Chapter 24

Mayank turned into the parking lot, his gaze catching a small flower shop illuminated by warm golden lights. He slowed the car, his eyes scanning the vibrant blooms on display.

His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly for a moment before he sighed and parked. As he stepped out, the chill in the evening air brushed against him. He glanced over the selection of flowers—roses, lilies, marigolds.

"Looking for something specific, sir?" the shopkeeper asked politely, arranging a bouquet.

Mayank hesitated before answering, "It's for my wife." The words felt foreign on his tongue, but there was an unexpected ease to saying them this time. He even caught himself smiling slightly.

"Red roses, then?" the shopkeeper suggested. "They're classic for a reason."

Mayank nodded at first but then frowned. "Too basic," he murmured, his eyes drifting to a cluster of purple-pink flowers. They were vivid, unique, and somehow reminded him of her—unexpected, understated, but beautiful.

"These," he said, pointing. "They're perfect."

The shopkeeper wrapped the flowers delicately, handing them to Mayank with a smile. "Your wife will love them."

Mayank only nodded, taking the bouquet and walking back to his car.

When he entered the apartment, it was quiet except for the faint hum of the air conditioner. Niharika was curled up on the couch, fast asleep, a blanket draped over her legs. The soft glow of the TV lit up her peaceful face, and her hair fell messily over her cheeks.

He glanced at the flowers in his hand, then at the empty vase sitting on the kitchen counter. After filling it with water, he arranged the flowers carefully, placing them where she would easily see them.

Changing into a plain t-shirt and track pants, he sat down on the other couch, flipping through channels absentmindedly.

A few minutes later, he heard her stir. She sat up groggily, her eyes adjusting to the dim light. Her gaze fell on the flowers immediately, confusion flickering across her face.

"Flowers?" she mumbled, rubbing her eyes.

He turned his head toward her and said casually, "Yeah. I got them earlier."

"For...?"

"For you," he replied simply, shrugging like it wasn't a big deal.

Her lips parted slightly, surprise evident in her expression. "Oh... thank you." She hesitated for a moment before smiling softly. "They're beautiful."

He nodded, shifting his attention back to the TV. "You looked tired, so I didn't wake you."

Before she could respond, her phone rang. "Aai." She glanced at the screen and excused herself, heading to her room.

As she spoke to her mom on the phone, Mayank leaned back on the couch, staring at the ceiling. Her voice filtered faintly through the walls, but his mind was elsewhere.

He thought about her parents—how welcoming they had been, how effortlessly she had handled herself around their family friends. It struck him that he had done little to bridge the gap between himself and her parents.

He frowned, sitting up straighter. He should fix that.

When she returned, her expression was hesitant. "Uh, so..."

"What happened?" he asked, leaning forward slightly.

She wrung her hands nervously. "My parents called. They've invited us for dinner tomorrow... because we have some family friends visiting." Her words came out in a rush. "But I know you don't like these things, so I'll just tell them you're busy, and I'll—"

"We'll leave by seven," he interrupted gently, his tone decisive.

Her eyes widened in surprise. "What?"

"You heard me," he said, standing up. "Seven works, right?"

"Y-yeah, but—"

"Then it's settled," he said, walking past her to grab a bottle of water from the kitchen.

~•~

Niharika stood in her room, staring at her reflection in the mirror. She had chosen a light pink salwar suit, simple but elegant. Her fingers hesitated over her mangalsutra as she debated whether to wear it.

Before she could decide, there was a knock on the door. She turned to see Mayank leaning against the frame, dressed in a crisp white shirt and dark jeans.

"You should wear it," he said, his tone casual but firm.

"For the family friends, at least," he added, stepping into the room.

Her breath hitched slightly as he walked closer. She nodded, reaching for the mangalsutra, but he stopped her.

"Let me," he said softly.

She froze as he picked up the chain delicately, his fingers brushing her skin as he clasped it behind her neck. The room felt impossibly still.

His gaze lingered for a moment before he picked up the sindoor box. Without a word, he applied a subtle streak to her parting, making sure it wouldn't be visible unless someone looked closely.

