As the first light of dawn gently spilled into the room, Drishti slowly opened her eyes. The events of the previous night still weighed heavily on her mind, but the sight of Rakshit sleeping peacefully beside her offered a strange sense of solace. For a moment, she simply watched him, taking in the rare softness of his features. His face, usually so composed and guarded, was relaxed in sleep, revealing a side of him she seldom saw.

She took a deep breath, her thoughts swirling. "I won't mind whatever happened last night. I need to forget it all." She whispered to herself, trying to convince her heart to let go of the emotions tugging at her. "I have to distract myself from it." It was easier said than done, but she was determined to push forward, to focus on the present.

Careful not to disturb him, Drishti slipped out of bed and headed to the bathroom.

As Drishti stepped out of the bathroom, the soft pink saree clinging to her damp skin, she felt a renewed sense of determination. Today was about letting go of the heaviness from the night before. She had made up her mind—she would not allow her emotions to dictate her actions, at least not today. Her hair, still damp from the shower, fell in loose waves over her shoulders, and she adorned herself with a pair of delicate silver jhumkas that swayed gently with each movement.

The pink saree brought out the warmth in her complexion, and as she looked in the mirror, she felt a flicker of confidence returning. She whispered a quiet prayer, hoping that today would be different, that the day’s festivities would provide a much-needed distraction.

As she walked back into the room, she couldn’t help but pause for a moment. Rakshit was still in bed, his face relaxed and peaceful in sleep. For all his sharp edges and cold demeanor, there was something undeniably innocent about him when he slept, something that tugged at Drishti’s heartstrings in ways she didn’t want to acknowledge.

For a few moments, she simply stood there, watching him. The way his chest rose and fell with each breath, the slight furrow in his brow that remained even in sleep—it was a sight that made her heart ache, but also one that she found oddly comforting.

"Why does he have to be so... human in these moments?" she thought to herself, feeling a pang of something she couldn’t quite name.

With a sigh, she decided it was time to wake him. Leaning down, she called softly, "Mr. Shergill, its morning. Wakeyy wakeyy!!"

He stirred slightly, his face scrunching up in the way it often did when he was annoyed by something. "Kya hua?" he mumbled, still half-asleep.

“Ganesh Chaturthi hai kal. Aunty ne shopping ke liye jaane ko kaha tha, bhool gaye?” she reminded him, her voice gentle but firm.

He let out a groggy groan, finally opening his eyes. As he blinked away the remnants of sleep, his gaze landed on her, and for a moment, he simply stared.

The sight of Drishti in that soft pink saree, her damp hair cascading over her shoulders, and those delicate jhumkas swaying slightly as she looked down at him—it was enough to leave him momentarily speechless. There was something ethereal about her in that moment, something that made his heart skip a beat.

"Why does she have to look so… breathtaking?" he thought, irritation and admiration battling within him.

His initial annoyance at being woken up early faded as he took in the full sight of her. She looked like a vision of calm and serenity, but he knew better. Beneath that calm exterior was a storm—one that he was both intrigued and terrified of.

“Ohh… subah subah shuru ho gayi Madonna” he muttered, trying to mask his feelings with sarcasm.

Drishti rolled her eyes at his words. “Uth kar ready ho jaiye, Mr. Shergill. We’re going shopping together today, remember?”

“Why do I feel like you’re enjoying this a bit too much?” he teased, finally pushing himself up from the bed.

“Maybe I am” she shot back, a playful smirk dancing on her lips. “Now, get up, or we’ll never get through the day.”

He sighed, resigning himself to the inevitable. After all, he knew there was no point in arguing with her once she had made up her mind.

As he stepped into the bathroom to freshen up, Drishti couldn’t help but smile to herself. Despite everything, there was something undeniably amusing about the way they interacted—this push and pull, this constant battle of wills. It was exhausting at times, but today, she was determined to find some joy in it.

When Rakshit emerged a few minutes later, he had swapped his usual formal attire for something more casual—a dark gray t-shirt and a pair of well-fitted jeans. The simplicity of his outfit made him look effortlessly handsome, and Drishti couldn’t help but appreciate the change. He looked more approachable, more relaxed, and for a brief moment, she allowed herself to enjoy the sight.

As he ran a hand through his still-damp hair, Rakshit caught her staring at him, and a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Like what you see, Mrs. Shergill?”

Drishti rolled her eyes, refusing to let him get to her. “Don’t flatter yourself, Mr. Shergill. We have shopping to do.”

Rakshit chuckled as they made their way downstairs, where a quick breakfast awaited them. They exchanged more teasing remarks as they ate, the tension from last night seemingly forgotten, replaced by a playful energy that carried them through the morning.

