Inside Rakshit's study room,
A sharp pain shot through Rakshit's neck. He winced and slowly opened his eyes, staring blankly at the ceiling of the study for a few moments before his surroundings finally registered.
His laptop still lay open on the desk. A stack of files was scattered beside it.
He had actually fallen asleep in his chair. "I really slept here..." he muttered, rubbing a hand over his face.
He stretched both arms above his head before rolling his shoulders. Every muscle protested, and another dull ache spread across his back.
Leaning his head from one side to the other, he tried easing the stiffness in his neck. "Terrible idea," he sighed.
Working until midnight had seemed manageable. Sleeping on an office chair clearly wasn't. "I miss my bed already."
With another tired yawn, he picked up his laptop and walked towards the bedroom.
---
The room was empty.
The bed had already been made neatly, the pillows arranged perfectly as though no one had slept there at all.
A faint glance around the room told him she had been awake for quite some time.
He quietly walked into the dressing room, took a quick shower and changed into his usual charcoal-grey suit. Buttoning the cuffs of his shirt, he glanced at his watch. He was running late. Grabbing his laptop bag, he hurried downstairs.
---
Before he even reached the dining room, he heard it. Laughter.
His father's laughter.
It was followed almost immediately by Aprajita's cheerful voice, speaking so animatedly that he couldn't quite make out the words.
Rakshit slowed down unconsciously. A faint smile tugged at his lips before he even realised it. It had been a long time since the house had sounded like this in the morning. Usually, Breakfast was quiet. Today, It sounded alive.
As he stepped into the dining room, the rich aroma of freshly made chole bhature greeted him instantly.
Aravind was happily tearing a piece of fluffy bhatura while Aprajita sat beside him, laughing as she narrated something with expressive hand gestures.
Neither of them noticed Rakshit immediately. For a brief second, he simply stood there, watching them. His father looked Happy. Not because of the food alone, because he had someone to talk to.
---
The moment Rakshit's eyes landed on Aravind's plate, his smile disappeared. "Dad," he said, walking towards the table.
Both Aravind and Aprajita looked up together.
Rakshit pulled out the chair opposite her before speaking again. "You shouldn't be eating this." He pointed towards the plate. "You have chchemotherapy next week"
Aravind looked almost guilty, opening his mouth to defend himself. Before he could say a word, Aprajita calmly stepped in. "I already discussed it with his doctor."
Rakshit's attention shifted towards her.
She casually tore another piece of bhatura, dipped it generously into the chole and looked at him without the slightest hesitation. "He said it's perfectly alright once in a while." She took another bite before smiling. "It's called balance."
Rakshit simply stared at her.
She continued eating as though nothing unusual had happened, completely unaffected by his gaze.
For a second, he wanted to argue. Instead, he quietly cleared his throat and looked away.
---
A servant arrived carrying Rakshit's breakfast. The plate was exactly what he expected.
Egg-white omelette.
Sautéed vegetables.
Brown bread.
And a cup of black coffee.
Aravind glanced at Rakshit's plate before looking at his own.
Then he grinned mischievously. "Finally..." he declared dramatically. "My taste buds have returned."
Rakshit sighed. "Dad..."
"I'm just saying," Aravind replied innocently before happily reaching for another spoonful of chole.
Aprajita lowered her head, trying very hard not to laugh.
---
Just then, another servant entered carrying two neatly packed lunch bags.
"Ma'am," he said respectfully, placing one beside Aprajita.
He then turned towards Rakshit and placed the second bag before him.
Rakshit looked at it curiously. "What's inside?"
"The lunch prepared for today, sir," the servant replied politely.
Before he could explain further, Aprajita quietly reached for her glass of water and muttered under her breath, "The same thing the person who voluntarily eats boiled vegetables every day deserves..."
The words were soft.
Not soft enough.
Rakshit heard every single one. He slowly turned his head and looked at her.
Aprajita immediately pretended to be very interested in drinking her water.
