"Auntyyy!"

A high-pitched voice rang through the living room.

"Disha, how are you?"

Maithili greeted warmly.

"I’m good! How are you and Uncle?"

"We’re doing well, beta. Come, sit."

Maithili motioned her to the couch.

Meanwhile, Hriday, just off an important call, walked into the living room—unaware of the guest.

His expression darkened the moment he saw her.

"What is this witch doing here?"

he muttered to himself.

"Mom, I’m hungry. I’ll go have lunch. Want to join me?"

he asked, completely ignoring Disha’s presence.

"No, Hriday. I already had a lot of prasad. I’m not hungry."

"Okay, Mom."

Hriday turned to leave.

"Wait!" Maithili stopped him. "Tell someone to bring prasad for Disha. And Hriday, this is Disha’s first time visiting our house. At least say hello."

Hriday looked at Disha, his expression blank.

"Hello."

"Hello, Hriday! How are you?"

she asked sweetly.

"Fine,"

he said shortly and walked off.

"Don’t mind him, beta. He must be starving. So, how are your father and bua?"

"They’re good, aunty. In fact, bua told me this morning she’s finishing her vacation and coming back soon!"

"Oh, that’s great news!"

Maithili smiled.

Down in the dining room, Hriday entered and saw Gauri arranging plates.

"I’m hungry,"

he said from behind her, making her flinch.

She turned quickly.

"O-okay, sir. I’ll serve the food."

"Hurry up."

He took his seat while Gauri moved quickly to bring the meal.

As he looked at his plate, his face soured.

"Why is this food so bland and tasteless? Where are the spices?"

"Sir, Madam said today’s food should be satvik—no onions, garlic, or strong spices—because of the puja."

Hriday eyed the plate, then glanced back at her. "I’m not eating this. It’s flavorless."

He stood up.

Gauri panicked.

"Sir, we shouldn’t waste food… but if you don’t want this, I’ve also made kheer. Maybe you can try that?"

Hriday sat back down reluctantly. He hadn't eaten since morning—just a glass of juice.

"Fine. Just bring the kheer. Nothing else."

She quickly served him the sweet dish. Hriday eyed it, then her.

She nodded nervously, silently urging him to taste.

He took a spoonful, chewing thoughtfully.

"The sugar—"

"Is it too much?"

Gauri asked, concerned.

"Yeah. But I’ll eat it. I’m too hungry. Still… it seems like you’re getting distracted lately."

Gauri looked down, guilt spreading on her face. Hriday noticed and softened his tone.

"Okay, okay. Don’t be upset. Just try to balance it better next time."

Gauri gave a faint nod, recalling how a maid had distracted her while she was making the kheer.

"I’m warning you though," Hriday added playfully, setting down the empty bowl, "if you keep feeding me such sweet food, I’ll turn diabetic—and then I will cut your salary!"

"Okay, sir. I’ll be more careful next time."

Gauri replied with a small smile.

Back in the kitchen:

"Jiya, put the kheer aside,"

Gauri instructed another maid.

"Why? Everyone liked it."

"Sir said it was too sweet. I think others won’t enjoy it either."

Jiya looked surprised.

"Oh no! But I already told Mukesh to serve it at the dining table."

"What?!"

Gauri’s eyes widened.

"Should I go stop them from eating it?"

Jiya shook her head.

"No, don’t. Shikar Sir doesn’t like interruptions during meals. He scolded a servant this morning just because the pandit was late."

"Still, I don’t think he’s bad. Maybe he was just stressed. People get irritable when things don’t go as planned—especially at this age."

Gauri said thoughtfully.

"Hmm, maybe. But still… better safe than sorry."

Later, Jiya went to help serve dinner. Gauri remained behind. Her contract only required her to cook and serve Hriday—nothing more.