𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑹𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒓𝒄𝒐𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑹𝒊𝒅𝒆

PART-45

"Vardhaman!" Anusuiya's voice boomed through the living room, carrying from the open kitchen where the aroma of ghee and spices drifted through the air. "Beta, what time is it?"

Standing on a brown wooden chair, Vardhaman pressed the knot of a red balloon against the wall, his fingers sticky with fevicol. He tilted his head toward the old pendulum clock ticking steadily nearby. "7:30, Mom!" he called back, stretching his arm out as he half-yawned. "Kanak, now three white balloons."

Kanak, crouched low in her bright yellow-green Marathi patiala suit, shifted among the scattered balloons that rolled and bumped against her knees. "Here, Maan!" She pulled out the white balloons by their knots and placed them into Vardhaman's waiting hand.

A little distance away, Siddharth and Karan sat with their backs pressed lazily against the sofa, quietly watching the scene unfold.

Siddharth hunched slightly forward, thumb gliding in absent rhythm across the glow of his mobile screen. Every so often, he glanced sideways, catching the stiffness in Karan's posture, the way his gaze clung to the younger two at the carpet. A faint, knowing smile tugged at Siddharth's lips before he bent back into his phone.

Karan, however, sat still. One arm draped loosely over his bent knee, the other resting idle on the surface beside him. His gaze, unwavering, lingered on the younger boy and girl ahead with the steady patience of an elder brother on guard. The balloons, the clumsy shuffling, their small bursts of laughter - he caught it all, and his eyes slightly narrowed.

Watch your steps, Vardhaman. She is my sister... and just fourteen.

"...thinking, Karan?"

"Huh?" Karan's eyebrows shot up as he turned his face to the side.

Siddharth slid his phone into his pocket, his thumb lingering on the edge before he let it go with a quiet sigh. "What are you thinking, brother?"

Karan dipped his head, a shadow of a smile curving at his lips. "You shouldn't have brought me here." He looked up at Siddharth, the smile was still there, but his eyes held something heavier.

Siddharth drew in a long breath and slung an arm around Karan's shoulder. "It's been more than a month." He paused, blinking. "I know he's a little stubborn."

The smile slipped from Karan's face, but he said nothing.

Siddharth cleared his throat. "Alright," he said, quieter now. "Not a little, but very stubborn. But—" he lifted a finger, "—you two are best friends. Closer than I'll ever be with either of you."

Karan roamed his gaze across Siddharth's pleading expressions. "Why don't you deliver this lecture to your childhood buddy?" he whispered, his tone serious.

Siddharth parted his lips—

DING DONG! DING DONG!

From the kitchen, Anusuiya hurried out, the jingle of her anklets and the chiming of her bangles following her quick steps.

When the door swung open, her smile faltered mid-curve. "Kshay, Chanchal." Her eyes darted between the couple before settling into a softer, practiced smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Come, come. Come, beta. Dinner will start in just a few minutes. Just let Rudraksh come."

"Devar ji isn't home?" Chanchal's kajal-lined eyes widened as she glanced briefly at her husband.

Anusuiya pinched the pleats of her saree, lifting the hem just enough as she led them inside. "There must be too much work at the office." A brittle, awkward laugh slipped past her lips.

Kshay's lashes lowered as he blinked, his gaze dropping to the polished floor before drifting upward again—only to catch on the duo sitting on the sofa, where Karan subtly shook his head.