The servant, completely unaware of the silent exchange, continued, " mam.. planned today's menu herself."
Rakshit raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
Aprajita finally looked at him. "Don't worry," she said with an innocent smile. "Your healthy food is packed the way you like..."
She paused just long enough for Aravind to realise something amusing was coming. "My lunch," she continued sweetly, "...just happens to have flavour."
Aravind burst into laughter so loudly that even the servants struggled to hide their smiles. Rakshit looked from his father to Aprajita and finally at the two lunch bags resting on the table.
Only three days.
She had been in this house for only three days, yet the kitchen menu had changed. The breakfast table had become noisier. His father laughed more than he had in months.
And somehow, the mansion that had once echoed with silence now woke up every morning to the sound of conversations, laughter and the soft chiming of glass bangles.
Rakshit reached for his coffee without saying another word.
But somewhere deep inside, he found himself wondering how one person could change an entire house simply by living in it.
💛
The afternoon passed quickly, with meetings, emails and deadlines keeping everyone occupied.
It was nearly four when Rakshit's phone vibrated on his desk. Without taking his eyes off the file in front of him, he picked up the call. "Uncle."
"Rakshit beta," Ram Gopal's warm voice came from the other end. "If you both are free... come home for dinner tonight."
Rakshit leaned back in his chair and glanced at the schedule displayed on his laptop. After a brief pause, he nodded to himself. "Of course, Uncle. We'll be there."
A soft laugh came from the other end. "Good. Your mother-in-law has been busy in preparing menu . If you don't come, she'll blame me."
A faint smile tugged at Rakshit's lips. "Then I definitely can't disappoint her."
"You'd better not."
"I won't. We'll see you this evening."
After ending the call, Rakshit opened the company messenger. His fingers moved across the keyboard before he pressed send.
Your dad called. Wait after work. We're going to your parents' house for dinner.
Across the office floor, Aprajita's laptop chimed softly. She opened the message, and the moment her eyes landed on the words your parents' house, an unconscious smile spread across her face.
Home...
For a brief moment, all the exhaustion of the day seemed to disappear.
Then the smile slowly faded. A familiar heaviness settled in her chest.
She loved going home. She loved seeing her parents.
But every visit meant another evening of pretending that everything between her and Rakshit was exactly the way a marriage was supposed to be.
Swallowing the guilt, she typed a short reply.
Okay. I'll wait.
---
By the time office hours ended, the floor had begun to empty.
Employees wished each other good evening as they packed their bags and headed towards the elevators.
Aprajita finished replying to one last email before shutting down her laptop. Slinging her handbag over her shoulder, she walked towards the basement lobby and waited near the entrance, absent-mindedly scrolling through her phone.
A few minutes later, Rakshit stepped out of the executive elevator. He loosened his tie as he walked, clearly tired after another long day, but the moment he spotted her waiting quietly, he walked straight towards the car without saying anything.
He unlocked it with a click. "Let's go."
Aprajita simply nodded and slipped into the passenger seat while he settled behind the wheel.
Within moments, the BMW rolled out of the basement.
The city roads were packed with evening traffic.
Cars crawled forward one signal at a time while soft instrumental music played almost inaudibly through the speakers.
Neither of them spoke.
But unlike before the silence no longer felt awkward. It had slowly become something they both understood.
Comfortable.
Unforced.
Every now and then, Aprajita looked out of the window, watching familiar streets pass by. Rakshit remained focused on the road, one hand resting lightly on the steering wheel.
Neither of them felt the need to fill the silence with unnecessary conversation.
Nearly forty minutes later, the car turned into the familiar lane lined with gulmohar trees. Aprajita immediately recognised every corner.
A small smile returned to her face. "We're here," she murmured softly.
Rakshit parked outside the Sharma residence and switched off the engine. Before either of them could step out, the front door flew open. "Appu!"
Malti almost hurried down the front steps, her face glowing with excitement. Aprajita laughed before she had even reached the gate. "Ma..."
