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Happy Birthday AishaniD29 Didi 🎀.

Wish her everyone, today is her birthday that's why I updated the chapter before date and without the completion of Target.

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Late at night, Rajat was driving home from work, his mind wandering after a long day at the office. As he turned a corner, he noticed someone standing outside a mall, her silhouette faintly visible in the dimming light. It was Vidya.

“Andhera ho raha hai aur Vidya akeli yahan kya kar rahi hai?” Rajat thought to himself, raising an eyebrow. Acha mauka hai dosti badhane ka, he mused with a sly smile. He decided to take the opportunity.

Rajat parked his car a little distance away, then got out and walked towards her.

“Heyy, Vidya... Right?” Rajat said, acting surprised as he approached her.

Vidya turned, startled for a moment before recognizing him. “Arre sir, aap!” she exclaimed, her face lighting up with surprise.

“Haan, wo actually mai ek important kaam se aaya tha,” Rajat began casually. “Aur tum? Yahan kya kar rahi ho?” he asked, pretending to be concerned but inwardly hoping to prolong the conversation.

Vidya hesitated slightly. “Mai apni ek friend ke saath aayi thi, wo nikal gayi, mai bhi bas jaa rahi thi,” she explained.

Rajat nodded, thinking for a moment before adding, “Ummm... woh actually meri na car kharab ho gayi hai.”

“Ohhh, so sad... to ab?” Vidya asked, her tone expressing sympathy, but a little confusion lingering.

Rajat glanced around as though unsure of his next move, then said, “A... wo tum mujhe drop kar do.”

Vidya paused, her eyebrows furrowing slightly as she processed his request. She was feeling uneasy. Itni raat mein akeli ladke ke saath kaise jaaun? I know he's a good person, but can I trust him? she thought, feeling the weight of the situation. She bit her lip, unsure. Aur jaanti hi kitna hun ek baar hi to mile hain.”

“Wait,” Vidya said, her voice firm as she pulled out her phone.

“Kya hua?” Rajat asked, a little confused, noticing her change in demeanor.

“Wo cab book kiya hai, aata hi hoga,” Vidya replied, her fingers tapping rapidly on the screen.

Rajat, looking perplexed, crossed his arms and questioned, “Haan, par tumhari scooty toh sahi hai. Phir ham cab mein kyun chalenge?”

Vidya turned to him, a serious look on her face. “Ye cab actually aapke liye hai,” she said matter-of-factly.

Rajat blinked in surprise. “Kya? Par ham toh saath ja rahe the na? Is there any problem?” he asked, genuinely confused by her sudden shift in plans.

Vidya shook her head. “No problem, sir. Par hamare ghar alag direction mein hain. Aapko drop karungi toh andhera aur raat badh jayegi, phir mujhe dar lagega ghar jaane mein,” she explained in a calm, collected tone.

Rajat looked at her, realizing that she was genuinely concerned about her safety. Just as he was about to say something, his tongue slipped. “Mere ghar aa jana…”

Vidya looked at him, taken aback by his words. Rajat quickly corrected himself, “I mean, hamare ghar mein extra room bhi hain...”

At that moment, the cab arrived with a soft beep.

“Aapki cab aa gayi… chaliye, Good night. Bye!” Vidya said briskly, starting her scooty. Without giving Rajat a chance to respond, she drove off.

Rajat watched as she left, dumbfounded. “Sir aaiye,” the cab driver said, trying to get his attention.

Rajat sighed and handed the driver the money. “Jao bhai,” he muttered, irritated. “Acha khasa mauka tha pehchan badhane ka, par Vidya aur maine bhi bina soche bol diya. Itna sochna tha na ki usse late hoga ghar jaane mein agar mujhe drop karegi toh,” he thought to himself as the cab started moving.

Later that night, Rajat entered his home, still feeling awkward about the entire situation. He walked into the living room where his father, Vaibhav, was sitting. He told everything to Vaibhav.

“Papa, wo toh baat bhi nahi karna chahti,” Rajat said, slumping into the couch.

Vaibhav, without missing a beat, looked up from his newspaper and smirked. “Bete, ek toh teri shakal aisi hai ki tumhe dekh ke gali ki kutiya bhi apna dupatta sahi kar le,” he said, his tone dry. “Aur upar se, aise order kaun deta hai ki tum drop kar do? Wo pehle toh dar gayi hogi ki akele ladke ke saath itni raat mein kaise jaaye, aur kyun bharosa karegi? At least tujhe ache se jaane toh wo...” Vaibhav continued, clearly unimpressed by Rajat's behavior.

“Papa, that kutiya wala baat was so insulting!” Rajat protested with an unamused face . “Aur agar wo baat hi nahi karna chahegi toh jabardasti jaan pehchaan badhaun?”

Vaibhav rolled his eyes, exasperated. “Gadhe! Koi ladki se direct lift maang raha hai? Ye kya tareeka hua? Tum baat karte na, bas. Agar tum drop karne wali baat na karte, toh shayad wo tumse kuch der aur khadi reh kar baat karti. Aise badhti hai pehchaan. Muh utha ke lift maangne se image khatam hoti hai, bas. Nalayak kahin ka! Baap se kuch nahi seekha.”

“Ohh shit, mai bhi na aisi chichoron wali harkat karta hoon,” Rajat muttered, feeling embarrassed.

Vaibhav smirked. “Haan, aur pehli baat, usko aise aankhen phaad ke do inch ki lambi smile de kar mat dekha kar jaise poore party mein ghoor raha tha... usko shaq ho jayega.”

“Hehe,” Rajat chuckled nervously, his cheeks turning pink.

“Kya hehe? Abse jo main bolunga, wahi karna,” Vaibhav said firmly, crossing his arms.

Rajat nodded sheepishly, “ok papa.”

The cool night breeze brushed against Akshat’s face as he sat on the terrace, the muffled sounds of laughter and clinking utensils drifting up from below. But none of it registered. His mind was a whirlwind of chaos, each thought colliding with the other, pulling him deeper into the grip of memories he had tried so hard to forget.

Leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees, he buried his face in his palms. He took deep, shaky breaths, trying to calm himself, but the knot in his chest only tightened. The past was a shadow tonight, dark and suffocating, creeping into places he thought he'd locked away for good.

After what felt like an eternity, Akshat sat up, pulled out his phone, and scrolled through his contacts. His thumb hovered over a name he hadn’t dialed in over a year. With a sigh, he pressed it.

The line rang twice before a familiar voice answered. "Hello, Akshat? You called after a long time. Is everything fine?"

It was Dr. Ritesh, his therapist—the man who had helped him confront the demons he rarely acknowledged.

Akshat hesitated for a moment, his throat dry. "No," he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. "It’s not fine."

Ritesh’s tone immediately softened, becoming one of concern. "What happened, Akshat? Tell me.”

Akshat exhaled slowly, trying to calm his racing heart before speaking. "Ritesh… I got married," he said, the words feeling strange coming out of his mouth. He had always been reluctant to talk about his personal life, but with Ritesh, it felt different. "Her name is Amrit."

