Arsh and Mira stepped into the kitchen.

“You make the chole bhature and I’ll make the sandwiches and kheer” he said, handing her the apron.

“You know how to cook?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “Of course” he replied, with just a hint of nonchalance.

As he turned towards her, he noticed her fumbling with the strings of apron, struggling to tie them behind her back.

“May I?” he asked with hesitation.

She paused, meeting his gaze for a moment, then nodded ever so slightly.

He stepped closer, his hands reaching for the strings. As he tied the knot, his warm breath brushed against her neck and a shiver ran down her spine.

Her breath faltered for a moment, not from his closeness but from something else. Fear. The faint brush of his breaths against her neck unearthed memories she had spent years trying to bury. Instinctively, she stepped back. Her breaths came quick and shallow.

“I’ll do it myself” she said, moving to the other stove to make the chole, but inside, a storm of confusion churned within her. Why had a shiver of fear ran through her when Arsh approached? He hadn’t even been that close, he didn't even touched her. He was just tying the strings of the apron… and yet, something deep inside her had recoiled.‎

Mira steadied herself with a deep breath, brushing off the moment.

Arsh frowned, he was puzzled. Why had she suddenly stepped back? There was something in her eyes, a flicker of confusion or was it something else, that he couldn’t quite read. Her lips pressed into a thin line and her fingers fidgeted slightly, as if caught in some invisible storm. He wanted to ask, but a part of him hesitated. Instead, he let it slide. “Maybe she is just nervous” He murmured to himself.

‎Without another word, the two of them turned to the kitchen counter and began preparing breakfast.

“Fuck, chole to jal gaye. Ab kya karu?” Mira muttered to herself, frustration creeping in as she stared at the charred beans. The acrid smell curled through the kitchen like a warning, making her stomach sink.

(The chole’s burnt. What should I do now?)

Arsh, catching the scent, walked over with a frown. The moment his eyes landed on the burnt chole, his jaw tightened. “What is this?” he asked, clearly not expecting such a disaster.

“Chole” Mira replied, her voice small.

“Vo to dikh raha hai” he said, squinting at the burnt pot “Par ye jale kese?”

(I can see that, but how did it burn?)

“Mujhe nahi pata yaar, ab kuch karo inka” she muttered, almost like a child confessing to breaking a vase.

(I don't know, now do something.)

“Wait a second… you know how to cook, right?” he asked, suspicion flickering in his tone.

“Well… actually, I only know how to make kheer and tea” she admitted.

“Then why didn’t you tell me this earlier?” he said, half amused, half annoyed. Arms crossed over his chest as he looked at her.

Mira didn’t say a word this time. It was her mistake, she should have told him earlier. She simply stood there, biting her lip, caught between embarrassment and frustration. Arsh let out a deep breath, his irritation easing just a little.

“Tum kheer banalo, baaki sab main kar lunga” he said at last, shaking his head as he moved towards the counter.

(You make the kheer, I’ll handle the rest.)

Mira had only made the kheer, but its warm, sweet aroma had slowly drifted through the kitchen, wrapping every corner in its gentle fragrance. It was the one thing she truly knew how to make well, and it showed.

Everyone was seated at the dining table now. The maids brought out the dishes, placing them carefully one by one, and a moment later, Mira and Arsh entered together. Arsh quietly took his seat, and Mira slid into the chair beside him. As the maids began serving the food, everyone started eating.

“Wow, Mira, these chole bhature are absolutely delicious” Abhay said, smiling warmly. Mira opened her mouth to admit, “No, actually I didn’t-” but Arsh cut her off before she could finish. “Yes, it’s really good Mira” he said smoothly, glancing around casually. Mira raised an eyebrow, puzzled, but he kept his expression unreadable, giving nothing away.

The compliments kept coming, warm and light, as everyone praised the two of them for the meal. After breakfast, the maid returned with the kheer, its sweet aroma filling the room once more. Dadu was the first to taste it. After a spoonful, he looked up with a gentle smile and called out “Mira, come here.”

Mira walked over, curiosity and a flutter of nerves mingling in her chest. Dadu handed her a small box. “This is your dadi’s blessings” he said softly. “She wanted to give these bangles to Arsh’s bride… so now, they’re yours.”

Mira hesitated for a moment, the weight of the gesture settling over her, but then she carefully took the box, feeling its warmth in her hands.

One by one, the family followed, offering gifts, affectionate smiles, and approving nods she hadn’t expected. Each gesture made her heart swell a little, the surreal warmth of belonging settling over her. Even Pratham and Samarth presented her with gifts, their familiar faces lighting up with smiles that made her feel, for a fleeting moment, truly seen and accepted.