The moment she stepped inside, Malti wrapped her in a tight embrace.
"I missed you," Aprajita said, hugging her back just as tightly.
"I missed you more," Malti replied, gently cupping her daughter's face before brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Look at you... you've become thinner already."
Aprajita laughed. "It's only been three days."
"So what?" Malti protested. "Three days are enough."
Ram Gopal walked out behind them with his usual warm smile.
"Will you both keep standing outside?" he teased. "Or can the son-in-law come inside too?"
Rakshit smiled politely and folded his hands in greeting. "Good evening, Uncle."
Ram immediately shook his head. "No 'good evening' and no 'Uncle' today."
Rakshit looked at him questioningly.
Ram smiled and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
"This is your home now, beta. So stop standing at the door like a guest."
For a brief second, Rakshit simply looked at him.
Then he gave a small nod. "Okay papa."
"That's better." Ram patted his shoulder affectionately before leading both of them inside.
The house smelled exactly the way Aprajita remembered.
Fresh ghee.
Roasted spices.
And the unmistakable aroma of her mother's cooking drifting from the kitchen.
"You both must be hungry," Malti said, already fussing over them. "Did you eat anything after work?"
Before either of them could answer, she continued, "Never mind. Wash your hands first. Dinner is almost ready."
Aprajita exchanged a helpless smile with Rakshit "See?" she whispered. "Nothing changes here."
Rakshit looked at the cheerful chaos unfolding around them. Ram was asking him about work. Malti was calling out instructions to someone in the kitchen while simultaneously reminding Aprajita to remove her bangles before helping.
For the first time in days he saw Aprajita completely relaxed. She laughed without hesitation. Answered her parents without carefully measuring every word. Moved around the house as though every corner belonged to her.
And perhaps, it still did.
Standing quietly beside her, Rakshit realised something he hadn't thought about before.
This house wasn't just where she had grown up, it was where she became the woman he had always known.
As Aprajita watched her parents happily fuss over both of them, a quiet warmth spread through her heart.
For just one evening she wanted to forget the contract.
Forget the conditions.
Forget the lies she had been forced to tell.
She simply wanted to be a daughter who had come home with her husband.
💛
Aprajita followed Malti into the kitchen, and the familiar aroma instantly wrapped around her like a warm hug. The rich smell of ghee, roasted spices and freshly prepared food reminded her that, no matter where life took her, this kitchen would always feel like home.
Curious, she lifted the first lid.
Her eyes widened immediately. "Dal Bafla?"
She quickly opened the next vessel. "Indore Shahi Paneer..."
Another lid came off. "Aadesh Shahi Paratha!"
Her excitement grew with every dish she uncovered.
Finally, she peeked into the dessert bowl and almost gasped. "Moong Dal Halwa!"
She turned towards her mother, looking completely overwhelmed. "Ma..."
Malti smiled fondly and cupped her daughter's cheeks. "All your favourites."
Aprajita's smile softened instantly. "You made all this... for me?"
Malti looked at her as though the answer was obvious. "For whom else would I spend the whole afternoon in the kitchen?"
Emotion welled up in Aprajita's chest. She stepped forward, about to hug her mother, when a sudden thought crossed her mind. "But... Ma..." she said, lowering her voice. "You know your son-in-law is extremely diet conscious."
Malti's smile faded. "Oh dear..." she murmured, glancing towards the dining room. "I didn't know that."
She looked genuinely worried. "I should've made something lighter for him."
Aprajita immediately slipped an arm around her mother's shoulders and smiled reassuringly. "He can eat this once." And shrugged playfully."He won't die."
Malti laughed despite herself and lightly tapped her daughter's forehead. "You and your confidence."
"I learned from the best," Aprajita replied with a grin, making both of them laugh before carrying the serving bowls outside.