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line before Ritesh responded with a soft, genuine smile in his voice. "That's... good, Akshat. I'm happy for you. But why are you tensed? Is she also like Kritika?"

Akshat ran his hand through his hair, frustration building. "No she isn't. The thing is, I married her in very different circumstances but I was handling my responsibilities aur sab thik chal raha tha, I was finally happy, I started laughing, smiling in silence because of her. I thought I was ready for this, that I could finally leave the past behind. But today… something happened, something triggered me. I don’t know what it was, but I couldn’t control it."

Ritesh’s voice softened with concern. "What happened? What triggered it?"

Akshat took another deep breath, his mind racing back to the moment it all happened. “ We were at a function and her blouse string broke during a performance. There were so many people around, and I couldn’t let her be embarrassed. I wrapped a cloth around her and brought her to a room. She trusted me to fix it, so I did. I sewed the string back. But then…” He paused, exhaling shakily. “While I was fixing it, my hand brushed against her skin, and suddenly it was like I wasn’t in the present anymore. My hands started trembling. My breathing got heavier. I stepped back as soon as I could, but it felt like I was losing control.”

Ritesh’s voice remained steady. “And then?”

“I sent her out of the room. She left, and I sat down, thinking it was over. But I couldn’t shake the feeling. It felt like I was back there Back in that moment. I thought I had moved past all of it. I’ve been fine for years now—or at least I thought I was. This… this caught me off guard.”

Ritesh listened patiently, then said, “Akshat, take a deep breath. I want you to ground yourself right now. Look around. Tell me three things you see.”

Akshat sighed, forcing himself to look away from the spiral of his thoughts. “The moon… the chair beside me… and the railing.”

“Good,” Ritesh said. “Now tell me three things you can feel.”

Akshat touched the cold metal of the chair. “The chill of the chair… the breeze on my face… and the texture of my jeans.”

“Excellent. This grounding exercise will help you when the memories overwhelm you. Now, tell me what you’re really feeling. Is it fear? Anger? Shame?”

Akshat’s voice cracked. “Fear. Pure, unadulterated fear. I thought I was done with it. I’ve worked so hard on myself since I started therapy at 20. I’ve had years to deal with this. But today felt like I was right back where I started.”

Ritesh allowed a moment of silence before responding. “Akshat, healing isn’t linear. It’s a journey, not a destination. You’ve done incredible work over the years, but sometimes, triggers catch us by surprise. That doesn’t mean you’ve failed or that you’ve gone backward. It means there’s more to uncover, more to process. That’s all.”

Akshat was quiet for a moment, then said, “This isn’t the first time. It happened last time with Kritika too.”Akshat closed his eyes, the memory rushing back. “Affter our wedding. I had asked for time… just to adjust, to get comfortable. She agreed, but only for a week. After that, she tried to get closer to me. She wasn’t wrong—I was the one holding back. I tried to give in, tried to suppress the panic rising in me. But I couldn’t. I broke down in front of her, had a full-blown panic attack. She didn’t understand why I couldn’t touch her. That’s when I came back to therapy.”

Ritesh’s voice cut through the silence, steady and firm, “Akshat, remember, this won’t heal overnight. It didn’t take a day for you to get here, and it won’t take a day to get out of it either. You’ve been carrying this weight for years. It’s not something that just goes away because you want it to.”

Akshat swallowed hard, his throat dry. “I thought I was over it. I thought... I thought I could handle it. But today, it all just came back, and I don’t know how to stop it from controlling me.”

Ritesh’s voice softened with understanding. “I remember when you first came to me, how much anger you had. You were filled with so much rage, Akshat. Everything set you off. And now, you’ve worked so hard to calm that anger. But this,” he paused, “this is different. This is fear. It’s not about anger anymore. And that’s okay. It’s a different part of your healing. But it might take years. And you need to be patient with yourself.”

Akshat clenched his jaw, a sharp pain slicing through his chest. “I feel like I’ve failed everyone around me. I can’t even be normal with a woman. With Amrit... I feel like she doesn’t deserve this. She shouldn’t have to deal with me like this.”

Ritesh’s voice was steady, cutting through Akshat’s self-blame. “Don’t blame yourself for everything, Akshat. You didn’t fail. You’re not a failure. And Amrit didn’t deserve to be dragged into this, but that’s not your fault either. You’re dealing with things that are bigger than you, things you couldn’t have anticipated.”

Akshat exhaled, leaning forward in his chair. “And then there’s Kritika. She left me. And I... I think she did the right thing. How long can anyone wait for someone to heal, especially when they don’t understand what you’re going through?”

Ritesh took a deep breath before speaking again, his tone reflective. “Kritika didn’t even wait, Akshat. She didn’t understand your pain, and she didn’t give you the space to heal. You told her what you needed, but she didn’t listen. She forced intimacy on you time and time again, without considering how much it terrified you. If she had been patient, if she had tried to understand, maybe things would’ve been different. But she didn’t. And blaming yourself for that,thinking you weren’t worthy of her patience, only makes this harder on you.”

Akshat’s voice trembled with frustration, the familiar ache resurfacing. “But it wasn’t her duty to heal me, right? Why should she have to fix me?”

“No,” Ritesh responded, his tone firm but compassionate. “It wasn’t her duty to heal you. But what is right, Akshat, is to respect someone’s boundaries. It’s about understanding, not forcing. You shared with her what made you feel unsafe, what made you panic. You told her why intimacy was a trigger for you. But she didn’t listen. She pushed you into situations where you weren’t ready, and that is not right. Whether male or female, no one has the right to force someone into intimacy if they’re not comfortable. She had every right to move on if she couldn’t wait, but she could have left with respect, not cheating on you. You need to stop justifying her actions and blaming yourself. It will only make your healing harder. And tell me how do you feel with Amrit?” he asked.

After a long pause, he finally spoke, his voice quieter now. “With Amrit... it’s different. I feel safe with her, Ritesh. When we hug, when we dance... it’s like I don’t feel that panic. I thought I was getting better. I even initiated some of it. But today... it was like everything just crashed down. I don’t understand why it happened.”

Ritesh listened intently, a slight pause before he responded. “So, I think it is because, She’s not trying to force anything on you. She’s giving you the time and space you need. She isn’t pressuring you. She’s respecting your boundaries, and that’s why you feel safe with her. You’ve been able to initiate affection because it’s on your terms. You’re comfortable because you’ve set the pace. You feel in control, and that’s what’s different from your past experiences.”

“But why did I panic today then?” Akshat’s voice cracked, the frustration still evident.

Ritesh took a moment before answering, his tone both reassuring and analytical. “Because healing is messy, Akshat. It’s not a straight line. There will be days when you feel like you’ve conquered your fears, and there will be days when those fears resurface unexpectedly. It doesn’t mean you’re back where you started. It means you’ve made progress, and now it’s just a matter of addressing the deeper fears that still exist. You’re doing better with Amrit because she’s respecting your pace. But that doesn’t mean you won’t have setbacks. And that’s okay. It’s all part of the journey.”

