It was early morning, the rays of the sun casting beautiful starks of light against the curtains of their bedroom.
Shriya's eyes fluttered open slowly, her body much lighter than yesterday.why did her stomach feel warm? Why was there something pressed against her abdomen?
She shifted slightly and winced. The cramps were still there, though significantly less intense than yesterday.
She turned her head and froze.
Veer was sitting on the floor next to the bed, sitting upright, and his head was tilted back at an uncomfortable angle, he was finally asleep.
His hair was messed up, his shirt from yesterday was wrinkled, and there were dark circles under his eyes. In his hands, even in sleep, he was holding a glass.
A glass of haldi milk.
Shriya sat up slowly, and stared at him.
She looked at the bedside table and saw multiple water rings, evidence of glasses that had been placed and removed, placed and removed.
How many times had he made fresh milk? How many times had he changed the hot water bag?
"Veer ji," she called out softly, testing to see if he'd wake up.
She gently brushed his hair out of the way, and removed his spectacles. Then she slowly approached his temple, and pressed a soft kiss there..
Her soft lips pressed against the warm skin of his temples.
" Kitne pyaare lagte ho aap. So beautiful, like the heavens came down in our bedroom and blessed you" she said softly.
His eyes moved under his eyelids but he didn't wake.
Shriya was about to kiss his forehead again, but his hand, the one not holding the glass. reached out and gently caught her wrist.
Shriya, caught off-balance, fell forward right onto him.
She landed against his chest with a soft "oof!" and he made a surprised sound, the glass of milk not spilling as his other hand automatically came up to steady her.
"Shriya ji," he mumbled, his eyes still closed, his voice thick with sleep. "Aap... aap theek hain na? Dard toh nahi..."
"Main theek hoon, par aap—"
His eyes flew open.
For a moment, they both froze.
Shriya was pressed against his chest, her hands on his shoulders to keep from falling further. His arm was wrapped around her waist, holding her steady.
She could feel his heartbeat speeding up under her palm.
"Main... main sorry—" she started, her face heating up, trying to push herself back up.
But his arm around her waist tightened just slightly, keeping her there, and his lips curved into a small, sleepy smile.
Shriya's face went bright red. "Veer ji! Chhodiye mujhe—"
"Kyun?" His smile widened just a fraction, that rare teasing glint appearing in his tired eyes. "Aap khud aayi hain mere paas. Main toh bas... so raha tha."
"Aapne mujhe kheencha!"
"Maine? Main toh so raha tha." His voice was all innocence, but his eyes were definitely amused now. ". Sorry. Main... main sapne mein tha. Reflex ke wajah se hua tha."
"Reflex, what are you... spiderman?" she repeated grumbling, trying to push herself up, but his other hand, was keeping her in place.
"Haan, aapke liye toh kuch bhi." he teased.
"Veer ji!" She tried to sound stern, but her face was burning and her heart was doing complicated things in her chest.
He reached up with his free hand and very gently tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering for just a second near her cheek.
"Aap... aap achhe se so paayi?" he asked quietly, his eyes searching her face. "Dard kam hua?"
The tenderness in his voice, the way he was looking at her, the gentle touch, it all made her want to melt like ice cream.
She pulled back, pushing against his chest, she sat back on her heels, putting distance between them.
"Haan," she said, her voice a little stiff. "Theek hoon. Thank you."
Veer sat up as well, wincing as he moved. "Argh. Floor pe sone se peeth mein dard ho raha hai."
"Toh bed pe so jaate," Shriya pointed out, crossing her arms. "Koi rok thodi raha tha."
"Main... main bas aise hi rehna chahta tha. Agar aapko kuch chahiye hota toh immediately..." He gestured vaguely at the glasses on the bedside table. "Isliye."
"Kitni baar haldi milk banaya aapne?"
"Har ghante," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "Ek ghante mein thanda ho jaata tha toh... toh fresh banata tha. Aur heat pack bhi. Har ghante refill karta tha."
"Saari raat?"
"Haan."
She was quiet then responded, "Aapko sona chahiye tha."
"Aapko dard mein dekhne se zyada zaroori nahi tha." he responded with no hesitation in his tone.
But looking at him now, sitting on the floor with four glasses and at the dark circles under his eyes because he'd stayed up all night taking care of her, it was hard to hold onto the anger she had for him.
"Aapko sona chahiye," she said finally, softening just slightly. "Properly. Bed pe."
"Haan, par pehle..." Veer shifted, getting to his knees, then slowly standing up with a groan. "Pehle ek sawaal."
"Kya?"
He looked down at her, and there was something mischievous in his tired eyes. "Main utha doon yeh?"
Shriya blinked thinking he was referring to the glasses.. "Kya? Matlab? Kahan— kya uthaana hai"
Before she could finish the question, Veer bent down and scooped her up in his arms, one arm under her knees, one behind her back, lifting her off the floor in one smooth motion.
"VEER JI!" She grabbed onto his shoulders for balance, her heart jumping. "Aap... kya kar rahe hain?!"
He smiled, "Aapko utha raha hoon. Aap hi ne toh pucha tha."
"Maine nahi pucha tha! Aapne pucha tha!"
"Ab hadd ho rahi hai!" she exclaimed.
" Maine aapko sone ko kaha tha na!" she said exasperated.
