The cool evening breeze kissed my face as I sat in the garden with Meera Aunty, Vikrant Uncle, and Niyati. We were having tea and snacks, the kind that made you feel warm and comfortable on the inside. It wasn’t just the tea though—it was the feeling of being accepted, of finally being a part of something. Even though I didn’t fully belong, it felt like the kind of family I never had.

“Inayat beta,” Meera Aunty said, her voice light and soothing, “try these pakoras with tamarind chutney? You’ll love them.”

I smiled, taking a small bite. "They're amazing, Aunty."

It was hard not to be swept up in the warmth of the moment. Even Vikrant Uncle, who usually had this serious air around him, was making jokes about how Niyati was always sneaking in the last pakora.

Just then, the sound of car engines reached my ears, and I glanced up to see Veer and Mahir walking toward us from the driveway.

I froze for a second, feeling that old flutter in my chest. 

Veer stopped in his tracks when he saw me. His eyebrows furrowed for a second, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. He hadn’t expected me to still be here.

“Come, You both arrived at right time. I’ll Bring tea for both of you.” Meera Aunty said as she asked helper to bring Tea for both of them.

“Inayat will be staying with us from now on.” Vikrant Uncle says and Both Mahir and Veer look at me.

“Really?” Mahir ask and Vikrant uncle nod. “It’s so good to have you back Inu.” Mahir says and i blink at nickname.

“Mahir used to run around the house calling your name INU… INU everywhere just to get your attention on smallest things.” Meera aunty says giving tea to both of them. 

"Is it okay if I call you Inu? Or should I just stick to Inayat?" Mahir asked, his voice a little hesitant.

I blinked at the nickname, not used to it. "It's okay. Actually, I’m glad you called me that. No one’s ever given me a nickname before."

Mahir's face lit up, a sheepish grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You’ve always been Inu to me.”

I smiled back, and for a brief moment, the warmth of their family washed over me. It was as if I wasn’t just a guest here, but someone they truly cared about. The conversation flowed easily after that, each voice adding to the rhythm of the evening. The tension I hadn’t realized was there slowly started to dissipate, and I found myself relaxing into the moment.

However, Veer remained silent, his eyes flicking to me occasionally, though he didn’t say a word. It felt like there was something unspoken between us, a tension that I couldn’t quite understand. The others didn’t seem to notice, but I could feel it. His silence was louder than any words could be.

After a few minutes, the comfortable chatter was interrupted when Vikrant Uncle turned to Veer, his voice warm yet commanding. "Veer, why don't you take Inayat to her apartment? She needs to pack a few clothes to stay here."

I felt a little uncomfortable at the sudden attention. This wasn’t exactly the plan—I hadn't expected to stay here for so long.

Veer’s gaze shifted to me, his expression unreadable. His eyebrows furrowed for a brief moment, and there was a flicker of something in his eyes. "Me?" he asked, his voice holding more than just surprise, almost like a challenge.

"Yes, you," Vikrant Uncle confirmed with a firm nod.

Veer didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he stood up from his chair, his posture stiff. He glanced at me again, his expression colder than it had been before. “Okay,” he said, his tone clipped, almost distant.

I nodded quietly, unsure of what to say next. There was something about his response that left me feeling slightly uneasy, though I couldn’t quite pinpoint why.

We left the garden and headed toward the car in silence. The drive to my apartment was filled with the hum of the engine, the outside world rushing past in a blur of city lights and shadows. The air inside the car felt thick with unspoken words. Veer’s hand was steady on the wheel, his gaze focused on the road ahead.

I tried to break the silence. “So... how’s work going?” I asked, my voice sounding louder than I intended in the quiet car.

Veer glanced at me briefly before returning his attention to the road. "Busy."

I glanced out the window, trying to find something to focus on other than the uncomfortable silence that enveloped us. But the truth was, today had already been heavy enough. Learning the truth about my past—the link between my family and the Singhania's, it had stirred up memories I wasn’t sure I was ready to deal with.