“I don’t know anymore, Ritesh,” Akshat’s voice cracked. He clenched his fists, as though trying to hold onto the ground beneath him. “I feel like a failure. Like a complete loser. I’m afraid of everything... the rain, the thunder, intimacy... even love. I can’t even be the man everyone expects me to be. I’m... I’m afraid of being loved, afraid of holding someone close.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the phone. Ritesh’s voice, calm and understanding, finally broke the silence. “Akshat, no one can imagine what you’ve gone through. What you’ve lived through. The fears you carry... the scars you hide. But you need to stop calling yourself a loser. You’re not one. You’ve been carrying so much weight all these years, and you’ve done it with so much strength. You’ve never given up on your responsibilities, on your friends, on your family. You’ve always tried to keep everything above you, above the pain. And you’ve made everyone around you happy—even when you were breaking inside. That’s strength. That’s courage.”

Akshat’s breath hitched. “I don’t feel strong, Ritesh. I just feel weak. It’s like I can’t handle this anymore. Every time I feel like I’m making progress, like I’m finally at peace, something happens. I see the rain, and I panic. I hear thunder, and it takes me back to those nights. I want to hold Amrit close, but the fear... it’s like it owns me. I can’t break free.”

Ritesh let the silence hang for a moment, choosing his words carefully. “It’s okay to feel this way, Akshat. It’s okay to be afraid. You’ve been through something no one should ever go through. That fear you’re feeling, it’s not a weakness. It’s a response to everything you’ve endured. It’s your body and mind trying to protect you. But it doesn’t mean you’re broken. It means you’ve been through hell, and you’re still here, still fighting. That’s what makes you strong. You’re not a failure. You’re not weak. You’re surviving. You’re healing.”

Akshat let out a shaky breath, trying to absorb Ritesh’s words. “I just wish... I wish I could be normal. I wish I didn’t carry all this with me. I look at Amrit, and sometimes, I feel like I don’t deserve her. She’s so patient, so understanding. But I can’t even give her what she deserves.”

“Amrit is patient with you because she sees the man you are, Akshat. She sees the man who’s been hurt, but who still stands tall, who still has so much love to give. You’re afraid of intimacy, afraid of love... but you’re not incapable of it. You’re just afraid of being vulnerable. And that’s okay. But don’t push her away because you think you don’t deserve her. You do. You just need to trust that it’s okay to need time. It’s okay to need space. And it’s okay to let her in when you’re ready. But you can’t keep blaming yourself for the things you can’t control.”

Akshat sat quietly, his phone still in his hand, a lingering smile on his face after his conversation with Ritesh. The words echoed in his mind—Don't let your past overshadow your present. Be happy and enjoy every moment.

He opened the door, and there she was Amrit, sitting on the bed with a plate of food in front of her. Her eyes met his as she noticed him standing there, and the small smile that tugged at the corners of her lips didn’t go unnoticed.

“Kahan the aap? Achanak se kahan gayab ho gaye the? Sab thik hai?” she asked, her tone gentle but laced with concern. Her gaze softened as she took in his presence, as though gauging his every move, every expression.

Akshat took a deep breath, trying to shake off the weight of the conversation he had just had. He didn’t want her to sense his inner turmoil. His lips curved into a small, reassuring smile as he nodded. “Sab thik hai,” he said, his voice steadier than he felt.

Amrit’s brow furrowed slightly as she looked at him, her eyes still searching for any sign of distress, but she didn’t press. Instead, she gestured to the plate in front of her. “Have dinner,” she said softly, pushing the plate toward him.

Akshat sat on the bed beside her, his gaze lingering on the food for a moment before he turned to her. “Tumne khaya?” he asked, his voice carrying a hint of concern for her.

She shook her head, a slight hesitation in her eyes. “Wo... plates jyada nahi bache the toh I brought the food in this for both of us,” she lied, but Akshat didn’t push her.

He smiled at her lie, though, his expression softening with affection. “Oh, baitho,” he said, patting the space beside him.

Amrit was about to tear a bite for herself when Akshat gently stopped her, his voice soft but firm. “Tum ruko,” he said, catching her attention. She looked up at him, surprised by his sudden command, and watched as he reached for the food instead.

He tore off a piece of the food and, without a word, brought it to her lips, offering it to her like it was the most natural thing in the world. She blinked in surprise but then smiled, her eyes softening as she leaned in and took the bite from him.

"Pata hai abhi na..." she began, her voice light and cheerful as she started recounting a funny incident from earlier in the day. Akshat listened, amused, his face lighting up with a genuine smile as he chewed, occasionally feeding her a bite between her stories. They laughed together, the room filled with warmth.

As she continued her tale, Akshat’s gaze remained fixed on her, his eyes soft and warm. And that’s when he noticed something: a tiny smudge of food on the corner of her lips. It was subtle, barely noticeable, but Akshat’s attention was immediately drawn to it. Without thinking, he leaned in closer, his hand instinctively reaching toward her face. His thumb brushed gently against her lips, wiping away the little smear of food.

The touch was brief but tender, and something shifted in the air between them. His thumb lingered on her lips, tracing the soft skin with slow, deliberate motions. It was unintentional at first, a simple act of helping her, but as his fingers remained near her mouth, it felt like something more. The warmth of his hand against her skin, the closeness between them, intensified the silence that filled the room.

Amrit’s breath caught in her throat, and she couldn’t stop the slight shiver that ran through her. Her heart raced, each beat louder than the last. His thumb gently caressed her lips. She tried to steady herself, but it was hard to focus, her mind racing as she tried to maintain control over her emotions. She felt as if the room had closed in around them, the space between them shrinking until there was nothing left but the feel of his hand on her lips and the weight of his gaze.

Akshat, too, felt the tension. His stomach flipped in an unfamiliar way. It was like the air between them had suddenly become thick, heavy with something unspoken. He hadn’t expected to feel this way, not with her. His eyes, seemingly without his consent, drifted to her lips, captivated by the soft curve of them. The warmth of her skin beneath his thumb felt more intimate than anything he had felt in a long time, and for a brief moment, he wondered if he could just stay there, with her, forever. But he couldn’t. Not yet.

Just as the moment stretched, hanging between them, the sound of a knock on the door shattered the stillness. Akshat’s hand immediately moved away and he quickly cleared his throat, feeling the remnants of the moment still tingling in his fingertips. He instinctively pulled away, trying to cover up the strange rush of emotions that had overwhelmed him.

Amrit, too, stood up quickly, her face flushed and her body stiff as she moved to open the door. She couldn’t look at him, not with the warmth still lingering between them, not with the confusion flooding her own heart. She opened the door, hoping the interruption would help her regain her composure. Akshat, meanwhile, tried to compose himself as well. He cleared his throat again, trying to hide the small lift at the corner of his lips. It was a subtle smile, one that tugged at him despite his efforts to suppress it.

