KAYAMATH (ON HOLD)

Chapter 26

I moved through my days mechanically, as if on autopilot. Morning after morning, I woke up, dressed, went to work, and returned home. ‘Home’—the word itself felt foreign. Did I even have one?

The house I was born in, the house I grew up in, was taken away from us long ago. And then, when I was older, Papa brought me to Shergill House and declared, “From now on, this is your home.” But how could it be? No matter how many years I lived there, it never felt like mine. The people there never let it feel like home either.

And now? Now, I was staying at Kanika’s house. The day Neev left for his overseas work trip, Kanika insisted I move in with her. She said it was better than staying alone, and I agreed, if only to avoid the unbearable situation at Shergill House.

After all, Ayesha had moved in there. Niharika Aunty had personally ensured it, declaring that her future daughter-in-law would not stay in a hotel but in their home, where she could help with the wedding preparations. The mere thought of being there, surrounded by the sounds and sights of Neev and Ayesha’s wedding preparations, was enough to suffocate me. Staying at Kanika’s house felt like a reprieve, a temporary escape.

But God had other plans.

One day, Niharika Aunty called me. Her voice was warm and sugary, a tone that always put me on edge. She asked—no, demanded—that I help Ayesha with her wedding shopping. Ayesha, she claimed, had specifically requested my assistance. The absurdity of it all left me speechless. Why would Ayesha, an international model with a professional team at her disposal, need my help?

Still, despite my protests and reluctance, I found myself tagging along like an assistant. I carried her bags, offered opinions she dismissed, and watched as she purchased whatever her heart desired. The entire ordeal felt like an exercise in humiliation. I couldn’t understand her motives. Was she genuinely clueless about how this affected me? Or was this her way of asserting dominance, of twisting the knife?

The worst part was seeing Neev with her—walking hand in hand, shopping, meeting with people and utterly oblivious to my pain. Every moment spent in their presence was a quiet form of torture, and by the end of the day, I was both emotionally and physically drained.

As if that weren’t enough, a new mystery had entered my life.

Every morning since that fateful night, a bouquet of flowers had appeared at my door. Not just any flowers, but a carefully curated collection—roses of various colors, each more vibrant than the last. Yellow, white, orange, burgundy, purple, and always, without fail, a single blue rose.

Each flower seemed to whisper something. Yellow for friendship. White for innocence. Orange for fascination. Burgundy for devotion. Purple for passion and infatuation. And the blue rose… the symbol of the unattainable.

Every day, I debated leaving the bouquet where it lay, but the sheer beauty of the flowers always stopped me. They were too lovely to discard, and their fragrance was intoxicating. I didn’t know who was sending them or why. Was it Neev, attempting to make amends? Or someone else entirely?

This morning was no different. A bouquet of pink roses awaited me. Their soft, elegant beauty momentarily lifted my spirits. I carried them with me to work, inhaling their sweet fragrance, a rare smile gracing my lips.

At the office, I placed them in a pot on my desk, their presence a bright spot in my otherwise gray day.

Kanika arrived shortly after and immediately noticed the flowers. “Another one?” she teased, raising an eyebrow. when I left for the office there were no flowers there. When you leave for the office, the flowers appear there.  That guy always knows when you leave for the office. Whoever this guy is is trying really hard to woo you?