Then Darsh piped up with his signature grin “Bhai, aap bhabhi ko kya gift dene waale ho?”

(Brother, what gift are you going to give to Sister-in-law?)

Arsh glanced at her for a moment, his expression unreadable as always, and replied “I’ll give it later.”

Darsh raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Akele mein konsa gift-”

(What gift in private-)

Before he could finish, Priya reached over and tapped the back of his head playfully. “Bohot bolta hai tu.”

(You talk too much.)

Pratham leaned in close to Darsh and muttered under his breath, “Darsh, samjha kar. Naye naye miya-biwi hain.”

(Darsh, try to understand. They’re newlyweds.)

The younger ones around the table tried to stifle their laughter, shoulders shaking with silent amusement. Soon, the room filled with warm, light laughter, spreading like sunshine through the dining area, making the moment feel relaxed and alive.

🦋

Arsh opened his laptop and immersed himself in work, not even sparing her a single glance. The entire room wrapped itself in silence.

The glow of the screen lit his face, but his eyes held no emotion, only focus, only distance. Mira quietly walked to the couch, picked up her novel and flipped it open. But her mind wasn’t in the words, it was tangled elsewhere, lost in a maze of unspoken thoughts.

They were in the same room, yet it felt as though they belonged to two entirely different worlds. No words passed between them, not even a glance.

A soft buzz broke the stillness. Mira glanced down at her phone and saw Vinisha’s name light up the screen. It was a message.

“Mira, classes will start from the day after tomorrow. Will you come to college?”

She smiled faintly, fingers hovering over the keyboard before typing back “Yeah, I’ll come.”

Almost instantly, another message followed. “Did anyone say anything to you? And jiju… he treated you well, right?”

Mira lifted her eyes toward Arsh. He hadn’t glanced her way once, fingers flying over the keyboard as though she didn’t exist in the room. She sighed quietly and typed back “I’m fine. He hasn’t really said anything so far.”

A knock at the door broke the rhythm.

“Come in” Arsh called without looking up.

Radha stepped in, her voice gentle but firm. “Arsh, take Mira to her parents’ house for the pagphera.”

He made a face, slightly annoyed. “Maa, is it really necessary?”

“You’re her husband now. If not you, then who? Take her there and bring her back tomorrow.

Mira didn’t speak. She simply sat still, the thought of returning to that house twisting something deep in her chest. She didn’t want to go back, not yet.

Finally, Arsh spoke, his tone calm, almost detached “Okay.”

‎

I was in the car with him. The entire ride passed in silence, not a word exchanged but my mind was anything but quiet. Papa's words echoed again and again ‘Don’t come back’ And truthfully, I don't want to return to that house either.

‎The car came to a slow halt in front of the Sharma house. I stepped out quietly, brushing my hands along the side of my suit, gathering the little courage I had left. Just as Arsh was about to drive away, I stopped him.

‎“I’ll come on my own tomorrow” I said firmly, my voice calm but resolute. “You don’t have to.”

‎“I’ll come.” he replied without argument, then drove off without another word.

‎I stood there for a moment, watching his car disappear down the lane. A strange hollowness settled in my chest. Taking a deep breath, I turned back and knocked on the door. After a minute, the maid opened it.

‎I didn’t want to face anyone, so I quietly made my way towards my room.

‎“You were told not to come here, weren’t you? Papa clearly said so. Then why are you here?” Nikhil’s voice echoed sharply from behind.

‎“I came for the pagphera” I said, without turning to face him. “But neither I don’t want to meet anyone nor I intend to participate in any of your rituals.”

‎With that, I walked away and shut the door of my room behind me.

‎I stayed in my room the entire day, curled up in silence. The house outside moved on without me, voices in the hallway, clinking utensils from the kitchen, the distant hum of a television. None of it mattered. I didn’t want to be part of any of it.

‎As the sky outside melted into hues of orange and red, my phone buzzed. It was Vini. She urged me to come over.

‎I got up, splashed cold water on my face, changed into something comfortable and was just about to step out of the house when my mother’s voice stopped me in my tracks.

‎“Where do you think you’re going?” she asked sharply, arms folded, eyes scanning me head to toe like I was some sort of mistake.

‎I didn’t answer. I didn’t even look her way.

‎“And what the hell are you wearing?” Nikhil’s voice followed hers, louder, crueler. “You’re a married woman now. Girls with good values don’t dress like that. You bitch.”