━━༻❁༺━━

After breakfast, they both went towards Mahima and touched her feet.

"Jeete rho" She blessed them, her voice light.

"So, going for shopping as I said?" She spoke, staring at both of them.

"Yeah yeah. Your bahu woke me up early in the morning for this." He spoke with a hint of annoyance in his voice as his gaze briefly shifted over Drishti.

"That's because I told her to." Mahima spoke, clearly enjoying their morning banter.

Drishti looked up at Rakshit, pressing her lips together, a victory joy in her eyes as he made a face and rolled his eyes.

"Yeah yeah whatever. Now, let's go Mrs. Shergill" he said and started to walk away with Drishti by his side. Mahima stared at their disappearing figure, her face having a soft look on them.

"Finally... he's happy after a long time." She whispered to herself, a soft smile playing on her lips as she realized that Rakshit's marriage with Drishti wasn't that much of a bad idea as she believed it to be.

━━༻❁༺━━

CAR RIDE

Walking outside the mansion, they headed towards the car. Rakshit slid into the driver’s seat, while Drishti took her place beside him. As he started the engine, he asked, “So, Mrs. Shergill, where are we headed? The mall?”

Drishti shook her head. “No, let’s go to the nearby market instead. It’s more festive, and we’ll find unique things there.”

Rakshit raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised by her request. The mall was more their speed—clean, organized, and predictable. The market was anything but. Still, he found himself nodding in agreement. “Alright then, to the market we go.”

The drive was relatively quiet, save for the occasional comment from Drishti about the preparations for Ganesh Chaturthi she spotted along the way. Rakshit mostly kept his eyes on the road, but he couldn’t help glancing at her every now and then. There was a certain glow to her today, a lightness that seemed to radiate from her, and he found himself inexplicably drawn to it.

As they approached the market, the streets became busier, more vibrant. Drishti’s eyes widened in awe at the sight of the colorful stalls, the vibrant decorations, and the throngs of people moving about, all immersed in the festive spirit.

“This is beautiful” she murmured, more to herself than to Rakshit. She turned to him, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “You’ve never tried street food, have you?”

Rakshit shook his head, a slight frown forming. “No. Why would I?”

Drishti’s expression turned mischievous as she unbuckled her seatbelt and got out of the car. She walked around to his side and opened the door, pulling him out with her. “Come on, Mr. Shergill. It’s time to explore the city properly.”

He hesitated, but the sheer enthusiasm in her voice was contagious. With a resigned sigh, he allowed her to lead him into the heart of the market.

━━༻❁༺━━

MARKET AREA

The first stop was a pani puri stall. The vendor was quick, his hands moving with practiced precision as he prepared the small, hollow puris filled with spicy water and chutney. Drishti’s eyes lit up as she ordered a plate for herself, turning to Rakshit with a grin.

"Bhaiya! Ek plate pani puri laga do." She spoke, her voice having a hint of excitement.

"Abhi lijiye madam ji!"

“This is the best” she said, popping one into her mouth and savoring the burst of flavors as the vendor served her a plate of pani puri.

Rakshit watched her with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. He had never seen her so carefree, so completely immersed in something as simple as street food.

She offered him a pani puri, her eyes twinkling with enthusiasm.

"Try kijiye Mr. Shergill!"

He hesitated but eventually took it. The explosion of flavors—the tanginess, the spice, the crunch—was unlike anything he had tasted before.

“It’s… different” he admitted, making a face as the spice hit him, but Drishti only laughed.

“Different is good” she said, grabbing another puri.

Next, they made their way to a papdi chaat stall. The vendor layered crispy papdis with yogurt, chutneys, and a sprinkling of spices, creating a colorful and appetizing dish. Drishti was in her element, explaining each ingredient to Rakshit as she took a bite.

“Here, try this!” she said, offering him a spoonful.

Rakshit took it, his eyes widening slightly at the contrast between the cool yogurt and the spicy chutneys. It was an odd combination, but somehow, it worked.

“You really enjoy this, don’t you?” he asked, watching her with a soft smile as she happily devoured the chaat.

“I do. But what makes you think like that?” she replied, her voice full of warmth.

"Your smile" he spoke, his eyes boring into hers.

She laughed again, “It’s the little things that make life fun, Mr. Shergill.”

They continued their food adventure with momos at the next stall. Drishti eagerly ordered a plate, explaining that these steamed dumplings were a popular street food. As they both bit into the soft, doughy parcels filled with spiced vegetables and chicken, Rakshit found himself appreciating the simplicity of the moment.

