Gauri stood in the doorway, her voice uncertain.
"Aunty, you were calling me?"
Maithili, seated on the couch with a magazine, glanced up and smiled.
"Yes, come inside, beta."
Her heart raced as Gauri stepped into the room, her first time here—her new in-laws' space. She hesitated, her eyes quickly scanning the room for Hriday, but there was no sign of him.
"Come here, beta. Sit with me,"
Maithili gestured toward the sofa, motioning for Gauri to join her.
Gauri obeyed, her mind still on Hriday, but she forced herself to focus on the moment.
"I called you to inform you that Shikar has found a suitable job for you in the company. You'll need to submit your qualifications soon."
Maithili continued, her voice calm but firm.
Gauri's face brightened, her worries melting away.
"Thank you so much, aunty!"
she said, her excitement bubbling through her voice.
Maithili's eyes narrowed slightly as she lowered the magazine.
"Hriday doesn't know about this yet, but don't worry. Shikar will tell him. You'll be working on his floor."
The words hit Gauri in waves of confusion and curiosity.
"What will be my work, aunty?"
she asked, leaning forward.
Maithili smiled, almost secretively.
"Vivek, Hriday's PA, will explain everything to you. You can join in two days."
Gauri nodded, then turned to leave, but she paused.
"Aunty, did you have dinner?"
she asked, turning back.
"No, I'm waiting for Shikar. When he comes, we'll eat together."
"Did you eat?"
Maithili asked.
Gauri shook her head.
"No, I'll eat later."
She was just about to step out when Maithili called her back, her voice firm yet soft.
"Wait."
"Yes, aunty?"
Gauri's voice trembled slightly.
Maithili's gaze softened.
"Did Hriday eat?"
A smile tugged at Gauri's lips.
"Not yet. Kamla aunty sent his dinner to his room. He's probably in some meeting. He'll eat there."
"Okay, you can go now,"
Maithili said, waving her off with a kind smile.
Gauri's morning was spent preparing coffee, her hands working instinctively with the rhythm of the kitchen. Hriday's request the night before echoed in her mind—he liked her coffee.
She didn't mind it, even if he had told her not to cook. Cooking was something she enjoyed, and this small act of making parathas made her feel grounded.
"Normal paratha, or alu paratha?"
she asked, kneading the dough when a maid entered the kitchen.
"Wait, let me ask Kamla madam,"
the maid replied before disappearing.
When the maid returned, she offered a new suggestion.
"Kamla madam said to make methi paratha."
"Okay. Can you also make a black coffee for Hriday?"
Gauri asked, not even realizing she had slipped into calling him by name so casually.
The maid paused, raising an eyebrow.
"I mean... Hriday sir."
Gauri smiled but didn't comment on the shift. She continued to prepare, adding ingredients to the dough.
"Is everything alright with you?"
the maid asked tentatively, a note of concern in her voice.
Gauri paused.
"Yes, why?"
"I just... you're new here, and I've been working for two years. I've seen how things work around here, and I don't want you to make the same mistakes I did with Hriday sir."
The maid hesitated, her voice quiet but earnest.
"He's not as easygoing as he seems. You need to be careful."
Gauri paused. She wasn't sure how to respond.
"I think Hriday is a good person. I don't think he's rude. I believe there's just some misunderstanding."
Before the conversation could continue, Kamla entered, checking on the breakfast preparations.
"Prepare the breakfast, no gossip while working."
She cast a glance at Gauri, inspecting the parathas being made.
"What are you making?"
she asked.
"Methi paratha,"
Gauri replied, smiling softly.
Kamla nodded.
"Don't cook anything else, though. We have a chef for that."
Gauri's smile faltered.
"Okay."
Kamla looked over at the maid who was preparing coffee.
"Did you remember to make Hriday's coffee, Ritu?"
Ritu hesitated, still eyeing Gauri, but she nodded and went to pour the coffee.
"Almost done, ma'am," she said.
Kamla looked at Gauri, a knowing look in her eyes.
"You know, Gauri, Hriday is very particular about his coffee. No sugar, ever. He never drinks it with sugar."
Gauri's eyes widened as she glanced at Ritu, who froze mid-pour. Kamla's words hit her, and Gauri felt a strange warmth spread through her chest. She didn't want to explain why she knew.
But it was too late. Kamla continued.
"I almost forgot you were Hriday's personal cook once."
She gave the maid a pointed look.
"That's why you know his preferences."
The maid's eyes widened, realizing her mistake. She quickly left the room to deliver the coffee. Kamla looked back at Gauri with a mixture of respect and understanding.
