She shifted, pulling her dupatta tighter, as if that might restore order.
“He was reaching for a book. That’s it. A book. On a shelf. Above my head.”
A pause.
“From behind me.”
Her lips pressed together. “With absolutely no reason to stand that close while doing it.”
The flame did not react.
“There was space,” she went on, eyes narrowing. “There was distance. There were options. He used none of them.”
Still nothing.
“And fine,” she added, lifting a hand in mild exasperation, “let’s assume he has no awareness. None at all. He is simply a man who does not understand personal space.”
Silence stretched.
“But then,” she muttered, lowering her voice, “why did I stop breathing?”
She gestured toward herself. “I did not sign up for that. At no point did I agree to forget how lungs work because someone decided to take his time with a book.”
The goddess gave no reply.
“And when he stepped back…” she added, quieter now, “why did I notice that?”
Her hands dropped into her lap. “Why did it feel… different?”
She exhaled, sharper this time. “This is not efficient thinking, Maa. This is not useful. I have a Haveli to save.”
Another stretch of silence.
“And then there is Lakshya. I told Babuji I would consider him. He looked…” she searched for the right word, then shook her head, “…hopeful.”
She drew in a breath. “Lakshya is good. Sensible. He asks normal questions. He listens. He does not stand too close and rearrange my entire train of thought.”
She frowned. “That should count for something. That is a very strong, very stable quality.”
Neither the goddess, nor the flame offered any opinion.
She looked at them, almost accusing. “He is going to sell the Haveli. Or he is not. Either way, he leaves for Dubai. His life.”
Her voice steadied as she lined the facts up. “Everything here returns to normal.”
Normal? The word didn’t sit right.
“Maa,” she pleaded, softer now, “this is extremely inconvenient. Kindly fix it.”
Nothing. Of course.
Meera sighed and pushed herself to her feet. “Fine. Handle it yourself.”
She adjusted her dupatta, smoothed her kurta, and paused. “Eight o’clock.”
Heat rose up her cheeks. She turned and walked out, not looking back.
Chapter 18