“This is quite a change from the fancy dinners we usually have” he remarked.

Drishti smiled, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Exactly. Sometimes it’s nice to step out of the routine and just enjoy life.”

As they moved from stall to stall, trying different street foods, Rakshit noticed how Drishti seemed like a completely different person. She was like a bird set free, flitting from one stall to the next, her laughter ringing through the air. And as strange as it all was for him, he couldn’t deny that he was enjoying himself.

━━༻❁༺━━

BACK TO THE CAR

As they both returned to the car, Drishti was all smiles, her eyes still sparkling with the joy of their impromptu market adventure. Rakshit, on the other hand, found himself unusually quiet. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy their time together—far from it—but the ease with which Drishti embraced the simple pleasures of life had left him slightly unsettled. She was so carefree, so effortlessly happy, and it made him wonder if perhaps he had been missing out on something all along.

“Alright, Mrs. Shergill” he said, breaking the silence as he started the engine, “let’s head to the mall now. We’ve still got a lot of shopping to do.”

Drishti nodded, still buzzing with excitement. As they drove towards the mall, she couldn’t stop herself from chattering away, pointing out various sights along the way, and sharing memories from her childhood when she used to visit markets like the one they just explored. Rakshit found himself listening without any complaints, her voice washing over him like a soothing balm. It was rare for him to feel so at ease, especially when someone else was doing all the talking, but with Drishti, it felt… natural.

When they finally reached the mall, the atmosphere changed. The bustling crowds and gleaming stores were more in line with what Rakshit was used to. Yet, there was something almost comforting about knowing they had shared a different side of the city together, away from the glitz and glamour.

They moved through the mall efficiently, with Drishti picking out decorations for Ganesh Chaturthi while Rakshit focused on selecting gifts for his family. Despite the earlier lightheartedness, there was an underlying tension between them that neither could quite shake off—an awareness of the closeness they had experienced earlier in the day, and perhaps a reluctance to let it fade.

As the hours passed and their shopping bags grew heavier, the day slowly began to wind down. By the time they were finished, the sky outside had begun to darken, casting the world in shades of deep blue and purple. The evening was beautiful, the air warm and filled with the sounds of the city winding down.

━━༻❁༺━━

BACK TO SHERGILL MANSION

As they drove back towards the Shergill mansion, Rakshit noticed the first few drops of rain splattering against the windshield. The rain quickly grew heavier, and before long, it was pouring down in torrents, the water drumming loudly on the roof of the car. The rhythmic tapping of raindrops against the windshield was soothing, almost hypnotic, but then he saw movement out of the corner of his eye.

Drishti’s reaction was immediate. She looked out of the window, a wide grin spreading across her face as the rain came down in sheets. Without a moment’s hesitation, she turned to Rakshit, her eyes gleaming with excitement.

“Mr. Shergill, stop the car!” she exclaimed.

Rakshit glanced at her, confused. “What? Why?”

“Just stop the car!” she insisted, her voice bubbling with laughter.

Reluctantly, Rakshit pulled over to the side of the road, turning to Drishti with a raised eyebrow. “What are you—”

But before he could finish his sentence, Drishti had already unbuckled her seatbelt and was stepping out of the car, right into the pouring rain.

“Mrs. Shergill!” Rakshit called after her, but she was already outside, laughing as the rain soaked through her saree, making the pink fabric cling to her curves.

She looked up at the sky, spinning around with her arms outstretched, completely lost in the moment. Her damp hair whipped around her face, and her laughter rang out, blending with the sound of the rain. It was a sight that left Rakshit momentarily breathless.

He watched as she threw her head back, letting the rain drench her. The fabric of her saree quickly darkened and clung to her, the soft pink turning into a deep, vibrant hue against her skin. Her damp hair, now sticking to her face and neck, added to the effect, making her look ethereal, almost like a vision from a dream.

For a moment, Rakshit was stunned. The sight of her—carefree, lost in the joy of the rain—did something to him. It was as if time had slowed down, and all he could see was her, spinning and laughing in the downpour. She looked so alive, so different from the composed, sharp-tongued woman he had married. There was something magnetic about the way she moved, completely at ease with herself and the world around her.

His breath caught in his throat, and his chest tightened with an emotion he didn’t fully understand. There was a certain vulnerability in her abandon that made his heart ache—a need to protect, to hold her close. But there was also an admiration, a deep-seated awe at how effortlessly she could find joy in something as simple as rain.

