Midnight Encounter

Gauri stepped into the kitchen to fetch a glass of water when one slipped from the counter and shattered on the floor, the crash piercing the quiet of midnight.

As she bent down to pick up the pieces, another hand reached out at the same time. Her eyes met Hriday’s.

"Mr. Hriday..." she murmured, startled.

"What are you doing here, Gauri? Do you need something?"

he asked gently.

"I just came for some water," she replied softly.

Hriday opened the fridge, retrieving a chilled bottle.

"No, sir. I don’t drink cold water. I catch colds easily."

"Sorry, I didn’t know that," he said, switching to room temperature water.

Gauri sipped quietly as Hriday observed her with concern.

"Can’t sleep?"

"No... I was remembering Maa,"

she replied, her voice trembling.

"May I ask you something?"

he asked, almost hesitantly.

"Yes, sir."

"First, stop calling me 'sir'."

Gauri looked up, puzzled. Hriday chuckled softly.

"I mean, you can call me Hriday. It's not working hours. I'm not your boss right now. We can be... friends."

She left the kitchen. Hriday followed.

"If you're willing to be my friend, that is."

Gauri stepped outside into the garden and sat on the dewy grass.

"Hriday, sit here," she invited.

He joined her. Hriday couldn’t help but notice how sweet his name sounded when she said it.

"You know, I’ve always been an introverted child, just like my mother. We lived in our own quiet, beautiful world. We never harmed anyone. Then why did God take her away? I feel... hollow without her."

Hriday listened intently, watching her carefully.

"When I first saw you at the restaurant, I thought you were the bravest woman I’d ever met," he admitted.

"Restaurant?" she asked, confused.

"Yes, the restaurant," he confirmed, locking eyes with her.

"But let’s leave that. Let me tell you a story. My story."

"There were four of us—my grandfather, my parents, and me. You’ve met my parents, but not Dadaji. I was the only child and was pampered beyond belief. My mother always wished for a daughter, but fate gave her me."

Hriday smiled faintly.

"But that didn’t stop her. She still did all the things a mother might do for a daughter—putting my hair into little pigtails, dressing me in pink frocks, clipping cute barrettes in my hair."

Gauri chuckled, trying to imagine it.

"You’re picturing how ridiculous I looked, aren’t you?"

"No, actually... I was thinking how adorable you must’ve been."

"Are you flattering me just to ease my heart?"

"No, Hriday. I mean it. I adore children. Every child is precious—and you must’ve been so sweet. You still are... handsome, too."

Her words escaped unintentionally. Hriday laughed as her face flushed with embarrassment.

Gauri tried to retreat, but he caught her wrist gently.

"Will you marry me, Gauri?"

She froze.

"H-Hriday... how could you ask me that?"

"I know this isn't the right time or place. But I want to marry you—not out of sympathy, but because you've become my heartbeat. I want to see your eyes every morning, taste your cooking every evening. Whatever this feeling is... the world calls it love."

He stood up, holding her hands in his.

"I’ve never been in a relationship before, never even wanted one. But you’ve changed how I see everything. Please don’t feel pressured. Take your time. I just needed to say it."

"Your hands are cold," he said, rubbing them gently.

"I... I’m sleepy," she said, pulling her hand away and walking inside without a glance back.

The Next Morning

Gauri left early, returning to her own home. Conflicted, confused, and convinced Hriday pitied her, she muttered to herself, "I don’t want to be a burden to anyone."

As she cleaned, her phone rang. It was her Uncle Subhash, calling from out of town for treatment.

"How are you, Gauri beta? Did you have breakfast?"

"No, uncle. I was just about to. What did the doctor say?"

"It’ll be a while before they can start the treatment. I have to stay here for a few months. I wish I could be there for you."

"Don’t say that, uncle. Please. I’m fine,"

she said, wiping away tears.

Meanwhile, at Hriday’s Residence

The morning sunlight filtered through gauzy curtains, casting gentle patterns on the breakfast table. Hriday glanced up from his untouched toast, scanning the room with a frown.

“Where’s Gauri?” he asked one of the maids.

“Sir,” she replied hesitantly, “she left very early. Before dawn.”

His chair scraped sharply against the floor as he stood without another word. A moment later, his car roared to life, tires skimming the narrow road toward her house.

When he arrived, a cluster of neighborhood women paused mid-whisper to cast him looks thick with judgment. Their eyes followed him like shadows as he approached the door. Just then, Gauri opened it, her expression unreadable.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice low.

