9. NO ,She will sit with us!

DRITI:

As Vyaan entered the dining hall, a sudden hush fell over the room. Conversations came to an abrupt stop, and all eyes turned toward him, creating an almost palpable silence. The shift in atmosphere was immediate, as if his presence commanded a respect that silenced the lively chatter.

I glanced around, noticing the change in mood, and felt the weight of everyone's gaze, mingling with the silent expectations of the moment. Vyaan's presence seemed to hold a significant place in this gathering, adding to the gravity of the occasion.

"Aunt Roopi," I heard her call out, her voice gentle yet authoritative, "Driti, can you serve everyone?"

I nodded, taking a deep breath to steady myself. "Of course, Aunt Roopi," I replied, and began to move towards the table, ready to serve the dishes and assist in making sure everyone was well taken care of. The task, though simple, helped me focus on the practical aspects of the evening and contributed to easing my earlier embarrassment.

Suddenly, Vyaan's voice cut through the silence. "No, she will sit with us," he said firmly.

The room’s attention shifted to him, and I felt a mix of surprise and unease. I glanced at Vyaan, unsure of his intent. His gaze met mine with a hint of reassurance, but the declaration had shifted the dynamics of the evening.

Aunt Roopi seemed momentarily taken aback but nodded in understanding. "Alright, if that’s what Vyaan wants," she said, her tone softening.

I took a seat beside Vyaan, feeling the weight of the unexpected decision as everyone settled back into their conversations, the earlier tension slowly dissipating.

"Vyaan, it’s a part of the rituals, beta," his mother said softly, trying to maintain the flow of tradition.

But Vyaan, resolute as ever, responded firmly, "Doesn't matter, Maa. If my wife is part of this family, then everyone should treat her exactly as you all do me."

His words carried a strong conviction, and there was a quiet determination in his tone. The room fell silent once more, the weight of his declaration hanging in the air. It was clear that Vyaan was committed to ensuring that I was treated with the same respect and inclusion as any other family member.

The words hung in the air, their impact felt deeply. There was a pause as everyone absorbed Vyaan’s declaration. The room seemed to shift, the atmosphere charged with the weight of his insistence.

His mother’s gaze softened, recognizing his determination, and the others looked around, nodding in reluctant agreement. The evening’s dynamics had changed, with Vyaan’s words setting a new tone for how I would be integrated into the family’s traditions.

Somehow, I felt a surge of happiness because Vyaan’s gesture was in line with something I had always dreamed of—a sense of belonging and respect within the family. His insistence that I be treated as an equal brought a flutter of warmth to my heart, making me feel valued.

Yet, at the same time, I felt a pang of anger. His assertiveness had been rather abrupt, and the way he had overruled the traditions felt somewhat disrespectful to the established customs. It was a confusing mix of emotions, where his protective stance and my frustration about his approach clashed within me.

"No, Ma, let me serve everyone," I said, my gaze fixed directly on Vyaan. The firmness in my voice was meant to convey that I wanted to handle this myself.

There was a subtle shift in the room as the family sensed the underlying tension between us.

No one was aware of the history Vyaan and I shared, or the animosity that had existed between us for years. To them, we were just a newly arranged couple, and I was determined to maintain that façade, despite the complicated feelings and the recent display of assertiveness from Vyaan.

"Sit, Mrs. Mehra," Vyaan said firmly, his tone brooking no argument." And no one is allowed to eat until she sits".

I could feel the old frustrations bubbling up inside me. This was so like him—trying to control, to assert dominance in a way that reminded me of our past interactions. It was a stark reminder of the conflicts and power struggles we had faced before. His insistence on controlling the situation made me feel trapped, as if the old dynamic between us was reasserting itself even now.

Sensing the tense atmosphere, Zora chimed in, "Driti, come on, your husband is asking you to eat with him. Can't you do this much for your husband?"

Her words stung, particularly because she was aware of the strained relationship Vyaan and I shared. It felt like a teasing nudge, highlighting the discomfort I was already feeling. Her comment, though meant to be light-hearted, only added to my frustration and sense of being under scrutiny.

I sat down without arguing, feeling the weight of everyone’s gaze on me. The room was silent, the focus entirely on me as I took my seat next to Vyaan. Each pair of eyes seemed to scrutinize every move I made, heightening my sense of self-consciousness and discomfort.

I tried to steady my breathing and maintain a composed demeanor, though the pressure of being under such intense observation was palpable.

The maids began to serve the dishes, moving efficiently around the table. They placed various dishes in front of each person, their movements practiced and smooth. The aroma of the food filled the room, mingling with the earlier tension.

As the meal was being served, I focused on keeping my composure and blending into the setting, doing my best to navigate the complex emotions of the evening while fulfilling my role in the family gathering.

"Bhabhi, this is so amazing!" Dhruv said, his voice filled with genuine enthusiasm as he took a bite of the dish I had helped prepare.

His compliment was a welcome relief, breaking some of the tension in the room. I managed a smile, feeling a small sense of accomplishment and gratitude for the positive feedback. It was a small but comforting acknowledgment amidst the otherwise charged atmosphere.

