CHHAV'S POV
"Welcome home, Miss Rosy."
My heart leaped into my throat as I spun around and saw Drishye standing behind me with a gentle smile spread on his face. He was holding a bowl in his hands. The soft glow of the diyas twinkled his grey eyes like stars on a winter night by the burning firewoods.
Noticing my alarmed condition, his eyes softened and his smile faltered. In a concern- filled voice, he asked.
"Ma'am, are you okay?"
"Yeah yeah..."
I exhaled shakily as my hands instinctively travelled to my chest, pressing it down in an attempt to calm the eerie heartbeats.
"I was trying to welcome you, ma'am..."
He said with a tinge of worry in his voice.
"Yeah yeah...I understood."
I replied waving off my hand dismissively, though the shock that jolted through me a few seconds ago lingered.
As the adrenaline coursing through my veins began to settle, I managed a weak smile.
Drishye stepped closer, leaving only a thin space between us and in a deep, serious tone, he whispered.
"I made besan ka halwa, ma'am...Do you still love it?"
His words struck me like a current, rooting me to the spot sending chilled shivers through my veins all the way to my scalp, pulling memories from the depths of my mind.
Those days...back in college...him and I...
I watched the twinkle in his eyes, almost as if I could witness a reflection of our past selves in them for a fleeting second.
The time froze around us and I didn't want to look away from his eyes. It felt as though those pair of deep husky eyes wanted to express more than anything Drishye had to say in the present. They carried everything- past, present, future. I didn't want to break free of the spell they're casting on me. The spell made me want to unblur the blurred emotions inside me, to uncover those hidden feelings and desires I never knew I harbored. It was startling, raw and overwhelming. But what caught me off guard even more was that he wasn't trying to break the moment either. His gaze mirrored the intensity of mine, pulling me deeper into an abyss I wasn't sure I wanted to escape.
I noticed my lips had gone dry, the air between us charged with something very sinister and forbidden.
We were so close, less than an inch apart. If either of us leaned forward, even just slightly, we'd close the gap that had always been there with a sinful kiss. The only thing separating us was the bowl of halwa between his hands.
Reality crept in gnawing at me like a mockery of my state. I forced myself to pull away from the trance, blinking away a single drop of tear from my left eye.
"Do you want to talk about your husband?"
He asked nonchalantly, walking away towards the teak table to place the dish at its centre. As if the air between us didn't stir into a silent turbulence just a moment ago.
I watched his back, the muscles tensing subtly under his shirt as he went on to arrange the plates.
He didn't question the tear that had traced down my cheek or acknowledge the fired moment we'd just shared. Heat was creeping up my neck, my ears burnt as if I'd been caught in a wildfire.
I didn't reply. Neither did he press. He just kept arranging the table. The silence was too uncomfortable to bear. Something about it felt very different. The adrenaline had again kicked in well inside me, heightening every sense of mine. And surprisingly, I craved it. It was exhilarating, like standing at the edge of something vast and unknown, daring myself to fall. I wanted to be in that state. The tension didn't calm my nerves and for reasons I couldn't explain, I welcomed it.
His unbothered attitude only stoked the rush within me encouraging it to get more heavier than each passing time.
Suddenly I felt Aahana's presence. My eyes darted to the staircase, and there she was, making her way down. She reached the bottom and stood quietly behind me.
I glanced down at her. She was tracing circles on the fabric of my salwar. It wasn't like her at all. She's a very vibrant kid, chatty and full of life. But now, she seemed subdued. I can see it in her eyes. She could sense that things are off...
Poor child...your mother failed to provide you a healthy environment.
"Hana, come. Dinner is ready!"
Drishye's cheer made a subtle shift in the air that drew me back to the present. I turned to see him waving at her cutely, inviting her to the table.
Clutching onto her small, soft palm, I led her to the dining area and helped her settle into one of the cozy, cushioned wooden chairs.
The space was beautiful, illuminated by soft, lantern-like yellow lights hanging above the table and accented by climbing vines decorating the railings under the glass ceiling.
"Try this halwa, Hana. This is your mom's favourite."
Drishye said, placing a generous spoonful on Aahana's plate.
She stared at her plate, puzzled before looking up at me with her brows furrowed. The rich smell of ghee had diffused in the air filling the room with a much needed warmth in the chilly and rainy weather of the outskirts of Dehradun.
"Besan ka halwa is your favourite, mumma?"
Surprise was etched on her face.
