chirp of crickets drifting through the night.

Naina still sat cross-legged on the bed, looking at him. Simply looking. The intensity of her attention should have amused him. Instead, it made something tighten pleasantly inside his chest.

Most of his life had been spent being watched for the wrong reasons. Business rivals assessing him. Investors judging him. Employees waiting for instructions. People noticing the position he held, the money he possessed, the influence he carried.

But this…

This was different. Naina wasn’t looking at any of those things. She was looking at him. And somehow that felt infinitely more dangerous.

For several moments neither moved. Sameer didn’t rush her. Didn’t tease her. Didn’t fill the silence with one of his usual comments. He wanted her to take the lead. Wanted her to tell him what she needed. What she wanted. He was hers. She knew that. There was very little he wouldn’t give her.

It was nearly another minute before Naina finally drew in a slow breath, as though gathering courage for something. Then she shifted closer. Just a little. Her hand lifted. There was a faint tremor in her fingers when they touched his face. Sameer felt it immediately.

Her palm settled against his cheek. Soft. Warm. Tender.

Her thumb traced slowly across his cheekbone, brushed over the bridge of his nose, lingered briefly at the corner of his mouth before sliding down toward his jaw. The movement was so gentle that it almost stole his breath.

“You are so handsome.”

The words emerged little more than a whisper. A quiet confession. Yet somehow they landed with surprising force. For a second he simply stared at her. Then a smile spread across his face.

Warm. Unrestrained. Almost boyish.

People had called him handsome before. Plenty of times. But hearing it from Naina never felt ordinary. Perhaps because there was no admiration in her voice. No fascination. No flattery. Only affection. Only love. And somehow that made it mean more than every compliment he had ever received.

His hand found her waist instinctively, resting there without pulling her closer. Without directing her. Simply waiting. Following.

Naina’s other hand drifted to his chest, her palm settling over his heart. She could feel the steady rhythm beneath her fingertips. Strong. Familiar. Reassuring. The sensation seemed to embolden her. Her touch lingered longer now. Less hesitant. More curious. As though she was allowing herself to openly admire something she had spent weeks pretending not to notice. Her hand moved from his chest to his neck, thumb resting over the adam’s apple that moved as he swallowed.

Sameer remained perfectly still beneath her wandering fingertips. Watching her. Letting her look. Letting her explore. The realization sent an unexpected thrill through Naina.

Because everywhere else, Sameer was the one people followed. The one who decided. The one who led.

Yet here he sat patiently, giving her complete control of the moment without needing to say a single word. And somehow that trust felt more intimate than anything else. A small smile appeared on her lips. His eyes softened immediately when he saw it. The reaction only made her braver. A little bolder. A little less afraid.

She shifted closer again until barely any space remained between them, her fingers still tracing absent patterns against his skin while she looked at him with an openness she rarely allowed herself. The room seemed to shrink around them. Until there was only the soft glow of the lamp. And the certainty that, for perhaps the first time all day, neither of them wanted to be anywhere else.

 

She used the hand on his neck to pull him down in a kiss… Sameer expected a soft kiss. A gentle one. The kind that usually began with hesitation before slowly deepening. Instead, Naina surprised him. The moment their lips met, all hesitation seemed to disappear. She immediately opened her mouth, tasting his upper lip and then lower lip, nibbling on them, a little harder than necessary. He jerked slightly, but her hand around his neck tightened a bit. The pressure made him gasp, and she used the opportunity to slip her tongue in his mouth. There was nothing uncertain about her this time. Nothing shy. Nothing tentative. The realization struck him almost immediately. She wanted this.She wanted him. He moaned, his entire body aching for her. His need for her overwhelmed him for a moment… And he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her flush to his body as the kiss deepened. 

Naina lifted herself on her knees. The hand on his chest moved to the back of his head, fisting in his hair and her other hand moved from the side to the front of his throat. She held him there, stealing his breath, as though she had no intention of letting him escape. Not that he wanted to. Not even slightly. Not when the pressure lingered in a tantalizing way as she used the dual hold to tilt his head back to deepen the kiss even more.

His thoughts scattered completely. Part of him was still trying to process Naina’s unexpected boldness. Another part was trying to understand his own reaction to it.

He knew she had entered their marriage with almost no experience of this side of a relationship. Before that night they had spent together in Mumbai the previous October, everything had been unfamiliar territory for her.

And yet, somehow, she possessed an instinctive sensuality that caught him off guard every single time. A natural confidence. An ability to make him feel wanted without even realizing the effect she had on him.

As for himself… Life had given him far more experience than he had ever asked for. Enough to recognize attraction. Enough to understand desire. Enough to know when something was merely physical.

What existed between him and Naina was nothing like that. Perhaps that was why she affected him so completely. Why a single touch could unravel thoughts that boardrooms, negotiations and crises never could. And perhaps that was why he found himself surrendering so willingly whenever she took the lead.

He had caught a glimpse of that part of himself back in Ahmedabad. But this… This was something else entirely.

Gods…

The pull on his hair, her finger nails scraping his scalp, the pressure on his throat from her delicate fingers… He was straining in his tracks soft sounds emanating from him that he wasn’t able to control. The reaction seemed to encourage her.Or perhaps embolden her. Because when he finally managed to pull back enough to breathe, she followed immediately, refusing to allow more than a few inches of separation between them. Their foreheads touched briefly. Her breath mingled with his.

Sameer stared at her. At the faint flush colouring her cheeks. At the brightness in her eyes. At the confidence that had somehow appeared out of nowhere.And suddenly he found himself smiling. Not because he was amused. Because he was completely captivated.

The expression made Naina narrow her eyes suspiciously. “Kya?”

The question emerged breathless. He shook his head. Then after a second asked, “sona hai? Ya… continue kare?”

She glared at him. The effect was ruined immediately by the blush spreading across her face. Sameer laughed softly. The sound was warm. Affectionate. Dangerously fond.