---
Meanwhile, Rakshit and Ram Gopal had settled at the dining table after washing their hands. The conversation drifted casually from work to Aravind's health while they waited for the others. A few moments later, Malti and Aprajita walked in, carefully carrying the remaining dishes.
Rakshit's eyes instinctively travelled towards the dining table. Then he looked again. The table was overflowing.
Bowls of fragrant dal, rich paneer, crispy parathas, vegetables, chutneys and desserts filled almost every inch of space.
His gaze slowly shifted towards Aprajita. She was already looking at him. Trying very hard not to smile.
The corners of her lips twitched mischievously, as though she was silently waiting to see how the man who survived on boiled vegetables would react.
Malti served him first. "Please, beta," she said warmly, placing food onto his plate. "Have some."
Ram and Aprajita watched him almost expectantly. Rakshit picked up a piece of paratha, dipped it into the paneer and took a slow bite. For a few seconds nobody spoke. Three pairs of eyes remained fixed on him.
He calmly swallowed before looking at Malti. "It's..." he began, and a small smile appeared on his face. "...really good, Aunty."
Malti's face lit up with relief. "I'm so happy you liked it."
Rakshit nodded sincerely. "It's delicious."
Aprajita immediately lowered her head, pretending to focus on her plate.
She had expected him to politely taste one bite and return to his disciplined diet. Instead, he reached for another piece of paratha.
Then another serving of paneer. By the time dinner ended, the bowl of paneer was noticeably emptier than before.
Aprajita stole another glance at him and smiled to herself.
So much for the strict diet...
---
After dinner, everyone moved into the living room with cups of warm water.
The atmosphere felt peaceful.
Comfortable.
No one seemed in a hurry to end the evening.
For a while, they simply chatted about family, neighbours and old memories until Ram Gopal cleared his throat. "Rakshit..."
Rakshit looked up immediately. "Haa...papa?"
Ram smiled before reaching for a cream-coloured envelope lying on the centre table. "This is for both of you."
Rakshit looked puzzled.
"Wedding gift," Ram explained with a smile. You both refused a grand wedding."
His eyes rested affectionately on the newly married couple. "And you didn't let me spend anything."
He held out the envelope. "So let this old man gift you something."
Rakshit instinctively looked towards Aprajita. She looked just as confused as he was.
He accepted the envelope politely. "Thank you."
As he opened it, two neatly printed vouchers slid into his hand. His expression changed. Beside him, Aprajita leaned slightly closer, trying to read what was written. The moment her eyes landed on the bold heading...
Her smile disappeared.
Five Days. Four Nights.
Maldives Honeymoon Package.
For a brief second, neither of them reacted.
Then they slowly looked at each other. Neither knew what to say.
Ram Gopal smiled proudly, completely unaware of the storm he had just created. "I booked it almost two months ago," he said happily. "You can leave whenever you're both free."
Malti clasped her hands excitedly. "I've even made a list of places you should visit. You'll have so much fun."
Aprajita forced a smile that barely reached her eyes. "T-Thank you..." Beside her, Rakshit quietly slid the vouchers back into the envelope.
He didn't trust himself to speak just yet.
To everyone else in the room, it was the perfect wedding gift. A dream honeymoon for a newly married couple.
But for the two people sitting side by side, it had suddenly become the biggest complication in a marriage that was never supposed to look real behind closed doors.
💛
The drive back to Bharadwaj Mansion was quieter than usual.
The envelope containing the honeymoon vouchers rested on the centre console between them, untouched.
Neither of them mentioned it.
They didn't need to.
Its presence spoke loudly enough.
The soft music playing in the background did little to ease the awkwardness that had settled inside the car.
Rakshit kept his eyes on the road while Aprajita silently watched the city lights blur past the window.
For the first time since their marriage neither of them knew what to say.
---
By the time they reached the mansion, it was already late.
They walked upstairs together, exchanged a quiet goodnight with Aravind, and entered their room.
Aprajita picked up her night clothes without a word. "I'll just change," she said softly before disappearing into the dressing room.