" Haan wahi toh kar raha hoon.. Waise bhi.. Mujhe meri biwi ... ke bina neend thodi aayegi" he said gently laying her down.
" hai na ashi ji?" he asked.
" Ashi ji??? Yeh kya?" she asked confused and so flustered.
" Arrey Ashi ji.. Bhul gayi aap.... It means beautiful smile" he smiled softly poking her cheeks.
" Theek hai chalo" he said settling into the bed and pulling the duvet cover above them.
She quickly schooled her expression back to neutral. "Main abhi bhi naraaz hoon."
"I know." "Par thoda kam naraaz? Maybe?"
"...Maybe," she admitted reluctantly.
His smile widened. "Progress. Main le lunga."
She rolled her eyes and went turned to the other side.
He chuckled softly, closing his eyes.
[Two hours later - 10:30 AM]
She opened her eyes to find Veer propped up on one elbow, looking down at her with soft eyes and a small smile.
"Aap uth gaye?" she mumbled, still half-asleep.
"Haan. Aap bahut gehri neend mein thi toh maine socha thoda rest le lun phir... phir sab plan kar lun."
"Sab... plan?"
"Haan." He sat up properly, looking more refreshed after his two-hour nap, though still tired. "Aaj ka din. Aapka din. Main... main sab kuch aapke liye karna chahta hoon jo aapko achha lage."
Shriya sat up too, wincing slightly.
Veer's eyes immediately went sharp with concern. "Abhi bhi dard hai? Main aur milk banau? Ya painkillers—"
"Nahi, nahi, main theek hoon. Yeh... yeh... Do-teen din lagenge completely jaane mein."
"Toh... toh in do-teen din main bhi main... mai office se chutti loon?" he asked.
" arrey nahi yeh..this is normal" she said flustered.
" arrey fikar mat karo.. Sachi.. I will take the day off." he said softly.
Veer stood up from the bed and stretched, his knuckles and back making small cracking sounds.
"Achha," he said, turning to face her.
"Breakfast. Aapko kya pasand hai? Kya banana chahiye? Toast? Poha? Upma? Paranthe?"
"Arrey par Mummyji—"
"Mummy aaj rest kar rahi hain, so don't worry." Veer said firmly. "Aur main... main banana chahta hoon. Ya... ya order karna chahta hoon. Jo bhi aap chaho."
"Theek hai," she said softly. "Toh... toh aaj... aaj main bed se nahi uthuungi. Aur aap... aap mujhe woh sab laake denge jo main chahungi?"
His face lit up. "Deal. Bilkul deal. Aap bas batayiye kya chahiye."
"Pehle—" She pointed at him. "Aap fresh ho jaiye. Go take a shower.. Kapde badal dijiye. Aap kal se same kapdon mein hain."
"Par—"
"Veer ji, main wait kar lungi. Pehle aap apna khayal rakhiye."
He looked like he wanted to argue, but then nodded. "Theek hai. Par... par main jaldi se aata hoon. Aap kahaan nahi jaayengi?"
"Main bed pe hi hoon. Kahan jaaungi?"
"Haan. Right. Okay." He was already heading to the bathroom, then paused at the door. "Uthna hai toh mujhe batana. Main help karunga."
"Veer ji, main periods pe hoon, disabled nahi hoon. Main uth sakti—"
Twenty minutes later, Veer emerged from the bathroom, freshly showered, dressed in comfortable grey track pants and a white t-shirt.
"Better?" Shriya asked.
"Haan. Much better." He came and sat on the edge of the bed. "Ab batayiye. Kya chahiye aapko?"
Shriya thought for a moment. "Actually... mujhe bahut bhook lagi hai. Par... par heavy kuch nahi khana. Something light."
"Comforting. Light. Okay." Veer pulled out his phone.
"Aur kuch specific? Sweet? Salty? Spicy?"
"Maybe... maybe dal chawal?. Gharelu. Aur... aur thoda sa dahi?"
"Dal chawal. Dahi. Perfect. Main... main order kar deta hoon ya—"
"Aap bana sakte hain?"
He paused, looking uncertain. "Main... main try kar sakta hoon. Par agar accha nahi bana toh—"
"Toh hum order kar lenge," Shriya said simply. "Par aap try toh kariye."
He looked at her for a long moment, then nodded. "Okay. Main try karta hoon. Aap... aap rest kijiye. Main aadhhe ghante mein aata hoon."
"Veer ji?"
"Haan?"
"Thank you. Kal... kal raat ke liye. Saari raat yahaan baithe rehne ke liye."
His expression softened. "Aapko thank you bolne ki zaroorat nahi hai."
Before she could respond, he stood up quickly, his ears turning red. "Main... main dal chawal banane jaata hoon. Aap rest kijiye."
And he was gone, practically fleeing the room.
Shriya lay back against the pillows, a small smile playing on her lips despite the dull ache in her abdomen.
...............................
Akshay parked his jeep in the circular driveway of the Malhotra Mansion. That had been over a week ago. A week of distance, of ignored calls, of letting his family assume he was buried in casework when really, he'd been coming home to Aaravi every night, to her laughter spilling into their tiny kitchen, to her sprawled across their couch with her books, to the kind of peace ( he would never admit) he'd never thought he'd find in another person.
When he opened the front door, Smita Malhotra, her face immediately lit up when she saw him.