My mind flashed back to moments in my childhood—bits and pieces of memories that now seemed like puzzles I hadn’t been able to put together until today. Images of my parents, their laughter, and the warmth of their arms around me before the accident took it all away. That life seemed like another lifetime, a life I couldn’t fully remember, but the ache in my chest told me that I would never be able to forget it either.

I glanced at Veer. His eyes were on the road, not a hint of emotion showing on his face, as if his mind was somewhere far away. I wondered if he knew how I was feeling, or if he was just lost in his own world.

I shifted in my seat, trying to break the silence. “You know,” I began, my voice a little hesitant, “today’s been... a lot. Finding out the truth—it was... unexpected.” I looked out the window again, hoping my words didn’t sound too heavy.

Veer barely spared me a glance. "Mm," he muttered, keeping his attention on the road. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make me fall silent again.

We stopped in front of my building, the car engine falling silent. For a moment, neither of us moved.

I unbuckled my seatbelt and opened the door, the streetlight flickering above us as I stepped out. Then I paused, biting my lip, and turned to him.

"Um... you can come up if you want," I offered, hesitant but genuine. "It won’t take long, but... I mean, if you’re okay waiting inside instead of the car?"

Veer looked at me, eyebrows lifting slightly, caught off guard. For a moment, I thought he would refuse. But then he nodded—once—and stepped out of the car without a word.

We climbed the stairs in silence, the only sound our footsteps on the concrete. I unlocked the door and stepped inside, holding it open for him.

He stepped in, eyes quietly scanning everything.

My apartment wasn’t anything grand—just a cozy, lived-in space with a ton of green. Plants spilled over from corners, dangled from shelves, crawled up trellises on the windows. Veer stood in the center like a stranger dropped into a forest he didn’t expect to like—but couldn’t ignore. The contrast between him—buttoned up in his designer wear—and the wild softness of my home made the air between us feel almost... surreal.

A green forest meets cold marble.

“I, uh, like plants,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck. “Clearly.”

“I can see that,” he said, voice low, something almost amused flickering in his eyes.

Veer didn’t say anything, just gave a tiny shake of his head and walked further in, taking everything in as if each item told a story. His fingers brushed the edge of a photo frame on the shelf—me and my mother, frozen in a happier time.

I turned toward the bedroom and started packing a few essentials—clothes, skincare, a couple of books I couldn’t sleep without.

From the corner of my eye, I could feel him moving slowly through the space behind me, taking it all in. The soft light from the window fell across his face as he stood in my kitchen doorway, looking somehow... too tall for the space.

“You want anything? Water? Coffee? I think I have chocolate milk too,” I offered.

He shook his head. “No, I’m fine.”

Of course he was. Mr. I-don’t-need-anything. But there was a gentleness in his refusal this time, like he wasn’t shutting me out—just holding his distance.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” I said softly, folding a sweater. “Not after all these years.”

He didn’t respond immediately. I turned to look at him, and for a moment, his expression changed—like something cracked beneath the surface. A flicker of old pain. Or maybe recognition.

“But you did,” he said finally, almost to himself.

The silence that followed was deeper than before. Not awkward—just heavy.

I finished zipping up my suitcase and turned around to find him still there, standing by the kitchen counter like a ghost that hadn’t quite made up its mind about haunting me.

“Need help with that?” he asked, nodding toward the suitcase.

I blinked. “Oh. No, I—”

But he was already there, lifting it with ease. Like it weighed nothing.

“I’ll take it to the car,” he said, not quite looking at me. His voice was smooth, practiced. Polite.

My hands dropped to my sides. “Okay…”

The door clicked softly behind him, leaving me alone in the green silence.

For a second, I just stood there.

Then I sighed, tugging the loose end of my braid and heading to the mirror near the entryway. I didn’t know why I checked my reflection. I wasn’t trying to impress him. Right?

Sure.

I walked back into the kitchen, looking around one last time. This tiny jungle of mine had cradled me through so many storms. I wasn’t sure I was ready to let it go.

“Inayat.”