Caged in Silk

Reyansh's POV

The sun had barely risen when I awoke to the buzz of my phone, an early morning reminder of what was waiting for me. I rubbed my temples, the tension from last night still lingering. It wasn't a hangover—it was the weight of decisions I wasn't yet ready to face. The land deal. The marriage proposal. Janhavi.

I rose from bed slowly, trying to shake off the suffocating thoughts that clouded my mind. The usual routine was comforting, a small reprieve from everything that seemed to be closing in on me. A quick shower, a freshly pressed suit, and a glance in the mirror where I barely recognized the man staring back at me. Hard eyes. A sharp jawline. There was no softness in him. No room for error. I was too focused on what had to be done.

As I walked down the stairs, the sounds of my family filled the house, but it was quiet in a way I wasn't used to. The hum of breakfast preparations, the clinking of plates and glasses—it all seemed distant, almost as though the weight of last night's events had cast a shadow over everything.

I stepped into the dining room to see my parents, my uncle, and Ishaan all sitting there, their attention turning to me the moment I walked in. The morning light filtered through the large windows, casting long shadows across the room.

But the air was heavy, like they were all waiting for me to speak first.

I took my seat, the familiar morning hum of the household feeling out of place. I scanned the table—my father, Rajendra, sitting at the head of the table, his usual calm demeanor not quite reaching his eyes. My mother, Suman, next to him, her smile warm but cautious, as if trying to gauge my mood. My chacha, Anil, sat across from me, his eyes kind but filled with curiosity. And then there was Ishaan.

Ishaan wasn't his usual cheerful self. He was slouched in his seat, his head down, picking at his food without much enthusiasm. I hadn't forgotten last night's outburst. He'd made the mistake of trying to tease me, and I'd lashed out. He hadn't even fought back. It had been the kind of anger I wasn't used to feeling—raw, misplaced, but impossible to control.

I sighed inwardly, noticing how subdued he was, and immediately felt a pang of guilt. I didn't want to start the day with that kind of tension between us. Ishaan was my younger brother, someone who looked up to me, and I had hurt him.

"Morning, everyone," I said, keeping my tone neutral, but not too stiff. "Sorry about last night."

The table went quiet at my words, all eyes now on me.

"Ishaan," I said, glancing over at him. His eyes were still on his plate, avoiding mine. I could feel the weight of his discomfort. "I was out of line. I shouldn't have spoken to you like that."

He didn't respond at first, but after a long beat, he looked up, his expression still guarded. "It's fine, bhai," he muttered, not meeting my eyes.

"Really, it's not," I said, leaning forward slightly. "I know I've been a little short with everyone lately. You're my brother. I shouldn't let work mess with my family."

I didn't say it out loud, but the truth was that I had been holding onto so much stress from the office, and last night was just one of those times when everything boiled over. Work, the land deal, and the whole mess with Meera and Janhavi... it was all weighing on me more than I cared to admit.

To ease the tension, I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out a small gift box, pushing it across the table toward Ishaan. His eyes widened a little, clearly surprised.

"Here," I said, my voice softer now. "I know it's not much, but I thought you'd like it."

Ishaan stared at the box for a moment before taking it, his brow furrowing in confusion. "What's this?"

"Just something for you," I replied with a small, almost apologetic smile.

He hesitated before slowly unwrapping the box, revealing a sleek, leather wallet—something I knew he'd been eyeing for weeks. It wasn't a grand gesture, but it was the best I could offer to make up for snapping at him.

He looked up at me then, and there was a flicker of recognition in his eyes. "You didn't have to, bhai..."

"I know," I said quietly, watching as he carefully slid the wallet back into its box. "But I should've had more patience with you. I wasn't thinking straight."

The conversation fell into a more comfortable rhythm, with my parents exchanging pleasantries. I tried to focus on the breakfast, on the normalcy of the moment, but my thoughts kept wandering back to last night.

As the conversation continued, I made small talk with my family, forcing myself to appear calm, to be present. But everything felt like a layer of noise on top of a constant hum in my head. The proposal. The marriage. The plan Meera had set into motion.

I glanced at my father, noticing the faint lines around his eyes. The weight of years of responsibility. His voice was calm as he spoke to me, trying to lighten the mood, but I knew he was observing me—waiting for me to snap out of whatever fog I was in.

"You know, son," he said, looking over at me with that patient, steady gaze of his. "Last night... I can understand your frustration. Work can get the best of anyone. But it's important not to bring that stress home. Business shouldn't bleed into family."

My father's voice was always steady. Always a reminder that family was the bedrock, the constant. He had built everything he had with discipline, yes, but also with a deep respect for what mattered. And he knew I was capable of the same.

"You're right," I said, leaning back in my chair, running a hand through my hair. "I'll do better."

My chacha, Anil, joined in, adding his usual calm and pragmatic insight. "The thing is, Reyansh, you're growing into something more than just a businessman. You have a family now. You have a brother, parents, people who care about you. Work can't take precedence over that."

I nodded, but my mind was still elsewhere. The deal. Janhavi. The proposal that hung over me like a storm cloud.

"Speaking of work," I began, trying to divert my thoughts, "I met with Meera yesterday about the Jodhpur deal. There's some final paperwork we need to go through, but I think we're close."

I paused, looking at my family. They seemed to relax a little at the mention of business, their tension easing as they nodded in acknowledgment.

"Just make sure you're careful," my father said, his eyes softening. "Business deals can be tricky. Always protect your interests."

"I will," I said, though my voice sounded distant even to me. "I know what I'm doing."

I glanced at Ishaan again, who was now fiddling with his new wallet, his expression softening ever so slightly. I could tell he wasn't angry with me anymore, but the unease from last night still lingered between us.

I needed to handle this better. Not just with Ishaan, but with everyone. I had to get a hold of myself.

But at the same time, I couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something bigger was at play here. Something I couldn't ignore. A deal was one thing. A marriage was something else entirely.

As the morning wore on, I found myself lost in thought again, my mind drifting back to Janhavi. Her face, her silence, her fragility... I couldn't stop thinking about the proposal Meera had suggested. Marrying her. Securing the land deal. It seemed like the only way forward.

And yet, I knew one thing for sure.

Once that contract was signed, there would be no going back.

The thought settled in my chest like a stone.