And somehow that was what undid her more than anything else. Because beneath the teasing, beneath the attraction, beneath everything else… He looked happy. Genuinely happy. As though this moment meant as much to him as it did to her. The realization softened something inside her.

Slowly she leaned forward, resting her head against his bare shoulder, her arms slipping around him. Sameer sighed softly and let his hand travel down her back in a soothing stroke.  He honestly thought that might be enough for tonight. And it would have been. The kiss they had shared had already left him far more affected than he cared to admit. For now, simply holding her felt enough. More than enough.

He rested his cheek against her hair and closed his eyes, willing his heartbeat to settle. Several minutes passed that way. The mountains beyond the retreat disappeared further into darkness. The room remained lit only by the soft glow of the bedside lamp.

Eventually Naina stirred. Tilting her head back, she looked up at him. “Sameer.”

His eyes immediately met hers. “Hmm?”

For a moment she simply studied his face As though gathering courage. Then her lips curved into a small smile. “Kiss me again.”

The request was so direct that it caught him off guard. For a moment neither moved. The air between them seemed to thicken again. His hand rose to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His thumb brushed lightly against her cheek. And when he finally leaned closer, there was no hurry in the gesture. No urgency. Only affection.

Naina sighed softly into the kiss. A moment later Sameer felt a gentle pressure against his back. It took him a second to realize what she was doing. Slowly, almost unconsciously, she was tilting backwards onto the bed, drawing him with her.

His arm tightened instinctively around her waist. At the same time, he shifted his weight, bracing himself on one forearm so that he wasn’t resting on her directly. The movement was automatic. Every instinct inside him had become attuned to her comfort. To her safety. To the tiny life growing between them.

The kiss never quite broke. It merely softened. Slowed. Turned exploratory. The kind of kiss that seemed to exist outside of time. When they finally parted, neither moved immediately.

Sameer remained hovering above her, supported by one arm, his other still wrapped securely around her. For a moment he simply looked. At the faint flush warming her cheeks. At her closed eyes. At her slightly swollen lips. At the way her breathing had quickened.

The sight sent a fresh spark of desire through him. Powerful. Immediate. Dangerous.

His jaw tightened. Because if there was one thing he knew with absolute certainty, it was that he needed to keep his head. Needed to remember that she was carrying their child. Needed to remember that wanting something and acting upon it were not always the same thing.

Unfortunately, that became significantly harder when Naina opened her eyes and looked at him as though he was the only man in the world.

He tried closing his eyes. It didn’t help.  Because a moment later her hand drifted across his chest again. Sameer sucked in a sharp breath as her fingertips traced slowly over warm skin, lingering without purpose and yet entirely purposeful at the same time.

The ceiling fan whirred lazily overhead. Somewhere beyond the closed balcony doors, crickets sang in the darkness. The bedside lamp cast a soft amber glow across the room, leaving half of it submerged in shadows. Against the dark green bedsheet beneath them, the pale blue of Naina’s nightdress seemed almost luminous.

And perhaps that was part of the problem. Every time he looked at her, he found something new to admire.

“Naina… sweetheart…” The words emerged rougher than intended. “We need to stop.”

For a moment she went completely still. The hand on his chest halted. Then she swallowed. Her eyes searched his face uncertainly. “Sameer…”

She hesitated. Looked away. Then back at him. “Main… woh…”

The words seemed to stick in her throat. “Kaise kahu…”

His brows furrowed. The nervousness caught him off guard. A few minutes ago she had been bold enough to leave him struggling for self-control. Now she looked as though she wanted to disappear beneath the blanket. For a moment neither spoke. The fan continued its slow rotation overhead. A loose strand of her hair had fallen across her cheek. Without thinking, Sameer reached over and tucked it behind her ear. The simple gesture seemed to calm her slightly.

And suddenly, the pieces began falling into place. The lingering glances all week. The restless touches. The kisses that had gradually become longer. The swimming pool incident. Her shy confession that day.  And then everything that had happened afterwards.

The argument. The fake accident. Somani’s betrayal. One crisis after another.

Neither of them had ever really returned to that conversation. Had never spoken about what she had been trying to tell him. Because between the two of them, he had always been the experienced one. And perhaps that was exactly the problem.

For all her instinctive boldness whenever emotions took over, putting those feelings into words was still difficult for her. So she had been trying to tell him the only way she knew how. Through every lingering touch. Every stolen kiss. Every glance that stayed a little too long. The realization softened something inside him immediately.

His desire didn’t disappear. If anything, it intensified. But it was joined by something else. Understanding. Carefully he shifted, lowering himself fully beside her. The arm that had been supporting his weight slipped around her shoulders instead, drawing her gently against him. His other hand settled over the gentle curve of her stomach. For a while he simply stroked absent patterns there, gathering his thoughts.

The baby shifted faintly beneath his palm. The sensation made both of them smile. Only then did he speak. “Maine padha tha…” His voice was quiet. Thoughtful.

“Pregnancy wali books me.”

Naina’s eyes immediately lifted to his.

“Kabhi kabhi na… pregnancy ke dauran aurton ko apne husband ke thoda zyada paas rehne ka man karta hai.”

The words were deliberately gentle. An offering rather than a question. A bridge for her to cross if she wished. For a second she simply stared at him. Then her eyes widened. And a deep blush spread across her cheeks.

The reaction alone told Sameer he was finally on the right track. Encouraged, he brushed his thumb gently across her cheek and said softly, “Main husband hun tumhara. Tum jo chaho woh keh sakti ho mujhse.”

The blush deepened immediately. Naina looked away.

For perhaps the hundredth time since they had gotten together, Sameer found it fascinating how the same woman could be astonishingly bold one moment and painfully shy the next.

She cleared her throat. “Jaanti hun…” Her fingers began absently twisting a corner of the bedsheet. “Lekin…” A hesitant smile appeared. “I mean… pehle kabhi…”

The words faded away before they were fully formed. Sameer waited. When she didn’t continue, he picked up gently, “I know.” The arm around her shoulders tightened slightly. “But give me some hints.”

