Chapter 37

The warmth of her parents' house enveloped Niharika the moment she stepped inside. The faint aroma of sandalwood incense mixed with the distinct scent of her mother's cooking, instantly grounding her in a way that no other place could. Her father sat in his usual spot, his reading glasses perched on his nose as he scanned the Marathi newspaper. Her mother bustled out of the kitchen with a plate of modaks, her face lighting up when she saw her daughter.

"Nihu, you're back," her mother said, setting the plate down on the coffee table. "But where's Mayank? Didn't he come with you?"

Niharika hesitated, tugging at the strap of her handbag. "He stayed back. His parents had some family friends over, so he needed to be there."

Her father lowered his newspaper slightly, his brow furrowing. "He should've come. It's not like we're strangers."

Her mother, always the peacemaker, nodded thoughtfully but didn't press. "Next time, make sure he comes. It's been a while since we all sat together."

"Next time, Aai," Niharika replied, her lips curving into a polite smile. "I'll make sure."

She quickly excused herself, saying she was tired, and made her way to her old bedroom. The air inside was cooler, tinged with a faint lavender scent from the potpourri her mother insisted on keeping in every room. Closing the door behind her, she leaned against it, her breath leaving her in a shaky exhale.

The evening at Mayank's parents' house replayed in her mind. The pointed glances, the sharp words about Zaina, the way those guests had spoken as though she, Niharika, was invisible. Her chest tightened at the memory, and she pressed a hand against her stomach, the fabric of her kurta soft under her fingers.

Why am I letting this get to me? she thought bitterly. But no matter how much she tried to push it away, the voices haunted her.

"She's so beautiful. Such a good match for Mayank."

The words echoed, cutting deeper than she wanted to admit. Zaina's image loomed large in her mind—confident, flawless, the kind of woman who belonged in Mayank's world. And then there was herself.

Her fingers brushed over her stomach, lingering for a moment before she shook her head. Stop it, she scolded herself silently. This isn't about that.

But wasn't it?

She changed into her nightclothes and climbed into bed, pulling the covers up to her chin. The familiar comfort of her old room should have soothed her, but instead, she lay awake, staring at the ceiling, her thoughts spiraling.

~•~

Morning arrived with the soft chirping of birds outside her window. Sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting warm golden hues across her room. Niharika forced herself out of bed, heading for the bathroom in hopes that a shower would wash away the heaviness clinging to her chest.

The hot water loosened her tense muscles, but it did little for her racing thoughts. When she stepped out, she stared at herself in the mirror, her reflection clouded by the steam.

Her hair hung damp around her shoulders, and her face looked pale, tired. She pulled on a pair of well-worn jeans and a simple T-shirt, tucking her hair into a low ponytail.

Her eyes caught the faint red streak of sindoor on her forehead. For a moment, she considered wiping it away. But then she paused. She was going back home, after all. The sindoor felt... right, even if it came with its own complicated emotions.

When she entered the apartment, the familiar clinking of utensils in the kitchen caught her attention. The rich aroma of chai wafted through the air, and her steps faltered when she saw Mayank standing by the stove, pouring tea into two cups.

"You're back," he said, his tone light. "I thought you'd like some chai."

Niharika blinked, surprised. She hadn't expected this gesture from him, and for a moment, it left her off balance. "Oh, um, thank you."

She accepted the cup, her fingers brushing against his briefly.

Mayank watched her as she took a sip, a small smile playing on her lips. She looked content on the surface, but something about her demeanor felt... off. There was a guardedness in her eyes, a wall he couldn't quite see through.

"You look nice," he said casually, breaking the silence.

Her reaction was immediate. She stiffened, her hand tightening around the cup. She noticed him looking at her—as if he was studying her. He's probably comparing me to Zaina, she thought, a bitter pang twisting in her chest.

Before she realized it, she grabbed the jacket draped over a chair and slipped it on, shielding herself.

"You're cold?" Mayank asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

She hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah. A little."

Her voice was too quiet, too uncertain, but Mayank didn't press. When she excused herself to her room and returned moments later in a sweatshirt, his confusion only grew. What's wrong with that top? She looked nice. He thought.

Later, he brought out a pizza, hoping to lighten the mood. "Here you go," he said, setting the box down on the table.

But Niharika barely touched her slice, nibbling on the crust and avoiding his gaze.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked, his tone sharper than he intended. "You love pizza. Why aren't you eating?"

"I'm not hungry," she replied with a forced smile. "I ate at Aai's before I came."

Her words didn't sit right with him. She was too polite, too distant, and it was driving him crazy.

~•~

That evening, Mayank retreated to his room, pacing as he called Arjun.

"Something's up with her," he said, frustration seeping into his voice. "She's acting so... weird. She talks to me like everything's fine, but I know it's not."

Arjun was silent for a moment before he sighed. "It's probably Zaina. She's insecure, Mayank. You can't blame her. Think about it—you and Zaina have a history, and people keep bringing it up."

Mayank pinched the bridge of his nose. "I can't erase the past, Arjun."

"No, but you can talk to her. Ask her what's going on."

"She won't tell me," Mayank admitted. "She's always been like this. Even in university, she never let anyone in. That's what Siya told me. Rahil too."

There was a pause, and then a thought struck him. "Siya. Maybe she'll know something."

"Siya?" Arjun sounded skeptical. "She might, but don't get your hopes up. Niharika's a private person. She doesn't let people see what's really going on."

After ending the call, Mayank went downstairs, finding Niharika curled up on the couch with a book. She seemed calm, engrossed in the story, but he wasn't about to let her retreat any further.

Walking over, he plucked the book from her hands.

"Hey!" she protested, reaching for it.

He held it out of reach, smirking. "I'm not giving it back until you tell me what's going on with you."

"Nothing's going on," she said firmly, her tone defensive.

"Niharika," he said, his voice softening. "I know something's wrong. Just tell me."

"I'm tired," she insisted, reaching again for the book. "From the trip to Indore, from the dinner. It's nothing."

"I'm sorry about the dinner," he said, watching her closely. "No one knows about us, so this is..."

"It's fine," she interrupted, her voice flat. "It was you...our decision to keep it a secret, so I can't say anything."

Her words stung, but he didn't let it show. Her switch from your to our didn't go unnoticed to him. Instead, he tightened his grip on the book. "If it's fine, then why are you acting like this?"

In her attempt to grab the book, she lost her balance and toppled forward, landing awkwardly on his lap. Her eyes widened in shock, her hands bracing against his chest as she looked up at him. His hands came securely around her waist. The moment stretched, their breaths mingling in the sudden proximity.

"Sorry!" she exclaimed, scrambling to get up.

His hands had instinctively steadied her, but he let go as soon as she moved. "It's okay," he said, chuckling.

She didn't look at him as she hurried to her room, leaving him sitting there, his laughter fading. He sighed, leaning back against the couch. I need to figure this out. But how?

For now, he decided to focus on his parents' anniversary party, hoping it would distract them both from the growing tension.

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