They finished breakfast and were now talking. Siddharth was sharing stories about Sagun, and Drishti listened attentively, as if it were her favorite subject. Advait’s gaze kept flickering over to her face. Each time Siddharth said something joyful, Drishti smiled; when he got dramatic, she mirrored his expression, fully engrossed in the conversation. Suddenly, Siddharth’s phone rang, and their conversation halted. Drishti, now quiet, glanced up—and met her husband’s gaze, his entire focus resting on her.
"Has he always been like this, or am I just starting to notice him?" she wondered. She gave him a soft smile, and his smile in return grew warmer.
“Yes, baby I was just talking about you!” Siddharth’s voice broke their gaze, his words carrying a teasing undertone as he left the room, shutting the door behind him.
Advait’s eyes flicked toward the door, muttering, “Cheesy, crazy guy.”
When he looked back at Drishti, his expression softened as he saw her glaring at him, pretending to be offended.
“Why did you call him cheesy?” she asked, slightly amused.
“Then what should I call him?” he countered.
“You call me by my name every time, ‘Drishti, Drishti.’ And here he is, saying things like ‘baby’ and ‘babe,’ and you find that cheesy?”
Advait moved closer, his eyes glinting with challenge. “So, you want me to call you ‘baby’ or ‘babe,’ is that it?”
“Please,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Just call me anything decently for once; that’s enough for me.”
“Oh, so when I say it sweetly, there’s a problem. When I don’t say anything, there’s a problem. What exactly do you want me to do?” he teased.
“Take me home,” she replied, trying to keep her tone serious, but a smile danced on her lips.
He smirked. “Oh, sure, we’ll go home. But for now, just stay here with me a little while.”
Drishti’s lips formed a cute pout, an expression that made Advait’s heart soften. But as he looked at her, a pang of sadness crept into his gaze. He couldn’t shake the feeling that her attachment to his family ran deeper than her bond with him—at least for now. Since she’d come into his life, his mother had been her constant support; his brother never missed a chance to make her smile; his sister shared everything with her; and even his aunt loved to crack jokes to bring her joy. To Drishti, they were more than just his family; they had become her family too, filling the void that had once felt insurmountable.
As he thought about the future, the idea of leaving home crossed his mind. He’d considered it more than once, hoping he could convince her if it ever came to that. But with each moment he saw her immerse herself in his family, he feared that she might never be ready for such a choice—that leaving his family might mean tearing her away from the people she had come to love just as deeply as he did.
Drishti called his name twice, but he was lost in thought. Only when she shook his shoulder did he snap out of it, looking at her with a start. “What happened?”
“Where did you get lost?” she asked gently.
“Want the truth?” he replied, his tone serious as he held her hands. She nodded, searching his eyes.
With a slight tremor in his voice, he asked, “If I... if I left the house, would you come with me?”
A flicker of hope and the weight of sadness intertwined in his gaze. Drishti studied his face, trying to gauge if he was serious. His expression was earnest, each word revealing a hidden vulnerability. She slowly pulled her hands back, her response clear without needing to say a word.
Though she understood the seriousness of his question, she tried to brush it off, laughing softly to lighten the mood. “You don’t know how to joke properly. Don’t try such frightening ones, alright?”
“Drishti, I…” He started to say, but before he could finish, she stood up, stepping back. She avoided his touch as he reached for her, her heart aching even at the thought of leaving them, who were with her every moment since she got in that home, behind.
“Dri…” He got up as well, noticing the tears brimming in her eyes. Closing the gap between them, he wrapped his arms around her, running a soothing hand over her hair. “It was a joke, alright? Why are you crying?” he murmured with a strained smile.
She pressed her hands against his chest, trying to push him back, loosening his embrace. Once free, she looked up at him, her eyes accusing yet tender. “I told you, you’re terrible at joking. So why did you even try?” She sighed, and he found a bit of relief in her words, hoping she’d believe it was all just in jest.
With a gentle touch, he cupped her face, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
Brushing his fingers over her cheek, he said, “Go wash your face, and we’ll head home, okay?” She managed a small smile, her heart calming at his words.
…..
As they exited their room, ready to check out from the hotel, Drishti and Advait noticed an unusual number of guards and heightened security. Walking into the lobby, they stopped in their tracks when Siddharth approached them with a grin.
Advait looked around, curious. “Why is there extra protection here? There wasn’t this much when we arrived.”
Siddharth chuckled, shrugging playfully. “Well, that’s because I didn’t know my dear Bhabhi was coming.”
