After a few minutes of posing for pictures under Priya’s direction, Raghuveer barked, “That’s enough, we’re leaving,” and led his wife outside to the car. Pausing before opening the door, he turned back to her with a questioning look, just to make sure. “Did…you want to take more pictures?” “No!” Vaidehi and cameras were dushmann-e-jaan, mortal enemies. She stood in front of a camera and her brain completely froze. Veer turned his head away, grinning at her emphatic answer. Once they were buckled in and he had reversed, he asked, “Toh, kahan jaana chahthi ho tum?”

(So, where do you want to go?)

“Mujhe pata hain aapko zabardasti bheje hain sab ne. Main nahi chahthi ki mere waje se aapka kaam disturb ho jaye. Aap mujhe bas café ya library mein drop karke ghar jaane waqt pick up kijiye. Mujhe bhi thoda kaam hain, main woh kar lungi.”

(I know that everyone forced you to come. I don’t want your work to be disturbed on my behalf. You can just drop me off at a café or library and pick me up again on your way home. I have a bit of work too, I’ll just do that.)

Raghuveer pulled over onto the side of the road. Vaidehi looked at him, eyebrows raised. “Dekh Vaidehi, mujhe pata ki aaj che maine ho gaye hain humari shaadi hokar, and it’s supposed to be a special day today. Kisi ne mere saath zabardasti nahi kiya. Aaj tak maine tumhare liye kuch nahi kiya, kam se kam aaj toh karne do. Let me try and make this up to you, and…let’s have that conversation we should have had a long time ago.”

(Look Vaidehi, I know that today it’s been six months since we’ve married, and it’s supposed to be a special day. Nobody forced me to come. I haven’t done anything for you until today, at least let me do something for you today. Let me try and make this up to you, and…let’s have that conversation we should have had a long time ago.)

Aaj suraj kaha se uthe? Pehle toh mujhse itna baatein kar rahe hain. And let me make it up to you? Wah, bhai. Kya baat hain. But excuse me sir, we would have had that conversation a long time ago if you showed any interest. So, the blame is entirely yours.

(Which side did the sun rise from today? First of all, he’s actually saying more than a few words. And let me make it up to you? Wah, bhai….)

Vaidehi shrugged, nodding. Her reaction wasn’t encouraging, but Veer bolstered his courage. It was his mistake; he would have to fix it. “Toh, café jaana chahthi ho?”

(So, you want to go to a café?)

“Maine kuch soch ke nahi rakhi, jaha aapko theek lage.”

(I didn’t have anywhere planned, wherever you want to go.)

“In that case…let it be a surprise.” Finally, he’d have a chance to pull off his original plan. “May I turn on the radio?” Vaidehi tuned in to her favorite channel that always played retro Bollywood songs. Within minutes, she was singing along, and Veer turned down the radio to better listen to her voice.

He didn’t know she could sing, and her voice was perfect. Melodious but with an attractive rasp. Music was Vaidehi’s hobby and passion, and that along with cleaning, kept her sane throughout her life. But her borderline OCD tendencies usually drove the people around her insane. She closed her eyes and only opened them when she felt that they had stopped moving. Gentlemanly manners ingrained in him by his mother, Veer held her door open, stretching out a hand to help her out of the car. Taking it, she stepped out and was surprised to see that he still held her hand in his as he strode inside the building. Pausing to take a look around, Vaidehi used the excuse to slip her hand out of his. His fingers twitched, wanting to grasp her hand again, but he slid his hands into his pockets.

“Is this your office?” The building was empty, as it was Sunday, and almost all employees had a holiday. Sometimes Raghuveer’s personal team would have to work with him, but since he was off today, they were too. “Yes, this is our main headquarters, but we have offices in other cities, too.” He guided her to the elevator, keeping a hand on the rail behind her, while he ruminated on how to continue the conversation. The doors opened directly into a foyer, leading to a spacious, two-story flat. Vaidehi knew this flat. After all, she was the one who decorated it.

‘Maa, maine ek interior designer ko rakha. Office flat ko redecorate karna tha.’

(Maa, I hired an interior designer. To redecorate the office flat.)

‘Theek hain beta, lekin achanak kaam ke beech yeh batane ke liye call kiya?’

(Ok beta, but did you suddenly call in between work to tell me this?)

‘Haan, main chahtha tha ki jald se jald ho.’

(Yes, I want it to happen ASAP.)

‘Theek hain, par tum kyun nahi baat kar raha hain designer se? Zyaada tar tum rehthe ho uss flat mein.’

(Ok, but why aren’t you talking to the designer? You’re the one who usually stays in that flat.)

‘Pichle baar bhi maine hi designer se baat kiya. Par ab accha nahi lag raha, kisi aur ka rai chahiye. Aapne ne designs dekha, joh usne bheja?’

(I worked with the designer last time. But I don’t like the way it looks now, I was someone else’s opinion. Did you look at the design that she sent you?)