Naina looked up. “Hints?”

“Haan.” A small smile tugged at his lips. “Yeh hum dono ke liye naya hai.”

The confusion on her face only deepened. So he elaborated. “Sweetheart, tum pregnant ho.” His hand drifted down to rest once more over the gentle curve of her stomach. “Maine bahot padha hai. Books. Articles. Anything I could find.” The admission made her smile. Sameer probably knew more about pregnancy than most expectant fathers. “Phir bhi,” he continued, “abhi bhi bahot si cheezein mujhe clear nahi hai.”

The ceiling fan continued its steady whirr overhead. Outside, the mountain night remained quiet. Inside, the room felt wrapped in its own little world. Sameer looked at her carefully. “Isiliye jab bhi hum…” He paused, choosing his words. “Jab bhi hum kareeb aate hai, I wait.”

Her eyes widened slightly. “I let you decide.” The confession seemed to surprise her. “So that I know you’re comfortable.” He hesitated briefly before continuing. “Aur main yeh bhi nahi chahta tha ke tumhe kabhi lage ki main tumhe kisi cheez ke liye push kar raha hun.” His voice had grown quieter now. More serious. “Ya phir tum yeh socho ke mujhe sirf ussi cheez me interest hai.”

For a moment Naina simply stared at him. Then understanding dawned. A soft “Oh” escaped her. The room fell silent again. She lay there thinking. Really thinking. As though pieces from the past several months were rearranging themselves inside her head.  Finally she turned toward him. “Main tumhare baare me waisa nahi sochti.”

The certainty in her voice made something inside Sameer relax. Naina shifted closer, resting her hand over his where it still lay on her stomach. “Jab hum wapas mile the…” she began quietly, “tab main tumhare baare me bahot kam jaanti thi.”

A self-conscious smile appeared. “Actually, sach kahu toh mujhe lagta tha main bahot kuch jaanti hun.” Sameer’s lips twitched. The honesty was refreshing. “Lekin jo kuch bhi mujhe pata tha… woh adhura tha.”

The smile faded. Thoughtfulness replacing it. “Isi wajah se maine apne dimag me tumhari ek image bana li thi.”

She paused. Then looked directly into his eyes. “Lekin ab nahi.” The words were simple. Yet they carried surprising weight. “Ab main tumhe jaanti hun.” Her fingers squeezed his lightly. “And I know… tumhe sirf physical relationship me interest nahi hai.”

He smiled, a boyish charm lighting his face and making him seem years younger. Leaning down, he brushed his nose lightly against hers. A soft laugh escaped Naina. The sound warmed something inside him. She tilted her face upward and captured his lips in another kiss. Sameer responded immediately, the last of the awkwardness between them disappearing. Her fingers found his hand and laced through it, holding on tightly as though she wanted him as close as possible. Using the same hold she guided his hand underneath her top. 

He jerked at the unexpected contact, pulling back just enough to look at her. His breathing had become uneven again. So had hers. For a moment neither spoke. Naina held his gaze steadily. Then, very deliberately, she licked her lips. The gesture made his self-control suffer another serious blow. A small smile appeared on her face. “Itna hint kaafi hai?”

Sameer closed his eyes briefly. “Naina…”

The warning lacked conviction. She saw it immediately. The confidence she’d been slowly gathering all evening returned. Yet beneath it, uncertainty still lingered. “Koi problem?”

Her voice softened. “Ya…” The question seemed difficult for her to ask. “You don’t…”

“Of course I want you.” The answer came so quickly that she didn’t even get to finish. His brows furrowed immediately afterward. “I just…” He exhaled slowly, trying to organize thoughts that were becoming increasingly difficult to organize. “Maine kaha na… I am not completely sure ke pregnancy me hume kitna careful rehna chahiye.”

The concern in his voice was unmistakable. Her expression softened immediately. For a few seconds she simply looked at him. Then she spoke so quietly that he almost missed it. “But I need you.”

The words were barely above a whisper. Yet they hit him harder than anything else she had said all evening. There was yearning in them. Trust. Vulnerability. And beneath all of it, the lingering uncertainty of someone still learning how to ask for what she wanted.

Something tightened painfully inside his chest. Because he understood then. This wasn’t really about desire. Not entirely. It was about closeness. About reassurance. About wanting to feel loved and wanted and cherished by the man she trusted most. And suddenly, hearing her ask so hesitantly felt wrong.

His wife should never have to plead for affection. Never have to wonder whether she was wanted. Never have to be afraid of asking him for something.

Slowly… Very slowly the hand she had placed at her own waist moved up, stroking gently, lovingly. The caress on her body and the tenderness in his gaze made her breath catch.

“Sweetheart,” he said softly, “tumhe kabhi bhi mujhse kuch maangne ki zaroorat nahi hai.” His lips brushed with hers, the words spoken against her mouth, “Especially not this.”

The uncertainty in her eyes disappeared as they fluttered close. His hand moved up, fingers caressing the underside of her breast. It seemed as if hours passed as she waited, but in reality it was only a few seconds… His broad palm covered her left breast, the warmth searing through her skin and an involuntary moan escaped her mouth. His thumb circled over the aching crest, stroking, flicking, until she was writhing under him. Her head moved to the side, breaking their kiss, and he took the opportunity to kiss her jaw, her throat, the side of her neck. Little open mouthed kisses that had her impatient for more. She guided his other hand, making a restless little sound. He did as she wished, stroking both her breasts, rolling the hardened nubs between his thumbs and forefingers.

She moaned, “Sameer… please…”

He suckled on her earlobe, whispering endearments in her ear. His hands stopped pleasuring her for a moment to lift the soft fabric of her top away, and yet just that miniscule moment was enough to pull a sound of displeasure from her.