"Don't let people push you around, Gauri,"
Kamla said, her tone warm but firm.
The early morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow on the breakfast table. Hriday sat impatiently, tapping his fingers on the wooden surface, his eyes fixed on the glass of juice just out of reach.
"Mom, pass me the juice!"
Hriday said, his voice thick with frustration.
Maithili, who had been carefully studying her book, acted as though she hadn't heard him at all. Her silence was deafening.
"Mom, please!"
Hriday repeated, his tone growing more pleading.
Shikar, his father, glanced up from his newspaper, the quiet drama unfolding before him making him pause. He let out a sigh, shaking his head. He knew better than to get involved in this petty back-and-forth.
"Fine, Dad!"
Hriday whined like a little child.
"Could someone just give me the juice?"
Shikar's voice was calm, almost indifferent as he lowered the newspaper.
"I can't do anything, son. It's your actions that have led to this, so you have to face the consequences."
Maithili, though pretending to ignore the scene, couldn't help but look on with an amused expression. She almost enjoyed watching Hriday squirm in the face of her silent treatment.
"Okay, fine!!!"
Hriday groaned, pushing the glass of juice toward himself and finishing his breakfast with a sour expression, the weight of the unresolved tension lingering in the air.
Hours later, the day had shifted. The sun was now high, and the house was quieter. Hriday had retreated to his room, and Maithili and Shikar found themselves alone in the living room. The weight of the earlier exchange hung between them like a heavy cloud.
"Maithili, I think there is no wrong in Hriday's reaction,"
Shikar said, breaking the silence as he looked at his wife. His voice was calm, as if trying to reason with her.
"No, Shikar, he insulted them,"
Maithili replied, her tone firm, her gaze never leaving the pages of her book. The words were soft but carried a weight of conviction.
Shikar raised an eyebrow.
"Whom? Your so-called best friend Sanjana and her son, what's his name... Dhiraj Ranawat, right?"
Maithili finally put her book down and looked at her husband, irritation flashing in her eyes.
"Really, Shikar? You're justifying your son's actions now?"
"I'm not justifying anything, darling." Shikar stood up, his hands raised in a gesture of calm.
"I'm just trying to point out that I warned you and Papa about this. I told you that you both should've spoken to Hriday before inviting them here. I don't understand what Papa was thinking when he selected Disha for Hriday."
Maithili's expression darkened at the mention of Disha's name.
"Shikar, don't forget—we are Hriday's elders. We have the right to make decisions for him. And remember, Papa Ji has more authority in this than we do. After all, Hriday used to spend so much time with Mummy Ji and Papa Ji when you were busy with business, and I was dealing with my health issues."
Shikar's voice softened, his eyes narrowing in thought.
"I remember everything, Maithili. But that doesn't mean we can control him. He's a grown man now. It's his life, his decision. Why should we force someone onto him?"
Maithili's face flushed with frustration.
"Wow. Very good, Shikar. Now you're talking logically."
"I always talk logically,"
he replied with a shrug.
"But you need to think emotionally, too,"
she pressed, her voice trembling slightly with the weight of her concern.
"He's 29. He's about to be 30. He needs to settle down. We can't wait forever. If not now, when?"
Shikar let out a deep breath, his eyes softening with understanding.
"He will. Give him time. You can't rush these things."
Maithili shot him a look of disbelief.
"Are you mad? If he keeps taking his time, when will he marry? And when will he have children? People these days don't even want kids early anymore, Shikar. They are too busy with their own lives."
"That's their choice,"
Shikar said, his voice growing firmer.
"We want grandchildren, but that doesn't mean we can force it on them. They will decide when it's right for them. Did my mother ever force you to have children? No. It was a mutual decision, right? We had Hriday because we both wanted him. It was our choice."
Maithili blinked, caught off guard by his words.
"So you're telling me I'm becoming harsh?"
Shikar shook his head, frustration creeping into his voice.
"I never said that, Maithili. Don't make assumptions. I'm just asking you to consider things from Hriday's point of view."
Maithili stared at him for a moment, her lips pressed tightly together as she tried to hold back the frustration building in her chest. Without saying another word, she picked up her book again, retreating into its pages as if she could escape the conversation.
Shikar stood there for a moment, feeling the growing distance between them. He wanted to fix things, to make her understand his perspective, but it was clear this wasn't a battle to win with logic alone. He needed to find a way to reach her—before they both lost sight of what really mattered.
In the silence that followed, it was clear that neither Maithili nor Shikar had any easy answers. The tension between them was palpable, and even as Hriday retreated into his world, the consequences of their unresolved issues loomed over the family like an invisible storm.