Amrit opened the gate, the quiet night air greeting her as she stepped out. Her hand hovered over the doorknob for a second, adjusting herself, when she saw Pratibha standing on the other side.

"Beta, sorry to disturb at this time. I came to remind you that tomorrow we have to go for some shopping," Pratibha said, her voice carrying a warmth that always made Amrit feel at ease.

Amrit raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised. "Kal time kahan hoga?" she asked, her tone laced with a bit of concern. The idea of shopping in the middle of everything felt overwhelming, especially after the day she’d had.

Pratibha sighed with a small smile, brushing her fingers through her hair. "Haan, time toh nahi hoga. But what we can do, bahot zaruri hai," she added, a hint of urgency in her voice.

Amrit opened her mouth to protest, but before she could say anything, Akshat walked up behind her, offering a calm solution. “Masi, I am free tomorrow. Toh I can buy those items if you want,” he said, his voice steady and sure.

Pratibha hesitated for a moment, her eyes shifting between the two of them. “Beta, tum akele kaise... kuch samjh bhi nahi aayega,” she replied, clearly unsure about Akshat handling it alone.

But Akshat, without missing a beat, gave her a reassuring smile. "I will take Amrit with me," he said simply, his tone warm yet practical.

Pratibha frowned slightly, still not convinced. “Par beta, aapko pareshan nahi kar sakte ham,” she said softly, glancing at Amrit before her eyes turned back to Akshat. The last thing she wanted was to trouble him.

Akshat, however, wasn’t discouraged. He stepped closer to Pratibha, his hand gently pushing his hair out of his eyes. “You just called me beta na, aur aaj subah hi kaha tha na aapne ki mai isss apna hi ghar samjhun?” he reminded her gently, his voice sincere. “Toh uss naate mera bhi kuch farz banta hai na. Don’t worry, koi galti nahi hogi.” He gave her a small, assuring smile, his words filled with both respect and understanding.

Pratibha’s expression softened, touched by his words. Her eyes, previously filled with doubt, now shimmered with pride and affection. She reached out and caressed Akshat’s cheek, her fingers brushing against his skin in a way that was almost motherly. For a split second, Akshat flinched, surprised by the touch, but as her hand lingered, he realized it was nothing but a gesture of warmth, of belonging. He smiled, feeling a sense of calm settle in him, one that he hadn’t expected.

“Kash jiji zinda hoti toh aaj bahot khush hoti ye dekh kar ki apni Amrit ko kaisa heera ladka mila hai,” Pratibha said, her voice tinged with nostalgia and emotion. The words were heavy with love, a mother’s pride for the person her child had chosen. Akshat smiled in response, touched by her words.

Amrit, who had been standing quietly beside them, looked at Akshat, her gaze softening as she watched the exchange. She admired him in that moment—his patience, his warmth, the respect he showed for the people around him. It wasn’t just his actions, it was the way he made them feel, as if they truly mattered.

The room was dimly lit, the soft moonlight filtering through the curtains, casting a gentle glow on the bed where Akshat and Amrit were lying side by side. The air was thick with the quiet comfort of being together, the world outside feeling distant and unimportant. Amrit, her back against the cool pillow, was trying to settle in, but something about the stillness of the moment kept pulling her thoughts back to Akshat.

He was lying on his back, his gaze drifting towards the ceiling, the shadows of the night creating a calming contrast against his features. But Amrit, sensing the weight of the silence, turned towards him, her body slightly shifting beneath the covers as she faced him.

The moment their eyes met, it felt as though time had slowed, and the tension in the air became palpable. Amrit’s heart skipped a beat, her eyes lingering on his face before they fell to his hand resting at his side. Without thinking, her hand moved, fingers brushing the edge of his palm.

Akshat, feeling her subtle movement, glanced down and noticed her hand resting just within his reach. His fingers instinctively stretched toward her, and before he realized it, his hand cupped hers, gently enveloping it.

Without breaking eye contact, Akshat slowly raised their joined hands, guiding them to rest on his chest. The gentle pressure of her hand against him sent a wave of warmth rushing through her, and Amrit's heart fluttered as a surge of emotion washed over her. The sensation of his heartbeat beneath her palm made her stomach tighten with butterflies. She could feel the slow, steady rhythm of his heart, as though they were in perfect synchrony.

Her cheeks flushed slightly, a soft pink hue spreading over her face. It was the first time he had shown her such intimate affection, this was more than the casual touches they’d shared before.

He smiled at her, the warmth of his expression calming her nerves. "Good night," he murmured, his voice low and tender, as though it held all the meaning in the world.

Amrit returned the smile, her lips curving softly as she nodded, her fingers tightening around his hand just a little.

Akshat closed his eyes, the steady rhythm of her hand against his chest sending him into a calm, peaceful state.

But after a few minutes, he frowned, the warmth of her hand still lingering on his chest, the absence of something familiar tugging at his mind. She didn't kiss me today, he realized. His eyes fluttered open as he turned his head to glance at her. She was still facing him, her eyes half-closed, her breathing steady.

Before he could process the thought further, he saw her shifting closer, just a little. His heart raced as he quickly closed his eyes, hoping she hadn’t noticed him stirring. He didn't want to ruin the simplicity of the moment. He kept his breathing even, pretending to be asleep, and waited, holding his breath.

Amrit leaned in slightly, her lips brushing his cheek in the softest kiss. It was gentle, almost a whisper of a touch, a fleeting moment that left him grinning against the pillow. The tenderness of it made his chest tighten, and he found himself smiling even though his eyes were still closed.

"Good night," she whispered, her voice like a soft breeze, caressing his cheek before pulling away. Her fingers lingered for just a moment, as if savoring the closeness before they withdrew, and she settled back into her spot.

Akshat, with a heart full of warmth and joy, finally allowed himself to open his eyes, his smile widening at the sweetness of her gesture.  His fingers, still resting on her hand, tightened ever so slightly.

Next morning, Akshat was seated in a corner, laser-focused on his laptop, typing away to prepare notes for his upcoming lecture. The lively wedding atmosphere buzzed around him, but Akshat had successfully carved out his peaceful bubble, until a group of kids approached him, their eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Fufaji!" a boy called out, tugging at Akshat’s arm.

Startled, Akshat looked up. "Haan beta, kya hua?"

“Ye laptop aapka hai ?” A girl asked with excitement.

“Haan beta Mera hi hai.” Akshat replied pinching her cheeks.

"Fufaji! Game khelna hai! Laptop do na!" the boy demanded, pointing at Akshat's shiny device.

Akshat frowned. "Beta, yeh kaam ke liye hai.Game ke liye nahi."

Another kid chimed in, "Haan mausaji, bas 10 minute ke liye de do. Please!"

“Betu ye na wo game wala laptop nahi hai ye work vala hai.” Akshat said, trying to make them understand.

