The Rathore's Family

Chapter -14

After classes ended, Prachika and I stood outside, chatting about random things. I reminded her multiple times that it was getting late.

She brushed off my concern with a laugh. "I'm not a minister; I don't have to be on time everywhere."

"Drishti," she called softly, placing her hand on my shoulder.

"Hmmm?" I hummed, turning to look at her.

Her expression shifted to something serious. "You didn't go for Pagpherea?"

I raised an eyebrow, a bitter taste rising in my mouth as memories flooded back. "Where should I go? My brother hates me. The day he got a proposal for my wedding, he accepted it without even asking me. It was like he just wanted to get rid of his responsibilities as quickly as possible. Since then, no one has even bothered to call me."

She squeezed my shoulder gently. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to hurt you. But it's a ritual."

"I... I know," I managed, my voice cracking. She smiled, her warmth lifting my spirits. "No problem! You can come to our home. We could go to Mom's house if you'd prefer."

I chuckled at her enthusiasm. "You really mean that?"

"Of course!" she replied, laughing along with me. I always felt grateful to have her beside me; perhaps I hadn't gained much in life, but her friendship was a treasure.

Our smiles faded as a car honked repeatedly nearby. We exchanged looks before glancing at the source of the noise.

"I think..." I began, but she cut me off.

"Itni speed se bolegi, tab hum yahi khade reh jayenge," she teased, flashing a mischievous grin before pulling me into a warm hug.

"By the way, I want to see Advait Singh Rathore from the front," she added, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

At this, I shot her a glare, feeling possessive. "Hmmm."

We both laughed and then went our separate ways.

I climbed into the car and settled into my seat. Advait started the engine and drove off, his grip on the steering wheel tight enough to make the veins on his hands stand out. I shifted my gaze to his face; he was as stoic as ever, jaw clenched, focused on the road.

Thirty minutes later, we arrived home. I glanced at him, searching for the courage to say something, but his silence left me quiet. I grabbed my bag and hopped out, avoiding his gaze.

As the car disappeared down the street, I muttered to myself, "Acche khase pati ko office bheja tha, phir phir badal kar pehle wala sada kaddu aa gaye." (I sent a good husband to the office, and he returned as a grumpy pumpkin.)

Entering the house, a sudden voice startled me, making my hand fly to my chest. I turned to see Vihaan, standing there with a mischievous grin, clearly amused by my reaction.

"You got scared!" he teased.

I smiled. "Scared me?" I pointed a finger at him. "Nohh, I was just checking my heart."

"Oh, really? Liar," he sang, making us both laugh.

"Enough of this! If you're done, let her go and change; she must be tired," my mother called from downstairs.

She approached me, her eyes warm. "How was your day?"

I smiled back. "It was as I thought... but I have to catch up on work since I'm two months behind."

She caressed my head. "Now go take some rest." I nodded and headed to my room.

Once inside, I dropped my bag on the sofa and went to the cupboard to grab some clothes to change into. I flopped onto the bed, savoring its softness after a tiring day.

Today, for the first time in a long while, I felt genuinely happy. I never thought I'd be able to join college, and to my surprise, Advait supported me. It was hard to believe he'd do that when my own brother never had. A smile crept onto my face. He may look grumpy, but perhaps he's not as bad as he seems. Maybe my bad days would soon be behind me, and I could finally have what I longed for—a family, someone who cares for me, someone afraid to lose me.

With that hopeful thought, my eyes grew heavy, and I drifted off to sleep, feeling a sense of peace I hadn't felt in a long time.

Later that night, I found myself sitting on the sofa, crisscrossing my legs and trying to study. "Trying" was the key word because my mind kept drifting to the clock—it was 11, and he still hadn't come home.

I muttered to myself, "Why did I say I'd eat later? Now my stomach is growling! If I don't fill it soon, the mice will take poison."

"Why are you chewing the pen? If you're hungry, go eat," a voice interrupted.

I rolled my eyes. He's finally home.

Reluctantly, I put the pen down and stood up, heading toward the changing room. I organized my scattered belongings on the sofa as he emerged, wearing a simple t-shirt and sweatpants. He looked good in anything.

He plopped onto the corner of the bed. "Your din..." I started nervously, but he cut me off with a stern, "I already did."

A wave of disappointment washed over me. I left the room without another word.

"Already did?" I mimicked under my breath. "Huh, aayein bade..."

I warmed my dinner and took it to the dining area, stuffing my face like I hadn't eaten in ages.

"It's all my fault for waiting for him," I muttered. "What was I thinking, Drishti? Just because he spoke to you nicely once doesn't mean he'll always be like that."

Frustration bubbled inside me as I continued eating. Suddenly, I heard his voice. "You were waiting for me?"

I glanced up briefly, then quickly focused on my plate again. He took a chair beside me and poured himself a glass of water.

"You didn't tell me," he said, his tone softer now, almost regretful.

Oh god, please disappear, I thought, feeling my face heat up with embarrassment. I scrambled for an excuse. "Wohh... W-ohh..."

"Hmmm, aage bhi hai iske kucch..." he interrupted.