Aarav turned toward the voice that called his name, surprised to see it was none other than his mother-in-law, Subhadra. She was not someone who usually initiated conversation with him—at least, not kindly—so the fact that she'd spoken first caught him off guard.
"Uh... just working," he replied, still a little stunned.
Subhadra gave him a look that bordered between disbelief and disapproval, as though questioning his sanity. Her eyes scanned his surroundings—tangled wires, electronic devices humming softly, papers spread across the desk and floor. It was obvious he'd been working through the night.
She couldn't fathom how someone could be so careless. The previous night, it had been made clear—he was to attend the early morning prayer ceremony. And yet here he was, glued to his work like it meant more than showing basic respect. Was he seriously thinking of skipping it?
Aarav caught the meaning behind her glare. Without waiting for her to ask, he offered a calm explanation.
"A little sleep lost is no big deal. I'm used to it. I'll manage... and I'll be there."
Subhadra's resentment toward Aarav hadn't disappeared—how could it, after everything he'd done to her daughter? But as much as she wanted to stay indifferent, she couldn't forget one thing: he was still Arundhati's husband. Her instincts, shaped by years of motherhood, refused to ignore the exhaustion written across his face.
As Aarav began to pack up, ready to leave, she stopped him gently.
"Aarav, go sleep for an hour. The guests won't arrive just yet, and the prayer preparations are still underway. You won't last the day without rest. No one can function without sleep—not even you."
Aarav froze, stunned.
He didn't know how to respond. Kindness—especially from someone he'd hurt—was foreign to him. For a second, something stirred inside him, something warm and unfamiliar. It was the first time in a long time someone had shown him genuine concern. And he had no idea how to receive it.
So, he simply nodded and left.
---
The door to Arundhati's room was slightly open, almost as if she'd been expecting him. He didn't knock. Just walked in.
She lay sleeping, curled up peacefully. The usual storm behind her eyes was gone, replaced by a calmness that made her seem... different. Softer. Something in Aarav's chest loosened at the sight. His head felt heavy, fogged with exhaustion. Without even bothering to remove his shoes, he collapsed onto the other side of the bed.
---
Moments passed.
Arundhati stirred, blinking her eyes open. She spotted him beside her and would've ignored it on any other day, but today wasn't like the others.
"Aarav, wake up," she said gently, nudging his shoulder. "It's almost 8:30. Get ready—the guests will be here soon."
Aarav merely groaned in protest, rolled to the other side, and buried his face into the pillow. Arundhati sighed, already regretting the gentle approach. She tapped his shoulder again, a bit more firmly.
His eyes fluttered open for a brief moment. Still half-asleep, he stared at her, bleary-eyed, and then gave a slow, lazy smile.
"Dreaming, aren't I?" he murmured, voice hoarse with sleep. "But you're cute... stay like this, hmm?" Without warning, he grabbed her hand and tucked it beneath his cheek, using it as a makeshift pillow. He was asleep again in seconds.
Arundhati froze, startled by the sudden softness. This wasn't the Aarav she was used to. There was no cocky smirk, no teasing tone—just quiet vulnerability.
And yet, she reminded herself not to read too much into it. His voice was groggy, his thoughts clouded. It wasn't real.
Carefully, she slid her hand out from under his cheek. Aarav stirred, but didn't wake. With another sigh, she walked to the bathroom.
---
When she returned after a quick shower, the momentary peace was gone. She stood at the foot of the bed, arms crossed, and unleashed a sharp, commanding shout.
"AARAV!"
Startled, Aarav sat up like he'd been shot. His hair was a mess, his shirt wrinkled, and confusion clouded his eyes.
"Wha—what happened? Did someone come in? Are you scared? Is it a cockroach? Or... wait, did I do something?"
Seeing his panic, Arundhati dialed her voice down.
"No," she said flatly. "It's time. Go make yourself presentable and come downstairs."
Aarav slumped in protest, rubbing his eyes. But then, a mischievous grin tugged at his lips.
"My dear wifey... is this about me being presentable..." he paused, slowly rising to his feet and stepping closer, his voice dipping to a playful whisper, "...or are you just looking for an excuse to peek at my body?"
He ghosted his fingers near her waist, eyes locked on hers.
Arundhati narrowed her gaze, revolted by the casual flirtation.
"Aarav," she said icily, "I don't have time for your delusions. Go. Get. Ready."
But he wasn't done yet.
Leaning in, his voice low and teasing, he said, "You wake me up screaming my name, turn me on first thing in the morning... and now you're pretending nothing happened? That's not how it works, wifey."
Arundhati, dressed in a simple purple saree with minimal makeup and her hair down, looked striking—elegant in her restraint. Aarav noticed. But he masked the genuine pull with practiced charm, letting her think he was only playing.
She rolled her eyes, unbothered. "Don't flatter yourself, Aarav."
She pushed him aside and moved past him. Aarav clutched his chest dramatically, as if her hand had wounded him.
"Ouch," he said with a smirk. "That stung a little."
But he didn't push further. This time, he simply obeyed.