Rakshit gave a small nod.
As the door closed behind her, he loosened his tie and placed the cream-coloured envelope on the bedside table.
Removing his watch, he sat down on the edge of the bed and let out a long, tired breath.
His stomach still felt unusually full. Normally, dinner means grilled chicken, steamed vegetables, soup.Meals measured by calories instead of cravings.
Tonight had been completely different.
Parathas.
Paneer.
Dal bafla.
Even a generous bowl of moong dal halwa.
He leaned back slightly and closed his eyes.
It wasn't that he'd suddenly forgotten his discipline.
He simply hadn't found it in himself to refuse.
Every time Malti had placed another serving onto his plate, she smiled at him with the same gentle insistence his mother might have.
The memory lingered longer than he expected.
A faint smile touched his lips."They really know how to feed people," he murmured to himself.
Just then, the dressing room door opened. Rakshit looked up instinctively.
Aprajita walked out in a simple cotton kurti, her damp hair falling over one shoulder as she gently dried it with a towel.
For a brief second, their eyes met. Then she quietly looked away.
Rakshit stood up, picked up his own clothes and walked towards the dressing room. "I'll be back."
She nodded silently. "Okay."
The door clicked shut behind him.
---
The room fell quiet once again.
Aprajita's gaze slowly drifted towards the bedside table.
The cream-coloured envelope immediately caught her attention. Almost without thinking, she walked over and picked it up carefully.
Her fingers traced the neat handwriting on the front.
For Rakshit & Aprajita.
From Papa & Mumma.
Her smile slowly disappeared.
She closed her eyes for a moment, holding the envelope gently against her hands. She could picture everything.
Her father spent weeks searching for the perfect gift. Her mother secretly planning what clothes she should pack.
Both of them smiling to themselves, believing they were sending their daughter and son-in-law on the beginning of a beautiful life together.
A painful knot formed in her chest. They had accepted Rakshit with their whole hearts.
Not as a guest.
Not as a son-in-law.
As their own son.
And she was standing before them every day, pretending that her marriage was something it wasn't.
A single tear slipped down her cheek before she could stop it. She wiped it away quickly, but another followed.
"I hate lying to you, Papa..." she whispered, her voice barely audible.
"And I'm doing it every single day." The words echoed inside the silent room.
After a long moment, her thoughts drifted towards the man on the other side of the dressing room door.
She was hiding the truth from her parents.
But the truth she was hiding from Rakshit felt even heavier.
Her love.
The one thing he had unknowingly forbidden with a single clause.
No Love.
If he ever discovered that she'd loved him long before he had offered her the contract...
He wouldn't see it as love. He would see it as deception. She knew him well enough to understand that. Trust mattered more to Rakshit Bharadwaj than almost anything else.
And she had already broken it without him even knowing. Her fingers tightened around the envelope.
The honeymoon vouchers no longer felt like a wedding gift. They felt like a glimpse into the life she had once dreamt of , a dream she could never allow herself to hope for.
Inside the dressing room, the sound of running water suddenly stopped.
Aprajita quickly inhaled a shaky breath.
She carefully placed the envelope back in the exact position where Rakshit had left it.
Using the edge of her dupatta, she wiped away every trace of tears before looking at herself in the mirror.
A small smile. Steady breathing. Calm eyes.
By the time the dressing room door opened again the woman who had been crying had quietly disappeared.
Only Aprajita Bharadwaj remained.
Composed.
Practical.
And determined that no one-not even her husband-would ever know what was truly hidden inside her heart.
💛
Rakshit stepped out of the dressing room, absently drying his damp hair with a towel. He had changed into a plain black T-shirt and grey track pants, looking nothing like the impeccably dressed CEO who commanded boardrooms all day.
For the first time Aprajita saw him without his tailored suits, polished shoes or perfectly knotted tie.
He looked... younger.
Softer. Less like the intimidating head of House of Bharadwaj. More like an exhausted thirty-five-year-old man who had simply come home after a long day.
