Waited For You

Chapter 40

{ The Present } :-

Their relationship didn’t start like something new—it felt like opening a book they had once loved, only to find new pages waiting.
It didn’t feel like a beginning—it felt like continuity, like they had simply stepped into a softer, warmer version of what they already were.It felt like they had skipped the awkward stage and gone straight into home.

The kitchen, as always, was theirs.
Most of her time now-a-days was spent in Atharv's apartment which according to Atharv was theirs and not only his, she went back to her place only when he went to his office.

Sanchi was stirring the gravy, tasting it carefully, adjusting the spices with precision. Atharv stood beside her, rolling out rotis with surprising perfection.

She glanced at him. “You’re showing off.”
“I’m contributing,” he replied calmly.
“You’re competing.”
“I’m winning.”
She turned fully towards him, narrowing her eyes. “Say that again.”
He froze for half a second. “Sorry I'm not winning…I’m… participating?”

She laughed. “Tum na… you start fights just to end them with sorry.”
“I like peace.”
“Oh you like baiting me and then saying sorry.”
“Same thing, where is fun otherwise?”

—

They worked like a team—no chaos, no stepping over each other. Just smooth, effortless coordination.

She handled the cooking like second nature—years of learning from her mother reflecting in every flavor. And Atharv matched her rhythm perfectly.
But when it came to baking… that was his territory.

The oven light glowed as Sanchi sat cross-legged on the counter, watching like it was a live show.
“You’re more excited than me,” Atharv said.
“Because I know what’s coming.”
“It’s just a cake.”
“It’s your cake.”
He smiled, shaking his head.
When it was ready, he cut a piece and held it up to her.
She took a bite, instantly closing her eyes.
“Okay… wow.”
“Bas wow?”
“No wait,” she grabbed another piece, “this is illegal.”
“Thank you, thank you.”
“You don’t cook better than me…” she added.
He raised an eyebrow.
“…but you definitely bake better.”
“I’ll take that win.”
“And I’m going to exploit it.”
“You can exploit me in any way you want”, and kissed her nose.

—

Later, they sat on the floor again, sharing from one plate containing simple dal tadka and rotis—an old habit that never faded, and which apparently occurred frequently nowadays.
Atharv took a bite and sighed, “I swear, I love everything you cook.”
She looked at him suspiciously. “Everything?”
“Haan.”
“Even the baigan ka bharta?”
“That also.”
“Why, as far as I remember you never liked it?”
“Because you made it and it was actually tasty, also because it is aunty's recipe.”
"Almost everything I make is Mumma's recipe."
"That is why everything is so good."
She tried to stay serious… but couldn’t.
“Mother-in- law paglu,” she muttered.
“That I am,” he grinned boyishly.
And her heart skipped a beat like everytime.

--------

Their mornings were soft chaos.
He’d be getting ready for office while she hovered around, sometimes helping, sometimes just… being there.
“Where’s my watch?” he’d ask.
She’d already be holding it.
“Where’s my file?”
She’d point to the table.
“Where’s my motivation to go to office?”
She’d look at him. “Gone.”
He’d sigh dramatically and pull her into a quick hug.
“Don’t go,” she’d mumble into his shirt.
“Don’t tempt me.”
“You’re very easily tempted.”
“Because of you.”
He’d pick up his bag, walk to the door… then come back again.
“Kya hua?” she’d ask.
He’d just hold her face and kiss her forehead softly.
“Now I can go.”
“Drama.”
“Love.”

And then came their phone calls.
Because no matter how busy he got… he’d call.
“Hello, Mrs. Busy Pilot,” he’d say teasingly.
“I’m not your Mrs. yet.”
“Emotionally ho.”
She’d roll her eyes, even though he couldn’t see it.
“What are you doing?”
“Work.”
“Miss kar rahe ho?”
“Constantly.”
She’d go quiet for a second.
“Tum?”
“Same.”
Sometimes the calls were short.
Sometimes long.
Sometimes just silence with occasional “hmm” and “haan”.
But neither of them ever felt the need to hang up first.
“You cut,” he’d say.
“No, you.”
“You.”
“You.”
“Fine, together.”
“Okay.”
“…you didn’t cut.”
“You also didn’t.”
“Okay bye.”
“Bye.”
…no one cut.

—

And then there were her pilot days.
Early mornings or nights, crisp uniform, hair tied perfectly—completely different from the girl stealing his clothes.
Atharv would just stand there for a second, staring.
“What?” she’d ask.
“Nothing… bas dekh raha hoon.”
“Why are you looking like that?”
“I am feeling proud okay.”
She’d try to brush it off, but her smile would give her away.
Before leaving, she’d adjust her watch, pick up her bag—
And he’d stop her.
“Wait.”
“Kya hua? I’m getting late.”
“Ek second.”
He’d step closer, fix a strand of her hair, then kiss her forehead gently, then her nose and then cup her both cheeks with his both hands on either side shaking it cutely, it was their tradition now.
“Safe flight.”
She’d look at him, softer now. “I’ll call you.”
“Better.”
—
And when she was away…
He’d randomly text:
“Did you eat?”
“Miss you.”
“Come back jaldi.”
She’d reply in between duties—
“Had food.”
“Miss you more.”
“Land karke call karungi.”
And the moment she landed—
His phone would ring.
“Reached?”
“Haan.”
“Good.”
Pause.
“I miss you,” she’d say quietly.
“I know.”
“I really do.”
“Main yahin hoon.”

-----------

One evening like everyday, they sat together—quiet, comfortable.
Her phone rang.
“Maa.”
At the same time, his phone lit up—Avyansh bhaiya, as if they both have pre-planned the coincidence.
They exchanged a glance and picked up.

“Beta, ab shaadi ki date decide karni hai,” her mother’s voice came warmly.
On his side, Avyansh spoke calmly, while Vaidehi added soft suggestions and Avyukta’s excited voice popped in—
“And I’m planning everything, okay? But date aap dono decide toh karo!”

Siddharth’s teasing voice came from Sanchi’s side, “Just don’t try to do the bookings elsewhere, I have a reputation, what will people think if my own sister will ditch my hotels.”
They both smiled, listening to their families blend into one conversation full of love and chaos.

“We’ll tell you in some time,” Sanchi said gently.
“Haan, bas thoda discuss karke,” Atharv added.
After a few more laughs and instructions, the calls ended.

Silence again.

Atharv looked at her. “Decided anything?”
She shook her head, leaning slightly into him. “Not yet… I want something unique. Something that’s just ours… but I can’t figure it out.”

He didn’t rush her.
Didn’t suggest anything.
Just intertwined his fingers with hers.

“Take your time,” he said softly. “Find something that feels completely right.”
She looked at him—really looked at him.
And in that moment, it hit her… maybe it wasn’t about the date.
It was about this.
This comfort. This ease. This quiet understanding.

“I love you,” she said, leaning her head on his shoulder.
He smiled, resting his head lightly against hers.
“I know,” he whispered. “I love you too.”