"Akshay," she smiled, and he moved towards her , bending down to touch her feet.
"Mummy," he murmured, and her hand came to rest on his head in blessing. When he straightened, she cupped his face with both hands.
"Itne din kahan the tum? Phone bhi nahi uthate, ghar bhi nahi aate—" Her voice wavered and Akshay felt the guilt to his core.
Before he could answer, his father's voice cut through from the living room, sharply,
"Akshay. Andar aao."
Akshay walked into the living room, and there was Vikram Malhotra, seated in his usual chair with a newspaper folded in his lap and reading glasses perched on his nose. Veer was busy on his laptop, and Shriya was next to him looking tense and nervous in her pink saree.
"Saat din," Vikram said.
"Saat din se ghar se gayab ho, phone nahi uthate, koi khabar nahi, yeh kya tarika hai, Akshay?"
. "Case tha, Papa. kaam hota hai, aap jaante hain. Time nahi milta kabhi kabhi." he said again.
"Case." Vikram repeated the word bitterly. "Sharmas ka phone aaya tha do din pehle. Pooch rahe the ki tumne Jeevika ke saath kuch baat ki ya nahi. Mai kya jawaab doon unhe? Ki mera beta ghar chhod kar chala gaya, bina kuch bole?"
"Maine unhe koi jawaab nahi diya," Akshay said evenly, meeting his father's gaze without flinching. "Aur na hi doonga. Mujhe shaadi nahi karni unki beti se."
Vikram's expression darkened. "AKSHAY kitni baar samjhau tujhe! Tumhe shaadi hi nahi karni? Akshay, tumhari umar ho gayi hai. Sab settle ho rahe hain, Veer bhi settle ho gaya, aur tum—"
"Papa." Veer's cut in gently. "Agar Akshay Bhaiyya ko abhi nahi karni shaadi, toh zabardasti ka kya fayda? Waise bhi.. Woh toh unki khud ki manmaani chalaate hai."
Vikram opened his mouth to argue, but Smita appeared in the doorway, her voice gentle, "Vikram ji, bas. Akshay abhi aaya hai ghar. Thoda toh sukoon se baith jaane do." She turned to Akshay, "Tum fresh ho jao, beta. Khana lag raha hai."
Akshay nodded, grateful for the reprieve, and moved toward the stairs. But before he could escape, his mother caught his wrist.
"Akshay," she said quietly, her eyes searching his again. "Sach sach batao, tum theek toh ho na? Health theek hai? Kha rahe ho na dhang se?"
He covered her hand with his, squeezed gently.
"Haan, Mummy. Main bilkul theek hoon. Aap apna khayaal rakh rahi hain na? Dawaiyaan time pe le rahi hain?"
Smita smiled, a little watery. "Haan, beta. Sab theek hai."
"Blood pressure check karwaya tha iss hafte?"
"Haan, haan. Dr. Mehra ne kaha sab normal hai."
Akshay nodded, satisfied, and pressed a kiss to her forehead before finally letting go. He glanced over at Shriya, who was still sitting quietly beside Veer, and his expression gentled further.
"Shriya bhabhi," he said, and she looked up, startled "Aap kaisi hain?"
"Main, main theek hoon, Akshay bhaiyya," she stammered.
Akshay walked over, crouched down in front of the sofa so he was at eye level with her, ignoring Veer, " Sach mein? Yeh banda," he jerked his chin toward Veer, "theek se treat kar raha hai na aapko? Koi pareshani ho toh mujhe batayein, main iska dekh loonga."
Shriya's eyes widened, and she let out a surprised laugh, shaking her head. "Nahi nahi, sab theek hai. Veer ji bahut acche hain."
Veer rolled his eyes. "Bhai, main yahan baith hoon. Meri buraai kam se kam meri saamne mat karo."
Akshay smirked, straightening up. "Buraai nahi, sach hi toh keha raha hoon." He clapped Veer on the shoulder.
By the time Akshay finally left the mansion, the sun had dipped below the horizon. He drove back to the apartment.
He unlocked the door and stepped inside, and there was Aaravi, sprawled on the floor in front of the coffee table, surrounded by textbooks and highlighters and crumpled papers, her hair pulled was tied in another braid he had made that day, much better than the first one. , and her black glasses were sliding down her nose. She looked up when he entered, and her entire face brightened.
"Arey, ACP sahab! Aakhir aa hi gaye!" She scrambled to her feet, grinning. "Kaisa raha? Ghar mein sab theek?"
Akshay closed the door behind him, kicked off his shoes, and walked over to her. He didn't answer immediately, just reached out and booped her nose, his smile small and fond.
"Haan," he said quietly. "Sab theek hai."
Akshay moved toward the kitchen. "Khana khaya aapne?"
"Haan, Mishti ne bheja tha aloo paratha. Tumhare liye bhi rakha hai."
" Tumhaare?" he questioned.
" Oh sorry.. Aapke liye." she said correcting herself.
He chuckled softly, " arrey maazak kar raha tha.. "Tum" hi bol doon sahi lagta hai. Aap thoda jyada hi formal hojaati hai. Waise bhi bade logon ko "aap" bolte hai" mujhe thod.
She raised her eyebrow, " haan toh aap thodi kam buddhe ho."
