Miss Shetty and Mr Gupta

~Chapter 28~

ISHA'S POV 

I came back home early last night. Rishi quietly dropped me off and left without much conversation. We didn't talk much after yesterday's... moment.

In my defense, it was because I couldn't stop thinking about the possibility that Rishi and I could be more than friends. What if he didn't see me that way? Maybe he just thought of me as a friend, a bestie—or, worst of all, a sister. The thought alone made me cringe. The fear of ruining our beautiful friendship, the years of memories, and the bond we shared gnawed at me. Confronting him felt like walking a tightrope. If I asked him how he felt, what if he laughed it off and said I was nothing more than a friend? The idea of hearing those words—it would crush me. My heart wouldn't survive it.

I tried meditating to clear my head, but it was useless. Rishi had taken over my thoughts entirely. Frustrated, I got up, rolled up my yoga mat, and placed it on the rack.

The view from the balcony was serene. Our backyard, sprawling with green fields, flowers scattered here and there, and tall trees lining the edges, brought a sense of calm. In the middle of it all, a cozy sofa sat under the rising sun.

I grabbed my phone, snapped a few pictures of the dawn, and tried to focus on the beauty of the moment—but my mind kept drifting back to Rishi. What were we, really?

An hour later, the most heavenly aroma of sizzling spices wafted through the house, dragging me out of my bedroom. I stumbled towards the kitchen, expecting the usual empty silence. Instead, I was greeted by a sight that made my jaw drop.

There stood Rishi, sporting a full chef's attire – apron, hat, the whole shebang. He seemed to have freshened up at his place before returning, and now he was... cooking? My curiosity piqued, I shuffled closer to see what culinary masterpiece he was whipping up.

A strangled laugh escaped my lips as I saw the familiar yellow packet staring back at me. Yep, Rishi, the newfound hero who just saved me from a boring Sunday morning, was making... Maggi. The most basic, instant noodle concoction known to humankind.

Unable to resist, I snatched the chef's hat from his head, eliciting a bewildered look from him. "Seriously, Rishi?" I teased, "All that drama for Maggi?"

He sheepishly scratched his head. Maybe he wasn't the master chef I'd envisioned in my sleepy stupor.

Taking pity on his valiant (and slightly egotistical) attempt, I retreated to the bathroom for a quick freshening up. Returning to the dining area, I found two steaming bowls of Maggi waiting for us. We sat down, the silence momentarily comfortable as we slurped down our noodles.

Honestly, the house suddenly felt stifling. The day stretched before me, empty and devoid of excitement. I yearned to break free from these four walls, to do anything, go anywhere, as long as it wasn't here.

Steeling myself, I looked at Rishi, a determined glint in my eyes. "Today, we're getting out of here," I declared. "Anywhere but home. Let's go explore, have an adventure – anything! Just get me out of this house!"

Rishi's eyes widened in surprise, then a slow smile spread across his face.

................................................

As we scrolled through endless travel destinations on our phones, the air crackled with anticipation. Suddenly, I blurted out, "Hey, why don't we go to the Birla Mandir?"

Rishi glanced at me, a playful smile on his face. "Whatever you say, Ranigaru," he replied, using a playful nickname.

I raised an eyebrow and gave him a knowing look, the kind our moms give when we need to get ready and leave. He understood immediately, his playful expression fading.

"Okay, I'm leaving to get ready. You can stay home if you want," I said, with a hint of annoyance in my voice.

I was about to stand up from the sofa when he grabbed my arm, his cold hand sending shivers down my spine. I turned to face him, his mischievous eyes sparkling.