Sarita noticed. “Good.”
She settled more comfortably. “You should also know that Anand men are… not simple.”
Meera blinked.
“Possessive,” Sarita counted on her fingers. “Overwhelming. Convinced of their own logic. Incapable of doing anything in moderation.”
A pause.
“Rajendra once bought an entire flower market because I mentioned I liked dahlias.”
Meera stared at her.
“The whole market,” Sarita repeated. “Not a bouquet. Not a garden. The market. We could not find the furniture for three days.”
A laugh escaped Meera before she could stop it. Small at first, then brighter, free.
Sarita watched, pleased. “So you see what you would be dealing with.”
“I think I have an idea,” Meera managed, breath uneven.
“You have more than an idea.” Sarita’s tone softened. “You may be the only person who has stopped him mid-sentence. Naina has been reporting everything. According to her, you are the only one who tells him no and walks away without reconsidering.”
Meera pressed her lips together, trying and failing to suppress another laugh.
Sarita’s expression warmed further. “She is not wrong. I have been watching. Each time you hold your ground, he changes. A little. He does not know what to do with you. No one has ever refused him. You do.”
Meera turned her face aside, her shoulders shaking.
“Naina,” Sarita continued, calm, “has also informed me that you are, in her exact words, perfect for her brother. You are not intimidated by him, you care for the Haveli, and you laugh at his jokes even when he does not realise he is making them.”
Meera covered her face, laughter slipping through her fingers.
When she lowered her hands, her eyes shone.
Sarita watched for a moment, satisfied. “There. That is better.”
The air in the room eased. The weight remained, though it no longer pressed.
“He wants to speak with you.” The words came out simply. “Alone. He believes you should hear everything from him.”
Meera’s eyes dropped again, her fingers twisting her dupatta.
“Would you meet him?”
Meera closed her eyes for a moment. Rain. His voice. His hand at her face. The way he had held her.
Her breath deepened.
“Yes.” The word came quietly. “I will.”
Sarita’s hand covered hers. “Good.”
She rose.
At the door, she paused and turned back once. “Take your time. And Meera… this home has always been open to you.”
The door closed behind her.