A chubby boy stepped closer, inspecting the laptop like an expert. "Wow! Yeh toh mehenga wala hai! Graphics zabardast honge! Ismein PUBG chalega?"

Akshat groaned internally. "Arre, yeh kaam ke liye hai, khelne ke liye nahi. Tum log jaake shaadi enjoy karo. Rasgulle khao, ya dance karo!"

But the kids were not easily swayed.

"Fufaji, aap humse zyada laptop se pyar karte ho!" a little girl exclaimed dramatically, fake tears brimming in her eyes.

“Nahi beta but ye aapke use ka nahi see koi game nahi hai isme.” Akshat said , trying to keep himself calm.

"Mausaji, hum bas ek baar khelna chahte hain," another boy sniffled.

Before Akshat could reply, the chubby boy flopped onto the floor and started bawling loudly. "Fufaji ne mana kar diya!  Ab hum kya karein?!"

The other kids joined in, fake-crying at full volume.

"Fufaji bure hain!"

"Amrit bua ko bolenge!"

Akshat’s face turned red as nearby relatives began to glance their way, stifling their laughter. He leaned forward and whispered harshly, "shhhhhh!! Chup ho jao bachon mai na aapko ice cream dunga."

"Nahi ice cream nahi laptop do!" the chubby boy shot back, wiping his fake tears.

Akshat sighed deeply and held up his hands in surrender. "Acha bahot sare toys dunga!"

Akshat was in his room, trying to escape from the kids. He had sent the link for his online class to his students and was all set to begin the lecture. Wearing his earphones, he leaned back, completely engrossed in his notes.

Meanwhile, the kids from earlier were still plotting their revenge. They tiptoed into the room. Seeing Akshat lost in his own world, they whispered among themselves.

"Fufaji toh busy hain," one boy said.

"Phone le lo! Phir dekhte hain kaise game nahi khelne dete," the chubby boy grinned mischievously.

Quietly, they grabbed Akshat’s phone from the table and ran out of the room, giggling.

Unaware of the theft, Akshat was deep in his lecture. Suddenly, one of the students interrupted, "Sir, kuch hua kya? Aap kuch bol rahe the?"

Akshat frowned, looking around. "No, no, nothing. Let’s continue."

Little did he know, the kids were outside playing with his phone.

Amrit was chatting with her cousins when her phone buzzed. It was Vidya.

"Hello?" Amrit answered cheerfully.

On the other end, Vidya was laughing hysterically. "Yaar, bhaaaaahhhahahahah!"

Amrit frowned. "Pagal ho gayi kya? Kya ho gaya hai?"

Vidya barely managed to contain her laughter. "Amrit, ye Akshat sir ne class group mein kya bheja hai? Sab students sun liye honge!"

"Kya? Kya bheja hai?" Amrit asked, her tone turning serious.

"Tu khud group khol ke dekh, samajh jayegi!" Vidya said and hung up, still laughing.

Confused and worried, Amrit opened Akshat’s class group on her phone. Her eyes widened in disbelief as she saw not one, but four voice messages from Akshat’s account.

“Yeh kya natak hai?” she muttered to herself and played the first message.

"Heloooooooooo!" came a loud, squeaky voice of a child.

She blinked, horrified. "Yeh baccha kaun hai?"

She played the next message, where she heard loud giggles and one child shouting, "Arre chubby, jaldi khel, Fufaji ko pata chal gaya toh band baja dega!"

By the third message, it was pure chaos—sounds of kids yelling, laughing, and one saying, "Yeh kaunsa button dabaya? Yeh red wala kya karta hai?"

Amrit’s jaw dropped. She immediately connected the dots, the kids had taken Akshat’s phone, and their mischief was now being broadcast to his students.

"Oh my god!" she gasped, clutching her forehead. Without wasting a second, she sprinted toward Akshat’s room.

Amrit burst into the room, startling Akshat, who had just finished his class.

"Kya hua?" he asked, removing one earphone.

"Kya hua? Akshat, aapka phone Kahan hai? Aapke phone se kya ho raha hai, pata hai?!" Amrit said, her voice a mix of panic and frustration.

"Kya matlab?" Akshat asked, confused.

Amrit held up her phone, showing the class group. "Aapke phone se bachchon ne voice message bhej diye galti se.. Sab students sun rahe hain!"

Akshat’s face turned pale. "Kya?! Kaise?"

Amrit groaned. "Mujhe kya pata aapko dhayan rakhna chahiye tha na kahi bhi phone rakh dete hain.”

“What yahin to hai.” Akshat didn't found his phone beside him. Realizing what had happened, Akshat jumped up, patting his pockets. "Oh no! Phone kahaan hai?"

Amrit pointed toward the door. "Phone toh bacche leke bhaag gaye!"

Akshat looked mortified. "Hey bhagwan.”

As Akshat ran out of the room in search of the mischievous kids, Amrit sat on the bed, shaking her head with a mix of exasperation and amusement.

Akshat finally managed to catch the kids and retrieved his phone. Back in the room, Amrit watched him nervously as he scrolled through the class group to delete the embarrassing voice messages.

"Bas, ab jaldi delete kar dijiye before anyone else listens," Amrit urged, pacing the room.

Akshat nodded, muttering under his breath, "Yeh sab tumhare shaadi ke bacchon ki wajah se ho raha hai!"

He found the messages and pressed delete. But in his panic, instead of hitting ‘Delete for Everyone’, he tapped ‘Delete for Me.’

For a second, there was silence. Then Akshat's eyes widened in horror. "Ohhhh shitt!"

Amrit, already anxious, smacked her own head.

Akshat stared at the screen, defeated. "Yeh kya kiya maine?!"

Amrit glared at him, her voice sharp. "Ab ham Vidya ko kya muh dikhayenge? Hasegi ki tumhare pati ka WhatsApp pe beizzati ho gaya!"

Akshat raised an eyebrow, unamused. "Shut up, Amrit. Meri kya galti hai? Woh tumhare ghar ke bacche the jo phone lekar bhaag gaye!"

Amrit shot back, pacing the room and biting her nails. "Thank God kisi ko abhi tak pata nahi chala ki aap mere pati hain. Warna students kya sochte? ‘Amrit ke pati ko WhatsApp chalana nahi aata, bas kuch bhi button press kar dete hain!”

Akshat rolled his eyes, irritated. "Haha, very funny, Amrit. And mere students samjh gaye honge ki galti se hua hai maine nahi bheje honge.”

Amrit ignored him, her voice rising in panic. "Ab to karwa di beizzati sab ye to sochenge hi na ki abhi tak delete nahi kiye.”

Akshat sighed dramatically, pulling out his phone again. " Ruko, Saksham sir ko call karta hoon. Woh bhi admin hain."

Amrit crossed her arms, tapping her foot impatiently as Akshat dialed his professor friend.

"Hello, Saksham sir?" Akshat began hesitantly.

Saksham’s cheerful voice came from the other end. "Yes, Akshat sir?"