She found herself staring. There was something strangely comforting about seeing this side of him.
When Rakshit looked up and their eyes met, she immediately looked away, pretending to adjust the blanket lying at the foot of the bed.
An awkward silence settled over the room. After a few moments, she cleared her throat softly. "Which side..." she asked hesitantly, "...will you take?"
Rakshit didn't need to think. "The left."
His answer came almost immediately.
Without making the situation any more awkward, he walked over to the bed and lay down on the left side, leaving more than enough space between them.
Aprajita switched off the main lights, leaving only the warm glow of the bedside lamp.
She carefully slipped under the blanket on the right side of the bed, making sure to keep the same respectful distance.
Facing the opposite direction, she closed her eyes.
For the first few minutes neither of them moved. The room was silent except for the faint hum of the air conditioner. Behind her, she could hear the slow, steady rhythm of Rakshit's breathing.
Her heart tightened. She had imagined sleeping beside him countless times over the past five years.
In every dream, he had been hers.
In every dream, he had chosen her.
Reality was painfully different.
Her husband...Only an arm's length away, yet farther than he had ever been.
She shut her eyes tighter.
Sleep refused to come.
---
Hours passed.
The house had fallen completely silent.
Aprajita slowly opened her eyes and turned towards the digital clock on the bedside table.
12:17 a.m.
She let out a quiet sigh.
Careful not to make the mattress move, she slowly turned onto her other side.
Her gaze rested on Rakshit. Sometime during the night, he had rolled onto his side, facing her.
Moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft silver glow across his face.
For once the lines of responsibility had disappeared from his forehead.
His expression was calm.
Almost boyish.
A smile found its way to her lips before she could stop it. "So this is what you look like when you're not worrying about the whole world..." she whispered so softly that even she barely heard herself.
Almost unconsciously, she lifted her hand. Her fingers paused in mid-air for a brief moment.
She knew she shouldn't. But her heart ignored every warning. Very gently she brushed the loose strand of hair away from his forehead.
Her fingertips barely grazed his skin. "So unfair..." she murmured with a tiny smile. "You look much kinder when you're asleep."
She slowly began to pull her hand away.
Just then, Rakshit shifted. Her heart lurched into her throat. Before she could react, his hand moved instinctively. Still fast asleep, he reached out and caught her fingers.
Aprajita froze. Her eyes widened in alarm. "Rakshit..." she whispered nervously.
There was no response. His breathing remained slow and even. He hadn't woken up.
Completely unaware of what he was doing, he gently pulled her hand closer and tucked it beneath his cheek as though it were the most comfortable pillow in the world.
His fingers curled around hers. Holding her hand securely. Aprajita didn't dare move. She waited for a few seconds before trying to pull her hand free.
Very carefully.
Very gently.
It didn't work.
Instead his grip tightened just a little, as though afraid she might disappear.
A helpless laugh escaped her lips. "So
..." she whispered with an amused smile. "You are so stubborn even in your sleep."
She tried once more.
Again... Nothing.
Giving up, she carefully shifted a little closer so that her arm wouldn't be stretched awkwardly.
The space between them quietly disappeared. She could feel the comforting warmth of his hand around hers.
She could hear the soft rhythm of his breathing.
Little by little, the frantic beating of her own heart began to slow. Her eyes lingered on his peaceful face. A bittersweet smile touched her lips.
If only you could hold my hand like this when you're awake.
The thought settled heavily inside her heart. She knew morning would come. He would let go. And everything would return to carefully drawn boundaries.
But for tonight she allowed herself this one silent moment. With her hand still safely trapped in his, Aprajita slowly closed her eyes.
Exhaustion finally claimed her.
Within minutes, she drifted into a peaceful sleep beside the man she loved.
Neither of them knew it. But somewhere between unconscious gestures and shared silence, the distance they had so carefully maintained had quietly become just a little smaller.
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