A strange silence settled. Kavita’s fingers tapped lightly. Harshit’s jaw tightened. Vikram watched the showdown like a hawk.
“It sounds like you’ve made up your mind,” Kavita said at last, voice carefully neutral. “Though I must admit, Raghav, you’ve always been so logical, so thorough. To refuse even a glance at her biodata…”
Raghav felt a flicker of irritation. “I’ve already chosen. Ishani is everything I could want, and more.”
“Perhaps,” Harshit interjected, “but there are obligations. Family honor. The relationship with the Raos.”
Raghav’s eyes narrowed. “If you’re so keen on that match, maybe Vikram can marry their daughter.”
At this, Vikram choked on his water, coughing violently as it gurgled down the wrong way. His face went a very undignified shade of crimson.
“Are you all right?” Kavita hurried to pat his back.
“Fine!” Vikram croaked, tears in his eyes from laughing-coughing. “Just surprised by Big Brother’s generosity, offering me the rejected bride!”
“I’m not being generous,” Raghav said with a shrug. “I simply never agreed to this arrangement.”
“But we did,” Harshit said, voice firm. “On your behalf. And now you want to walk away without meeting them.”
Raghav recognized the familiar tactic of forcing you to prove your stance with action. He leaned forward. “Fine. I’ll meet them. I’ll tell them in person why I have no interest in this arrangement.”
Harshit allowed a small smile. “That’s the least you can do. Tomorrow at eleven, their house. We’ll meet the Rao family and you explain why you’re choosing your assistant over their daughter.”
Raghav clenched his jaw at the emphasis on “assistant,” but nodded. A half-hour obligation, and then he’d be free to claim Ishani openly, no more clandestine calls or whispered meetings.
“Now that’s settled,” Kavita said brightly. “Who wants dessert? Raspberry kulfi, your favorite, Raghav.”
Just then Pista leapt onto the table, looking up at Raghav with expectant eyes. The puppy’s soft whine stole everyone’s attention.
“By the way, why did you bring a puppy? And don’t dodge this time.” Kavita had asked this question dozens of times in the past few days.
But Raghav dodged, until today.
Because today, Raghav met their astonished gazes and smiled. “He’s a gift for Ishani.”
Silence. Then Harshit lowered his spoon, Kavita’s napkin fluttered to the table, Vikram’s jaw dropped as he sprang up from his chair.
“Gift…?” Vikram whispered, staggering as if he might faint.
“Exactly,” Raghav said, scooping Pista into his arms. “She loves dogs.”
Kavita clutched her pearls, Harshit’s eyes were as wide as saucers.
“Dinner’s been delightful,” Raghav said, heading for the door, Pista snuggled against him. “But I have some work to finish before tomorrow. Goodnight.”
Behind him Kavita sank back, still gasping for breath, Harshit wiped his forehead, Vikram pitched forward in a theatrical swoon.
As Raghav stepped into the hallway, he grinned, pressing Pista closer.
Tomorrow at eleven, he’d clear the path. And then, Ishani would be his, officially and joyfully, forever.
He didn’t hear the laughter tumbling after him.
Or his mother’s dainty chitters.
Or his father’s amused rumble.
Or Vikram’s high-pitched cackle.