The Revenge Game

2-talks

"Maanvi, come here and meet Veenita Malhotra, my old college friend, and her husband, Agni Malhotra," my mother called out cheerfully, gesturing towards the guests who had just arrived

. Veenita aunty, a woman with a warm smile and sparkling eyes, wore a beautifully embroidered saree that caught the light as she moved. Agni uncle, tall and dignified, stood beside her in a crisp, well-tailored suit that spoke of understated elegance.

Despite my mother's animated introductions and the polite exchanges that followed, my mind drifted. The elders' conversation about their college days and mutual acquaintances seemed distant and unimportant. Instead, my curiosity was piqued by the young man who had arrived with them.

He stood slightly behind his parents, his presence magnetic. He was tall with a confident stance, his eyes sharp yet kind. As I stole glances at him, I couldn't help but imagine what it would be like if he were to be my future husband.

The mere thought sent a flutter of excitement through me, causing butterflies to dance in my stomach. My cheeks flushed slightly at the notion, and I quickly looked away, hoping no one noticed my sudden interest.

My mother, ever the gracious hostess, invited everyone to take a seat. "Please, make yourselves comfortable," she said, motioning towards the plush seating arrangements in our living room.

The room itself was a picture of elegance, with soft, ambient lighting casting a warm glow over the richly upholstered couches and carefully selected decor.

Veenita aunty and Agni uncle settled onto one of the large, inviting couches, their movements relaxed and familiar with our home. My mother and sister took their places on the opposite couch, engaging in light conversation with the guests.

This arrangement left an empty spot beside me on the third couch, and my heart skipped a beat as I realized that the young man would be sitting next to me.He began walking towards me, his movements smooth and confident. My heart pounded in my chest, the anticipation almost unbearable

As I watched him from across the room, my heart skipped a beat. He was tall, with a confident stride that exuded charm and charisma. His jet-black hair was styled effortlessly, framing his chiseled jawline, and his eyes sparkled with intelligence and kindness. Every movement he made seemed deliberate yet effortless, as if he were completely at ease in his own skin. And when he reached the couch I was sitting on, he took a seat next to me and smiled. It was as if the whole room lit up, his dimples deepening and his eyes crinkling at the corners. I couldn't help but check him out. Well, soon I would have the right to ogle at him for the rest of my life, so why not start right now? His attire was impeccable, a tailored suit hugging his lean frame perfectly. But it wasn't just his outward appearance that drew me in—it was the way he carried himself, with a quiet confidence and humility that spoke volumes about his character.

As I sat lost in my thoughts, the room around me felt calm and peaceful. The sound of people chatting softly and the gentle music in the background created a relaxed atmosphere. The gentle hum of conversation ebbed and flowed in the background, mingling with the soft melody drifting from the speakers in the corner. Rays of golden sunlight filtered through the lace curtains, painting intricate patterns of warmth upon the polished wooden floor.

But then, my mom cleared her throat loudly, snapping me out of my reverie. She gave me a stern look, silently telling me to go talk to the guy by myself.So, I gestured for him to follow me, and he nodded, his demeanor exuding an air of calm confidence as he fell into step beside me. Together, we navigated the maze of guests and furniture, making our way towards the sanctuary of my room.

As we crossed the threshold, a sense of anticipation hung heavy in the air, thickening with each step we took into the intimate space. I invited him to enter, holding the door open with a slight tremor in my hand. The room, bathed in the soft glow of afternoon sunlight, seemed to hold its breath in anticipation of our encounter.Turning to face him,