"There," he said, stepping back.

She glanced at herself in the mirror, her cheeks flushed. "Thanks," she murmured.

"Let's go." He said, grabbing the keys.

~•~

The dinner was lively. Niharika's parents were warm and welcoming, and the family friends were polite and curious. Mayank found himself talking more than he expected, answering questions about his work, his life in Dubai, and his travels.

Niharika stole glances at him throughout the evening, surprised at how effortlessly he blended in. Her mother caught her staring and leaned over.

"Mayank is a good man," she whispered. "You're lucky, you know. He can carry a family."

Niharika chuckled softly, whispering back, "He is."

"And," her mom added with a mischievous smile, "he's quite handsome too."

Niharika laughed, shaking her head. "Yeah, he is."

When they reached the apartment, Niharika unlocked the door and stepped inside, slipping off her sandals. She stretched slightly, her fingers brushing her hair back, looking visibly relaxed yet tired after the evening. Mayank followed behind, shutting the door and setting the car keys on the counter.

She turned to him, hesitating for a moment before softly saying, "Thanks... for coming tonight. It meant a lot to my parents."

He nodded, his expression unreadable. "It was fine. They're nice people."

She gave him a small smile before turning toward her room. "Goodnight," she said quietly.

"Goodnight," he replied, watching as she walked away.

Mayank sighed as the door to her room clicked shut. He shrugged off his jacket, tossed it onto the couch, and loosened the first few buttons of his shirt before sitting down. His eyes wandered toward the vase of flowers he had bought earlier.

Something shifted inside him. He couldn't quite name the feeling, but the memory of Niharika's soft smile when she saw the flowers lingered in his mind.

In her room, Niharika lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling. The evening replayed in her mind, from the way Mayank had surprised her by agreeing to the dinner, to how he'd handled himself with her parents and family friends.

She had to admit, it was... nice. Unexpected, but nice.

Her fingers absentmindedly touched the mangalsutra around her neck. It still felt strange, like wearing a label that didn't quite fit yet. And yet, when he had put it on her earlier, there was a gentleness in his touch that had made her heart skip a beat.

She turned on her side, biting her lip. Was it possible that things could actually work between them?

~•~

The next morning, Mayank woke up earlier than usual. The sunlight streamed through the blinds, casting long shadows across the room. He stretched lazily before heading out to the kitchen.

To his surprise, Niharika was already there, dressed in a casual yellow kurta and white leggings, making tea. Her hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, and her face looked fresh and calm.

"Morning," he said, his voice still a bit raspy from sleep.

She turned, startled, before giving him a small smile. "Morning. Tea?"

He nodded, pulling out a chair at the dining table. "Yeah, thanks."

She poured him a cup and slid it over, sitting down across from him with her own. For a moment, there was silence as they sipped their tea.

"So," she began cautiously, "you were good with my family friends last night. They liked you."

"Did they?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

She nodded. "Aai even said you're, um... family material."

Mayank chuckled softly, setting his cup down. "That's a first."

Niharika smiled faintly. "You should've seen them after you left. They couldn't stop talking about you."

"Well," he said, leaning back, "I guess I made a good impression."

"Yeah, you did," she admitted, her voice quiet.

Her heart swelling slightly. For the first time since their marriage, she felt like maybe they were moving toward something real.

~•~

That evening, Mayank sat in his room, his laptop open in front of him, but he wasn't paying attention to the screen. His thoughts kept drifting back to everything that had happened over the past few weeks—India, the wedding, their time in Indore, the dinner last night.

He thought about her laughter, her calm demeanor with her family, the way she had handled the chaos of the wedding without complaining.

And then he thought about the flowers, the small smile on her lips when she saw them.

Mayank leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. Maybe this wasn't as impossible as it had seemed.

For the first time, he allowed himself to wonder—what if they actually tried? What if they could build something real out of this marriage?

A small smile tugged at his lips as the thought settled in his mind. Maybe it was time to stop holding back and start giving this a proper chance.

🩷