Hriday walked down the stairs casually, still thinking about work—

And froze.

"Mom?!"

Maithili opened her arms before he could say anything else.

He crossed the remaining steps in seconds and hugged her tightly.

"What a surprise!"

"I told you, Shikhar," she said proudly, "he will love it."

Shikhar stood up with a small smile as Hriday hugged him too.

"I really missed you both," Hriday admitted quietly.

For a man who liked silence and distance in Kolkata... he looked completely different right now.

Maithili cupped his face lovingly and kissed his forehead.

"Yes yes," Shikhar said while sitting on the couch, "all love for mother. What about your father?"

Hriday didn't leave Maithili's side.

He knew his father was teasing him.

"Shikhar, don't start," Maithili warned playfully.

Hriday finally sat on the couch opposite them.

"Dadaji didn't come?"

"He's on a trip," Shikhar replied. "So we thought we'd steal some time with our only son."

There was something in Shikhar's tone — subtle pride.

Maithili suddenly remembered.

"Oh! Shikhar, give him the gifts we brought from London!"

Hriday groaned dramatically.

"Mom, I'm not a kid. And I went to London six months ago."

She ignored him completely and pulled out a box.

"Open it!"

He smiled helplessly.

"Let me guess... a watch."

Maithili gasped. "How did you know?!"

"I know you. And I know Dad has good taste. So obviously he selected it."

Shikhar gave a satisfied nod.

"But I chose the colour!" Maithili protested.

Hriday opened the box.

It was elegant. Classy. Exactly his style.

"It's perfect, Mom. I'll wear it on my birthday."

"I'll gift you a suit," Shikhar added calmly.

Hriday leaned back, smiling.

For a few minutes, he wasn't the strict boss.

He wasn't the calculating businessman.

He was just... someone's son.

And then—

Maithili's eyes wandered around.

"Where is that sweet girl?"

Hriday blinked.

"Which girl?"

"The one who sent food for you on Sunday," Maithili said casually. "You mentioned her once. Gauri?"

His fingers tightened slightly on the watch box.

"Oh. She took leave today."

"For what?" Maithili asked gently.

"I don't know."

But now he wanted to.

Very badly.

Shikhar observed him quietly.

The way his son's voice shifted.

The way his jaw clenched.

He didn't say anything.

But he noticed.

At the restaurant.

"The food is really tasty! I love this dish," Maithili said happily.

"I'll tell our chef to learn it," Shikhar replied smoothly. "Anything for you, darling."

Maithili blushed slightly.

Hriday focused very seriously on his plate.

Too seriously.

"Hriday... what about Disha?" Maithili asked casually.

He looked up. "Who?"

Maithili narrowed her eyes. "The girl from the party. Sanjana's niece."

"Oh. Her." He shrugged. "What about her?"

"Did you talk to her? Did you like her?"

"No, Mom. She's not my type."

Shikhar observed quietly.

Maithili leaned forward. "Then who is your type?"

"Coo—"

Shikhar's eyes lifted. "What is 'coo', Hriday?"

He immediately straightened.

"I mean... COO. The position is important for me right now. I need to focus on that. Marriage can wait."

Maithili sighed. "You're not getting younger."

"Mom," he replied calmly, "science has progressed. Becoming a father is not the issue. Finding the right woman is. If I don't marry someone who can be my wife, my child's mother, and your daughter... everyone will suffer. I don't want that."

For a moment, Shikhar looked at him with something close to pride.

But Maithili softened.

"I just want a daughter," she said quietly.

Hriday grinned mischievously. "That, you can discuss with Dad. I'm open-minded."

Thap!

She lightly slapped his arm.

"Spoilt brat!" Shikhar muttered.

"Sorry, Mom! Sorry, Dad!" Hriday laughed.

But inside...

When she had asked his type—

His mind had flashed red.

Red saree.

Soft anklets.

Shy eyes.

He frowned slightly.

Next Morning.

Gauri entered the mansion and paused.

A man in his late fifties was exercising on the lawn.

Disciplined posture. Calm energy.

"Who is he, Mukesh Kaka?" she whispered.

"He is Hriday sir's father."

"Oh..."

So this is where he gets that sharp aura from, she thought.

She went inside and began preparing breakfast.

"Aloo sabzi, puri, dal, rice, papad," a maid informed her.

She nodded.

After everything was served, she quietly sat on the kitchen platform.

Then she heard it—

"Hriday, eat a little more."

A gentle female voice.

Curious, she stepped out slightly.

She saw only the woman's back — light pink suit, shoulder-length hair.

The woman was feeding Hriday with her own hands.

Gauri froze.

He didn't resist.

He didn't act irritated.

He looked... soft.

"Mom, I'm late. I'll eat properly at the meeting," Hriday said.

He hugged his father.

Side-hugged his mother.

Kissed her forehead.

"Bye, Dad. Bye, Mom."

He left.

Gauri quietly went back inside.

Something felt strange.

Not pain.

Not jealousy.

Just... distance.

She reminded herself—

He belongs to a world where mothers wear pink suits and feed sons on dining tables made of glass and gold.

And she...

She belongs to electricity bills and monthly calculations.

That night.

She counted her savings.

"Electricity bill... groceries... Maa's medicines..."

Her phone buzzed.

Salary credited.

She blinked.

Two percent extra.

Her brows knitted.

Then her phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Did you receive your salary?" Hriday's voice came through.

She sat up straighter.

"Yes."

Silence.

Both of them suddenly aware of each other's breathing.

"I added two percent increment," he said stiffly. "You work sincerely."

She didn't know what to say.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Another silence.

He didn't know why he called.

He just... wanted to hear her voice.

"Okay. Good night," he said quickly.

"Hmm."

He frowned slightly. "What 'hmm'? At least say good night properly."

"G-good night."

She stuttered.

He smiled unconsciously after cutting the call.

And Gauri?

She stared at her phone for a long time.

Why does he make my heart beat like this...?

And why does it scare me?