Chapter - 41
Shivanya
It had been five days ever since that night and after he made me come over and over again, he made sweet, slow, torturous love to me and every time I thought about that night, my face would set itself on fire.
The way he had held my face in his hands as though I was something impossibly precious. The way he had looked me in the eyes and erased every single insecurity I had carried for years with nothing more than his words. The way he had loved me so patiently that, for the first time in a very long time, I had forgotten what it felt like to criticise how I looked.
A car behind me honked, pulling me back to the present.
I blinked, realizing the traffic signal had turned green almost ten seconds ago.
"Focus, Shivanya!" I muttered to myself, shaking my head before pressing the accelerator.
The rest of the drive was spent trying very hard not to think about my husband.
It didn't work.
Every billboard somehow reminded me of him. Every song on the radio seemed unnecessarily romantic, forcing me to switch stations twice before giving up altogether and driving the rest of the way in silence.
By the time I reached the High Court, I had finally managed to gather myself.
Or so I thought.
I picked up my files, adjusted the black advocate's coat over my shoulders, tied my bands properly in front of the rear-view mirror and took one long breath before stepping out of the car.
The moment my heels touched the stone pavement outside the court complex, the dreamy wife disappeared.
Advocate Shivanya Chopra walked in.
"Good morning, ma'am."
One of the junior associates from office greeted me as he hurried past with two files tucked beneath his arm.
"Morning," I smiled before glancing at the digital display board.
Courtroom No. 32.
I adjusted the strap of my laptop bag on my shoulder and made my way upstairs, mentally going over my submissions one last time.
Today's matter was a commercial arbitration petition. It wasn't one of our biggest matters, but it was important enough for the client to have called me three times since yesterday evening. Fortunately, I had spent almost the entire previous night preparing the brief, marking every relevant judgment and making notes against each possible objection the Bench could raise.
The moment our matter was called, everything outside the courtroom ceased to exist.
"May it please Your Lordships."
For the next hour, nothing else occupied my mind.
The Bench questioned the maintainability of one of our prayers almost immediately, exactly as I had anticipated. Opening my compilation, I took Their Lordships through the arbitration agreement clause by clause before placing the judgments I had already marked with coloured tabs. The opposing counsel attempted to distinguish the precedents I had relied upon, but the Bench wasn't convinced. Within minutes, Their Lordships themselves pointed out the inconsistency in his submissions, allowing me to continue uninterrupted.
I answered every question carefully, referred to the record whenever necessary and resisted the urge to rush through my arguments.
"Never answer the question you're expecting. Answer the one the Court has actually asked."
The advice had stayed with me ever since.
By the time the matter was adjourned with interim protection in our client's favour, I allowed myself the smallest smile.
It had been a good hearing.
I thanked the Court, collected my files, exchanged a few words with the instructing representative from the client's legal team and stepped out into the long corridor, already making a mental note of everything I needed to update the office about.
I had barely taken a few steps when my phone vibrated.
Vihaan.
A smile threatened to appear immediately.
I answered the call.
"Hello?"
"Finished?" His voice was calm, exactly as it always was.
"Just now. We got the interim relief."
"I know."
I frowned.
"What do you mean, you know?"
There was a pause.
Then he said, almost casually, "Turn around, Sunshine."
I did.
And immediately forgot about the call.
Leaning against one of the tall stone pillars at the far end of the corridor stood Vihaan.
His black coat was still buttoned, his bands perfectly in place, one hand tucked inside the pocket of his dark grey trousers while the other held two paper cups of coffee. Around him, advocates hurried in every direction, juniors rushed past carrying bulky briefs and clients walked anxiously between courtrooms.
He looked completely unaffected by the chaos.
Completely in control.
Completely... Vihaan.
The moment our eyes met, the corner of his mouth lifted ever so slightly.
Not enough for anyone else to notice.
Just enough for me.
He lifted one of the coffee cups in silent offering before disconnecting the call, never once taking his eyes off me.
I stood there for a second, unable to stop smiling.
Apparently the Managing Partner of the biggest law firm in the country had taken time out of his schedule to watch his wife argue before the Court.
I walked towards him, trying very hard to maintain the calm, professional expression I had worn inside the courtroom just a few minutes ago.
It lasted exactly three steps.
By the time I reached him, I was already smiling.
"You were here?" I asked, stopping in front of him.
"I was."
"For my matter?"
"I was free." he said, when I knew the truth that he was not.
He was never free.
I stared at him.
"Liar." I said, narrowing my eyes.
He didn't defend himself. Instead, he simply held the coffee out towards me again, waiting patiently until I accepted it.
I was just about to thank him when my phone went off. I looked at the screen to find Maa calling.
"Good morning, Maa! How are you and Papa? And how is my little Chase?" I asked, smiling the moment I heard her voice.