I nodded while Drishye watched the exchange between us keenly while serving me a bowl of the same.
Her eyebrows knitted further.
"But isn't kheer your favourite?"
"No, baccha. Its your dad's favourite."
I replied quietly.
It struck me then, how easily women lose themselves. Our likes, our wants- drowned in the pursuit of being the ideal daughter-in-law, mother and a good wife. I couldn't remember the last time I'd thought of my own preferences, let alone indulged in them.
I myself didn't remember how crazy I used to go over besan ka halwa. My god!
"Your mumma also likes to have dessert first, Hana. Before any main course. Did you know that?"
Drishye added. My heart sank and I don't now why...
She shook her head in a 'no.'
"Ohh...I never knew."
She whispered in an almost inaudible voice.
"Or maybe you never noticed."
Drishye said, a knowing look passing over his face as he moved on to serve the rest of the dishes.
I watched him, a wave of bittersweet recognition washing over me. This was not the same nineteen-years old boy from the past. Time had transformed him into someone unrecognizable to anyone who hadn't known him then. It was as if I was looking at a stranger with the soul of someone I once knew.
We quietly started dinner as Drishye made a noticeable effort to engage Aahana in conversation. He asked her friendly questions, trying to ease the silence while she responded with reserved nods and one-word answers. She had her guard up and it was another painful reminder of how different things had become for her, for us.
Every now and then, Drishye'd steal a glance at me and my heart would start leaping wildly, like a teen in love.
Teen in love...
The thought echoed through me.
Yes...I'm feeling things I shouldn't feel...How could I feel this way now, at this age? When I was married, a mother...
Married a bastard? My conscience mocked at me.
I looked down at my plate. All this time, I was idly tracing patterns on my plate while their voices mingled with the clinking of cutlery and the soft hum of the night.
But all of it was strangely comforting.
It was unreal how comfort and tension could coexist so seamlessly.
But I couldn't deny feeling something new, dangerous and undeniably real.
My hands advanced to the spoon resting on the bowl of the halwa. I scooped up a small portion and looked at the golden pudding adorned with dried nuts- just the way I used to love it. And, on top of that, he remembered it all.
A pang of guilt surged through me like a wave crashing mercilessly against the shore.
Bringing the spoon to my lips, I parted them and let the warm, fragrant halwa melt on my tongue. I closed my eyes briefly, savoring the taste, letting it linger, almost afraid to open them and face the reality that stood before me. But it was difficult to gulp. As if I had to shove it down a chest full of guilt, forcefully.
Suintin my eyes, I chugged it down. When I finally opened my eyes, I found Drishye watching me intently. I forced a small smile, unsure if it was to reassure him or myself.
What broke my heart was that he didn't reciprocate the smile. He simply looked away, shifting his attention back to Aahana.
Eventually dinner concluded quietly. Aahana went away to our room wishing us good night. I stood up to help.
"You don't have to do it."
Ignoring his quiet insistence I carried the dishes to the sink. Yet, when I tried to wash the dishes, he drew the line by snatching the scrub form my hands, stubbornly taking over.
"You're not this stubborn earlier, were you?"
I teased, leaning against the cool surface of the kitchen counter as I watched him. The steam from the warm water rose between us, blurring his silhouette for a moment.
"I was a 'child' then, wasn't I?"
He paused, glancing at me sideways, replied devoid of any humour.
I was dumbfounded.
The room seemed to chill despite the warmth of the running water.
Memories from the past resurfaced once again, creeping their way into my mind erupting goosebumps on the surface of my scalp.
I kept staring at his face to find any kind of pain or discomfort but all I got was an expressionless, stoic face.
I was suddenly desperate to know what was in his mind even though a part of me knew he was thinking the same as I was thinking.
"Drishye..."
His name slipped from my lips before I could stop it as if they had a mind of their own.
He continued scrubbing the last of the dishes, rinsing them under the hot stream that clouded the air with steam.
The heat clung to my skin, forming beads of sweat on my forehead but my feet felt cold from the conflicting emotional turmoil churning inside me.
A moment passed, tense and heavy. Another passed, filled only by the rush of water and the metallic clatter of cutlery. My incomplete response was still hanging in the air.
Finally, he broke the silence, drying his hands with a towel hanging by the sink, he asked with his unreadable face.
"Want to have some hot tea?"
I simply nodded and watched him move to the stove.
Within minutes, he placed a steaming tray on the small, carved wooden maze in front of the couch beneath the skylight.