‘Haan dekha, lekin sab hi theek lag rahe hain mujhe. Shayad koi aur…’

(Yeah I saw, but they all look fine to me. Maybe someone else…)

‘Vaidehi se poocho.’ (Ask Vaidehi.)

Saying that, he cut the call. He’d tried several times over the past few weeks to spend a few nights at his flat, like he used to. But it seemed he could only get good night’s sleep in his own room- or perhaps, because of the person who now shared it. The restless feeling that overtook him every time he stepped into the flat was probably because it didn’t feel like home. A re-vamp was in order. He immediately called the designer. ‘Good afternoon. My wife will be supervising the flat redesign. Whatever she wants, however she wants it, I would like you to make it happen.’

“Vaidehi, beta!”

“Ji Maa, aa rahi hoon.”

(Yes Maa, I’m coming.)

“Beta, hum iss flat ko redecorate kar rahe hain. Tum kya sochthi ho yeh designs ke baare mein?”

(Beta, we’re redecorating this flat. What do you think about these designs?)

“Kaunsa flat-”

(Which flat-)

“Yeh dekho…”

(Look at this…)

“I’m happy to give my opinion, Maa. Lekin, main kyun…”

(But, why me…)

“You have really good taste. Actually, agar tumhare paas time hain, toh tum hi designer se baat karke handle karo.”

(Actually, if you have the time, then you can talk to the designer and handle it all.)

“Haan, kar sakti hoon. Kaam bhi ab thoda slow chal raha hain, toh waqt hain. Mujhe accha lagta hain aise decorate karna, par...”

(Yes, I can. Work is going a bit slow now, so I have time. And I like to decorate, but…)

“Wonderful!” Chandrika applauded herself. Raghuveer and Vaidehi had both given her the answers she wanted to hear. Raghuveer was pretty much the only one who stayed in that flat, so it was only fair that his wife decorate it. And she hoped her daughter-in-law would be able to enjoy her results in person, very often.

Vaidehi enjoyed working with the designer, especially since she had full permission to decorate according to her style. Though she had never visited, she had the flat memorized like the back of her hand. However, it had been over three months since, and she had completely forgotten about it. “I didn’t know that the office also had a penthouse suit.” “The family always has a penthouse suite in all their office buildings. And senior employees have company-maintained flats at nearby apartments. I’m usually the only one who stays here.”

Vaidehi nodded, rubbing her hands and looking at the balcony, lost as to what to say or do. “You haven’t stayed here since we married.” “I was feeling restless here, so I thought to redo the whole place. Now it feels like home.” Does he know that I was the one who redesigned it? Mera mann kyun itna utavla ho raha hain? Just because he said it feels like home?

(Why is my heart getting so excited?)

“Like I said this morning, I’d like to talk. Will you take a seat?”  

Raghuveer gestured towards the sofa. After they were seated comfortably, he continued. “I told you after we married that I didn’t want your interference in my life, and I appreciate that you’ve respected my boundaries. But I have to apologize. I know these six months haven’t been what you expected them to be.”

Vaidehi shook her head. She was getting her chance to speak, without fighting for it. She wasn’t going to waste her words now. “No, it was exactly how I expected it to be.” He blinked in shock, a furrow forming between his brows. What did she mean, this was how she expected it to be? “Shayad aapko humara pehli mulaqat yaad nahi hain, lekin mujhe yaad hain. Aur mujhe apne waje bhi yaad hain, yeh shaadi karne ke liye. Joh bhi maine socha, use bohot zyaada mila mujhe.”

(Maybe you don’t remember our first meeting, but I do. And I remember my reasons for getting married. Whatever I thought, I’ve found much more than that.)

Oh, he remembered their first meeting very well, a permanent imprint in his heart and mind. But what were her reasons for getting married? This was the first he heard of anything other than a normal marriage from her side. This was not the direction this conversation was supposed to go, but he couldn’t help but ask one question. “Kya tum nahi chahthi ki humara shaadi normal ho? Ki hum baaki pati patni ki tarah rahe?”

(Do you not want us to have a normal marriage? Like all other couples?)

“Sach kahoon toh, maine zyaada kuch nahi socha iske baare mein. Lekin har kisika ‘normal’, har couple ka ‘normal’, alag hota hain.”

(Truth be told, I never really thought much about it. But everyone’s ‘normal’, every couple’s ‘normal’ is different.)

Raghuveer hesitated, but leaned forward, taking hold of her hand. Her fingers twitched in his hold, but calmed. At least she didn’t take her hand away. “Jaise bhi guzaare yeh che mahine – mere waje se – pure zindagi aise toh nahi bita sakte.”

(However these six months passed – because of me – we can’t spend the rest of our lives that way.)

Vaidehi was tempted to respond sarcastically, but held her tongue. Itne dinon baad muh khul raha hain inka, karne do zubaan ki exercise.