His eyes roved over her… It was only then he realized how hungry he had been for her. He loved her so much that he was willing to control his desire for her. But he also wanted her just as much. He looked at her face once more, pleased to see her eyes were still closed, displaying her trust in him. His head lowered, taking one aching nub in his mouth in a gentle suckle. The effect was immediate. Her back arched, her hands came up to his head, fisting in his hair. His mouth moved from one to the other breast, alternating, pleasuring. His lips seem to suckle the breath out of her, his teeth left marks of possession, his tongue laved and soothed. Fire stoked inside her belly, his name a fervent prayer from her mouth… And then she arched higher, the moan breaking, trailing away as gentle pleasure coursed through her like waves lapping at the edge of a lake.

His hands stroked her sides, his mouth kissed her face, her throat. Her breath slowed down slowly, and her eyes opened half-lidded, glazed with pleasure. She noticed the surprise in his eyes, as well as the half formed smirk on his lips.

“What?” She croaked.

His smirk bloomed into a smile, “I didn’t expect… Padha tha pregnancy me breasts sensitive hote hai. Lekin realize nahi kiya tha ke aise… I mean itne me hi…”

Her face flushed all over again, and she slapped his shoulder making a disgruntled sound. He chuckled, gently adjusting her top, and then lay down properly beside her. As she settled in his arms, she softly queried, “Sameer… tum?”

“I am fine”, he responded. She looked up at him in disbelief. He smiled, “trust me… this was perfect.”

She still objected, “lekin tum… aise kaise.”

He stroked her back, kissed her forehead, “sweetheart… Your pleasure is my pleasure. Yaqeen karo mujhpe.”

She searched his face for a moment, for any sign of discomfort or lie, but he seemed to be perfectly okay. Slowly, she nodded, accepting his words. His smile widened, “agar tum ab se aise hi itna sensitive rehne wali ho toh…” An undertone of satisfaction and thrill tinged his next words, “we are going to have so much fun!”

She made a helpless sound, her cheeks reddening, and she buried her face in his chest. He laughed softly, wrapping her tight in his arms, perfectly satisfied and exhilarated at this new step they had taken. The moonlight outside colored the mountain tops silver, a gentle wind rustled the leaves on the trees, and inside the couple fell asleep blissfully in each other’s arms.

 

The next morning began with a lazy yawn and the comforting feeling of being wrapped in a warm cocoon. A smile curved Naina’s lips. For a few moments she remained curled comfortably against Sameer, unwilling to move. The cool mountain breeze drifted through the partially open balcony doors. Birds called from somewhere in the trees below. Voices floated faintly upward from the gardens. Beyond the retreat, the Aravalli hills glowed softly beneath the early morning sunlight.

Beside her, Sameer stirred awake. He tightened his arm around her instinctively before mumbling sleepily, “Good morning, sweetheart.”

She smiled and pressed a kiss to his jaw. “Good morning. Aaj… picnic?”

A sleepy chuckle escaped him. “Yes, madam.”

His eyes finally opened. “Chalo. Fresh ho jaate hai.”

Neither of them moved immediately. The bed was warm. The morning pleasant. And neither seemed particularly enthusiastic about leaving either.

Eventually responsibility won. They took turns showering and dressing for the day.

By the time Sameer emerged from the bathroom, toweling his hair dry, Naina was standing before the mirror. He had chosen faded blue jeans and a red-and-white checked cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled casually to his forearms. The top two buttons remained open as usual, revealing the tan skin at his throat. His hair was still slightly damp from the shower, and for once there was no expensive watch, no suit jacket, no traces of the businessman who usually commanded boardrooms and negotiations.

Just Sameer.  Relaxed. Happy. Entirely on vacation.

He paused near the dressing table and simply watched her. She had chosen a baby-pink mul cotton salwar kameez for the day. The soft fabric suited her perfectly, falling comfortably over her growing figure. She was fastening a pair of oxidized silver earrings when he leaned one shoulder against the wall, observing her preparations with great interest.

Somehow, he found her getting-ready routine endlessly fascinating. Yesterday’s shopping haul had clearly been a success. The earrings were new. The bangles too. He remembered buying both from a cheerful shopkeeper near Nakki Lake who had spent nearly twenty minutes convincing Naina that she needed them.

“Aaj maxi dress nahi?” he asked.

Naina caught his gaze in the mirror and smiled. She ran a brush through her hair before gathering it into a loose braid. “Aaj mandir jaana hai.” She picked up her dupatta and draped it over one shoulder. “Isiliye. Dupatta hoga toh sar pe rakh sakungi.”

Sameer nodded thoughtfully. “Mandir ke liye kuch kharidna hai? Phool, mithai waqera?”

She paused to place a small maroon bindi on her forehead. The final touch. “Nahi,” she replied. “Yeh Jain temple hai. Mujhe bhi nahi pata yahan exactly kya karte hai.” Then she smiled. “Bas haath jodenge… aur donation de denge.”

“Fair enough.”

A few moments later she was ready. Sameer looked her over once. Twice. Then nodded in approval. “Perfect.”

She smiled. He held out his hand to her, “ab chalo… Warna thodi der me Toofan Mail aa jayegi knock karne.”

Naina burst out laughing. Deepika’s reputation had clearly spread. Slipping her feet into comfortable sandals, she took his offered hand. Together they made their way downstairs, pausing briefly at reception while Sameer checked that everything for the picnic had been arranged.

The moment they stepped out into the gardens, the crisp mountain air greeted them – and from somewhere ahead came the unmistakable sound of Deepika laughing. The day had officially begun.

Outside, beneath the shade of a sprawling tree, the picnic bench they had occupied the previous afternoon had undergone a transformation. A simple checked tablecloth now covered its surface. Cushions had appeared on the benches. The morning breeze carried the scent of grass, tea and distant wildflowers.

Their family was already assembled around it. Or rather, causing a disturbance around it. Deepika was in the middle of a story. Rohan was interrupting every alternate sentence. Aman was pretending not to be involved while quietly encouraging both of them. And Jaiprakash sat watching the chaos with the resigned patience of a man who had long ago accepted that younger generations were incapable of holding a normal conversation.

