Page 147 of No Boss
Nothing.
Of course.
He returned to the window. The aunties had moved on to flowers. Meera laughed at something her mother mentioned, head tilted, completely at ease.
That night, he went to bed at eleven and set an alarm for two thirty.
He lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling, wondering how his life had reached a point where he was being ignored inside his own ancestral home.
The reply came at eleven forty-seven.
One word.
“Yes.”
He read it. Again. Turned the phone face down and closed his eyes.
For the first time in three nights, he slept. Like a man who had just regained access to oxygen.
Morning One
At two forty-five, she sat at the edge of her bed and removed her anklets, placing them on the dressing table.
At this hour, that soft chime through the Haveli would not sound delicate. It would sound haunted. The Haveli did not need stories of a wandering bridal ghost.
She slipped into her slippers, wrapped her dupatta around her shoulders, and stepped out.
The corridors seemed to watch as she reached the hidden doorway. Her palm pressed to the stone.
It gave.
She stepped through.
His hand caught her waist before her second step.
She gasped. His arm closed around her, pulling her against him, turning her to the wall in one smooth motion.
Cold stone at her back. Heat in front of her.
One hand at her waist. The other braced beside her.
She looked up.
He was already watching her.
The same intensity, now stripped of distance and interruption. Jaw set. Eyes dark.
A man who had waited. A man who had been ignored.
“You did not answer my calls.”
Low. Controlled.
“There were people everywhere…”
“You did not reply to my messages.”
“I was…”
