KRRIIINNNGGG… GGG!!The alarm clock screamed like it had a personal grudge against my existence—and possibly my peace and my love which is going away every fucking second(my sleep). I cracked one eye open and instantly regretted it. 5:30 a.m.( it was a time reserved for monks, joggers, and masochists who actually enjoy suffering.).then suddenly a wave of dread rolled through me before my brain can be fully awake. Oh. Right. We're going home. Not home home, but Home™—the place where everything starts warm and comforting, then morphs into emotional cardio. I floated somewhere between excitement and pure anxiety, half thrilled, half terrified, like I'd queued up for a roller coaster and was now questioning every life choice that led me there.Deep in my subconscious, the thought looped on repeat: The beginning will be beautiful. The ending will be exhausting. The first few days? Pure bliss. Mother's food—overfeeding disguised as love. Sleeping without alarms. Being babied like I was still twelve, incapable of basic survival.And then, like clockwork, the interrogation would kick in."So… any plans?"
"Have you thought about settling down?"
"Shall we start looking?"
"Your cousin's friend's neighbor just got married…"Uff. I groaned and yanked the blanket over my head, willing adulthood to vanish if I ignored it long enough. It didn't, of course. I forced my brain to pause the spiral. Not now. Panic later. Exist first.With a dramatic sigh that deserved an audience, I dragged myself out of bed—enthusiasm nowhere in sight, especially for the road trip my poor soul hadn't signed up for. I shuffled to the bathroom on autopilot, feet slapping cold tiles under harsh lights. The mirror reflected someone as unimpressed with life as I felt."Congratulations," I muttered to my bleary-eyed stare. "You're voluntarily walking into emotional warfare."I cranked on the shower and stepped under the spray, letting hot water pound my shoulders. I hoped it'd rinse away the nerves, the expectations, that relentless get married, get married chant warming up in my future. If anything, it sharpened them, steam fogging the glass like the fog in my head.This wasn't just going home. It was returning to a place brimming with love—and pressure—and unspoken rules I'd never agreed to but was expected to follow. And today? We were doing it by road. With my brother. With Drishti. With unresolved tension buckled safely in the backseat, ticking like a bomb.I sighed at the shampoo bottle. "This is going to be a very long day."The road trip hadn't even started, and I was already tired.
After getting ready, I stood in front of the mirror for one last look. Armor on. Expression neutral. Battle-ready.
I opened my door slowly and peeked outside. You know what they say—observe the situation first, then act. So I scanned the battlefield.
Target located.
MY BIG BROTHER
He was sitting there in what I can only describe as his "I might have committed a crime" mood. Nostrils flaring. Jaw tight. Eyes sharp. Like a lion about to hunt a very unfortunate rabbit.
I took a deep breath and walked toward him casually.
"Have you packed everything?" I asked, as if the temperature in the room wasn't ten degrees below freezing.
He slowly turned his head and looked at me with wide, intense eyes.
I ignored it.
Completely.
Like I had no idea a storm was forming two feet away from me. I even stood there with my best innocent expression.
"So… did you pack your stuff? Or did you forget something?" I repeated.
He looked seconds away from exploding, and I was fighting so hard not to smile. Annoying siblings? Elite sport.
Without saying a word, he turned around, picked up my bags, and walked downstairs. The second the door closed behind him, I burst out laughing.
But honestly, I still don't understand what's going on between him and Dristi. They don't even look at each other properly anymore. At first, I thought maybe it was just a difference of opinions. Then I assumed they simply didn't like each other.
But that doesn't make sense.
Back in school, when we were all together, they were fine. More than fine. So what changed? Something definitely happened. I made a mental note to corner Dristi later and get the truth out of her.
Just then, the car honked.
Reality check.
I quickly turned off the lights, grabbed the keys from the kitchen counter, locked the door, and took the lift down to the parking lot.
There he was.
Leaning against the car. Smoking.
I walked up to him and said, "Smoking is injurious to health. Don't you know that? Being a doctor's brother and all…"
He slowly shifted his eyes toward me. Calm. Too calm.
He threw the cigarette on the ground, crushed it under his shoe, and looked straight into my eyes.
"I know you smoke too," he said evenly. "I've seen cigarettes on your bed. So don't act innocent."
My mouth literally fell open.
And just like that, he walked to the other side, opened the gate, and got into the driver's seat. He honked again.
I snapped out of my shock, hurried to open the gate fully, and got into the car.
My first question came out immediately. "Since when did you know?"
"About a year," he replied, eyes fixed on the road. Straight face.
I shot my next question. "Then why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you tell me to quit?"
This time he glanced at me. And his eyes were softer. Full of something warm.
"I want you to live your life your way," he said quietly. "You're my baby sister. But you're also an adult. And a health professional. You should know what's right and what's not."
Ugh.
There it was again. Profession dragged into everything.
But beneath that, I heard it. Concern. Trust. Love.
After a few seconds, he started the car and added, "So when are you planning to quit? You know it's harmful."
I smiled.
There he is. My worrywart
"I know, I know. I'm working on it. Give me five or six months. I'll be done."
He didn't argue. Just nodded slightly.
Then I said, "Hurry up, or that girl will eat me alive."
He let out a soft breath that almost turned into a laugh, shook his head slightly, and pressed his foot harder on the accelerator. The engine responded immediately, the car gliding out of the parking lot with more urgency than before.
"And since when are you scared of anyone?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.
"I'm not scared," I replied quickly. "I just prefer survival."
That did it.
The rare smile appeared — small, crooked, but real. The kind that softened his whole face.
The city lights blurred past as we picked up speed, the tension from earlier dissolving somewhere between the hum of the engine and unspoken understanding. And we drove off ti pick up dristi