For a long moment, all he could do was watch her. The way the rain fell on her, the way her smile lit up her entire face—she looked like she belonged to the storm, like she was part of it, wild and untamed.

“Come on, Mr. Shergill!” she called out to him, her voice full of joy. “Don’t just sit there! Get out and enjoy the rain!”

Rakshit hesitated, torn between the urge to join her and the voice in his head telling him that this was ridiculous. But then she ran back to the car, pulling the door open and grabbing his hand.

“Gosh, you’re so scared to enjoy life” she teased, tugging at his arm. “Come on, Mr. Shergill, live a little!”

There was something about the way she looked at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief, that made it impossible to say no. With a sigh that was more of a surrender, Rakshit stepped out of the car, immediately feeling the cold rain against his skin.

Drishti laughed, a sound that was as warm as the rain was cold. She pulled him further out into the open, her hand still gripping his, and before he knew it, they were both standing in the middle of the deserted road, the rain pouring down around them.

“See?” Drishti said, her voice softer now as she looked up at him. “It’s not so bad, is it?”

Rakshit shook his head, unable to take his eyes off her. There was something mesmerizing about the way she moved, the way she smiled up at him as if they were the only two people in the world. And in that moment, it felt like they were.

Without thinking, he reached out, brushing a strand of wet hair away from her face. Her eyes met his, and for a long moment, neither of them moved. The rain continued to fall around them, but it felt like time had slowed down, the world narrowing to just the two of them.

Drishti’s breath caught in her throat as she realized how close they were. She could feel the warmth of his body despite the cold rain, the steady beat of his heart as he stepped even closer. There was an intensity in his gaze that made her pulse quicken, and she found herself leaning into him, her eyes fluttering shut.

Rakshit’s hand lingered on her cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against her skin. The air between them was charged, electric, and for a brief moment, it felt like the world was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.

But just as quickly as the moment came, it was gone. Drishti pulled away, breaking the spell, and Rakshit let his hand drop to his side, a mix of emotions swirling in his chest.

However, as much as he was entranced by her, a part of him was also concerned. The rain was cold, and despite her carefree demeanor, he knew she would feel it soon.

Her laughter died down as soon as she met his gaze again. The look in his eyes was intense, a mixture of emotions she couldn’t quite decipher. But before she could say anything, he shrugged off his black jacket and draped it over her shoulders, the heavy fabric covering her back and shielding her from the rain.

“Are you crazy?” he muttered, his voice gruff, but there was no real anger in it. “You’ll catch a cold out here.”

Drishti looked up at him, her eyes wide and surprised. The gesture, so simple yet so unexpected, left her speechless for a moment. She could feel the warmth of his jacket seeping into her, contrasting with the coolness of the rain. It was an oddly intimate moment, one that made her heart flutter in a way she hadn’t felt before.

Rakshit didn’t move, his hands lingering on the jacket as he made sure it covered her properly. His fingers brushed against her damp skin, and he felt a shiver—not from the cold, but from the sensation of being so close to her, from the realization that he wanted to be the one who kept her safe, kept her warm.

They stood there for a moment, the rain falling around them. All that mattered was this small act of kindness, this brief moment where words weren’t needed to express what was in their hearts.

Finally, Rakshit let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding and stepped back, though the connection between them lingered in the air, like an unspoken promise.

Drishti laughed again, though it was a softer, more subdued sound this time.
"C'mon, it's not much of a big deal!"

"We're going back now. Let's go." He held her hand and took her towards the car.

As they climbed back into the car, Rakshit glanced at Drishti, who was still smiling, though there was a hint of something else in her eyes—something he couldn’t quite place. He started the engine, the sound of the rain muffled now by the car’s interior.

“Thank you, Mr. Shergill” Drishti said softly, her voice full of warmth.

“For what?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“For letting go” she replied, her gaze meeting his. “Even if just for a moment.”

Rakshit didn’t respond, but as they drove back to the mansion, he couldn’t help but feel like something had shifted between them—something small, but significant.

━━༻❁༺━━

MANSION

By the time they arrived back at the Shergill mansion, the rain had lightened, though the sky was still overcast. They both stepped out of the car, their clothes still damp and their hair dripping with rainwater. But instead of the tension that usually hung between them, there was a sense of quiet camaraderie—a shared experience that had brought them closer, even if neither of them would admit it.

As they entered the mansion, Drishti let out a soft sigh, the warmth of the house a welcome contrast to the chill of the rain. She glanced at Rakshit, who was shaking his head slightly, droplets of water flying from his hair.

“You look like a drowned rat, Mr. Shergill” she teased, a playful glint in her eyes.