Everyone looked up as Sameer and Naina approached. Following them were two sturdy hotel staff members. One carried an enormous wicker picnic basket while the other balanced a tray laden with a thermos and cups.

The moment Naina sat down, a chorus of greetings erupted.

“Good morning!”

“Finally!”

“Hum log toh bhook se mar rahe the!”

Sameer rolled his eyes. “Drama company.”

That only earned him laughter. The wicker basket was placed in the center of the table and opened with suitable ceremony. Immediately everyone’s attention shifted. Inside lay neatly packed breakfast treasures.

Fresh hot theplas wrapped in cloth to keep them warm. Accompanied with a small box of pickle.

Cold vegetable-cheese sandwiches – school canteen style.

Golden methi gota still crisp from the fryer.

A large dish of juicy tomatoes sprinkled with salt and pepper – especially for Naina.

And containers filled with perfectly cut seasonal fruits.

Meanwhile the thermos revealed steaming ginger tea whose aroma alone was enough to make everyone reach for a cup. For a few minutes conversation ceased entirely. A rare and remarkable occurrence.

Then, just when everyone thought the basket was empty, Sameer reached all the way to the bottom and triumphantly produced a rectangular steel tiffin box. The kind children carried to school. Instantly every head turned. “What is that?” Deepika demanded.

Sameer merely smirked and opened the lid. A collective gasp followed. Inside rested bright orange jalebis glistening with sugar syrup.

“Arre waah!”

“Jalebi!”

“Yeh kitna yummy dikh raha hai!”

Even Jaiprakash looked pleased. Naina simply stared. Then slowly turned towards her husband.

“You actually did it.”

Sameer looked mildly offended. “Maine bola tha na.”

The pride in his voice made her laugh. And for a brief moment, he looked absurdly pleased with himself. Breakfast stretched on for nearly two hours. Nobody seemed particularly interested in leaving. The weather was perfect. The tea kept flowing. The mountains stood quietly around them. And for once, there was nowhere urgent to be. The world could wait. Mount Abu had their full attention.

 

As the morning progressed and the sun began to climb higher, the group reluctantly abandoned their picnic spot and made their way towards the waiting mini-coach. Their next destination was one of Mount Abu’s most famous landmarks. Dilwara Temple.

The temple silenced them almost immediately. Photographs had not prepared them for it. From the outside, the complex appeared surprisingly simple. Elegant, certainly, but understated. Nothing about the exterior hinted at what waited within.

Then they stepped inside. And collectively forgot how to speak. White marble seemed to glow beneath the filtered sunlight. Every surface appeared alive with detail. Pillars rose towards elaborately carved ceilings. Domes bloomed overhead like stone flowers. Arches intertwined with patterns so delicate they resembled lace rather than marble.

Even Deepika stopped talking. Which alone qualified as a miracle.

Naina found herself staring upwards so often that Sameer became mildly concerned she would walk into a pillar. The carvings seemed impossible. Lotus flowers unfolded across ceilings in concentric circles. Rows of elephants marched along pillars. Celestial dancers, musicians and deities appeared frozen in motion. Entire sections looked less like stone and more like ivory embroidery.

“Yeh marble hai ya embroidery?” Rohan finally muttered, squinting upward.

The question earned a round of laughter. Yet none of them entirely disagreed.

Near one of the halls stood a pristine marble plaque detailing the temple’s history. Aman stopped to read it aloud while the others gathered around.

The oldest shrine, Vimal Vasahi, had been commissioned in the eleventh century by Vimal Shah, a minister of the Solanki rulers of Gujarat. Other temples had followed over the next two centuries. Generations of artisans had devoted years – sometimes decades – to carving details so intricate that visitors still struggled to believe they had been created by hand.

“Kitna patience laga hoga yeh banane me,” Deepika murmured.

Jaiprakash nodded thoughtfully. “Aur unti hi lagan aur bhakti.”

For a while the family wandered quietly through the halls. Taking it in. Absorbing it. Respecting it. The cool marble beneath their feet seemed to carry centuries of prayer and silence.

Eventually Sameer and Naina entered one of the prayer halls together. Without thinking, Naina adjusted her dupatta and pulled it over her head before folding her hands.

The gesture was simple. Natural. Almost unconscious. Yet Sameer found himself watching her.

The soft pink fabric framed her face beautifully. Sunlight filtered through a carved marble screen nearby, bathing her in a gentle glow. The silver bangles she had bought the previous evening chimed softly as she bowed her head.

For reasons he couldn’t entirely explain, the sight pleased him immensely. Perhaps because there was something deeply graceful about it. Or perhaps because over the past few months he had discovered that even the smallest reminders that she was his wife had an absurd effect on him. Whatever the reason, he found himself smiling as he folded his own hands. Beside him, Naina remained blissfully unaware. Lost in prayer. And for a brief moment, surrounded by centuries-old marble and mountain silence, both of them felt completely at peace.

 

Somewhere along the way Deepika discovered a small plaque describing an old local legend associated with the lone tree standing in the temple courtyard. Naturally, she immediately became obsessed with it.

According to the story, it was a love-fortune tree. If an unmarried person stood beneath it and a leaf fell upon them, they would someday find the partner their heart desired. And if a couple stood beneath it together and received the tree’s blessing, it meant their bond would endure for seven lifetimes.

“Bas. Ho gaya,” Deepika declared. “Sabko try karna padega.”

No one was consulted. No one was given a choice. Rohan was pushed beneath the tree first. He stood there with the expression of a man enduring tremendous suffering while the rest of the family stared upward expectantly. Nothing happened. Not a single leaf moved. Deepika looked disappointed. Jaiprakash looked delighted. Rohan looked offended. “Dekha?” he announced triumphantly. “Bakwas hai.”

