Chapter 4: Ties That Bind

I didn’t have much of an impression of Arjun—too many sons of officials, too many faces at family gatherings. But a memory surfaced: a big guy, like a wall, who made me cry when I bumped into him. He’d tried to wipe my tears, but his sleeve scratched my cheek. I’d had to push him away and use my own handkerchief, calling him a fool but not really angry.

Was that big guy Arjun?

He got a car and personally drove me back home. The drive was quiet, the city rolling by outside—Gulmohar trees, the distant honk of an auto, the call of a chaiwala, the smell of wet earth after a brief drizzle.

My brother waited at the gate, his face dark. I stepped out, feeling nervous, and hid behind Arjun. Arjun glanced back, shifted to shield me, and saluted my brother. “Bhaiya.”

My brother’s voice was strange. “Arjun? Why are you with Ananya?”

I tugged Arjun’s sleeve, not wanting my brother to know I’d been drinking.

He caught on and said calmly, “I happened to meet Ananya alone outside. I was concerned for her safety, so I escorted her back.”

I peeked out from behind him, meeting my brother’s stern gaze.

“Come here.”

I reluctantly stepped out, joining my brother. He saved my dignity by saying nothing more in front of Arjun.

We walked through the gates together. After a few steps, I remembered something and turned back.

Arjun was still standing there, looking at me. Surprised by my glance, his eyes flickered, then he smiled.

I ran up to him and returned his handkerchief. Leaving the restaurant with a tear-stained face was unsightly, so I’d ended up using Arjun’s handkerchief. It was plain, but the material was exceptionally soft and fine.

Arjun took it back, then said, “Ananya, can I see you again?”

His gaze was candid and intense, fixed on me.

Before I could answer, urgent footsteps sounded. Kabir hurried over, slightly out of breath. “Ananya.”

He paused, saw Arjun, and the anxiety faded from his face, replaced by coldness. His tone was more distant than ever: “It’s good you returned safely.”

I’d been at the restaurant so long, and only now did he come home.

I answered with a simple “Mm,” no longer treating him with the same warmth as before.

He seemed to notice, glanced at Arjun, a flicker of confusion passing over his face, then quickly hidden. He nodded to Arjun. “Thank you, Arjun, for escorting Ananya.”

Arjun gave a faint, mocking smile. “Kabir, you’re too polite. Why would I need your thanks for escorting Ananya?”

Kabir didn’t seem to notice the sarcasm. He looked at me. “When you return, have the maid light the incense I gave you. It’ll help you sleep and calm your mind.”

I didn’t respond, thinking about how Arjun’s gifts were starting to take up too much space in my room.

In the air, the aunties’ commentary scrolled by:

“Why do I feel something’s off? When Kabir realized it was Arjun who brought Ananya back, why did his face look so bad?”

“Does Kabir have possessiveness toward Ananya? Is that it?”

“Don’t mess things up. Wanting everything makes me mad.”

“It’s not really wanting everything. After all, Ananya is Kabir’s childhood friend. Isn’t it normal for him to care?”

Arjun’s face darkened. He was about to speak, but I cut him off and turned to Kabir. “Can you stay at our place tonight?”

Kabir was a little surprised. He pressed his lips together, then the corners of his mouth curved slightly. “All right.”

He glanced at Arjun and nodded politely. “Arjun, you should head back early. Take care on the road.”

Arjun’s chest rose and fell. He couldn’t hide his emotions. His face was gloomy, and his gaze toward me was full of disappointment.

I said, “Arjun, you should go back first. See you another day.”

The light in Arjun’s eyes dimmed. He nodded, his voice a bit hoarse. “Yes.”

My brother couldn’t wait any longer and walked inside first. Kabir followed at my side, chatting about his recent experiences.

I walked silently, treating his words as background noise, thinking that every time I saw the things Kabir had sent filling my room, the years of feelings would only become harder to erase.

Not making a decision would be like death by a thousand cuts.

Tonight, I would return all the things Kabir had given me.

Kabir stayed in my brother’s room. I asked my brother not to leave yet, and to bring Kabir with him to the main hall. With my brother as a witness, it would save unnecessary trouble.

I let them sit and wait, then told the housekeeper, “Bring out and count all the things Kabir has sent.”

My brother paused as he drank his chai, raising his brows and looking at Kabir—

I noticed how the ceiling fan above rattled softly, and the scent of cardamom drifted in from the kitchen, as if even the house itself held its breath for what was to come. Outside, thunder rumbled—a storm was coming, and this time, I would be the one to decide who stayed and who left.