"Yeah, it’s so good," Aryaan agreed, nodding appreciatively.

"Bhabhi, you should cook more often," Riya added with a smile, clearly enjoying the meal.

Their praise felt like a breath of fresh air, easing some of the tension I was feeling. I smiled in response, appreciating the positive reinforcement and hoping it would help smooth over any lingering discomfort.

As Vyaan glanced over at them, his gaze was sharp and unyielding. The subtle intensity in his eyes seemed to communicate a silent command, as if he was reminding everyone of the need for decorum and propriety.

The warmth of the room momentarily dimmed under his scrutiny, causing a brief silence as everyone took note of his disapproval. The atmosphere shifted again, with the earlier ease replaced by a more cautious air.

As everyone continued to eat, Vyaan stood up and announced, "I'll be going to the office. If you need anything, call me."

His departure seemed to shift the focus away from him, and the room's atmosphere relaxed a bit. He nodded curtly to everyone, then made his way out, leaving behind a mixture of relief and lingering tension.

Vyaan called out as he was about to leave, “Abhiyaan and Arjun, be on time.”

His directive was clear, and he made sure his expectations were known before exiting. The mention of Abhiyaan and Arjun prompted a few nods of acknowledgment from those present, and the room settled back into its routine as Vyaan left for the office.

"Maa, I’m heading out too," Rehan announced as he stood up.

I noticed that Rehan was around the same age as Vyaan. Observing him, I saw that he had a demeanor similar to Vyaan’s—both carried a certain authoritative presence and confidence. Despite being polite, there was an underlying firmness in his manner that made me realize he, too, was not unlike Vyaan in his approach.

As everyone else left for work or their daily activities, the house became quieter, and it was just the women—Vyaan’s mother, Aunt Roopi, Zora, and Riya—left in the dining area.

The atmosphere shifted to a more relaxed and informal tone. Conversations flowed more freely, and there was a sense of camaraderie as they discussed various topics and tended to the remaining preparations for the day. It was a chance for them to bond and share moments of ease without the presence of the men in the household.

"Zora, Riya, I'll change and come," I said, standing up from the table.

"Yeah, Bhabhi, I'll tour the house," Riya responded with enthusiasm.

"Okay, you both explore. I'm going to write," Zora said, settling into a corner with her notebook.

With that, I headed to my room to change, while Riya and Zora went about their respective activities, leaving me to prepare for the rest of the day.

As we headed out of the dining area, the house felt quieter with only the soft hum of activity in the background. Riya and Zora made their way to explore different parts of the house, while I went to my room to change.

The transition from the bustling dining room to the quieter, more personal spaces of the house was marked by a sense of calm. I could hear the distant sounds of Riya’s cheerful voice and Zora’s focused scribbling, a reminder that the day was unfolding in its own way, with each of us finding our own space and rhythm.

When I reached my  room. I mean Vyaan’s, I paused for a moment at the door. The space was distinctly his, with a blend of elegance and personal touches that spoke to his tastes.

Stepping inside, I took in the surroundings, noting the subtle decor and the organized chaos of a room that was both functional and personal. I moved to the wardrobe to pick out something more comfortable, preparing to change from the saree into something more relaxed for the rest of the day.

I opened my phone to check for any messages from my family. Scrolling through the notifications, I looked for updates, words of encouragement, or any news from home. The familiar comfort of their messages provided a brief escape from the current setting, offering a connection to my life outside the new and complex environment I was navigating.

Among the messages, I found a mix of well-wishes and updates from relatives and cousins. Some messages were filled with cheerful greetings and congratulations, while others provided updates on family news and events.

I took a moment to read through each message, feeling a sense of warmth from the familiar words and the support they offered. It was comforting to be reminded of my connections back home, even as I adjusted to my new life.

Suddenly, an unfamiliar number caught my eye. I hesitated for a moment before opening the message, curiosity and caution mingling as I wondered who it could be. The text might hold important information or simply be a random message, but either way, it was worth checking.

The message read, "I told you, little butterfly, not to let him touch you."

My heart skipped a beat as I stared at the text. The tone was unsettling and the reference to "little butterfly" was eerie, evoking a sense of unease. It was clear this message was meant for me, but the sender's identity and intent were both alarming and unclear. I felt a chill run down my spine, and my mind raced with questions about who could have sent this and what their motives might be.

Realization hit me like a cold wave—it was the same person who had been haunting my thoughts since yesterday. The message only deepened my sense of unease, connecting this unsettling communication to the events that had transpired.

I felt a surge of anxiety, the sender’s intent becoming even more ominous as it seemed to reference Vyaan and my interactions. My mind raced to understand why this person was reaching out and what they wanted from me.

I quickly blocked the number, feeling a sense of urgency to cut off any further communication from this unsettling sender. As I did so, a mix of relief and lingering anxiety settled over me. Blocking the number was a necessary step to regain some control, but the unsettling nature of the message still weighed heavily on my mind.