He widened his mouth in mock offense, " Mai buddha? Please 4 saal bada hoon aapse"
" Haan lekin harkatein toh nabbe saal ke buddhe jaise karte ho" she grumbled.
" Acha.. aur aap kya kam bachi jaise harkatein karti hai" he shot back.
She pinched his arm in retailiation.
" Aaahh. Dekho" he winced on purpose.
He shook his head, already pulling out containers from the fridge. " Anyways woh sab chodo,"
"Main Pune jaa raha hoon iss weekend," Akshay said.
"Kya? Sach mein?" she replied.
"Haan.briefing hai Pune Police ke saath. Saturday subah nikalna padega."
Aaravi's eyes lit up . She slid off the counter and grabbed his arm, bouncing slightly on her toes. "Toh matlab main bhi aa sakti hoon? Please? Please please please? Akshay, please—"
"Aaravi—"
"Main promise karti hoon main tumhe disturb nahi karungi! Tum apne kaam karo, main apna kaam, aur phir shaam ko we can meet up and—"
"Aaravi." He turned to face her fully, his expression exasperated but fond. "Breathe."
She sucked in a breath, held it, and looked up at him with those wide, hopeful eyes that she definitely knew how to weaponize and had been using on him.
Akshay sighed. "Fine. Aap aa sakti ho."
"YESSSS!" Aaravi exclaimed.
"Lekin," he said firmly, steadying her, "ek condition hai."
She pulled back just enough to look at him suspiciously. "Kya?"
"Aapko waha jaake hotel room padhna padega. Seriously. No excuses."
"Done! Pakka! Main padhungi, promise!" She was already pulling out her phone, swiping through tabs. "Hotel book kar doon? Kaunsa area theek rahega?"
Akshay moved back to the stove, poured the boiling water over tea leaves. "Deccan area ke paas dekh lo."
They spent the next twenty minutes scrolling through hotel listings. Until they finally settled on a decent hotel with good reviews. Akshay handed over his card without a word when she hesitated at the payment screen, and she bumped her shoulder against his in silent thanks.
"Waise," Aaravi said, setting her phone down and picking up her chai, "Khandoba Mandir Jejuri mein, wahan se zyada door nahi hai. Like one and a half, two hours max."
Akshay sighed. "Aaravi—"
"Hum jaa sakte hain na? Subah jaldi nikalenge, darshan leke wapas aa jayenge. Please?"
He looked at her over the rim of his cup, her eyes had gone soft and hopeful again.
"Aaravi, mera briefing hai. Most likely Sunday bhi kaam hoga. Time nahi milega shayad."
Her face fell, just a little, but she nodded and forced a smile. "Haan, haan. I know. No problem. Main samajhti hoon."
Akshay watched her and notice how she tried to hide her disappointment behind that bright white smile, and kept it away somewhere in the back of his mind. He was not the kind of man to make promises he couldn't keep.
"Ab jao Padhai kar. Nahi toh Pune cancel." he said.
She saluted him dramatically, grabbed her books, and settled back down on the floor. Akshay chuckled at her antics.
" Pagal Ladki" he murmured softly watching her settle.
...........................................................................................................................
The Nature's Basket in Bandra was bustling for evening time.
₹450 for organic quinoa? ₹600 for imported olive oil? ₹850 for a jar of almond butter that was smaller than Mishti's fist?
Mishti Banerjee stood in the grains aisle, staring at a packet of "artisanal hand-pounded poha" priced at ₹320, and glared.
"Haaye Bhagwan," she muttered under her breath, putting the poha back on the shelf.
"Yeh log sone mein toh nahi bech rahe? Hand-pounded. Matlab kya farak padta hai kaun pound kiya? Machine ne ya haath ne? Khane mein toh same hi lagega!"
She pushed her cart, currently containing exactly three items: Pihu's cereal (₹650, highway robbery), a packet of atta (₹200), and one bottle of juice (₹180).
₹120 per kilo for tomatoes? ₹200 for capsicum? ₹150 for bhindi?!
"Yeh vegetables hain ya sona bech rahe hai!" she muttered."Itne paise mein toh main—"
"Haaye Bhagwan," she groaned, pressing her hand to her forehead dramatically. "Kakdi! KAKDI ek sau assi ki! Main toh kakdi khaane layak bhi nahi rahi ab! Gareeb ho gayi main! Barbad!"
"Itna drama toh Ekta Kapoor bhi nahi karti."
Mishti closed her eyes, counted to three, and turned around slowly.
Lieutenant Abhimanyu Khanna stood there in civilian clothes. jeans and a navy blue t-shirt that fit him annoyingly well, with his own shopping cart, grinning at her.
she said flatly. "Tumhe yahaan dekhke mera din aur bhi kharab ho gaya. Congratulations."
"Aww, Mirchi! Itna pyaar?" He put a hand over his heart dramatically. "I'm so touched!"
"Touching toh main tumhe karungi. Sar pe. Is tomato se. Zor se." She held up the ₹120 tomato threateningly.
"Violent, promise ya threat?" Abhi said cheerfully, pushing his cart closer. "Aur wasteful bhi. Woh tomato ₹120 ka hai. Itne paise mein toh ek cutting chai pi sakte hain."
"Cutting chai ₹20 ki hoti hai, genius."
"Haan, toh chhah cutting chai. Maths weak hai kya tumhari?"