Would Hriday finally give in to the pressure? Would Maithili ever understand Shikar's viewpoint? Or would their family's expectations drive a wedge too deep to fix?
The answers, it seemed, were still to come.
The air in the room felt still as Gauri entered. She looked around, her brow furrowing in confusion.
"Did you call me?"
she asked aloud, stepping inside and glancing at the empty space.
The room was eerily quiet. She could hear the faint hum of the ceiling fan above but no sign of Hriday.
"Where is he? He called me and now he's disappeared,"
Gauri muttered to herself, scanning the room once more.
She called his name, louder this time.
"Hriday!"
Her eyes fell upon the bed, where she noticed his phone lying casually on the pillow.
"Hriday's phone is here... means he has to be around,"
she thought, sitting down on the bed.
As she settled, a photo frame on the nightstand caught her eye. It was a family photo of the Shekhawat family—a picture taken during one of the festive occasions. Gauri smiled softly as she admired the image, the faces frozen in time, a moment of happiness captured forever.
She was so lost in the memory of the photo when, suddenly, a figure emerged from the closet, catching her completely off guard.
"What are you looking at, sweetheart?"
Hriday asked, his voice filled with mischief as he casually walked over and sat beside her on the bed.
Gauri's eyes widened in surprise, and she was momentarily speechless as her gaze landed on him. He was only wearing trousers, his chest completely bare, the definition of his six-pack abs visible and making her heart skip a beat.
Before she could say anything, Hriday noticed her reaction and teased,
"Why, sweetheart? Can't resist your handsome husband?"
He leaned closer, flashing a grin.
Gauri snapped out of her daze, blinking rapidly.
"Hriday, where are your clothes?"
she asked, her voice laced with an exasperated amusement.
Hriday's lips curled into a playful smile as he leaned back casually.
"Why, sweetheart? Are you worried about me?"
His voice dripped with charm.
Gauri rolled her eyes but couldn't hide the blush creeping up her neck. She sat up straighter, trying to keep her composure.
"Mr. Husband,"
she said, her tone sharp as she sat a little closer to him, her gaze locking with his.
Hriday's breath caught in his throat as he felt her presence so close, her warmth seeping into him. There was something about the way she was sitting so close, so confident, that made his heart race. He could feel her breath near him, and something about the sight of the sindoor in her hair—the symbol of their eternal bond—tugged at him deeper than he could have anticipated.
"Beautiful,"
Hriday whispered, almost unknowingly.
Gauri didn't hear him at first, so she leaned in a little more, still staring into his eyes.
"What?"
she asked softly, intrigued by the quiet admiration in his voice.
Before she could react further, Hriday reached out, his hands firmly resting on her shoulders. Gauri looked at him in confusion, wondering what he was up to. Her confusion only deepened as she felt him pulling her closer, his face nearing hers.
And then... nothing.
He pulled away just as quickly, leaving Gauri frozen in place, her heart pounding in her chest. Hriday burst into laughter, his carefree chuckles filling the air.
"Ha! Gauri, look how I tricked you!"
Hriday laughed, lying down on the bed. His legs dangled off the side, still shaking with laughter.
"Your face, it was worth everything to see!"
Gauri stood up quickly, her cheeks flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. She turned her back to him, her breath coming in heavy gasps as her heart struggled to settle. She had been completely caught off guard, and Hriday's teasing only added to her flustered state.
"Oh my God...,"
Gauri muttered under her breath, her embarrassment intensifying as she heard Hriday's laughter echo through the room.
"Ha ha! Gauri, you should've seen yourself!"
Hriday kept teasing, still lying on the bed. "You thought I was actually going to—ha ha! Your face—priceless!"
Gauri couldn't take it anymore.
"Cup kijiye app!"
(Please keep quiet!!)
She shouted, her cheeks now burning a bright red with embarrassment.
Hriday's laughter only deepened, but Gauri refused to let herself be further embarrassed. She quickly turned away, making a hasty exit from the room.
As she stepped out, she couldn't help but smile, despite herself. Hriday's antics always managed to get under her skin, but it was moments like this that made her realize how much she loved the playful side of their relationship. Even if it was frustrating in the moment, it was also the glue that kept them connected.
The low hum of music mixed with the soft murmur of voices around them as Mayank and Hriday settled into their usual corner at the club. The air was thick with the clink of glasses, the warm glow of the ambient lighting, and the soft bass of a distant beat.
Hriday stared into the glass in front of him, his fingers lightly tracing the rim, but his mind was elsewhere. His usual cheerful demeanor was replaced by a deep sense of frustration. His emotions swirled, and he felt an overwhelming need for the comfort of alcohol.
