Rajveer stepped into the bedroom, the tea tray balanced carefully in his hands. His gaze softened as he saw Rahul sleeping peacefully, the light of dawn casting a gentle glow over his face. A tender smile graced Rajveer's lips as he carefully placed the tea on the bedside table.
Bending slightly, he leaned closer to Rahul, his voice barely a whisper, soft and melodious. "Rahul... wake up. Your tea is ready," he said, his tone carrying a sweetness he had never thought he could muster.
Rahul stirred slightly, his eyelids fluttering, but before he could fully awaken, a loud whistle pierced the silence—the sound of the pressure cooker in the kitchen. Startled, Rajveer straightened up and quickly glanced toward the door. "The potatoes," he thought, realizing they must be boiling over.
Without another word, he turned and hurried out of the room, his saree flowing behind him, and the faint sound of his anklets fading into the distance.
Rahul, now half-awake, caught a fleeting glimpse of Rajveer as he left. His vision was still blurry from sleep, but the sight of long, silky black hair cascading down a figure draped in a saree left him frozen in place.
He sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes, trying to make sense of what he had just seen. "Was that... Anjali?" he whispered to himself, his heart racing. But the thought seemed impossible. Anjali was gone, and he had spent months searching for her with no answers.
Unable to shake the image, Rahul got out of bed, grabbed the cup of tea, and took a sip, the warmth grounding him momentarily. Still, the fleeting vision lingered in his mind. Setting the cup down, he decided to clear his head and headed toward the bathroom.
As he stood before the mirror, splashing cold water on his face, Rahul tried to dismiss the thought. "Maybe I was dreaming... or hallucinating," he reasoned, shaking his head. But deep down, an unease remained, a flicker of hope and confusion mingling within him.
All the while, in the kitchen, Rajveer was busy handling the pressure cooker, unaware of the storm of emotions his brief appearance had stirred in Rahul’s heart.
Rahul stepped out of the bedroom, his mind still clouded by the fleeting vision he thought he had seen earlier. His eyes immediately fell on the neatly arranged clothes placed on the bed for him to wear—a crisp shirt and trousers, perfectly ironed. The gesture was familiar, one Anjali used to do every morning. His heart skipped a beat.
As he took a deep breath, the rich, comforting aroma of parathas wafted through the air. It tugged at his heart, bringing back memories of countless mornings when Anjali would hum softly in the kitchen, preparing breakfast. Driven by the scent and the sudden surge of nostalgia, Rahul followed the trail to the kitchen.
When he entered, he froze. A woman stood there with her back to him, draped in a beautiful saree. Her long black hair cascaded down her back, slightly damp at the tips, suggesting she had just bathed. She moved gracefully, flipping the parathas on the pan, the jingling of her bangles filling the quiet morning.
Without thinking, overcome by a wave of emotion, Rahul walked toward her. His arms instinctively wrapped around her waist, pulling her close.
“Anjali...” he whispered, his voice trembling. His head rested against her shoulder as he tightened his embrace, the warmth of her body grounding him.
Rajveer froze, his heart sinking to the pit of his stomach. His breathing quickened, and his hands trembled as he clutched the spatula. His mind screamed at him to move, to speak, to stop this, but he couldn’t. The feel of Rahul’s arms around him, the intensity of his voice, and the flood of emotions he had never experienced left him paralyzed.
Rahul buried his face in her neck, his lips brushing against her skin as he whispered, “I missed you so much, Anjali. I thought I lost you forever.” His voice cracked with emotion, and he pressed a soft kiss to the curve of her neck, his tears flowing freely, dampening her skin.
Rajveer’s heart raced as an unfamiliar warmth spread through his chest. A tear escaped his own eye, though he didn’t know why. The overwhelming intimacy of the moment shook him to his core.
But then Rahul gently turned her around, his hands on her shoulders, his tear-filled eyes searching hers. The moment their gazes met, his expression shifted from tenderness to utter shock.
Rahul staggered back, his hands dropping to his sides. “Who... who are you?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his face pale with disbelief.
Rajveer stood there, his heart pounding, unable to meet Rahul’s gaze. The silence hung heavy between them, filled with unspoken questions, shattered illusions, and the overwhelming weight of what had just transpired.