Aman was volunteered next. This time, after nearly a minute of collective anticipation, a solitary leaf detached itself from a branch high above and drifted lazily downward before settling directly on his head. The courtyard erupted into laughter. Cheers. Applause. Aman looked deeply unimpressed by his newfound romantic prospects. Which only made everyone laugh harder.

Eventually, attention shifted towards the final participants. Sameer and Naina. Unlike his wife, Sameer did not particularly believe in tree-based matchmaking. Naina, however, appeared completely invested. Hand in hand they stepped beneath the spreading branches. And waited. Nothing happened. A minute passed. Then another. Still nothing.

Slowly Naina’s shoulders drooped. A tiny pout appeared. Sameer’s heart immediately sank. He knew that pout. Under normal circumstances it was adorable. Right now it was mildly terrifying. His wife was pregnant. Which meant a tiny disappointment could unexpectedly transform into a full-fledged emotional crisis. And considering how excited she had been about the tree’s blessing, he had absolutely no intention of finding out where this particular mood swing might lead.

Before the disappointment could gather any momentum, he gently cupped her face. “Naina.”

She looked up. “What?”

“I love you.”

The abrupt declaration caught her completely off guard. She blinked. Once. Twice. The pout disappeared instantly. Mission accomplished. Relief flooded through him.

Sameer smiled softly. “Duniya ka koi ped yeh decide nahi kar sakta ke hum dono kitne janmo ke liye saath honge.” His thumb brushed across her cheek. “Lekin agar yeh saat janam wali baat sach hai…” His gaze held hers. “Toh mera waada hai tumse.” His voice softened. “Har janam me main sirf tumhara Sameer banna chahunga.”

For a moment Naina simply stared at him. Then a smile spread across her face. Radiant. Unrestrained. The kind that always left him slightly breathless.

A few feet away, Deepika pressed both hands dramatically to her heart. Rohan rolled his eyes. Aman looked suspiciously amused. And Jaiprakash’s smile widened knowingly. Neither Sameer nor Naina paid them the slightest attention.

And perhaps it was coincidence. Or perhaps Deepika would spend the next fifty years insisting otherwise. But at that exact moment a cool mountain breeze swept through the courtyard. The branches overhead rustled. Dry leaves swirled across the stone pathway. And from somewhere above, a single crimson flower detached itself. It floated downward in an elegant spiral before landing gently on Naina’s shoulder, catching itself in the folds of her pink dupatta.

Everyone fell silent. Even Sameer. Carefully, Naina lifted the flower into her palm. Wonder shone in her eyes. Then she laughed. A bright, musical sound that echoed through the marble courtyard and lingered there long after the flower had been tucked safely away.

Naturally, Deepika immediately declared that she wanted a turn too. The idea was rejected with remarkable speed. Before she could even take two steps towards the tree, both Sameer and Rohan objected. Apparently their eighteen-year-old sister was far too young to be worrying about love fortunes, soulmates or desirable life partners. Deepika was outraged. Naina laughed so hard she nearly doubled over watching the two overprotective brothers drag their protesting sister away from the tree while Jaiprakash openly sided with Deepika for no reason other than entertainment. In the end, Deepika was informed that she could test the tree after completing her degree. The announcement only increased her outrage.

 

When they finally emerged back into the sunlight, the world somehow felt louder. Brighter. More ordinary. And yet better. Perhaps it was the temple. Or perhaps it was simply one of those rare days when everything felt exactly right.

Lunch happened almost by accident. A small family-run restaurant tucked away near the marketplace caught their attention and, after a brief discussion, everyone agreed to stop. Nothing elaborate. No grand dining experience.

Just fresh rotis straight from the tawa, hot rice, simple vegetable curries, tangy buttermilk – homestyle Rajasthani food served with the kind of warmth that made one immediately feel welcome. Exactly the sort of meal that tasted far better than it had any right to.

By the time they returned to Aravalli Retreat, the afternoon sun had settled into a lazy golden haze. The gardens were quiet. The mountains seemed drowsy. Nobody objected when naps were suggested.  Not even Deepika. Though she insisted she was merely “resting her eyes.” No one believed her.

By evening the mountain air had turned pleasantly cool again. Refreshed and re-energized, the family piled back into the mini-coach and headed towards Nakki Lake. A brief stop at a roadside tea stall was deemed necessary first. The vendor looked mildly alarmed as Aman and Sameer jointly inspected the cleanliness of the cups, the water source and the preparation area before approving the purchase. Only then was tea allowed. The others found the entire process deeply entertaining. A short while later they reached the lake.

While Sameer, Aman and Rohan joined the ticket queue, Naina drifted towards the waterfront with Deepika and Jaiprakash. The sight before them was beautiful. The water reflected the evening sky like a sheet of molten gold. Dozens of boats drifted lazily across its surface. Their colorful reflections shimmered and stretched whenever the water rippled. The surrounding hills stood like silent guardians, their outlines gradually softening beneath the approaching sunset.

Along the promenade, life buzzed in every direction. Children ran about clutching balloons. A puppet show had gathered an enthusiastic audience of youngsters sitting cross-legged on the ground. Street vendors called out continuously.

“Chana-jor-garam!”

“Moongfali!”

“Chaat, papdi, pani-puri!”

Others displayed rows of colorful costume jewelry, embroidered handbags, wooden toys and custom keychains. Tourists wandered from stall to stall, bargaining enthusiastically. The entire lakeside felt festive. Alive. The sort of place where one could spend hours doing absolutely nothing and still enjoy every minute.

As Naina’s gaze wandered over the bustling marketplace, a particular stall caught her attention. Her eyes immediately lit up. A small smile appeared on her face. She made a mental note to mention it to Sameer later. After boating. Because if she told him now, she had a feeling the entire evening’s schedule would be abandoned in favor of shopping.

 

Naina was firmly banned from paddle boats. By unanimous vote. Her objections were ignored. Her husband, Nanu, Rohan, Aman and even Deepika all agreed that attempting to pedal a boat while pregnant was entirely unnecessary. Which resulted in Naina and Sameer occupying a comfortable shikara-style boat while the others divided themselves between two paddle boats. The arrangement suited Sameer perfectly.