""Galti se...kuch..bachon ne kuch voice messages bhej diye class group mein. Toh please ‘Delete for Everyone’ kar dijiye. It's so awkward, mujhse by mistake delete for me ho gaya." Akshat said, embarrassed.

"Okay, okay, don’t worry. Main delete kar raha hoon abhi," Saksham assured him.

"Thank you, sir!" Akshat said, sighing in relief. He hung up the call and turned to Amrit. "Ho gaya delete. Ab khush?"

Amrit plopped onto the bed with a dramatic sigh of relief. "Thank god! Aapko pata hai? Mujhe kitni secondhand embarrassment ho rahi thi.”

Akshat rolled his eyes and sat down on the chair. "Tum zyada overacting mat karo”

Akshat glared at her but said nothing, knowing she was right. He leaned back in his chair, “Ab bachon se phone chupa chupa ke chlna padega yaha!"

Amrit burst into laughter, unable to hold it in any longer. Akshat, unable to hold his laugh, chuckled and shook his head.

Vedant stirred awake as the soft morning light filtered through his window. Stretching his arms, he rubbed his eyes lazily, still half-asleep.

“Good morning, Doctor sahab,” a familiar voice greeted him.

Startled, he quickly turned towards the source of the voice, his eyes landing on the wardrobe. There, standing gracefully, was Nandini, holding one of his shirts, her fingers delicately folding it.

Vedant blinked a few times, as though ensuring he wasn’t dreaming. Sitting up straight, he ran a hand through his messy hair, trying to fix it. “Arre, tum... tum kab aayi?” he asked, his voice a mix of surprise and curiosity.

“Bas abhi abhi,” Nandini replied casually, shrugging her shoulders as though it were the most natural thing to happen.

Vedant swung his legs off the bed and stood up, a playful smile spreading across his face. “Tum yahan kya kar rahi ho almira ke paas?” he asked, crossing his arms and leaning slightly closer, his tone light and teasing.

“Aap ke liye shirt select kar rahi hoon,” she replied matter-of-factly, holding up a pink shirt. “Aaj ye pink shirt pehno, ache lagoge.”

Vedant raised an eyebrow, stepping closer to her. “Tum sach mein mujhe isme dekhna chahti ho?” he asked, his voice soft yet mischievous.

Nandini nodded with a small, shy smile, her cheeks faintly flushing. “Hmm.”

He closed the gap slightly, his eyes fixed on hers. “Aur koi baat hai?” he asked, his voice dipping into a playful whisper.

“Hmmm,” Nandini hummed again, her blush deepening.

“Kya? Bolo na,” Vedant urged, his wide grin reflecting his excitement as he leaned in just a little more.

Suddenly, a loud thwack echoed in the room as a sharp slap landed on his cheek.

Vedant spun around, clutching his cheek in surprise. “Mummy?!”

There stood Preeti, his mother, her hands on her hips and a stern look on her face. “Udhar almira mein kya ghus raha hai?” she asked, her voice laced with irritation.

Vedant, still in shock, stammered, “Wo toh Nan—” His words trailed off as he looked towards the wardrobe again, realizing it was wide open and completely empty. In his hand was the pink shirt he’d been dreaming about.

“Chalo, naha-dho ke neeche aao. Main nashta laga rahi hoon,” Preeti said briskly, turning on her heels and leaving the room.

Vedant stood frozen for a moment, then let out a hearty chuckle, sitting back on the bed. Shaking his head at his foolishness . He glanced at the pink shirt in his hand and smiled again, his imagination clearly having a stronger hold on him than he’d realized.

Vedant stepped out of the bathroom, a faint mist following him as he dried his hair with a towel. The soft pink shirt clung perfectly to his frame, and he smiled at his reflection in the mirror. Picking up his phone, he unlocked it to reveal Nandini’s photo as his wallpaper.

“Sapne mein hi sahi, tumne bola isse pehnne ko, toh main kaise mana karta?” he muttered to himself, his smile widening. Adjusting the shirt collar, he gave himself a final look in the mirror before setting the phone aside.

Just then, the door creaked open.

“Vedant, aapko Preetu Darling bula rahi hain,” a familiar voice chimed from the doorway.

Startled, Vedant turned to find Nandini standing there, her hand casually resting on the doorframe.

“Arre waah, ye shirt toh ekdum mast lag rahi hai aap par!” Nandini exclaimed, her eyes lighting up with approval.

Vedant’s face turned slightly pinker than his shirt. “Tumhe achhi lagi?” he asked shyly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Haan, bahut! Aise hi colors pehna kariye, cute lagte hain,” Nandini said, walking up to him and pinching his cheeks playfully.

“Tum bhi na,” Vedant said, shaking his head, though his smile betrayed his delight. He turned to the mirror to put on his glasses, adjusting them carefully.

When he turned back, the room was empty.

“Kahan gayi?” he mumbled, looking around the room. He even peeked behind the door, but there was no sign of Nandini.

Realization dawned on him, and he let out a small laugh. “Oh god, meri imagination,” he said, running a hand through his damp hair. Shaking his head, he grabbed his watch from the bedside table and chuckled to himself.

Vedant came out from his room . The house was dimly lit, as the entire hall was enveloped in soft shadows. Only two spotlights were focused on Vedant, who stood just outside his room. The quiet of the evening made everything feel surreal. He walked out, rubbing his eyes, what he saw before him made his heart race.

The soft glow of the spotlights seemed to isolate her, as if she was a vision from another world. Nandini stood in the middle of the room, bathed in light, her figure almost ethereal. The glow accentuated every delicate feature of her face, the curve of her cheek, the softness of her lips, the intensity of her eyes. He felt like time slowed down.

The music filled the room softly, like an omen of what his heart was feeling.

"Qissa tera, teri daastan

Chehra tera khud kare bayaan..."

Vedant felt as though the universe had conspired to put her here, in front of him, glowing as though she was meant for him. He took a slow step toward her, his breath catching in his throat. His heart hammered in his chest, as if his own body was aware of the growing connection.

"Kisi se pyaar tujhe ho gaya... Tu maan jaa, haan, maan jaa."

He reached out instinctively, his hand trembling with the hope that this moment, this feeling, would become real. As his hand hovered in the air, ready to touch her, his thoughts scattered, his emotions swirling, and before he could make contact, There was nothing.

The light, the music, the sensation—it all vanished in an instant.

His heart dropped. It was just him in the empty hall. His hand fell limply to his side. The illusion shattered.

He blinked, shaking his head, as if trying to clear the fog from his mind.

“What's going on with my thoughts?” he muttered to himself, chuckling softly at his own delusion.

He couldn’t focus on anything except imagining her, the way she looked, the way she always looked like , someone who had unknowingly captured his heart. Her simple gestures, the way she brushed her hair behind her ear, the slight furrow in her brow as she spoke, it was all etched into his mind, a series of beautiful details that made her seem both real and unreal at the same time.

And then, as if to shake him out of his trance, he felt a sharp smack on the back of his head.

