Niharika Verma is a stunning semi-classical dancer who wants nothing more than to travel the world, but the shackles of her dreadful past keep her grounded. On the other end, Asia's well-known businessman and CEO of Rajvanshi Industries, "The Maanve...
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Niharika
I sat cross-legged on the carpeted floor of our room, surrounded by a scattered mess of toys, half-folded laundry, and my twins—my adorable little hurricanes, Noorakshi and Chirag. The soft hum of the heater barely masked the chaos in the room. Noor was tugging on Chirag’s toy car, her tiny face scrunched in frustration, while Chirag, ever the gentle soul, was on the verge of tears, clutching his favorite stuffed bunny as though it would protect him.
"Noor, leave your brother’s car!" I called out, my voice strained but patient. She glanced at me, her pout deepening, but let go of the car with a dramatic huff. Chirag immediately grabbed it and shuffled closer to me, seeking refuge.
“ Nool is mean, Mumma," he whispered, his big, innocent eyes glistening with unshed tears. I kissed the top of his head, pulling him into my lap. "She’s not mean, Chirag. She just loves teasing you," I said, though my own patience was wearing thin.
My eyes flickered to the clock on the wall. 9:45 PM. He should’ve been home by now. My heart felt heavier with each passing minute. I picked up my phone for what must have been the tenth time in the last half-hour and dialed Maan’s number again. Switched off.
A wave of frustration washed over me. Why would he turn his phone off? He’d gone for a meeting with foreign clients earlier in the day, and he’d promised to be back by dinner. But now, dinner was long over, the kids were cranky, and my anxiety was clawing at me.
"Where is your Dadda?" I muttered under my breath, running a hand through my disheveled hair.
"Mumma, Chiku boke my clon!"( Broke my crayon) Noor wailed suddenly, snapping me out of my thoughts. Chirag, wide-eyed and defensive, held the snapped crayon as if it were evidence against him.
"No, I didn’t! It was al-rea-dy like this!" he protested, his little voice quivering.
"Was not!" Noor countered, her tiny hands on her hips.
"Enough, both of you!" I snapped, my tone sharper than intended. Both of them froze, looking at me with startled eyes. Guilt settled in my chest instantly. They were just kids, and I was letting my stress spill over onto them.
I took a deep breath and softened my voice. "Come here, both of you." They shuffled closer, and I pulled them into my arms. "No more fighting, okay?Dadda will be home soon, and we’ll all be together. Let’s just be patient."
But even as I said it, my own patience was wearing thin. My mind raced with worst-case scenarios. What if something happened to him? What if he’s stuck somewhere without a way to call?
Chirag’s soft sniffles broke my thoughts. "Mu-mma, when will Dadda co-me? I miss him." His voice was so small, so vulnerable, that my heart ached. Noor, too, leaned into me, her usual mischief replaced by quiet worry.
I hugged them tighter. "Soon, baby," I whispered, though the reassurance felt hollow even to me.
The room felt suffocating, the air heavy with tension. The twins started to doze off in my arms, their little heads resting against my shoulders. As I rocked them gently, I stared at the clock, willing it to move faster, willing the front door to open and for him to walk in, his usual calm smile reassuring me that everything was fine.
