Even the rustling behind the curtain stilled.
He reached for her left hand, his fingers warm against her skin. Gently, deliberately, he began to unwind the thread,wrapping.
Once, a firm loop around her ring finger. Twice, a softer coil.
A third time, the gold thread catching the candlelight, shimmering against her skin.
> **Arnav (his voice low softly, meant only for her):**
> *"No diamonds, Khushi. Just thread. Ordinary, essential, strong."*
He paused, his thumb brushing over the wrapped gold. *"Because that's how you slipped into my life… quietly. Unexpectedly.
Like a loose end unraveling from a tapestry I thought was complete, but was actually just… frayed."* He looked up, his eyes locking onto hers, the depth of his feeling laid bare.
*"You didn't just mend me, Khushi. You became the weave. And now… I don't know how to be stitched together without your hand guiding the needle."*
Behind the curtain, Anjali sniffled.
Buaji whispered, "Ramji! Dil chhoo gaya!"
Khushi's breath hitched. A single tear escaped, her eyes, her voice thick and trembling.
> **Khushi (swiping at the tear):**
> *"So… So this is the legendary Arnav Singh Raizada proposal?
Sewing metaphors and… and no plate of hot jalebis for support?
Shocking cost-cutting, Mr. Raizada."*
**Nani**, eavesdropping beside Buaji *"Romance ki bhi koi keemat hoti hai, bitiya,"* she murmured.
Arnav didn't rise to the bait.
He pulled a chain from his pocket. A miniature silver needle pendant hung from it.
>
> Arnav (fastening it around her neck):
"You're the thimble, Khushi. My protector. I'll be the needle—pushing us through life. Through every thick patch. But only with you guiding me."
> Khushi (softly):
"Thread by thread..."
> Arnav:
"Forever. Together."
He stayed kneeling, looking up at her, the vulnerability and unwavering love in his eyes stealing the breath from her lungs all over again.
> **Arnav **
> *"Khushi Kumari Gupta… My chaos, my calm, my most unexpected, perfect stitch… Will you build a forever with me?
One loop
one knot
one utterly ridiculous
beautiful fight at a time?"*
Silence.
The hidden family seemed to have collectively stopped breathing.
Khushi stared at him, at the man who had stormed into her life like a hurricane.
And somehow become her safe harbor, her mirror, her reason. Tears welled, overflowing, tracing paths through her stunned smile.
All that remained was the overwhelming, undeniable truth resonating in every fiber of her being.
She didn't speak.
She surged up from the stool—
—and launched herself at him with a force that sent them both tumbling backwards into the nest of plush velvet pillows .
A startled *"Oof!"* escaped Arnav, instantly swallowed by her fierce embrace and a burst of incredulous, tearful laughter.
> **Khushi (muffled against his shoulder):**>
*"YES! You impossible, infuriating, stubborn *rakshas*!
You thread-wielding, melodramatic, impossible businessman!
YES! A thousand times yes! I'll stitch the sky to the moon, I'll darn the holes in the universe.
I'll… I'll even learn to make *perfect* black coffee if that's what you need! Just… just don't you *dare* leave me dangling like a loose thread ever again!"*
> **Arnav (laugh ):**
> *"Deal. But the blackcoffee? Non-negotiable. Every Sunday. With extra cup."*
Their laughter mingled – hers breathless and joyful, his low and relieved.
---
A thunderous sneeze shattered the moment. *"HAA-CHOOOO!"*
Followed immediately by a loud *THUMP!* .
Khushi froze mid-laugh, pulling back slightly from Arnav's shoulder.
Arnav's head snapped towards the disturbance, his eyes narrowing into slits of suspicion.
> **Khushi (whispering, eyes wide with horror):**
> *"Please… please tell me that was just a very enthusiastic, possibly romantic, pigeon."*
> **Arnav (dryly, already knowing the truth):*
> *"Unless pigeons have developed a taste for silk brocade and loud commentary.
**Buaji** burst forth, stumbling slightly, a large box of motichoor laddoos.
> **Buaji (wailing):**
> *"Mera bacchha!
Mera Khushi ka pyaar!
Arnav bitwa!
Main toh ro dungi, ro dungi!
*That*… that courier boy just became dulha material! More material than all the silk in Chandni Chowk!"*
Behind her, Garima,and Shashi Gupta's red-rimmed eyes but shining with pure joy.
Garima reached out, touching Khushi's cheek tenderly.
> Garima ( emotion):
> "He didn't need diamonds, beta. He gave you the whole universe… spun into that single golden thread. My heart is full."
Payal beaming, peeked around her parents, nudging Akash .