“Arre!” he exclaimed, momentarily startled.

He turned to find Preeti standing there, her arms crossed, an amused smile on her face.

Without thinking, Vedant suddenly pulled Preeti into a tight hug. His heart, still beating erratically, couldn’t stop the urge to express the overwhelming mix of emotions inside him.  Preeti laughed, clearly amused by his behavior. She shook her head, pulling away and walking off.

Vedant sighed, his mind still lost in the haze of his feelings. He felt a tap on his shoulder, and turned to find Nandini again, this time holding a glass of juice and the file.

“Juice.” she said gently, holding the glass to his lips. Vedant kept his hand on her holding the glass, his hand brushing hers slightly, and he felt a shiver run down his spine. Her eyes raised an eyebrow, as if silently questioning his behavior.

Nandini opened the file, starting to explain some details to him, but Vedant wasn’t listening. He wasn’t even aware of the words coming out of her mouth. He could only focus on her presence, her warmth, the way she effortlessly captivated him.

Without thinking, Vedant suddenly tossed the file to the side, the paper scattering across the floor.

“Sir!!” His father's peon voice rang out, snapping him back to reality.

"Sir, this is the file Vikram Sir asked me to hand over to you," the peon said as he handed him the file and left.

Still unable to shake the feeling that he was caught in some dream, Vedant got up and made his way to the dining area.

There, as if pulled by an invisible force, his gaze landed on Nandini again. She was walking toward the dining table with a bowl in her hand.

Vedant stopped in his tracks, his eyes wide.

“Nahi, nahi, ye bhi illusion hai,” he muttered under his breath, but it was useless. The more he tried to convince himself that she wasn’t real, the more she felt like she was.

He slowly reached out a finger, as if to touch her, to test if she was real. But before his finger could make contact, Nandini grabbed it.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice tinged with amusement. “Pagal ho gaye hain kya?”

He blinked, stunned. “Tum real ho?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Nandini rolled her eyes. “Nahi, bhoot hoon. Vedant, ajeeb behave kar rahe hain.”

Preeti, walking by, heard the exchange. “What’s going on with you two?” she asked with a chuckle.

Vedant, feeling the weight of the moment, clutched his head. “Nothing...nothing, just...please...can someone turn off this song?” he muttered frustrated.

Vikram, walking in at the right moment, raised an eyebrow. “Nashe mein to nahi ho? Konsa song?”

Vedant sighed deeply. “You guys don’t hear it? The song, the voice..”

Preeti exchanged a look with Vikram. “Uncle, I think patients ko sahi karte karte khud dimaag ke patient ho gaye hain.” she said, half-joking.

Preeti placed a hand on his shoulder. “Vedant, are you okay?”

Vedant quickly shook his head, his thoughts still spinning. “I’m fine wo peon aaya tha unhone ek n. Just...just get me breakfast. I have to go.”

As everyone stood around him, confused and concerned, Vedant tried to regain his composure, but his heart couldn’t stop pounding in his chest. He had no idea what was real anymore. He had no idea if the love he felt was an illusion or the truth that he was too afraid to admit.

The afternoon sun was warm, casting a golden hue on the bustling streets as Akshat and Amrit walked together, making their way to the shopping area. Akshat pulled out his phone, ready to book a cab for their trip, but Amrit's quick reflexes stopped him. She snatched the phone from his hands, giving him an exasperated look.

"Arre!" Akshat exclaimed, surprised by her sudden action.

Amrit raised an eyebrow, her expression deadpan. "Shopping pe koi cab me jata hai? Baar baar usko rok ke ek shop se dusre me jayenge kya?" she asked, her tone playful yet practical.

Akshat blinked, clearly caught off guard. "Toh?" he asked, unsure of what the problem was.

Amrit simply nodded her head towards the side of the road, where a rickshaw was waiting. "Auto se jayenge na...wo dekhiye," she said, and before Akshat could protest further, she grabbed his arm and began to drag him toward the auto.

Akshat paused for a moment, eyeing the rickshaw skeptically. "Isme?" he asked, making a face as he stared at the cramped space inside the auto.

Amrit rolled her eyes. "Haan isme," she said confidently, pulling him along. She turned to the auto driver. "Bhaiya, main market tak le chalo," she instructed, slipping inside the vehicle with ease.

Akshat hesitated for a moment, glancing inside the auto again. His expression was full of reluctance as he scratched his head, trying to figure out how to make himself fit in the tiny space. But Amrit was already settled in, smiling at him.

"Baithiye na," she said, gently nudging him toward the seat next to her.

Sighing, Akshat complied, but as he made his way into the auto, he misjudged the height. His head smacked the overhead bar, and with a loud thud, he stumbled, landing on the seat with a wince of pain.

"Ouch!" he groaned, rubbing the spot on his head where it had hit. His hand came away, and he gave her a sheepish look, his eyes slightly squinted from the pain.

Amrit immediately reached over to check on him, concern evident on her face. She cupped his face gently, tilting it slightly as she examined the spot. Her fingers brushed the tender area, and she leaned forward, blowing a soft breath on his forehead as if to soothe the sting.

"Dhyan se aana tha na... jyada lagi kya?" she asked, her voice soft and caring as she rubbed the spot lightly, trying to ease his discomfort.

Akshat's expression softened at her concern, and he gave her a small, reassuring smile. "Thik hai," he said, though the faint wince on his face indicated the pain wasn’t completely gone.

"Ab thik hai," he added and straightened up in the seat, now more careful as he sat.

Amrit sat up straight beside him, giving him a pointed look as she said, "Dhyan se baithiyega." Her tone was playful, yet there was a genuine care in her voice.

“Dhyan se kya baitna, auto hi hai konsa airoplane hai jo-” his words halted as the auto jerked forward suddenly, causing Akshat to brace himself. His words were still in the air when the auto bounced again, and with a sharp jolt, his head collided with the low ceiling once more. His body teetered, about to lose balance, but in an instant, Amrit’s hand shot out, grabbing his arm with surprising strength to steady him.

She shot him a look, mimicking him in a high-pitched voice, “Dhyaan se kya baitha, auto hai konsa airoplane hai” She made the same hand motion he had, exaggerating the entire gesture, and Akshat clicked his tongue at her playfully, unable to help but chuckle.

They arrived at their first stop, the auto pulling to the side as Amrit paid the driver, and they got down together. Akshat adjusted his clothes as he followed her toward the shops, still rubbing the spot on his head, though the discomfort was fading with each step.

Amrit immediately began dragging him from one counter to another, her excitement apparent in her eagerness to pick out different clothes. There was no time to linger in one spot, she was caught up in the joy of trying on multiple options. He followed her, hands in his pockets, occasionally offering his opinion when asked. Despite his quiet nature, he didn’t complain, letting her take charge, watching her enjoy herself as she picked out pieces for their shared home.

Hours seemed to fly by, and by the time they were done shopping, Amrit’s arms were full of bags, each stuffed with items. They moved from the clothing stores to the various small stalls lining the busy street, where colorful trinkets, ornaments, and accessories caught their eye.