Mishti glared at him. "Meri math bilkul theek hai. Tumhare dimaag mein problem hai."
"Haan haan." He leaned against his cart, looking entirely too relaxed and smug. "Toh batao, Mirchi, itni mehengi dukaan mein kya kar rahi ho? Ameeri aa gayi kya? Business chal raha hai achha?"
"Aap!" Mishti pointed at him accusingly. "Aap yahaan kya kar rahe hain?! Mera peecha kar rahe hain kya?!"
"Haan, bilkul," Abhimanyu said dryly, gesturing around at the grocery store. "Maine apni puri evening free rakhi thi taaki main tumhara peecha kar sakun vegetable section mein. Yeh hi toh mera life goal hai."
"Toh phir yahaan kyun aaye? Apne ghar ke paas toh do-teen grocery stores hain!"
"Wahi toh baat hai. Yahaan bhi toh main apne ghar ke paas hi hoon." He raised an eyebrow. "Tumhe yaad hai na ki hum neighbors hain? Same building? Ya woh bhi bhool gayi?"
"Toh aap bhi yahaan overpriced cheezein kharidne aaye hain?" she asked, crossing her arms. "Tumhaare paas itna paisa hai?"
"Pihu ka cereal," Mishti said through gritted teeth, gesturing at her pathetically empty cart. "Sirf yahaan milta hai. Warna main kyun aaungi is... is overpriced showroom mein?"
"Tum yahaan kya kar rahe ho?" she asked instead.
"Nahi, main toh bas explore kar raha tha." He gestured around vaguely. "Nimmi Maasi ne suna hai ki yahaan imported cheese milta hai. Woh try karna chahti hain."
Mishti replied dryly. "Mumbai mein. Nature's Basket mein?."
"Exactly!" Abhi grinned. "Maine bhi yahi kaha! Par Maasi ne chappal fenkne ki dhamki di toh main aa gaya."
Mishti snorted despite herself, then quickly turned it into a cough. "Tumhe Nimmi Maasi se dar lagta hai?""
This time Mishti couldn't stop the small laugh that escaped.
Abhi's grin widened triumphantly. "Aha! Tum hasi! Maine tumhe hasaya!"
"Maine nahi hasi," Mishti lied, turning back to the vegetables with great interest. "Woh... woh khaasi aayi thi."
"Haan haan, bilkul. Khaasi jo 'ha ha' jaisa sound karta hai."
"Abhimanyu—"
"Ji, Mirchi ji?" He was right next to her now, looking over her shoulder at the vegetables. "Yeh sab kya dekh rahi ho? Itni mehegi sabziyan. Tumhare budget mein toh nahi aayengi."
Mishti whipped around to glare at him. "Excuse me? Tumhe kaise pata ki mera budget kya hai?"
"Kyunki main tumhe jaanta hoon." He started counting on his fingers. "Ek: Tum single mother ho. Do: Tumhaare job abhi bhi stable nahi hai. Teen: Tumne pichhle hafte Pihu ko D-Mart waale shoes dilaye the instead of branded ones kyunki 'itne paise mein do jode aa jaate hain.'"
Mishti's jaw dropped. "Tum... tum yeh sab kaise—HOW DO YOU KNOW THIS?!"
"Nahi nahi, woh Pihu ne khud bataya tha. 'Mumma ne mujhe D-Mart se shoes dilaye kyunki Pretty ones bahut mehnge the.'" He mimicked Pihu's little voice perfectly.
Mishti's face was burning now from irritation, she threw the tomato back into its display.
"Agar tum itne hi smart ho, Mr. Detective Skills, toh batao ki main kya kharidun jo mere budget mein ho AUR nutritious bhi ho Pihu ke liye aur itna ,mehenga bhi nahi!!"
"Challenge accepted!" He grabbed the handle of her cart. "Chalo. Main tumhe sikhata hoon kaise smart shopping karte hain."
"Arre! MERE CART KO HAATH MAT LAGAO!"
"Too late! Maine lagaya!" He was already pushing her cart away from the overpriced vegetables, toward the other side of the store. "Pehle toh, yeh fancy tomatoes bhool jao. ₹120 per kilo? Pagalpanti hai. Udhar normal section hai, wahan ₹60 mein mil jayenge. Half price."
"Par... par woh organic nahi honge—"
"Mirchi, tumhe pata bhi hai organic ka matlab kya hota hai?"
"Haan! Matlab... matlab bina chemicals ke—"
"Sab propaganda hai," Abhi declared.
"Maine ek documentary dekhi thi. Organic bhi pesticides use karte hain. Bas different type ke. Marketing gimmick hai."
"Tumne EK documentary dekhi aur ab tum expert ban gaye?!"
"Haan!" He stopped the cart in front of a different vegetable section, definitely less fancy, but also definitely cheaper. "Dekho. Same tomatoes. ₹60 per kilo. Tumhara ₹60 bach gaya. Thank me later."
Mishti wanted to argue. Wanted to point out that he was being insufferable and bossy and who did he think he was, hijacking her shopping cart?!
But... ₹60 was ₹60.
"Fine," she muttered, grabbing a kilo of the cheaper tomatoes.
She ignored it and tossed the tomatoes into the cart. "Aur kya, Mr. Smart Shopper? Kya wisdom doge?"