> Payal (whispering):
> "Think we'll get actual rings, or should I start collecting interesting buttons?
> Akash (grinning):
> "I'm leaning towards macrame. Very bohemian. Or maybe… matching tape measures?
Lavanya stepped out next, leaning against the doorframe.
Lavanya:
> *"Okay. That was… significantly better than the finale of the K-drama I was binge-watching. Netflix owes me a refund."*
Anjali practically danced out, clapping her hands with unrestrained glee, heading straight for Arnav and Khushi.
> Anjali
> Chhote! You rat! You didn't even give me a hint!
Khushi, darling, look at him!
All romantic and poetic! Who is this man and what has you done with my grumpy brother?"*
Nani look in the scene – her grandson holding the woman who had changed his world, surrounded by their noisy, loving family.
> Nani (softly):
> "See, bitiya? Pyaar chhupaye nahi chupta. Love cannot be hidden. It always finds its way into the light, stitch by beautiful stitch."*
> Mami "Arre! Hum sabko invite bhi nahin diya?!
What kind of proposal is this—without Manorama's live commentary?
Kya budget proposal hai yeh, Arnav bitwa?!"*
HP appeared at the top of the stairs, slightly out of breath, holding a lopsided cake covered in thick, orange icing.
>Hp"I brought cake! Gajar ka halwa flavour! Double congratulations? Did I miss the main event? Was there confetti?"*
Khushi groaned, burying her flaming face back into Arnav's chest, the cool silver of the needle pendant pressing against her skin. The sheer, overwhelming chaos of her family was a familiar tide.
> Khushi (muffled ):
> "I officially disown them all. Every single one. Starting with Buaji and her laddoo commentary."
> **Arnav (laugh):**
> *"Too late, Jhansi ki Rani. They're your stitches now. And mine. All part of the… tapestry."*
---
The rooftop dissolved into beautiful, noisy chaos. The family swarmed them – a wave of blessings, laughter, and affectionate scolding. **Garima** hugged Khushi fiercely, then cupped Arnav's face, her eyes shimmering.
> **Garima:**
> *"Beta, you stitched his broken heart. Now go, stitch your lives together. Make it strong. Make it beautiful."*
**Shashi Gupta**, usually so mild, clapped Arnav firmly on the shoulder, his gaze serious but warm.
> **Shashi:**
> *"You take care of her, son. Or you'll answer to me. And my *heaviest* spool."*
**Anjali** fussed with the needle pendant around Khushi's neck, aligning it perfectly beside her thimble.
> **Anjali (softly):**
> *"See? Perfect match. Just like you two."*
**Buaji**, shoved a laddoo towards Khushi's mouth.
*"Khushiyon ka mahaul hai! Khao, baccha, khao!
Strength for the stitching!"*
**Nani** gently tied a slender red mauli thread around both Khushi and Arnav's right wrists, .
**Mami** was already debating suitable wedding dates and .
**HP**, who was trying to cut his halwa cake with a spool of thread.
**Payal** and **Akash** shared a sweet, quiet look, fingers intertwined. Even
**Lavanya** offered a sincere, "Congrats. Don't screw it up."
And in the center of this whirlwind of love and laughter, under the canopy of stars and fairy lights, stood Arnav and Khushi.
Her bare feet were dusted with marigold pollen.
His white kurta was now slightly rumpled.
The golden thread still gleamed, a simple, profound band around her finger. Her thimble glinted dully on her thumb. His needle pendant rested against her heart, cool and sure.
Their hands found each other, fingers lacing together instinctively, a silent anchor amidst the joyful storm.
The sewing table stood nearby, a silent witness now covered in scattered petals and forgotten laddoo crumbs.
The threads spilling from it seemed to reach out, tangling metaphorically with the red threads on their wrists, the golden promise on her finger, the silver symbols around her neck.
---
> And there, amidst laughter, marigolds, and motichoor laddoos, with fairy lights above and chaos all around, two souls stood sewn into one story.
No grand orchestra played. No fireworks burst.
Just two hands held tight, a golden thread wound around a promise, and a whisper of "forever" carried gently into the night.
The sewing table watched in silence.
Old, chipped, imperfect—
Just like them.
Sturdy. Beloved. Built to last.
They weren't perfect people.
But together, they were perfect stitches in progress.
And the tapestry?
Oh, it was just beginning.
Because real love isn't sewn in a single night—
It's pieced thread by thread, patch by patch.
Through storms, through silence, through second cups of black coffee and leftover laddoos.
They had the thread.
They had each other.
Now, they just had to keep stitching.
💫 The End… or maybe, just the beginning. 💫