Exactly an hour later, Maithili stepped out of the house. She wore a simple yet elegant kurta in soft pastel hues, her hair neatly pulled back and secured with a delicate clutch.

Just then, a sleek black Mercedes-Benz pulled up to the gate. Behind the wheel, Abhiram leaned over to push open the passenger door, flashing his signature half-smile as he saw her.
Maithili slipped in, adjusting her seatbelt. In her hands was a small box, which she gently placed on his lap.

He looked down, then at her. “What’s this?”

She smiled. “Ma made aloo parathas. You once said you like them, so I brought some—for you and Myra.”

He opened the lid curiously, picked up a piece, and took a bite. His eyes closed as he savoured it. “Mmm... it’s so good. Just... yummy.”

Maithili laughed softly. “I’ll tell Ma.”

“They’re amazing,” he said, taking another bite as he started the car.

“This morning,” she said softly, “when I got the call, I thought it was you.”

He laughed lightly, adjusting the steering with one hand. “I was in a meeting. Ma used my phone. When I came out, she casually informed me that I’d be picking you up.”

Maithili shook her head, amused. “I told her to send me the location. I could’ve come myself.”

“And miss a chance to pick you up?” Abhiram teased, glancing at her. “No way.”

She raised her eyebrows slightly, half-grinning. “You have meetings this early?”

“Not early. It was an international call,” he said. “Time zones don’t wait for anyone.”

The conversation drifted gently between them, like a soft current, while instrumental music played quietly in the background.

“So,” Maithili asked after a moment, “where exactly are we headed?”

“To the designer studio,” Abhiram replied. “Mrs. Uma Khanna—my mom’s close friend is helping with the outfits. Even though the wedding’s simple, Mom wants to add her touches. So she arranged a few options for you.”

Maithili smiled. “That’s really thoughtful of her.”

Abhiram smiled too, eyes still on the road.

After a few minutes of driving through the quiet lanes, Abhiram glanced sideways, his voice low and gentle. “So… all good? You seem quiet.”

Maithili gave a faint smile, “All good,” she said, but her voice lacked its usual ease.

He nodded. “By the way, you didn’t reply to my message last night. Did you like Auntie’s room? Be honest.”

She looked out the window. “It’s beautiful,” she said softly.

“Great. After shopping, let’s go furniture hunting. I thought of setting everything up, but I figured you’d want to choose what suits aunty.”

She turned to him, eyes warm. “Your choices are already lovely. Just like the room.”

Still, he said gently, “I want it perfect—for Aunty. She should feel at home.”

His sincerity caught her off guard. A lump formed in her throat. She turned away, blinking fast. It had come on too suddenly.

Composing herself, she turned back to him with a tight smile. “Let’s... pause this for now.”

He frowned. “Pause what?”

She sighed, the weight in her voice unmistakable. “Ma… she doesn’t want to come with me.”

He looked at her, confused. “Why?”

“Not now, Abhiram. Please. After shopping.”

He nodded and gently placed his hand over hers for a moment before returning it to the wheel.

That small gesture said more than words.

They drove in silence, and by the time they reached the designer’s studio—a restored bungalow behind flowering bougainvillea—Maithili had composed herself.

“You sure?” Abhiram asked. “We can come tomorrow.”

She shook her head. “We don’t have much time left. Let’s go.”

Inside, the studio was charming—vintage chandeliers, tiled floors, pastel silks.

Just by the entrance, Amrutha and Rajesh were waiting.

“There she is,” Amrutha beamed, pulling Maithili into a warm hug. Maithili greeted them both with polite affection.

She glanced around. “Didn’t Myra come?”

Amrutha laughed softly. “No, she stayed over at Richa’s place last night. She’s still there.”

Maithili nodded, smiling.

A moment later, a poised woman in a crisp cotton saree entered with effortless grace and a professional air.

“Uma!” Amrutha called “Maithili, meet Uma my dear friend and the magician behind our family’s wardrobe. Uma, this is Maithili Abhiram’s bride-to-be.”

Uma smiled broadly and stepped forward, enveloping Maithili in a warm hug. “Lovely to finally meet you, Maithili. I’ve heard so much from Amrutha.”

