My phone chimed, snapping me out of my thoughts. The screen was flooded with notifications, wishes for my first wedding anniversary. I felt a pang of bitterness. This marriage wasn't a romance; it was a deal. It had been three and a half months since I’d last heard from Saurav. That was the last call I heard from him. I wondered if the date had even crossed his mind.
“Maybe we should go out for dinner to celebrate your first wedding anniversary,” Mr. Chauhan suggested, taking a slow sip of his coffee.
“I forgot to mention, Mr. Sisodiya invited us to his grandmother’s birthday dinner tonight,” I reminded him.
He beamed at the name. “That’s wonderful. Go on then, get ready. We’re dining with the Sisodiyas.”
I gave him a tight smile and headed upstairs. My WhatsApp was a rainstorm of congratulatory messages, but not one was from the man I actually loved. He didn't seem to care if I was dead or alive. It stung, but I scolded myself for wasting tears on a husband who wasn't there.
I chose a lavender satin saree and a sleeveless blouse, straightening my hair and keeping my makeup minimal to look elegant. When I stepped downstairs, Mr. Chauhan was waiting.
“Perfect,” he complimented, and I felt a rare blush creep up my neck.
The drive to the outskirts took thirty minutes. Abhiraj had sent the coordinates for one of his lakeside restaurants as it was a stunning, moonlit spot I’d never visited before.
The evening was surprisingly warm. I started by seeking a blessing from Abhiraj’s grandmother, touching her feet. She was wonderful, talking to me as if we’d been friends for a lifetime. She had the same sharp wit as her grandson, but without the arrogance.
“I’ve heard so much about you from Abhiraj,” she said, cutting a glance toward him. “It’s rare for him to mention a woman at all.”
“He probably told you all my bad habits, didn't he?” I teased, reaching for a paneer pakoda.
“Actually, he talks about you like you’re the best business deal he ever landed.” Grandma laughed, winking at Abhiraj, who looked genuinely annoyed.
For the first time in months, I actually enjoyed myself. We laughed until our sides ached. Even Mr. Chauhan’s stern face softened into something affectionate. By the time we finished, my father-in-law was exhausted. He fell asleep in the back of the car almost as soon as Abhiraj offered to drive us home.
“We could have just taken a cab,” I whispered as we drove through the dark. The chilly night air rushing through the window reminded me of a date night with Saurav. My heart wrenched. He didn't care. He never would.
“It’s 11:30. It's too risky for a cab,” Abhiraj said, glancing at me. “Thanks, by the way.”
“For what?”
“For making my grandmother’s day.”
I grinned. “I think she’s the one who made mine.”
He pulled into the villa’s roundabout and killed the engine. I unbuckled my seatbelt and got out. Before I could wake Mr. Chauhan, Abhiraj stepped toward me.
“I have something for you,” he said, producing a small velvet box. “Happy anniversary, Kavya.”
My breath caught. “Abhiraj… what is this?”
“Open it.”
Inside was a delicate figurine of Natraj.
“You’re an incredible dancer, and I know you're a devotee of Shiva,” he said softly. “I thought of you when I saw it.”
The thoughtfulness of the gift and the fact that he remembered the anniversary my own husband had ignored hit me hard. Overwhelmed, I stepped forward and hugged him. He hesitated for a second, then wrapped his arms securely around my waist.
“You can’t be this good to me, Abhiraj,” I murmured into his shoulder.
“Okay,” he whispered. “I thought you’d...”
Thud.
We both froze. A suitcase lay on the pavement. Standing a few feet away was Saurav. He was still in his uniform, looking like he’d rushed straight from a shift, out of breath and disheveled. His eyes were fixed on Abhiraj’s hand, which was resting on my waist.
I scrambled back, feeling like I’d been caught in a crime. “Saurav…”