"Bohot kuch!" He was way too enthusiastic about this. "Dekho, capsicum bhi yahan half price hai. Aur bhindi, pyaaz, everything. Tum sirf fancy packaging dekh ke impress ho gayi thi."
"Main impress nahi hui thi—"
"Haan, aur main Shahrukh Khan hoon." He steered the cart toward the snacks aisle. "Chalo, ab important section mein chalte hain."
"Important? Kaunsa important—ABHIMANYU, YEH SNACKS SECTION HAI!"
"Exactly! Bahut important!" He started loading chips into the cart. "Pihu ko yeh waale pasand hain. Cream & Onion."
"Pihu ko healthly food chahiye, junk food nahi!"
"Mirchi, bachhi hai woh. Thoda toh junk food khane do." He added a packet of chocolate cookies. "Aur yeh waale bhi. Oreos. "
"Tumhe kya lagta hai main apni beti ko junk food nahi deti?" Mishti tried to grab the cookies back but Abhi held them out of reach. "Main deti hoon! Par limit mein!"
"Haan haan, control freak ho tum. Pata hai." He added juice boxes, the fancy ones with no added sugar. "Par dekho, yeh healthy hai.."
"Juice boxes healthy nahi hote, woh sugar bombs hote hain—"
"THESE ones are 100% fruit juice! No added sugar! Dekho packaging!" He shoved the box in her face.
"Yeh... okay fine, yeh le sakte hain," she admitted grudgingly. "Par bas EK pack. Not three!"
"Two packs," Abhi negotiated, already putting a second one in the cart. "Compromise."
"That's not how compromise—ABHIMANYU!"
"Yeh chocolate chip cookies! Yeh sugar-coated cereal! Yeh—yeh kya hai? CANDY NECKLACE?! Kaun pehnta hai candy necklace?!" she scowled.
"Pihu ne manga tha! Usne YouTube pe dekha tha—" he said.
"YouTube! Haan! Wahan toh bahut educational cheezein hain! Agle video mein woh dragon banana sikhegi toh aap use petrol aur matchstick bhi dila doge?!" she shot back angrily.
He just grinned and moved on, and Mishti found herself following with her hijacked shopping cart, torn between wanting to strangle him and being reluctantly grateful that he actually did seem to know what Pihu liked.
They made their way through the store, Abhi confidently grabbing things and adding them to the cart.
"Yeh pasta nahi, YEH pasta!"
"Woh same cheez hai! Same brand!"
"Nahi! Yeh penne hai, woh fusilli! Shape different hai!"
"KYA FARAK PADTA HAI SHAPE SE?!"
"Sauce distribution! Penne mein better coating hoti hai!"
"Pscho! Kisko farak padta hai pasta shape se?!"
An elderly man browsing the pasta section hurriedly moved to a different aisle.
"Pihu ko dark chocolate pasand nahi hai," Mishti said firmly, removing the 70% cocoa bar Abhi had added to the cart.
"Par yeh healthy hai! Less sugar!"
"Aur taste mein kadwa! Woh thoosegi bhi nahi!"
"Acquired taste hai. Main sikhaunga use—"
"TUM NAHI SIKHAAOGE USE KUCH BHI!"
"Kyun? Main uska... main uska..." Abhi paused, suddenly looking uncertain. "Main... friend hoon na?"
"Tum... haan," she said quietly, her anger deflating slightly. "Tum uske friend ho. Best friend, actually. Woh tumse bahut attached hai."
Abhi's face brightened immediately. "Sachi?"
"Haan, sachi. Don't be so proud. Tumhara sar pehle se hi bahut bada hai."
"Mera sar perfect size ka hai, thank you very much!"
Mishti was reaching for milk chocolate when she became aware of someone watching them.
An aunty in her sixties, wearing a expensive-looking salwar suit and holding a basket full of imported goods was staring at them with great interest.
Next to her, an uncle, her husband, was also watching with an amused expression.
Mishti straightened up, suddenly self-conscious. "Kya... kya hua?"
The aunty smiled widely. "Sorry beta, hum bas... aap dono ko dekh rahe the. Kitna cute lag raha hai!"
"Cute?" Mishti repeated, confused.
"Haan! Young couple! Itni sweet fighting!" The aunty clasped her hands together. "Humare zamaane mein bhi aise hi hua karte the. Pati-patni ke beech chhoti chhoti nok-jhok. Pyaar ki nishaani hai!"
Mishti's brain short-circuited.
"Pati... PATI-PATNI?!"
"Haan na!" The uncle joined in, chuckling. "Beta, yeh toh hota hai married life mein. Grocery shopping sabse zyada ladaaiyan yahan hoti hain! Humara bhi yahi haal hai!" He gestured at his wife. "Inke saath shopping mein aata hoon toh wallet mein saare paise udd jaate"
"Arrey, tum bhi toh har useless cheez uthaa lete ho!" the aunty swatted her husband's arm.
"Dekha?" The uncle winked at Abhi. "Yeh kabhi khatam nahi hota. Par mazaa bhi toh yahan hai!"
Abhi's eyes were dancing with barely suppressed laughter.
And the absolute MENACE winked.
"Abhi toh nahi hui hai shaadi hamari," he said cheerfully.
The aunty's eyes went wide with delight. "OHHH! ENGAGEMENT?! Pre-wedding shopping?!"