“And you look like a drenched cat, Mrs. Shergill” he shot back, though there was no malice in his tone. If anything, there was a hint of affection.

They stood there for a moment, just looking at each other, and for the first time in a long while, there was no need for words. The tension, the unresolved issues—they were still there, but for now, they were buried beneath the layers of rain-soaked clothes and shared laughter.

━━༻❁༺━━

THEIR ROOM

After their rain-soaked adventure, both Drishti and Rakshit changed into dry clothes, trying to shake off the chill. Drishti opted for a soft, cotton kurta that clung lightly to her damp skin, the simple comfort of it soothing her after the day’s excitement. She grabbed a towel and started drying her hair, rubbing the strands as she stood by the dresser. The soft, rhythmic motion helped calm the lingering energy from the day.

Rakshit, now dressed in a casual t-shirt and trousers, was by the window, staring out at the light drizzle that continued outside. The evening had left him with more than just memories of their playful moments—there was a warmth in his chest that he couldn’t quite explain. It was as though the usual tension between them had been washed away with the rain.

Drishti, still toweling her hair, glanced over at Rakshit, who seemed lost in his thoughts. For a moment, she just watched him, the lines of his face softened by the dim light of the room. It struck her how peaceful he looked, a stark contrast to the guarded man she had known. Her heart swelled with an unfamiliar emotion—one she wasn’t quite ready to name.

“Mrs. Shergill” Rakshit said suddenly, turning to face her. His voice was soft, missing its usual sarcasm. “You should rest. It’s been a long day.”

She looked up, meeting his gaze. There was a gentleness in his eyes that took her by surprise. “Maybe later” she replied with a small smile. “But first, we need to eat. I don’t think either of us has had dinner yet.”

Rakshit blinked, as if just realizing how hungry he was. The events of the day had kept them so busy that food had been the last thing on his mind. He nodded, “You’re right. Let’s eat.”

Drishti left the room and made her way downstairs to the kitchen. The house was quiet, with everyone else having already eaten and gone to bed. She prepared two plates of a simple dinner—dal, rice, and some leftover sabzi—and brought them back up to their room.

As she entered, Rakshit was already sitting at the small table near the window, waiting for her. She set the tray down and they both began to eat in comfortable silence. The day’s events seemed to have brought them closer, and the usual sharp edges in their conversations were noticeably absent.

After finishing their meal, Drishti collected the plates and quietly headed back downstairs. She knew Rakshit had a habit of drinking chai before bed, and she decided to surprise him by making it herself. The process of brewing the tea was soothing, the familiar aroma filling the kitchen and bringing a sense of calm. As the tea simmered, she poured it into two mugs and placed them on a tray.

Returning to their room, Drishti found Rakshit sitting on the edge of the bed, deep in thought. She walked over with the tray, and as he looked up, a flicker of surprise crossed his face.

“I thought you might like some chai after a cold shower” she said softly, handing him one of the mugs.

A small smile tugged at the corners of Rakshit’s mouth. “Thank you, Mrs. Shergill. Though I shouldn't thank you because you were the one who dragged me in that cold shower but anyways. You’ve been full of surprises today.”

Drishti sat beside him, taking a sip from her own mug. “I guess today was a day for trying new things” she replied, the warmth of the chai spreading through her, matching the warmth she felt in his presence.

They sat there in silence, drinking their tea, the weight of the day gradually lifting from their shoulders. The room was filled with the comforting sounds of the rain outside and the quiet clink of their mugs against the tray. It was a simple, intimate moment, yet it held a significance that neither of them could quite put into words.

As they finished their tea, Drishti set the tray aside and stretched, feeling the day’s exhaustion finally catching up to her. She glanced over at Rakshit, who seemed more relaxed than she had ever seen him.

“Shall we call it a night, Mr. Shergill?” she asked, her voice soft and tinged with the weariness of the day.

Rakshit nodded, setting his mug down. “I think that’s a good idea, Mrs. Shergill.”

They both got up and prepared for bed, the atmosphere in the room warm and serene. When they finally lay down, the space between them felt smaller, the usual barriers softened by the day’s unexpected turn of events.

As they settled into the quiet darkness, the sound of the rain continued to play its soothing rhythm against the window, lulling them into a peaceful sleep. Drishti closed her eyes, a small smile still on her lips as she drifted off, feeling a rare sense of contentment in the shared warmth of their closeness.

And beside her, Rakshit, too, found himself succumbing to the calm, a strange but welcome peace settling over him as he fell asleep, comforted by the presence of the woman who had, unknowingly, started to touch his heart in ways he hadn’t expected.