The shikara glided across the water at an unhurried pace, shaded by a small canopy that protected them from the lingering evening sun. Cushioned benches lined the sides, allowing Naina to sit comfortably while their boatman handled all the work. A considerable improvement over paddle boats, in Sameer’s opinion. Not that he was biased. At all.

The moment they moved away from the shore, the lake seemed to transform. The sounds of the marketplace softened. The hills appeared taller. The water stretched endlessly around them, reflecting the orange and gold hues spreading across the sky.

Meanwhile, chaos unfolded elsewhere. Rohan ended up doing nearly all the pedaling in his boat.  Aman suffered a similar fate in the other. Their passengers contributed opinions. And absolutely nothing else. The resulting complaints could be heard from remarkable distances.

Safely removed from the drama, Sameer settled back and picked up his camera.

The sunset. The lake. The hills. The boats. The family.

He photographed everything. Or at least that was what he claimed.

Because when the film would eventually be developed, everyone would notice the same thing. Nearly every second photograph contained Naina. Naina looking at the mountains. Naina laughing. Naina pointing at something in the distance. Naina watching the water. Naina adjusting her dupatta in the breeze. Naina. Naina. And more Naina.

The boatman noticed too. A knowing smile appeared on his face. Without being asked, he offered to take a few photographs of the couple together. Sameer handed over the camera immediately.

One photograph was taken against the setting sun. Another with Toad Rock visible in the distance. Yet another near the small Shiva shrine carved into the rocks close to the center of the lake. Years later, those would remain among their favorite photographs.

Around them the lake continued to come alive. At regular intervals, fountains hidden beneath the water suddenly erupted into glittering sprays. Children squealed. Tourists pointed excitedly. And more than a few adventurous boatmen deliberately steered closer for entertainment.

One such fountain caught Rohan and Deepika completely by surprise. The water burst upward barely a few feet from their paddle boat. Before either could react, they were thoroughly drenched. Deepika shrieked. Rohan protested. Neither reaction helped. Their boatman laughed so hard he nearly stopped steering altogether. Watching from the safety of her own boat, Naina dissolved into laughter. The sound carried across the water. Sameer looked away from his camera just long enough to admire the sight. Her eyes sparkled. Her cheeks glowed pink from the cool breeze. And her laughter seemed to belong to the lake itself.

Still smiling, she leaned against his shoulder while their boatman expertly guided them around the fountains. The sun continued its slow descent behind the Aravalli hills. The water shimmered. The breeze cooled. And for a little while, the world felt perfectly content to drift along with them.

 

Once back on solid ground, Naina immediately grabbed Sameer’s hand and began pulling him through the marketplace. He followed without protest. Mostly because he was curious. The determination on her face suggested she had discovered something important.

It turned out to be a stall selling handcrafted wooden nameplates. Rows of polished plaques hung from the display wall – some ornate, some modern, some painted in bright colors.

Naina pointed immediately. “I want one.”

Sameer examined the collection critically. “Tumhe yeh chahiye?”

She nodded eagerly. “Haan. Mumbai wale ghar ke liye.” Then, after a brief pause, she added, “‘Sameer and Naina Maheshwari’ likha hua.”

Something warm settled inside his chest. He tilted his head thoughtfully before turning towards the vendor. “Saare designs dikhaiye.”

The next fifteen minutes were spent comparing styles, fonts and finishes. Eventually they settled on a vintage-style mahogany plaque with elegant copper-gold lettering. The vendor handed over a notepad. Sameer wrote down the details himself and arranged for the finished piece to be delivered to Aravalli Retreat later that evening.

Meanwhile Naina had already been distracted by Deepika. The two women were now enthusiastically examining customized keychains with names written on individual grains of rice. The concept itself didn’t particularly appeal to Naina. The process fascinated her. She watched for several minutes as the artisan worked beneath a magnifying lens.

Then something else caught her attention. A vendor’s cheerful holler echoed across the marketplace. “Budhiya ke baal!”

She turned immediately. A long wooden pole rose above the crowd, decorated with enormous pink clouds of cotton candy that looked like a bouquet from a fairy tale. Her mouth watered instantly.

A chuckle from beside her made her turn. Sameer was watching her. The amusement in his eyes suggested she had not been particularly subtle. Without a word he walked over to the vendor. Naturally, the purchase didn’t stop at one. Deepika wanted one. Rohan wanted one. Even Aman decided he wanted one. Only Jaiprakash declined, citing both his age and the alarming quantity of sugar involved. Sameer declined as well.

When he handed Naina her cotton candy, delight lit up her face. She attempted dignity. The attempt lasted approximately three seconds. Then she took an enormous bite. The sugary sweetness instantly transported her somewhere else. Somewhere years away.

A school courtyard. The final day of their eleventh-grade examinations. A rare reward from their families. Pani-puri shared with Swati and Preeti. And afterwards, a gigantic stick of cotton candy purchased using whatever money remained. She could still hear the conversation.

“Hum teeno aise ek-dusre ka jhootha kha rahe hai,” Swati had declared confidently. “Ab dekhna. Hamari dosti saari umar aise hi mazboot rahegi.”

Naina had frowned. “Aisa kyun?”

“Kyuki jhootha khane se pyaar badhta hai.”

When the other girls had burst out laughing, Swati had remained stubborn.

“Main sach bol rahi hun. Jab mujhe kisise pyaar hoga na, main toh aise hi pariksha lungi. Agar woh mera jhootha khaata hai toh matlab sach me pyaar karta hai. Aur nahi khata toh matlba sab pyaar ke daave jhoothe hai.”

The memory lingered. Naina looked down at the cotton candy in her hand. Then at her husband. For several moments she simply stood there thinking. Finally, gathering a little courage, she held the half-eaten stick towards him.

An offering. A question. A memory.