“That should be my question,” he replied, stepping forward. “Why did you leave without telling me?”

Her gaze flicked nervously toward the women still lingering nearby, their mouths moving like silent vipers.

“Come inside,” she muttered, pulling him in and quickly locking the door behind them.

“You haven’t answered me,” he said, folding his arms across his chest.

“You first,” she shot back.

“Why should I?” he smirked. “Ladies first.”

She glared. “Are you mad?”

“Yes,” he said, eyes steady. “Mad about you.”

She turned away, trying—failing—to hide the flush that crept up her neck.

“I can’t stay at your place anymore,” she said after a moment. “It’s not right. I’m looking for a job. I’ll use my savings until then. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“But I do worry. I love you, Gauri. I never meant to pressure you. You’re not an obligation—you’re everything.”

She said nothing. Instead, she turned toward the kitchen and returned with a teapot, her hands trembling slightly. As she tried to pour him a cup, her fingers slipped—the tea spilled, splashing across his forearm and seeping into his shirt.

“Oh my God! Hriday!” she gasped, rushing toward him. Panic overtook her as she fumbled to unbutton his shirt, revealing reddening skin beneath.

“I’m so sorry!” she said breathlessly, dabbing at the burn with shaking hands.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, his voice gentle despite the sting.

She retrieved a small tin of ointment from the cupboard and began applying it with care, her expression tight with guilt.

“Let’s go to the doctor,” she insisted.

“I’m fine.”

“No,” she said firmly. “It’ll scar if we don’t go.”

Their eyes locked—hers pleading, his softening—and after a moment, he gave a slow, reluctant nod.

After the Doctor's Visit

The sun had barely dipped below the horizon when the whispers began—sharp, hissing murmurs curling through the alleys like smoke.

Outside Gauri’s modest home, a knot of neighborhood women gathered, their voices low but laced with venom.

“Who will take responsibility for this girl now?” one sneered, her tone dripping with mock concern. “Maybe she’s already found... alternative arrangements.”

Laughter followed—cruel, brittle, unkind.

“She brings men into her house,” another added, her eyes narrowed with suspicion. “And for what? Decency? Hardly.”

Gauri stood in the doorway, pale and trembling, her fists clenched at her sides. “You’ve known me since I was a child,” she cried, her voice cracking. “How can you think such things of me?”

There was a pause, a dangerous silence—and then a sharp crack rang out as a hand struck her cheek.

She staggered back, stunned, the sting blooming across her face.

A man from the crowd stepped forward, his voice rising above the din. “We won’t allow her to stay here. Not in this neighborhood. Not after this.”

The others murmured in agreement, their judgment absolute, their eyes cold.

Gauri stood alone, tears slipping silently down her face, the weight of their accusations pressing heavily on her shoulders.

When Hriday returned to hand Gauri the bag she had forgotten, he was met not with gratitude, but chaos.

"Stop!" he cried, pushing through the small crowd that had gathered. He rushed to her side, his voice trembling with urgency. "Are you alright?"

The crowd sneered.

"Why is he touching her in public?"

"Disgraceful!"

Hriday turned to her, his eyes searching hers. “Let’s go inside,” he urged softly, shielding her with his presence.

“No,” she whispered, her voice tight with fear. “If we move now, they’ll only talk more.”

“Then come with me—to my house. If they believe they can shame you, let them watch as I prove them wrong.”

A voice from the crowd challenged him. “What right do you have to take her?”

Another jeered, “What is she to you?”

Hriday stood tall, defiant. His voice rang out clear and unwavering. “She is mine. From this moment onward, she is my wife.”

Without hesitation, he strode toward the modest temple that stood silently nearby. He dipped his fingers into the small brass container of vermillion resting beneath the deity’s gaze. Returning to her, he gently parted her hair and placed the sacred red powder at the parting of her scalp.

A collective gasp surged from the onlookers like a wave crashing on stone.

Gauri swayed, overcome by emotion. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed into Hriday’s arms, unconscious.

Later... At the Hotel

Hriday found her in a hotel he booked for her safety.

She cried. "I didn’t want this... You deserve someone who truly loves you. I’m just..."

"You’re not a burden. You were your mother’s princess... now you’re my life partner. I may not know how to comfort you perfectly, but I will always be by your side—as your friend, your protector, and your husband."