An Arranged Journey To Forever

118

As Nyonika placed the shopping bags inside the car, she turned to Nandini.

"Nandini, I was thinking—let's stop by the restaurant first before heading home. I need to drop off these bags. Will you come along?"

"Of course, Mamma. In fact, I was going to suggest we go home for a while," Nandini replied with a small smile. Though she had visited the Malhotra Mansion before, it had always felt empty in the absence of Nyonika and Raj.

"Take Suman along if you'd like. She can see both the restaurant and the house," Nyonika suggested. She had noticed how Suman's only company was Nandini, and she would surely get bored otherwise.

"Yeah, that sounds good," Nandini agreed before heading upstairs to grab her phone and handbag.

As she descended the staircase, her phone rang.

"Hello?" she answered.

"Mamma, what are you doing?" Amayra's chirpy voice came through.

"I'm on my way to Malhotra Mansion with dadi, baby. Did you eat something?" Nandini asked.

"Yes! Dad got me pasta from the cafeteria," Amayra said happily.

"Tell her we'll come there directly," Manik whispered in the background, unaware that Nandini had heard him.

"Tell your dad to talk to me directly, Amayra," she said, stepping into the car as Manik mentally cursed himself.

Taking the phone from Amayra, Manik tried to sound nonchalant. "You could've just called me if you wanted to talk, Nandini."

"Oh, please, Mr. Malhotra. Just take care of Amayra and make sure you eat something," she quipped as Suman got into the car, and they followed Nyonika's.

"Are you still mad at me?" Manik asked hesitantly.

"No, I'm not. Just bring me those pastries from MH Lane," she said, making Manik chuckle. This was how they always made up. Like she had once told Suman—no matter how long the fights lasted, they were forgotten as soon as they started talking again.

"Cute," Suman murmured with amusement.

"You don't handle the restaurants anymore, do you?" Suman asked.

"I do, but Mamma oversees most of it. I step in for major decisions or when my signature is needed since she refused to be the legal owner," Nandini explained.

When they arrived at the restaurant, the staff was overjoyed to see Nandini. Aunt Mary, among others, welcomed her warmly, making her feel right at home. After wrapping up things there, they finally headed to Malhotra Mansion.

"Nandini, show Suman around while I settle these things," Nyonika instructed as the staff carried the bags inside.

"Give me a minute, Suman. I'll get you something," Nandini said.

"Oh, please! Don't go into full 'bahu mode' now. Just show me your house! It's absolutely stunning," Suman gushed, admiring the elegant interiors—the furniture, the intricate carpets, the exquisite architecture, and the grand chandelier that graced the center of the hall.

As they walked through the mansion, Suman was beginning to understand why the Malhotras were known for their refined taste. Everything was simple, yet breathtakingly elegant.

"And this is my favorite spot," Nandini said, sitting on the swing in the balcony. "If there's one thing I miss from London, it's this place."

Suman smiled, nostalgia settling in. "Of course! You've always been a swing girl. Do you remember how we used to tie ropes around the neem tree back in Mangalore with a wooden slab in the center?"

"Yes! The same swing I fell from and got hurt really badly," Nandini laughed.

"But it's not just about the swing. This place is special. It has everything I love—the sea view, the perfect spot to sleep under the stars, the gentle winds whispering secrets, the irreplaceable vibe... It has witnessed so much," she said wistfully. "Our fights, our reconciliations, our deepest conversations—this place has seen every shade of us."

"Wow, that's too deep for me to understand. But it sounds beautiful," Suman admitted, awestruck.

"You'll get it when you fall in love," Nandini chuckled, getting up. "Now, let's go see our room."

Upon entering, Suman's gaze immediately landed on a set of three framed pictures above the bed's headrest.

"Oh my God! That is so adorable!" she exclaimed.

The pictures captured a moment where Manik was seemingly instructing Nandini on how to walk properly.

"What's the story behind this?" Suman asked curiously.

Nandini turned around, smiling at the memory. "It was from our trip to Lonavala. Clumsy me, I hurt myself."

Manik's voice echoed in her head. "Nandini, walk properly! It's slippery here too!" he had warned while holding her arms.

Ironically, moments later, Manik himself slipped, and Nandini had to grab his arm just in time. The whole family had burst into laughter as the moment was captured.

"We didn't know we were creating memories," she murmured, running a hand over the frames.

Suman watched her cousin with admiration. She knew she was only privy to the beautiful moments of their relationship. There must have been struggles—arguments, silent nights, unspoken conflicts. Relationships were never easy. They required patience, effort, and unwavering commitment. She wondered if she would ever find someone who could be her Manik.

"Mamma!" Amayra's voice called from downstairs, pulling Suman from her thoughts.

They went down to find Amayra excitedly narrating her day—how everyone had welcomed her to the office, the new friends she had made, and how her father had gifted her a Hot Wheels set.

As they moved to the lawn, Nandini leaned on Manik's shoulder while the elders conversed with Suman. The evening breeze was crisp, the sky heavy with thick clouds. Manik scooted closer, dropping a soft kiss on her hair just as the first raindrop landed on her cheek, followed by another and another.

"It's raining! Let's go inside," Nyonika said, gathering the cups of tea.

As the family retreated indoors, Manik got up, but Nandini remained seated, gazing at him. He knew that look.

With a small smirk, he pulled her up, stepping into the rain with her. The drops drenched them, but they didn't care. Rain had always been special to them.

It was a rainy evening in London when they had first found out about Amayra. There were no grand gestures—just pure, raw joy. They had danced, they had kissed, lost in the moment. And now, five years later, they stood under the rain again, hands entwined, hearts full.

"Happy first rain, Nandini," Manik whispered, kissing her deeply.

"To you too, Manik," she replied, placing his hand over her belly, just as she had all those years ago.

This time, it was Mumbai. But the love? That remained the same—timeless and infinite.