(He’s opening his mouth after so many days, let him exercise his speaking muscles.)

“Tum mujhe ek aur mauka de sakti ho? Tum hume ek mauke de sakti ho? Taaki hum apna ‘normal’ dhoond sake?”

(Could you give me one more chance? Could you give us a chance? So that we can find our ‘normal’?)

She thought he was giving her his time today, as a roundabout apology, but Vaidehi had never expected he would want to re-evaluate their marriage. Discuss their life together. Was he more or less asking to become friends? She was debating whether or not to ask him that very question when he raised an eyebrow, patiently waiting for her answer. Had she ever mentioned that her husband also looked really hot in that pose? Focus, Vaidehi. “Are you asking if we can become friends? If so, my answer is yes.”

He initially frowned, but slowly nodded in agreement. Remember Veer, every relationship begins with friendship. This is what you wanted. It’s up to you to take it beyond friendship. “Thank you, for giving us a chance.”  He cleared his throat, as if wanting to say something else, but the words stayed trapped inside. “Now, would you like something to eat or drink, or a tour of the apartment?” That was a sudden change of subject, but Vaidehi accepted it. “Nothing to eat or drink, but I would love a tour.”

The tour was fairly quiet, but Veer would occasionally add tidbits of interesting information related to each room, and Vaidehi quite enjoyed this side of her husband. Of course, she already knew everything he shared with her. She had taken a deep dive into this project, researched every piece of furniture and décor before deciding. It seemed she’d answered her previous question – he didn’t know that she had designed this place.

“I left the best room – well, hopefully the best – for last. A surprise for you.” “For me?” But wasn’t this his home office? “I told you I wanted to make it up to you.” He bent forward, catching her eyes. “I meant it. Will you do me a favor and close your eyes?” She did, keeping a hand over her eyes for good measure. As she took a step, her foot caught against the rug, making her stumble. Veer caught her hand, the one that wasn’t still covering her closed eyes, and kept a supporting hand against her back. “Main sambhalunga tumhe. Bas do kadam aur.”

(I’ll handle you. Just two more steps.)

Immediately, Vaidehi’s instincts said ‘Main khud ko sambhal sakti hoon.’

(I can handle myself.)

All the same, it felt sweet to hear his comforting voice, imaging that he would truly always be there for her. “Ab aankhein kholo.”

(Now open your eyes.)

Her hand slipped out of his, the friction spreading warmth up her arm, as she lifted it to cover her mouth. Her fingers drummed a thoughtful beat against her lips. His desk was moved to a corner of the room, next to one of the bookshelves she had chosen, but the rest of the room was changed. A plush rug in a jharoka design covered the floor, while Madhubani artwork covered the walls. There was another desk, opposite his, and a table with a half-solved jigsaw puzzle. Short, glass-door cabinets held a variety of trinkets, puzzles of all kinds, and many of her favorite books. The best part was the comfy, upholstered rocking chair and lamp, perfect for reading, puzzling, or simply dreaming.

“Kaisa laga? Up to your standards?” he teased.

(How is it?)

“Up to my standards? I didn’t have any. Even if I did, this would be way beyond.” Vaidehi turned to look at him, surprise and something else undefinable on her face. Raghuveer had kept his hand on her back, and now as she turned, it slipped around her waist, pulling her an inch closer. “Aap ne kiya yeh sab?”

(You did all of this?)

His mouth quirked up in response. “Par kyun?”

(But why?)

“You made sure that there’s something for everyone here, and kept all my likes and dislikes in mind. But what about you? Ab re-design ho gaya, toh main phir se yahan rehna lagunga, aur main chahunga ki tum bhi mere saath aao. Aise na bhi ho, you’re still a member of this family, and there should be someplace here that’s just for you. I hope you don’t mind that you’ll have to share the room with me. If it bothers you, we can figure out a schedule to share whenever we’re both here.”

(Now that the redesign is done, I’ll start staying here again, and I’d want you to accompany me. Even if you don’t…)

Her lips parted, letting out a silent breath. “Aapko pata tha, ki maine design kiya?”

(You knew, that I designed this place?)

He smiled, the humor lighting his eyes giving him away more than the slight curve of his lips. “Yahan khade hokar saare baatein karna hain?”

(Do you want to stand here and discuss everything?)

He led her to sit down at her desk, crossing his legs and propping himself against the desk. “Haan, pata tha. The interior designer did great, and you guided her well.”

(Yes, I knew…)

She relaxed in relief. So, he didn’t know that she’d basically bullied the designer into letting her make every decision. From painting, to arrangement, all the way to shopping. The poor woman was a genius, no doubt, but her creative license didn’t have a chance to shine under Vaidehi’s overpowering excitement. Vaidehi should probably give her another contract as an apology, because she was very good at her job. Her best friends might have something for her, or perhaps her senior at work. She would figure something out.