Maithili hugged her back gently. “Nice to meet you too, Mrs. Khanna.”

Uma chuckled. “Please, just Uma. Now, I’ve arranged a few outfits I think you might like. No pressure there’s plenty more if nothing clicks.”

Assistants wheeled out racks of soft pastel sarees, embroidered lehengas, and vibrant silks.

Maithili explored quietly while the others settled into plush couches. Abhiram gave her space but watched her with quiet attention.

She finally chose two sarees: a soft pastel one Abhiram gently suggested for the court ceremony, and a rich red bhandhini for the temple wedding.

“Excellent eye,” Uma said. “Beautiful taste.”

Maithili smiled, fingers brushing the pallu of the red saree.

Once measurements were noted and selections packed, they stood to leave.

“Thank you, Mrs. Khanna,” Maithili said. “This was... lovely.”

“You made it lovelier, dear,” Uma replied with a squeeze of her hand.

Outside, as they walked to the car, Abhiram asked, “Hungry?”

Maithili smiled faintly. “Starving.”

“There’s a quiet spot not far from here. Great food, no crowd.”

A short drive later, they reached a rooftop restaurant hidden behind ivy and shaded by white drapes. The view stretched across city rooftops, softened by golden light.

Maithili sighed as she sat down. “It’s so quiet… I can’t believe we’re still in the city.”

Abhiram smiled. “That’s the point.”

A warm middle-aged couple greeted them—the restaurant owners, clearly familiar with Abhiram.

“This is Maithili,” he said, introducing her.

They greeted her warmly, even asking about Myra.

“That’s the idea,” he said. “And I hope you don’t mind I took the liberty to order their specials. I just really wanted you to try them.”

She smiled. “No problem at all. I trust your taste.”

He laughed. Myra she loves the noodles here. And, uh… this is where I bring her when she’s mad at me. Works every time.”

Maithili’s face lit up. “Really? That’s adorable. It would’ve been nice if she were here.”

Abhiram’s voice softened. “Let’s bring her next time. After our wedding. You, me, and her—together.”

Maithili met his gaze. The tension that had clung to her all morning seemed to ebb away, replaced by something gentler, warmer.

Their conversation faded into a thoughtful silence.

After a pause, Maithili looked down at her hands. “This morning was hard,” she admitted softly. “I thought I’d be okay… but some things just stay heavy, you know?”

She paused again, then told him softly, but openly about the conversation with her mother the night before, and again that morning. She didn’t elaborate too much, but the emotional weight of it lingered in her tone.

Abhiram didn’t interrupt. He just listened; then gently, he reached across the table and placed his hand over hers.

“I can’t promise to change the world overnight, Maithili,” he said, voice low but firm. “But I do promise—no one will speak to you or to her without respect. And if they do… they’ll answer to me.”

A tear rolled down her cheek. She wiped it quickly, trying to smile through it.

“She said she’ll come,” she whispered. “Just… not now. She asked for time.”

Abhiram nodded. “Then we’ll give her that. Whatever she needs.”

Maithili took a deep breath. The air seemed fresher, the sunlight softer. “Thank you.”

He tilted his head. “For what?”

“For listening. For standing beside me. For not making me choose.”

Abhiram’s expression turned tender. “There’s no choice to be made, Maithili. You and your mother—you’re the same story. I just hope I get to be a good chapter in it.”

Maithili leaned slightly toward him, her shoulder brushing his. She rested there for a moment, letting the stillness fill her.

“You already are,” she whispered.

He turned, just a little, brushing a strand of hair from her face. His fingers lingered at her cheek, then gently traced the line of her jaw.

Their eyes locked—quiet, deep, unhurried.

She didn’t pull away.

And in that moment, something shifted. Not loudly. Not suddenly. Just a soft understanding between two hearts slowly moving toward each other.

The food arrived then steaming, fragrant, served in rustic ceramic bowls. Maithili took her first bite, her eyes widening in delight.

“Oh wow,” she said with genuine surprise. “This is… amazing.”

“Told you,” Abhiram grinned. “Best food, best peace.”

She took another bite, groaning softly. “Oh my god. This is insanely good.”

Abhiram chuckled. “I accept compliments on behalf of the chef.”

As they ate, the laughter returned.