"NAHI!" Mishti finally found her voice. "Nahi nahi nahi! Yeh... yeh kuch nahi hai! Hum married nahi hain! Engaged nahi hain!!"
"Arrey, sharmaao mat!" the aunty said, clearly not believing her. "Hum jaante hain aajkal ke bachhe shaadi se pehle thoda hesitate karte hain. Par itna pyaar hai toh—"
"PYAAR?!" Mishti's voice had reached a pitch that could shatter glass. "KISKA PYAAR?! KAHAN?!"
"Arrey beta, itna obvious hai!" The uncle laughed. "Tum dono ki chemistry dekho! Fighting bhi kitni cute kar rahe ho! Our Soumya and her husband bhi aise hi—"
"Oho!" The aunty didn't look convinced at all. "Toh love-hate relationship hai! Woh bhi bahut romantic hai! Maine ek Korean serial mein dekha tha—"
Mishti wanted to disappear into the floor. Yeh... yeh bas... hum neighbors hain! Sirf neighbors! Aur... aur yeh mere bachhi ko junk food khila rahe hain bina permission ke—"
"Tumhari bachhi?" The uncle's eyebrows rose. "Toh... toh aap dono ke saath bachha bhi hai? Aur shaadi nahi hai?"
"NAHI!" Mishti was ready to combust. "Woh MERI bachhi hai! Sirf meri! Inka koi... inka isme koi role nahi hai—"
"Except main uska favorite uncle hoon," Abhimanyu added helpfully. "Woh mujhe sabse zyada pyaar karti hai. Mujhe 'Maan Uncle' bulati hai—"
"Shut UP" Mishti whirled on him. "Aap kuch mat bolo! Aapki wajah se yeh log confuse ho rahe hain—"
"Main toh bas sach bol raha hoon—"
"Sach? SACH?! Aapne kaha 'abhi toh nahi hui shaadi'! Yeh kaunsa sach hai?!"
"Maine kaha abhi toh nahi hui. Maine yeh thodi kaha ki hogi—"
"PAR AAP IMPLY KAR RAHE THE KI HOGI!"
"Maine kuch imply nahi kiya! Tumne assume kiya!"
"MAIN NE KUCH ASSUME NAHI KIYA—"
"Arre arre," the aunty interrupted, still smiling like this was the most entertaining thing she'd seen all week. " Theek hai baba..." "Itna lad rahe hain! Toh aap dono bhai-behen hain kya?"
"BHAI BEHEN?!" she screeched, her voice reaching registers only dogs could hear. "HUME BHAI BEHEN BOL RAHE HAIN AAP?!"
"Haan toh!" The aunty looked confused. "Shaadi nahi hai aapki. Toh phir—"
"BHAI BEHEN NAHI HAIN HUM!" Abhimanyu said loudly, and Mishti was gratified to see that he looked equally horrified. "Bilkul nahi! Main... main usse... main kabhi bhai jaisa... NO. Big NO. Huge NO."
"Par beta, aap toh uske liye itna sab khareed rahe hain," the aunty pointed at Abhimanyu's overflowing cart. "Aur itni fikar kar rahe hain. Agar aap neighbors ho sirf, toh itna involve kyun hain?"
"Main... woh..." Abhimanyu was floundering now too. "Main bas... Pihu meri... woh mere liye bahut special hai aur—"
"Haan! Dekha!" The aunty turned to her husband triumphantly. "Special hai! Matlab relationship hai! Toh shaadi-shuda hi hain aap log!"
"NAHI!" both of them yelled simultaneously.
"Toh bhai behen hain!"
"NAHI!"
"Toh shaadi-shuda!"
"NAHIIIII!"
The aunty and uncle exchanged glances, then the aunty patted Mishti's hand kindly. "Beta, it's okay. Aaj kal ke zamane mein sab samajhte hain. Live-in relationship bhi theek hai. Hum modern hain—"
"LIVE-IN?!" Mishti wanted to die. Right there in the grocery store between the pasta and the cereal. "Hum live-in mein nahi hain! Hum... hum KUCH mein nahi hain! NOTHING! Zero relationship!"
"Theek hai, theek hai," he said, pulling his wife away gently. "Hum jaate hain. Aap dono... jo bhi ho... apna kaam karo. All the best."
"Haan beta," the aunty added as they walked away. "Aur jaldi se shaadi kar lo. Bachha already hai, toh ab formality hi bachi hai!"
They disappeared around the corner, leaving Mishti and Abhimanyu standing in stunned, mortified silence.
Then Mishti turned very slowly to look at Abhimanyu.
"Yeh," she said, her voice dangerously quiet, "aapki galti hai."
"MERI GALTI?! Maine kya kiya?!"
Abhi was full-on grinning now, clearly enjoying every second of Mishti's meltdown. "Mirchi, relax karo. Uncle Aunty ko explain—"
" SHUT UP!" she poked his chest angrily
"Bhai-behen," Abhi said,"BHAI-BEHEN!"
"Husband-wife zyada bura tha!" Mishti shot back.
"Nahi! Bhai-behen zyada bura tha! Matlab... matlab main tumhara BHAI lagta hoon?!"
"Mujhe kya pata tumhe kya lagta hai! Maine toh dono hi options reject kiye the!"