Sameer’s gaze shifted from her face to the cotton candy and back again. He had noticed her disappearing into her thoughts. Had noticed the distant look in her eyes. He hadn’t interrupted. And now, immediately upon returning from those memories, she was offering him the cotton candy.

He didn’t know what memory had surfaced. But he knew it mattered. Without a word, he gently wrapped his fingers around hers and lifted her hand slightly higher. Then he leaned forward and took a generous bite.

The moment he did, Naina smiled. Not the smile he knew now. Not the one shaped by loss, heartbreak, responsibilities and adulthood. This was different.

Lighter. Brighter. A smile untouched by any of those things.

For one fleeting moment, Sameer caught a glimpse of the girl she had once been. The teenager who had laughed with her friends. Who had dreamed about the future. Who had believed life would unfold exactly the way she wanted. Who had believed that everyone had goodness in them.

And as he stood there in the fading Mount Abu sunlight, he realized something. He loved that version of her too. Perhaps he always would.

 

Darkness had already settled by the time they returned to Aravalli Retreat. After freshening up and changing into comfortable clothes, they followed the smell of food towards the gardens. The bonfire was already burning when they arrived, golden flames dancing against the mountain night while strings of fairy lights glowed softly between the trees overhead. Nearby, grills sizzled as the hotel staff prepared an informal barbecue dinner beneath the stars. Another arrangement made by Sameer to bring alive the school trip experiences.

The evening unfolded effortlessly. Someone found music. Someone started telling stories. Plates were filled and refilled. The mountain air grew cooler as the hours slipped by.

At some point Deepika demanded a game of dumb-charades. At some point everyone regretted agreeing. Especially after she attempted to act out a movie none of them had ever heard of. Aman cheated shamelessly. Rohan protested loudly. Naina laughed until tears gathered in her eyes. Sameer discovered he was surprisingly good at the game. And through it all, Jaiprakash sat back in his chair, quietly watching his family with a contentment that rarely left his face that evening.

Slowly the bonfire burned lower. The conversations softened. The laughter became quieter. And above them, one by one, the stars appeared. Eventually someone checked the time. A collective groan followed.

Tomorrow morning they would leave. The realization settled over the group unexpectedly. Not sadness exactly. Just a gentle wistfulness. As though everyone had suddenly realized that they were witnessing the final few pages of a beautiful memory.

Eventually goodnights were exchanged and people drifted towards their rooms. Back in their suite, Naina stepped out onto the balcony while Sameer finished locking the doors behind them. The retreat had gone quiet. The bonfire had long been extinguished. The gardens below were lit only by a few lanterns scattered along the pathways. Beyond them, the mountains rose like dark silhouettes beneath the moonlit sky.

For several moments she simply stood there, breathing in the cool air. She had waited years to see Mount Abu. And somehow the trip already felt too short.

“Sweetheart.”

She turned. Sameer stood in the doorway holding a thick blanket.

“Thand lag jayegi.”

The smile that appeared on her face was immediate. A few minutes later they found themselves curled together on one of the balcony loungers, sharing the blanket between them. At first it had been practical. Then, as always seemed to happen with them, it became an excuse to sit impossibly close.

His arm settled around her shoulders. Her head found its familiar place against his chest. And together they looked up. The sky stretched endlessly above them. Far away from city lights, the stars seemed brighter than usual. Thousands of tiny points of light glittered across the darkness, turning the entire sky into something magical.

“Kitne saare taare…” Naina whispered.

Sameer followed her gaze. “Haan.”

For a while they simply watched in comfortable silence. Then curiosity got the better of her. “Yeh wala kaunsa hai?”

He squinted upwards. “No idea.”

She immediately laughed. “Tumhe kuch nahi pata.”

“I run businesses, sweetheart. Astronomy expert nahi hun.”

The reply earned another laugh. Fortunately, the hotel had left a small chart of constellations in their room for guests. They fetched it and spent the next half hour attempting to identify grehnakshatra with varying degrees of success.

Mostly failure.

At one point they became convinced they had located Saptarishi. Several minutes later they discovered they had been looking in entirely the wrong direction. The realization left both of them laughing so hard that Naina had to wipe tears from her eyes. Eventually she gave up trying. Nestling closer beneath the blanket, she rested her head against his shoulder once more.

The wind rustled softly through the trees below. Somewhere in the distance a dog barked. Above them, the stars continued their silent journey across the sky.

“Humara baby kaisa hoga?” she asked quietly after a long pause.

Sameer’s smile appeared instantly. “Bahot shararti.”

“Bilkul tumhari tarah.”

“Excuse me.”

She laughed softly. “Tum school mein kitne shararti the uski stories maine sun li hai.”

He considered defending himself. Then wisely decided against it.

A few moments later she asked, “Aur agar ladki hui toh?”

His answer came without hesitation. “Toh sabse zyada laadli hogi.”

“Sach bolna.”

“Main bilkul serious hun.”

His hand slipped beneath the blanket and came to rest protectively over her stomach.

“Our daughter will rule all of us.”

“And agar ladka hua toh?”

Sameer pretended to think. Then shrugged. “Woh bhi.”

The answer made her laugh again. After that, the conversation drifted wherever it wished. Names were discussed. Schools debated. Birthday parties imagined. Future vacations planned. Little dreams and hopes were shared beneath the stars, the sort of conversations that expectant parents had probably been having since the beginning of time.

Eventually even those words faded away. Not because they had run out of things to say. Simply because silence felt just as comforting. Naina snuggled closer beneath the blanket. Sameer rested his cheek lightly against her hair.

Neither felt any need to move. Tomorrow they would leave Mount Abu. Ahmedabad was waiting. Life was waiting. The responsibilities. The challenges. The future.

But for tonight, wrapped together beneath a shared blanket, surrounded by mountains, stars and dreams of the child they already loved, none of that seemed particularly important. Tonight was simply theirs. And somehow, that felt like the perfect way to say goodbye.