Drishti’s eyes widened, and a smile tugged at her lips. Amused, Advait slipped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close. "Hmm, so you’re doing this for ratings, huh?” he teased. “Well, my wife won’t be giving your hotel any reviews.”
With mock drama, Siddharth placed a hand over his heart, pretending to be hurt. “Ouch! But I arranged all this for my bhabhi because she deserves it!”
Advait smirked. “I know exactly what my wife deserves. Why don’t you focus on Sagun and tell her not to call me next time when she’s drunk?”
Siddharth laughed, catching the underlying message in Advait’s tone. “Ah, so ‘baby’ has left her mark on you, huh?”
Advait’s gaze turned sharp, his words laced with an edge. “Yes, thanks to your ‘baby,’ I’ve had more than a few interesting encounters.” Drishti glanced at him, reading between the lines and catching his subtle frustration.
“No, no… Thank you for the cozy stay and the company. Do come visit us sometime,” Drishti replied politely, dipping her head.
Siddharth leaned in for a goodbye hug with Advait, then turned to Drishti as if he might hug her as well. But Advait’s voice cut through sharply, “What is this, foreign customs? She’s your bhabhi—touch her feet instead.”
Siddharth gave a dramatic, fake smile, glancing at Drishti, who shook her head slightly, amused by the exchange. But, with a chuckle, Siddharth bent and touched her feet, earning a smug smile from Advait.
As they turned to leave, Advait gently took Drishti’s hand, leading her toward the exit. They walked out together, a quiet satisfaction shared between them.
…………………………………
It was dinnertime, and after arriving home that evening, Drishti had spent her time with Anjali, feeling the warmth of her mother-in-law’s presence. She’d then chatted with Vihaan and Amaira, but something felt different. Their usual spark seemed dimmed, and a hint of unease shadowed their faces. Concerned, Drishti asked Vihaan about it, but he brushed it off with a laugh, saying, “You just got back from spending days at your friend’s house—you’re imagining us less funny than we are.” Although unconvinced, she decided to let it go for the time being.
At dinner, everyone was present—except for Advait. And everyone on the home is familiar with why Advait is not here, so no one bothered to ask. The tension between father and son ran deep, and Advait avoided any situation that might bring them face-to-face. Although he wanted Drishti to avoid Tej as well, he refrained from voicing it too strongly. He knew that outright telling her not to join dinner might stir unnecessary conflict. They had just begun to connect; he had confessed his feelings, and the last thing he wanted was to risk another misunderstanding.
After everyone had finished their meal and retreated to their rooms, Drishti lingered in the kitchen tidying up. Anjali entered quietly, giving her a soft smile. “Drishti, when you head to your room, take Advait’s dinner with you. And don’t forget to eat yourself; I noticed you haven’t had anything yet.”
Drishti nodded, washing her hands quickly before moving closer to Anjali. “Ma, is something wrong?” she asked, her voice laced with concern.
Anjali’s smile didn’t waver, though Drishti could sense an underlying heaviness. “Nothing at all, dear,” she replied, patting Drishti’s shoulder gently, her eyes warm with reassurance. She gave her an encouraging nod and left the kitchen.
Drishti prepared two plates, one for herself and one for Advait, and carried them upstairs. When she reached their room, she noticed the door was closed. With both hands full, she nudged the door open with her foot, managing to get inside, where she found Advait looking her way with a faint smile.
Advait sat on the sofa, his laptop resting on the table. Amused, he watched her struggle to balance the plates and maneuver through the door. As she finally entered, her eyes met his smile, and she scrunched her nose in playful annoyance before heading to the table.
“Move your laptop; I need to set the plates down,” she said, a hint of irritation in her tone. He quickly lifted his laptop, giving her space. She placed the plates down with a huff, then glanced around the room, realizing the water jug was empty.
Her eyes narrowed in mild frustration as she looked at him, but he only raised an eyebrow, amused by her unspoken annoyance. Without a word, she grabbed the empty jug, turned on her heel, and left the room, shutting the door with a loud thud behind her.
Advait blinked, momentarily caught off guard by her reaction, staring at the door and wondering what had just happened.
Advait sat there, still processing what had just happened. He chuckled to himself, realizing he might have unknowingly annoyed her by not being more helpful when she entered with the plates. She hadn’t said much, but her expression had spoken volumes.
Before Drishti returned, he decided to close his laptop, sensing that her frustration might only grow if she came back to find him still engrossed in his work. He placed the laptop aside carefully, a little wary of her reaction after witnessing her subtle but fiery annoyance.
“Better safe than sorry,” he muttered to himself, preparing to welcome her back with his full attention.
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