Only Yours (On Hold)

1 : The Return

A grand mansion stood in the heart of Dehradun, surrounded by a breathtaking garden filled with lush greenery. Towering trees swayed gently with the cold morning breeze, and vibrant flowers adorned the pathways. The air was filled with the sweet chirping of birds, creating a peaceful and relaxing atmosphere.

As the sun began its slow ascent, its golden rays streamed through the windows of a large room, illuminating the space where a young woman lay asleep. Her room was in disarray-books, notes, and pens scattered across the table and bed, a clear indication that she had spent the night studying.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, and a middle-aged woman entered. With a firm yet gentle hand, she pulled the curtains aside, allowing the sunlight to flood the room.

"Insha bitiya, uth jao," she called softly.

(Insha, child, wake up.)

The young woman groaned, pulling the blanket over her face to shield herself from the intrusive light. The older woman, unfazed, tugged at the blanket again.

"Mam has ordered me to wake you up," she added, her voice tinged with amusement.

Still unwilling to leave the comfort of her bed, Insha turned to the other side, mumbling in a sleepy voice, "Ahh, Seema Aunty, please let me sleep a little longer."

The woman-Seema-was the mansion's trusted housekeeper. She was around forty-five years old and had been working for the Rajput family for years. She knew Insha well, having practically raised her alongside the Rajput children.

Seema sighed and tried a different approach. "Madam said that Yasir Baba is returning today. He will be here in an hour."

The words struck Insha like a bolt of lightning. Her eyes snapped open, and she sat up in shock.

"What?!" she exclaimed, her drowsiness disappearing instantly.

The soft morning sunlight bathed her face, making her honey-colored eyes gleam. Her warm, light brown skin glowed like polished gold under the sunlight. Her long, black, silky hair cascaded down her back, slightly tousled from sleep. Her soft pink lips parted in surprise, completing the picture of effortless beauty.

Without wasting another second, Insha threw the blanket off and rushed toward the bathroom. A short while later, she emerged, now dressed in a peach-colored salwar suit. She carefully draped a matching dupatta over her shoulders before standing in front of the mirror.

She applied a thin line of kajal to her eyes, enhancing their natural depth. Then, opening a drawer, she pulled out a beige-colored scarf and wrapped it securely around her head as a hijab. Finally, she put on her glasses and took one last glance at her reflection before heading downstairs.

As she stepped into the grand dining area, her gaze fell upon a man and a woman seated at the table, enjoying their morning tea. She took a seat, her expression neutral, as the man greeted her.

"Good morning, Insha," he said with a warm smile.
She sipped her tea before replying flatly, "Bad morning."

The woman raised an eyebrow. "Why? Did something bad happen?" she asked, amused.

Insha exhaled heavily. "Seema Aunty told me that he is coming today," she said with a dramatic sigh.

The woman chuckled. "Why? Don't you want my son to come home?" she teased.
Insha looked up and smiled slightly. "No, Aunty, it's not like that. But you should have told me earlier."

The man, who had been quietly observing the exchange, nodded in agreement. "She's right. Anyone would be a little upset if given such short notice."

The man was Abuzar Rajput, a well-known businessman in his prime, and the woman was Rahima, his wife, a devoted homemaker. Today was a special day for them-their eldest son, Yasir Rajput, was returning home after eleven long years. He had been in Australia, establishing his business, and now he was finally coming back.