Tying The Knot With Ex's Brother

THE ROOM THAT WAITED

The house glowed with soft lights, the scent of fresh flowers mingling with the aroma of dinner. Laughter drifted from the kitchen, the clink of plates and low chatter filling the space

Sush opened the door, and Ragini stepped in with her parents. She wore a simple red kurta over jeans, her hair in a loose braid. No makeup. No effort to impress. Just herself.

For a moment, the room fell silent.

Then Ma stepped forward, hugging her warmly. "You look lovely, Ragini."

Papa gave her a gentle nod. Jeevika offered a side hug, smiling. Her young son peeked from behind her, curious.

"Who is she?" he whispered.

"She's Ragini mami," Jeevika replied softly. "You were little when she left."

Ragini smiled at him. "You've grown up so much."

They moved into the living room. Sparsh stood by the cake table, adjusting candles. Their eyes met briefly—wordless, still.

Sid approached. "How are you?"

Ragini offered a calm smile. "Good. And I'm happy for you and Sush. Truly."

"Thanks," he said, taken aback.

The cake was brought out. Everyone gathered. Sparsh cut the first slice and turned to Ma.

She smiled and shook her head gently. "Not me. Give it to Ragini."

The room stilled.

Sparsh turned, walked over, and held out the piece. Ragini accepted it quietly.

"Happy Birthday," she said.

"Thank you," he replied.

Dinner followed—warm, familiar. Laughter returned. After dessert, Jeevika's husband leaned toward Ragini. "You did well coming back. The house missed you."

She smiled, touched.

"They're not going to talk on their own," said Sid.

"I know," Sush said. "That's why we make them."

They had already spoken to the parents.

As the evening wore down, Sid and Sush shared a knowing look. It was time.

When Ragini's family stood to leave, Sparsh's father intervened. "Stay. It's late. All the rooms are ready. Just tonight."

Ragini looked to her father, surprised. But he nodded. "Let's stay."

Sush took Ragini's hand. "You and I can sleep in your room. Sparsh jiju will stay with Sid in his room."

Ragini flinched slightly at the words 'your room'—but said nothing.

The house quieted. Everyone retreated to their spaces. But when Ragini entered the room, she found Sparsh sitting there, just as surprised.

"I thought I was staying here," she said.

"She told me the same," he replied.

She turned to leave. "Then I'll go."

He reached out, gently stopping her. "Wait... how have you been?"

She turned back, hesitated. Then smiled faintly. "Good."

She walked over and sat beside him on the bed. 

Ragini tilted her head slightly, studying his face under the warm glow of the bedside lamp. "How are you?" she asked softly.

Sparsh didn't answer immediately. His voice, when it came, was barely above a whisper. "Incomplete. Without you. Regretful of my actions... my words. And still hoping every day that you'd come back."

He hesitated, then slowly reached out and placed his hand gently over hers. His fingers trembled slightly as he squeezed it.

"I missed you, love," he said, the words raw with emotion.

Ragini didn't look at him. Her eyes were fixed on the far wall, blinking fast to keep the tears at bay. Her heart thudded in her chest, loud and unrelenting.

She turned her face away slightly, hiding the shimmer in her eyes. But she didn't pull her hand back.

Sparsh watched her look away, her silence louder than any rejection.

But something in her stillness gave him courage.

Gently, he reached out and touched her cheek, turning her face toward him. His fingers were warm, trembling just slightly.

"I've been waiting for you," he said, voice thick with emotion. "Every single day. I know I failed you... but if there's even a part of you that still feels what we had—can't you come back to me now?"

Ragini's breath hitched.

"I'll make up for it," he whispered. "For everything I did... everything I didn't do. Just give me the chance."

She didn't speak. And he waited—his hand still on her cheek, his gaze unwavering—as if this moment was all he had left to ask for forgiveness.

A single tear escaped Ragini's eye, trailing down her cheek before she could stop it.

Sparsh saw it—and something inside him cracked.

He leaned in slowly, gently pressing a kiss to her forehead. The kind of kiss that held no demands, only longing. Only love.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice trembling. "Please come back."

He pulled back just enough to meet her eyes.

"This room feels empty without you," he continued, his voice raw. "This home... it hasn't felt like home since you left."

Ragini closed her eyes, as if holding herself together with threads far too delicate.

She didn't speak yet.

But she didn't pull away either.

And for Sparsh, that small silence felt like hope.

Sparsh cupped her face gently, searching her eyes.

"Say something," he whispered, his thumb brushing away the tear from her cheek. "If you're not ready, I'll wait... I swear I will. But please, Ragini... say something."

Ragini's eyes shimmered with unshed tears. Her lips parted, but no words came out for a moment. She looked down, then back at him—caught in a storm of emotion she had buried for so long.

Finally, in a voice barely above a whisper, she said, "You broke me, Sparsh."

His expression faltered, pain flashing through his eyes.

"But..." she continued, her voice steadier now, "somehow, I still find peace in this room. With you."

Ragini's breath hitched. Her composure—so carefully held all evening—finally gave way. A sob escaped her lips as tears spilled freely down her cheeks.

And then, without another word, she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Sparsh, holding him tight—like she had been waiting to do this for years.

"I love you," she whispered through her tears. "I love you, Sparsh."

Sparsh's eyes widened, arms tightening around her instinctively, protectively.

"Not even a single day went by when I didn't miss you," Ragini cried softly into his shoulder. "Every day, I wanted to come back to you. Every single day, I wanted to tell you that I can't live without you."

She pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, her voice trembling. "It was me who told you not to text me. But when you actually stopped texting... I used to stare at my phone, wishing you'd break the silence. Wishing you'd just... say something."

Sparsh reached up and gently brushed her hair back, his forehead resting against hers.

He kissed her forehead and whispered, "Then come back," he whispered. "Come back for real."