Akshat looked at Amrit with a warm smile, his attention suddenly focused on something. He stopped abruptly in front of a stall with delicate fabrics draped in shades of soft pinks and ivories. Amrit turned to look at him, startled by the sudden halt.

"Amrit," Akshat said, his voice a little softer than usual, causing her to pause and look up at him.

She followed his gaze to the dark pink netted dupatta hanging from the stall. Akshat reached forward and gently took it in his hands, holding it up against her shoulder with a thoughtful expression.

"Pyara lag raha hai tumpe," he said, his eyes brightening as he smiled at her. "It will match with your baby pink suit perfectly." His tone was sincere, as though he had been imagining it all along, and the thought of her in it seemed to bring him an unexpected amount of joy.

Amrit blinked, clearly caught off guard by his compliment. She was about to protest, as she had several dupattas already, but Akshat, with his usual decisiveness, interrupted her.

“Bhaiya, pack this one,” he said, his voice firm yet gentle, the kind that meant there was no room for arguments.

Amrit opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again, a faint smile playing on her lips. She watched him carefully, a soft blush coloring her cheeks at the thought of him picking something for her with such care.

"Accha, select some for your sisters also," he said, glancing at her with a smile. "Varna accha nahi lagega unhe."

She nodded, and with a smile, began selecting a few items for her sisters, the thought of Akshat’s kind gesture warming her.

They walked further down the lane, the laughter of vendors and the chatter of other shoppers blending into a lively symphony around them. Akshat’s eyes sparkled as he came across a small stall with a display of earrings.

"Amrit," he called excitedly, picking up several pairs of delicate, intricate earrings. "These will look amazing on you."

She looked at the earrings in his hand and then back at him. "Bahot sari hain," she said, raising an eyebrow.

Akshat, however, was undeterred. "Arre toh kya hua? Sab acchi hain na?" He turned to the vendor, his decision final. "Bhaiya, pack all of these."

Amrit tried to protest, but before she could, he was already moving on to the next item.

It became a pattern. Everywhere they went, Akshat would find something that he thought would suit her. Each new item, whether it was a scarf, a ring, or a piece of jewelry, was added to the ever-growing pile in his arms. He was so absorbed in picking things for her that he didn’t even notice her amused but slightly exasperated expression.

Amrit, however, was growing increasingly concerned. "Akshat," she said, gently tugging at his arm as he picked up a set of beautiful silver bracelets, his excitement palpable. "Bas ho gaya, kitna saman lenge ab? Aaj ke liye itna kafi hai."

Her tone was slightly stern, but there was a softness in her voice, a caring undertone that showed her concern. "Bina wajah paise kharch kar rahe hain."

Akshat looked at her, his brow furrowing in mock confusion. "Tumpe nahi karunga toh kispe karunga?" he said, his voice playful but carrying a depth of sincerity.

Amrit was speechless, her heart skipping a beat at his words. She looked at him, unable to form a reply, the warmth of his affection settling deep within her chest.

Akshat stood with a satisfied smile, looking at the pile of shopping bags around him. Each one was filled with little trinkets, jewelry, and clothing he had carefully selected for Amrit. But there was one last item he had to buy. He turned to the vendor and said, “Accha, ye bracelet last pakka.” His voice was final, and he added ten delicate, shimmering bracelets to their already overflowing collection. He looked at them, satisfied with his choice, but deep down, his desire to buy more lingered.

Akshat had always been fond of giving gifts to those he cared about. But after everything with Kritika, he had grown cautious. Kritika had never really appreciated anything he gave her, always complaining about the gifts, no matter how expensive. It made him stop enjoying the act of giving. Instead of thoughtful presents, he began buying extravagant, impersonal gifts just to fill the void.

But with Amrit, it was different. Every time she looked at a gift he gave her, her eyes sparkled, and her face lit up. She didn’t care for the price or brand. She treasured the thought behind it, the feelings he poured into picking something just for her. It was a feeling he hadn’t experienced in years. And now, as he looked at the bracelets he had just bought, he couldn’t help but want to buy her everything he thought she would like. She was special, and so every gift, no matter how small, felt important.

“Amrit, wear those earrings I gave you,” Akshat said, smiling at her, wanting to see her wear them.

She shook her head, a smile dancing on her lips and she swapped her earrings for the ones he had bought.

“Wait, let me click a selfie... these are so pretty!” Amrit exclaimed, the sparkle in her eyes lighting up her face. She reached for her phone and began adjusting the angle, capturing her new look with a bright smile. Akshat watched her, his heart warming at the sight of her happiness.

She turned toward him, still beaming, and reached for her hair. “Isko rakhiye zara,” she said, handing him her hairband, her hair falling loose around her shoulders.

Akshat took the hairband, a little unsure at first, but then he smiled as he tied it around his wrist.

Amrit took a few more selfies, flipping her hair over her shoulder and making funny faces to capture the moment.

She finished clicking her selfies and carefully tucked her phone back into her purse. She looked at Akshat and said, “Chaliye ab vapas bhi chalna hai.” Without waiting for an answer, she waved down an auto.

She slid inside, and as he bent to enter, his head was once again on the path to collision with the auto’s frame. But before he could even flinch, Amrit’s quick reflexes kicked in. She raised her hand just in time, gently pressing it above his head, guiding him safely into the auto. Akshat looked up at her, surprised, then down at her hand, which had instinctively moved to protect him. She smiled softly, and he returned the smile, feeling a warmth spread across his chest.

The auto rumbled to life, and as they began to drive, Amrit’s hair, still loose and flowing, started to catch in the wind. The strands blew across her face, and she immediately frowned in irritation. “Akshat, mera hair rubber kahan hai? Aapko diya tha,” she said, her voice filled with mild frustration as she tried to push her hair away from her face, the stray locks sticking to her lips.

Akshat, without missing a beat, reached up his sleeve, quickly pulling the hair rubber from where he had hidden it. He held it tightly in his fist as if it were something valuable, something precious. He looked at her, his expression unreadable for a moment before he softly replied, “I… I don’t remember… shayad gir gaya.”

Amrit let out an exasperated sigh, her voice almost whiny as she complained, “Ab kya karun mai!”

Akshat, still amused by her reaction, was determined to help. “Wait,” he said, his voice soft yet confident.

Leaning closer to her, he reached up to gently fisted her hair, his fingers curling around the strands with a tenderness that belied the teasing tone in his voice. Slowly, he began to gather her hair into a loose hold, making sure it stayed in place. The light touch of his fingers on her nape sent a shiver down her spine, and she swallowed the fluttering feeling in her chest.

“Ab thik hai?” Akshat asked, his voice low, his eyes meeting hers briefly before he returned his attention to her hair.

She couldn’t help but nod, her face flushed as she averted her gaze and looked out the window. The breeze continued to swirl around them, but now, with his hand on her hair, everything seemed calmer.

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