‎I still said nothing.

‎“If you step out of this house looking like that, I’ll break your legs. You are just like your sister. She was shameless as well.” he threatened, voice filled with venom.

‎That’s when I stopped. My feet paused mid-step. As soon as he mentioned my sister, my patience snapped. He shouldn’t have done that.

‎I turned around slowly. Both of them, were staring at me, waiting for me to shrink under their glare, waiting for me to fall back.

‎I didn’t.

‎Instead, I walked calmly to the storeroom. They didn’t move. Maybe they thought I was going in there to cry. To break. To retreat.

‎But when I returned, I was holding a hockey stick.

‎Their faces changed the moment they saw it.

‎I walked straight toward Nikhil, my grip firm, my gaze steady.  Without a word of warning, I swung.

‎The stick connected with his right leg in one clean, brutal strike.

‎He screamed. Collapsed. His body hit the floor with a thud as he clutched his leg and howled in pain.

‎“Are you out of your mind?” Maa shrieked, running toward him. “He’s your brother. What are you doing?! Just wait till your father gets home, he’ll deal with you, you bitch!”

‎Nikhil was still on the floor, groaning and gasping in pain.

‎I looked at him for a long moment, then leaned down slightly, my voice sugar-sweet.

‎“Hope you liked that, little brother,” I said, my voice low and steady. “I’m not anyone’s property, so don’t even think about bossing me around. I’ve warned you plenty of times to stay away, but apparently that tiny, useless brain of yours doesn’t register and next time you even think of speaking to me like that… maybe consider your other leg first and DON'T EVEN SAY A WORD ABOUT MY SISTER AGAIN OR I WILL DO WORSE.”

‎With that, I stood tall, slipped the hockey stick back against the wall and walked out of the house. I didn't look back.

‎I took an auto to Vini’s place and as soon as I arrived, I spotted her in the garden, sitting cross-legged on the grass with Meher playing beside her. The late evening sun cast a golden glow over the two of them, it looked like a still from a warm, forgotten memory.

‎“A-ash-i” Meher squealed in her soft, angelic voice the moment she saw me, her tiny arms flailing with excitement.

‎She still couldn’t pronounce Maasi properly, so Aashi had become her version of it. And honestly? I love it that way.

‎“Aww, my babyyyy” I cooed, scooping her into my arms. Her little hands immediately reached for my hair, tangling her fingers through the strands as she giggled.

‎“How are you?” Vini asked, pulling me into a quick, comforting side hug.

‎“I’m fine, don’t worry about me” I reassured her with a small smile.

‎The three of us headed inside, Meher still happily perched in my arms.

‎“Chachi and Chachu abhi tak nahi aaye?” I asked, looking around the house that felt more like home than my own ever did.

(Haven’t Chachi and Chachu arrived yet?)

‎“Chachi’s mom isn’t well, she’s been hospitalized, that's why they weren't able to came to your wedding also. They’ve gone to check on her and won’t be back until tomorrow evening” Vini explained, setting down Meher’s toys on the table.

‎“You’re staying here tonight. No arguments. You’re not going back to that place” she added firmly, her tone leaving no room for protest.

‎“As you command, ma’am” I replied with a grin, and we both burst out laughing.

‎“Tonight, we’re doing full-on Netflix and chill, no sad vibes allowed” she announced dramatically, tossing a cushion at me.

‎Once we got Meher to sleep, after reading her favorite bedtime story twice and singing one lullaby completely off-key, we finally settled in with bowls of chips, warm mugs of coffee and a list of shows we are going to binge.

‎We watched everything, from mindless rom-coms to murder mysteries, pausing only to gossip or argue over characters. Laughter filled the room like the soft crackle of a fireplace. It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t chaotic. It was just right.

‎By the time the clock struck four in the morning, our eyelids were heavy and we went into deep slumber.

‎We didn’t even bother turning off the TV. We just curled up on the bed with Meher in between.

‎My sleep broke to the sharp buzz of my phone vibrating against the nightstand. The sound pierced through the quiet calm of the room, dragging me out of the comfortable warmth of sleep. Groaning softly, I reached out blindly and squinted at the screen. An unknown number blinked back at me.

‎Still half-asleep, I swiped to answer, lifting the phone to my ear. “Hello?” I murmured, my voice hoarse and drowsy.

‎“Mira?” A gentle yet anxious voice came from the other end. It took me a second to recognize it, Arsh's mother. Her tone carried the kind of worry that only comes from someone who genuinely cares. “Why weren’t you picking up? Are you alright?”