"Mayank, today I am feeling so low, bro,"
Hriday sighed, his voice quiet, almost as if he was speaking to himself.
Mayank, ever the understanding friend, leaned back in his chair and watched Hriday. He'd seen this side of his friend before—when Hriday drank, it was either from a moment of extreme happiness or when something weighed heavily on his heart. Tonight, it was the latter.
"Don't worry, Hriday. These things happen, man,"
Mayank tried to offer some comfort, his voice calm.
Hriday shook his head, frustration bubbling to the surface.
"How can I not worry, Mayank? You know how Mom is... She's literally blackmailing me by not talking to me. She won't say a word to me unless I do what she wants. This is so... so fucking frustrating!"
Hriday's fingers tightened around his glass as he took another shot. The burn of the alcohol did little to dull the frustration gnawing at him.
Mayank watched his friend, his expression softening.
"Hriday, Aunty's just worried about your future. You're getting older, man. She wants to see you settle down. And let's be real—she wants a daughter-in-law too."
Hriday scowled, but Mayank didn't back down.
"Don't you remember how Aunty always wanted a daughter? But because of the complications, she couldn't have one. She's just trying to fill that space, to have someone she can love and spoil like her own daughter. You've seen how much she adores Isha and Kesar, right?"
Mayank's words hung in the air as Hriday sat in silence, his eyes distant. Mayank was right; he had seen the way his mother doted on Isha and Kesar. But it didn't change how much he hated the pressure.
"Mayank, how can I be okay with her bringing Disha Ranawat into my life? She's so fucking annoying. I can't even stand her, and you know how messed up she is. It's not right."
Mayank leaned forward, his gaze serious.
"Then you need to stop Aunty from seeing Disha as your bride. This isn't about Disha, Hriday. It's about your future. Your mom just wants you to settle down. So, go ahead. Make things easier for yourself. Either get married, or get a girlfriend—just show Aunty that you're serious about your life. It'll help you clear your mind and push Disha out of the picture."
Hriday paused at Mayank's suggestion, his eyes closing for a brief moment as he processed his friend's words. He wanted to scream, wanted to say that he was already married, but the words stuck in his throat. How could he explain that to Mayank without everything spiraling out of control?
Mayank noticed Hriday's hesitation and softened his tone.
"Don't drink too much, man. Let me call the driver. I'll make sure you get home safely."
Hriday nodded slowly, still feeling the weight of the situation on his shoulders. He picked up his glass once more, but the alcohol no longer offered any solace.
Mayank pulled out his phone, his fingers flying over the screen as he made the call.
"Drivers on the way. Just hang tight, alright?"
Hriday gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, his mind still spinning with thoughts of his mother, Disha, and the future he wasn't sure he was ready to face.
The club felt colder now, the flashing lights and beats blending into a dull hum. Hriday didn't care about the music, didn't care about the chaos around him. He only wanted one thing: an end to the pressure, an end to the blackmail, and maybe a moment of peace.
But for now, he would settle for silence.
Later that night, Gauri found herself standing in the kitchen once more, washing dishes late into the night. There were plenty of workers to do the job, but for some reason, she felt compelled to do it herself.
Just as she finished rinsing the last dish, Hriday appeared in the doorway, his figure framed by the soft light. She could smell the lingering traces of alcohol on him, his eyes slightly bleary but still focused on her.
"Gauri, what are you doing?"
His voice was low, but there was an edge to it that sent a shiver down her spine.
"I—I couldn't sleep. It's nothing,"
Gauri said, turning to face him. She wasn't sure if she was trying to justify herself or avoid a confrontation.
Hriday stepped closer, his presence almost overwhelming.
"Gauri, stop doing this to yourself. You don't have to act like you're some servant here. You're my wife."
His words cut through the stillness.
She took a deep breath, trying to ignore the heat in her cheeks.
"I don't want to be a burden," she whispered.
Hriday looked at her, his expression softening.
"You're not a burden. Don't ever think that. But I swear to God, if I catch you doing this again..."
He paused, his voice serious.
"I'll tell everyone about our marriage."
Gauri froze, the weight of his words sinking in. She wasn't sure what he meant, but something inside her told her it was a warning.
Gauri's face flushed, and she felt her heart skip a beat.
"You need to stop drinking, Hriday,"
She said, her voice firmer than she had intended.
He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he walked out of the kitchen, leaving Gauri standing there, her pulse racing. Was he angry with her for asking him to quit? Or was he just playing with her?
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