Rhythms of the Heart ✅

42

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The warm glow of the dining room chandelier bathed the table in a comforting light as the Agarwal family and the Oberois gathered for dinner. Mr. Agarwal inquired about Neel's health, a note of concern in his voice.

"He's much better, thank you," Mrs. Oberoi replied. "He'll join us for dinner after freshening up."

Malang's mother, ever the gracious hostess, chimed in. "Malang's fever has subsided as well. I made some lighter fare for him to eat." A warm smile graced her lips as she expressed her gratitude to the Oberois for their kindness.

Meanwhile, Sanjana peeked into Malang's room. Finding him fast asleep, she noticed tear stains drying on his cheeks. "Did you cry?" she asked gently, her concern evident. Malang, still caught in the emotional turmoil of Neel's reappearance, quickly dismissed it with a mumbled "No, bhabhi. Just going to shower."

Soon, Malang entered the dining room, his eyes widening in surprise at the sight of Mrs. Oberoi. A flicker of recognition crossed her face too, a memory struggling to surface.

"Malang beta," Mrs. Oberoi introduced herself with a smile, "This is Neel's mother. He fell ill, so we decided it would be best for them to stay here."

A pang of concern shot through Malang, quickly masked by a neutral expression. He offered a polite greeting, careful not to reveal the storm brewing within him.

Just then, Neel entered the room. Their eyes met, locking in a silent exchange that spoke volumes. The air crackled with unspoken emotions.

Mr. Agarwal, oblivious to the tension, addressed Neel with warmth. "Neel beta, are you feeling better now? Call me uncle, please."

A faint smile touched Neel's lips as he nodded in agreement. Veer, sensing the awkwardness, stepped in. "Neel, you haven't met Malang during the party, have you? This is Malang, my little brother, the future heir to Agarwal Industries."

Both Neel and Malang remained fixed on each other for a moment, their gazes a silent conversation. The silence was broken by Mrs. Oberoi's sudden realization.

"Oh yes, I remember!" she exclaimed, a spark of recognition lighting her eyes. "Malang beta, I saw you at that dance competition! You studied at the same academy in Mumbai with Neel and Rihana, right? You performed with my daughter, that's why I felt like I knew you from somewhere."

Malang stole a glance at his father, bracing himself for his reaction. Mr. Agarwal, caught off guard, mumbled a surprised confirmation.

Unfazed, Mrs. Oberoi continued, her voice filled with admiration. "You performed so well, Malang! Everyone was praising your graceful movements. And if I'm not mistaken, you even won first prize!"

A wave of pride washed over Mrs. Agarwal, her heart swelling with happiness for her son's talent being acknowledged.

Veer, too, beamed with pride, seeing his brother praised for his passion.

Mr. Agarwal, however, felt a pang of discomfort. While secretly proud of his son's talent, he couldn't bring himself to accept music as a viable career path for Malang. Needing to deflect the conversation, he interjected with a dismissive comment about the competition's difficulty.

This is where Neel, surprising everyone, stepped in. "Uncle," he said, directing his words towards Mr. Agarwal, "I was also part of that competition, and I witnessed how amazing Malang was on stage. Knowing he didn't have any prior training makes his performance even more impressive. Malang, you truly have a natural talent."

Neel's sincere words, spoken with a genuine desire to acknowledge Malang's skill, pierced through the tension in the room. Malang felt a surge of gratitude, a flicker of warmth replacing the coldness he had initially felt towards Neel.

Mr. Agarwal, caught between pride for his son's talent and his own reservations about music as a career, remained silent. However, he couldn't deny the appreciation blossoming in his heart for Neel's kind words.

The conversation shifted, and soon everyone was engaged in lively discussion. Mrs. Oberoi's enthusiasm proved contagious, and the rest of the evening unfolded in a more relaxed atmosphere. Despite the underlying tension between Neel and Malang, a small seed of hope had been planted. The future remained uncertain, but the night had brought a new layer of understanding and a glimmer of reconciliation.
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The clinking of dishes subsided, signaling the end of dinner. The warmth of shared meals and lively conversations began to wane as everyone drifted towards their respective rooms. Neel, his heart pounding with a mixture of anxiety and hope, lingered behind. He desperately wanted to talk to Malang, to unravel the tangled threads of their past.

But just as he gathered the courage to approach him, Malang excused himself and disappeared upstairs. Disappointment gnawed at Neel. With a heavy sigh, he headed to the guest room assigned to him.

Sleep, however, remained elusive. Memories of the day – the stolen glances across the room, the warmth in Malang's eyes when he acknowledged his dance talent – swirled in his mind. Finally, unable to contain his yearning any longer, Neel decided to take a chance.

He crept out of bed, his movements silent as a shadow. Tiptoeing down the hallway, he stopped in front of what he assumed was Malang's room. Just as he was about to raise his hand to knock, a figure emerged from the darkness.

"Neel? What are you doing up at this hour?" Sanjana's voice, laced with a hint of suspicion, shattered the quiet of the night.

Neel froze, caught red-handed. His mind raced for a believable explanation.  "Uh, I was just… looking for the kitchen," he stammered, his voice betraying his nerves.  "I, uh, got thirsty."

Sanjana's gaze narrowed, her skepticism evident. Despite the late hour, her eyes were bright, as if she'd been expecting this very encounter.  Neel, under her scrutiny, felt a bead of sweat trickle down his temple.

"The kitchen?" she echoed, her voice devoid of warmth. "Well, come on then," she said, gesturing for him to follow. "I'll get you some water."

Neel, with no other option, trailed behind her. As they walked to the kitchen, he stole a glance at Sanjana's profile. Gone was the friendly smile and warmth he'd seen earlier.  Now, her expression was a mask of barely contained anger.

Reaching the kitchen, Neel gulped down a glass of water, his thirst a mere excuse for his presence.  He placed the glass back on the counter, his voice barely a whisper as he mumbled a thank you.

Sanjana, however, wasn't finished. Before he could turn and leave, she blocked his path, her voice steely.

"You know Malang, don't you?" she asked, her words laced with accusation.

Neel, caught off guard, could only manage a hesitant nod.

"And you know why he left, why he cried tonight?" Sanjana pressed, her eyes boring into his.

Neel's confusion deepened. "I… I don't know what you're talking about," he stammered. "I never hurt Malang. In fact, I've been searching for him ever since he disappeared. He just… vanished.  I never knew anything about his background or his family."

Sanjana's gaze softened slightly.  A flicker of doubt crossed her face, but it was quickly replaced by a flicker of something else – a glint of hope.

"You knew about Rihana's intentions, didn't you?" she asked, her voice calmer now but still laced with suspicion. "You knew about her plan?"

Neel flinched. Riya's betrayal, a dark stain on his past, came rushing back. "I… i i knew i tried to stop her bu-but," he admitted, his voice laced with shame. "But before I could  even apologize… he was gone."

Sanjana studied him for a long moment, her sharp eyes seemingly trying to pierce his soul. 

Would she believe him? 

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  The answer, hanging in the air, was as uncertain as the future.