‎I rubbed my eyes, sitting up slowly as guilt crept in “Yeah, I’m fine. Please don’t worry” I replied quickly, my voice a little clearer now. “I just slept really late last night and didn’t even hear the phone ring. I just woke up.”

‎I glanced at the clock beside me. It was nearly noon. No wonder she was concerned.

‎“Oh, that’s okay, beta” she said, her voice relaxing with relief. “I was just a little worried. Arsh will come to pick you up around 7 in the evening, is that okay with you?”

‎“Yeah, okay. I’ll be ready by then” I assured her softly.

‎We spoke for a few more moments, polite, simple things, before the call ended. I placed the phone down gently on the side table, the echo of her concern lingering in the air like warmth from a distant fire. As I leaned back, my gaze fell towards the other side of the bed and what I saw made my heart soften instantly.

‎Meher was fast asleep, sprawled across Vini’s chest, her little fingers clutching the fabric of her mother’s t-shirt. Even in her sleep, Vini’s hand moved rhythmically through Meher’s soft hair, gently stroking her scalp like she was still in the middle of a lullaby. There was a peace in that moment, untouched by the world outside. Just the soft breathing of a mother and her child...serene, unshaken.

‎A small smile crept onto my lips. I picked up my phone again and quietly captured a few photos, preserving this perfect scene.

‎“Haye… nazar na lage” I whispered under my breath, softly, a quiet blessing meant only for the two of them.

‎After a refreshing shower, I slipped into one of Vini’s comfortable dresses from her closet. The soft cotton felt warm against my skin. When I stepped out, I found both Vini and Meher awake. Vini gave me a sleepy smile, her hair tousled, while Meher rubbed her eyes with her tiny fists.

‎I walked over and kissed Meher gently on her cheek. “Okay, I should leave now” I said, turning to Vini. “Take care of yourself.”

‎She nodded, pulling me in for a soft  hug. “Text me when you reach, okay?” she mumbled.

‎“I will” I said and then I left her home, the only place that had felt safe in a long time.

‎🦋

‎It took me about thirty minutes to get home, but the moment I stepped through the front door, the air shifted. The warmth I had carried from Vini’s house vanished like smoke.

‎Before I could even close the door behind me, a pair of hands wrapped tightly around my throat. I gasped as my father’s face came into view, twisted in rage, his eyes bloodshot.

‎“How dare you lay a hand on my son?” he roared. “You think you can hit my son and walk in here like nothing happened?”

‎Before I could react, he yanked me by my hair, dragging me across the hallway, heading straight for the storeroom like I was some criminal needing punishment.

‎But I wasn’t that 13 year girl anymore. Not the one who cowered and cried.

‎I jerked my hair free from his grip and turned on my heels, rage surging through my veins like fire. With all the strength I had, I shoved him backward, so hard that  he nearly lost balance. He stumbled, eyes wide with disbelief.

‎“I’ve only broken your precious son’s leg for now” I said, voice low, sharp and deadly calm. “Tell him to keep his tongue in check otherwise next time, I’ll break both his arms too.”

‎He stared at me, stunned. Then his expression twisted into fury. “You bitch!” he growled and slapped me across the face with full force.

‎My head snapped slightly with the blow, but I didn’t flinch. I didn’t blink. This pain, I knew it. I had worn it like second skin.

‎I met his gaze again, deadpan. “I’m not bluffing” I said quietly“Try me if you want.”

‎Without waiting for his reply, I turned and walked away, not even caring to listen to the rest of his screaming. I climbed the stairs slowly, calmly, like nothing had happened, like I wasn’t bleeding invisibly.

‎I entered my room and shut the door softly behind me. Dropping my bag to the side, I walked over to the mirror. What I saw there wasn’t shocking, faint red marks were already forming around my neck where his fingers had dug in and a thin scratch lined my cheek from his slap. My skin felt warm and stung slightly, but it didn’t shake me. Not anymore.

‎I opened the drawer, pulled out a small bottle of concealer and gently dabbed it over the marks. It wouldn’t hide the truth, but it would make it easier to survive the rest of the day.

‎When I was done, I grabbed my phone and opened my college group chat.

‎Tomorrow marked the start of the second year.

‎Despite the chaos, the violence, and the exhaustion that clung to me like a shadow, I let out a quiet smile.

I was the topper of my previous college.

‎Because despite everything, I will achieve  my goals, I will complete my dreams and no one… no one could take that away from me.