"Par unhone pehle husband-wife bola toh tum itni panic ho gayi! Itna bura hai kya? Married hona? Mujhse?"
Mishti's face went red. "Main... yeh... tumse?! Please! Tumhari tarah annoying insaan ke saath kaun shaadi karega?!"
"Bohot log karenge, FYI! Main bahut eligible bachelor hoon!"
"Eligible disaster!"
"Oh, disaster? Really? Yeh disaster ne tumhari poori shopping organize ki hai! Yeh disaster ne tumhare ₹2000 bachaye hain!"
"Maine nahi maanga tha tumse help!"
"Par lete waqt koi problem nahi hui na?!"
"Maine KUCH NAHI LIYA! Tumne ZABARDASTI—"
"Yeh dekho!" Abhi gestured wildly at the cart. "Yeh sab tumhare cart mein hai! Tumhe chahiye! Admit karo!"
"Main... fine! FINE! Kuch cheezein useful hain! Satisfied?!"
"Mirchi—"
"Aur ek baat!" Mishti was on a roll now. "Tumne us uncle-aunty ke saamne 'abhi toh nahi hui hai' kya bol diya tha?! Kyun bola tumne woh?!"
Abhi's smirk returned. "Kyun? Problem kya hai?"
"Problem yeh hai ki ab unhe lag raha hai ki hum... ki hum... ki kuch ho raha hai!"
"Toh? Hone do na! Kya farak padta hai?"
"BOHOT FARAK PADTA HAI! Agar yeh baat Nimmi Maasi tak pahunchi toh—"
"Toh Maasi khush hongi," Abhi said, his grin widening. "Woh already ship karti hain humein."
Mishti's mouth fell open. "Kya?!"
"Haan! Woh roz poochti hain ki 'Mishti se baat hui?' 'Mishti kaisi hai?' 'Pihu ko mera pyaar dena'—"
"Woh Pihu ki baat karti hain! Meri nahi!"
"Dono ki." Abhi leaned against a shelf, looking entirely too pleased with himself. "Aur honestly, main bhi nahi samajhta why tum itna overreact karti ho. It's just a misunderstanding. Relax
"Tum... tum... just shut up!" was all she managed.
"Already shut hoon!"
"Good! Stay shut!"
They glared at each other for a long moment.
Then Abhi cleared his throat. "Waise... billing toh karni padegi. Unless tum yahaan rehke shopping cart ke saath shaadi karna chahti ho."
Despite everything, Mishti felt a laugh bubble up. She suppressed it viciously. "Chalo. Billing counter."
The billing took forever because of course it did. The cashier scanned each item slowly, and Mishti tried very hard not to look at Abhi, who was standing way too close to her in the queue.
Finally, mercifully, it was done.
Total: ₹3,247.
Mishti winced but pulled out her card.
"Wait." Abhi put a hand on her wrist. "Main karta hoon."
"Kya? Nahi! Yeh mera—"
"Aadha samaan maine choose kiya. Aur Pihu ke liye jo snacks hain woh mere. Toh haan."
"Abhimanyu—"
"Mishti." He said her actual name, his voice firm but gentle. "Please. Let me help. Thoda."
Bags packed, they walked out of the store together into the evening air.
Mishti's car was parked on the left. Abhi's bike was on the right.
" Theek hai toh main...I'll pay you back jab chance mile" she said.
"Mirchi." He stepped closer, and Mishti's breath caught because suddenly he was in her space, close enough that she could smell his cologne.
"Kya?" Her voice came out more breathless than she intended.
Abhi's eyes were warm, teasing, but there was something else there too, and her heart flipped. He leaned in, and Mishti's heart started hammering.
What was he doing? Why was he so close? Why wasn't she moving away?
His lips were right next to her ear now, and when he spoke, his voice was low, warm, sending shivers down her spine:
"Agar agli baar koi poochhe ki hum kya hain," he murmured, his breath tickling her ear, "main confidently bolunga ki 'abhi toh nahi, par... jaldi hi.'"
" Aur dusri baat... rahi baat payment ki... uska hissa .. Woh toh mein baad mein lelunga.!"
He pulled back just enough to wink at her shocked face, then walked away toward his bike, whistling cheerfully.
Mishti stood frozen in the parking lot, grocery bags in hand, face flaming red, heart pounding so hard she thought it might actually break out of her chest.
"Chi chi chi. Ganda dimaag. Harami." she finally yelled after him.
His laugh echoed back. "Sweet Dreams Mirchi! Bye! Pihu ko mera pyaar dena!"
He revved his bike and drove off, leaving Mishti standing there, completely flustered, absolutely mortified.
"Haaye Durga Maa," she muttered to herself, loading the bags into her car with shaking hands. "Yeh ladka mujhe maar daalega ek din."
Her phone buzzed with a text.
Abhimanyu: BTW, tumhara dupatta car door mein fas raha tha. Check karo. Don't want my future wife getting hurt. 😉
Mishti stared at the message.
Then at her dupatta, which was indeed caught in the car door.
Then she screamed, a frustrated, flustered, "WHY IS HE LIKE THIS?!" scream that made a nearby couple hurry away.
She freed her dupatta, got in the car, and sat there for a full minute, trying to get her heart rate under control.
"Pagal hai woh," she muttered, starting the car. "Out of his mind."
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