I sank into the couch, cradling the warm cup of tea between my hands. The steam rose, carrying an exquisite, calming aroma that filled the space around us. I looked up at the open sky through the skylight, the stars glinting in the quiet night. It felt to serene yet so agonizing.
"You want to talk, now?"
His voice brought my attention back to him. His gaze held steady as he sipped his tea with his elbows resting on his knees.
I hesitated, the words catching in my throat, but then they slipped out, raw and painful.
"My husband cheated on me."
"Okay."
His response was calm, almost too calm, as if preparing himself to absorb whatever I might say.
"And...now, now he's planning to kill me."
"Why?"
"He wants the property papers."
"Your property papers?"
I shook my head and replied.
"My father's property papers."
He looked at me intently.
"Which means your property papers."
I swallowed hard and nodded.
"What'll you do now?"
He asked continuing his calm demeanor.
"I don't know...I...I don't have any clue..."
I admitted in a bare whisper.
He tilted his head and with a smirk, he taunted me.
"Why? An amazing mathematician like you doesn't have any clue?"
"That was past, Drishye...before the marriage..."
"You're happy about the marriage, weren't you?"
I replied with silence.
My hands travelled to my scalp, clutching onto a handful of my hair, trying to pull out the tension through them. But it was useless. The ache in my chest only grew heavier with each passing time.
"Will you hear me out, this time?"
I looked up, meeting his gaze.
I couln't muster a verbal response. As if sensing the eager painted on my face, he leaned forward, digging his elbows more into the fabric of his pants.
"Stay here until you're able to secure your own safety. Enroll Aahana in a school I know- she'll be safe there. I'll help you get a position at the local university." His gaze held mine, steady and unwavering. "And, divorce your husband."
The finality in his words echoed in the silence, like a passed verdict.
"But...he has the property papers..."
My words tumbled out as I processed everything he'd just said.
"You can get them back."
He replied without missing a beat.
"He'll not give them back. I...I just know..."
A helplessness crept into my voice but his gaze remained fixed.
"Then learn to snatch it, Miss Rosy."
His words cut through my hesitation like a blade. Something inside me ignited yet my confident lagged behind. I swallowed hard.
I mean...he already planned to kill me and how...how do I snatch it?
"Drishye, he planned to murder me...do you understand...I don't want to go back t-"
"Who asked you to go back, Miss Rosy? Use that witty brain of yours. The one who almost slapped the department HOD for making false accusations."
I looked at him, flabbergasted. He remembered it all. It only added to the awkwardness that swirled between us. He hadn't forgotten a thing, and perhaps, he hadn't moved on from any of it either.
"But..."
"Enough discussion, now. You should get some rest. You've been through a lot today-" He paused as if he'd said something wrong. "I suppose you had to run around a lot today...we can talk about it in the morning, over breakfast. Okay?"
"Um...okay..."
"Don't worry, Miss Rosy. You'll be fine."
"You still call me Miss Rosy..."
I murmured.
"I hold you in the same place, Miss...'Rosy'."
He replied, lingering on the 'rosy' making me feel spellbound yet again.
He picked up the tray with our empty cups and took it to the kitchen. I stayed under the glass ceiling, admiring the peaceful beauty of his home.
"Your house is beautiful, Drishye."
"All yours, madam."
He replied smoothly.
I chuckled softly, but his words felt like they held a hidden meaning. I chose not to dwell on it, instead offering him a quiet 'Good night' before heading upstairs to join my daughter in bed.
DRISHYE'S POV
I watched her retreating figure disappear up the stairs.She knew, deep down, just as I did.
How long will you keep me away from you, Rose? How long will you keep denying your feelings, Rose?
I pulled out my phone and dialed the number. The call connected on the second ring.
"Hello, sir."
The low, familiar voice came from the other end.
"Got the papers?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. Now, move to the next step."
"On it, sir."
I ended the call and leaned against the counter, letting out a deep breath, feeling a familiar thrill pulse through me.
I've waited for this moment, Miss Rosy, for ten years...
You're so innocent, my baby Rose.
What'll you do when you learn the truth?
Well, the truth is- NONE. OF. IT. IS. TRUE.
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||SPOILER||
I was walking on the wet grass. Dehradun has a lovely weather. It feels so much at home. I kept advancing to the next alley, but my feet halted as my eyes registered the scene in front of me.
It was as if my nightmares were coming true...
Widespread was a huge garden of only and only blue flowers.
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