"Good morning, beta. We are all good and your little son is currently chewing one of Papa's slippers as though we haven't fed him in days." she laughed. "I called to tell you that we're staying in Delhi for another week. Your Maasi has completely refused to let us leave."
"Another week?" I smiled. "Poor Papa. He's never going to win against Maasi."
"I can hear both of you!" Papa's voice came from somewhere in the background.
"You are supposed to." Maa replied without missing a beat before laughing again.
I couldn't help laughing with her.
"I am going to miss the three of you." I added, sighing.
Really, it had been so long!
"We miss you too, Shivanya beta but it's just a week and we will be back before you know it!" she replied and I could hear the smile in her voice.
"I know... the house feels too quiet without the three of you. Even Chase isn't there to create his daily disasters."
"Oh, don't worry, he is creating enough disasters here. Yesterday he stole your Papa's reading glasses. This morning it was the slipper. At this rate, we'll have to apologise to the airline before bringing him back."
I laughed again, shaking my head.
"That sounds exactly like him."
"It is exactly like him." Maa replied fondly before her tone softened. "And how are you, beta?"
"I'm good, Maa."
"No..." she corrected gently. "I'm asking how you really are."
I instinctively looked up.
Vihaan was still standing in front of me, one hand tucked into his pocket while the other casually held both our coffees now. He wasn't trying to overhear the conversation. He wasn't checking his watch impatiently either, despite the fact that I knew he had an afternoon packed with meetings.
He simply waited.
"I really am good, Maa. I am happy." I said and even though I was speaking to her, my eyes were deep diving into Vihaan's whose lips had lifted in the smallest of smiles after hearing my words.
There was silence on the other end for a brief moment before Maa let out a soft sigh.
"I know you are."
I smiled.
"I can hear it in your voice."
"You can?"
"A mother always can." she replied gently. "I prayed every single day that the two of you would find your way to each other. Not because I doubted either of you, but because both of you are so stubborn that you would rather keep your feelings locked inside than speak them aloud."
I laughed softly, my gaze never leaving Vihaan.
"I think we're getting better at that."
"I know you are." she said warmly. "Now stop standing in the middle of the Court talking to me. Go have lunch with my son."
"How do you know that he is with me?" I asked, genuinely curious.
"I guessed." she replied, laughing.
"I love you, Maa!" I just felt like saying it so I did.
"I love you too, my cutie. Now go and give me a call tonight!" she replied and I smiled.
"Will do, bye maa." I said before we hung up.
I slipped my phone back into my bag, the smile refusing to leave my face.
"Come." he said softly, his gaze never leaving mine.
Without thinking, I placed my hand in his.
His fingers closed around mine almost instinctively, warm and familiar, and before I could ask where we were going, he had already started walking, gently leading me through the crowd of advocates, clients and junior associates filling the corridor.
My steps matched his without effort.
There was something strangely comforting about the way he held my hand. It wasn't possessive, nor was it hesitant. It was simply certain. Like he had no intention of letting go until he absolutely had to.
We stepped out of the court building together, the afternoon sun replacing the cool stone corridors behind us.
His car was already waiting near the entrance.
Only when we reached it did he finally let go of my hand.
He walked around to the passenger side, opened the door for me and waited until I had settled inside before closing it gently.
A few seconds later, he slid into the driver's seat, placed both our coffees in the cup holders and started the engine.
Only then did it occur to me.
"Vihaan..." I said, turning towards him as he drove out of the High Court premises.
"Yes Sunshine?" he responded, his eyes remaining on the road.
"My car is still parked inside." I reminded him, glancing back towards the parking area we were leaving behind.
"It won't be for long." he replied calmly.
I frowned.
"What does that mean?" I asked, looking at him in confusion.
"I asked Ramesh to take it home." he answered matter-of-factly as he changed lanes. "He should be here by now."
I stared at him for a moment.
"You already arranged that?" I asked, unable to hide my surprise.
"I did." he replied simply.
"You planned all of this?" I asked, a smile slowly finding its way onto my face.
"I did." he admitted without looking the slightest bit guilty.
I shook my head, unable to stop smiling.
The man had planned everything before I had even walked out of the courtroom.
For the next few minutes, neither of us spoke.
The silence between us was easy, comfortable, broken only by the soft music playing through the speakers and the occasional sounds of Mumbai traffic outside.
I rested my elbow against the window, taking another sip of my coffee before noticing the route he had taken.
I looked ahead.
Then at him.
Then back at the road.
"This isn't the way back to the office." I pointed out, turning slightly in my seat to face him.
"No." he agreed, his hands steady on the steering wheel.
I waited for him to continue.
He didn't.
"Vihaan..." I prompted, unable to hide my curiosity anymore. "Where are we going?"
A smile touched the corner of his lips.
"I am taking my wife out on a date." he said, as though it were the most ordinary thing in the world.
I blinked.
"A date?" I repeated, staring at him.
"Yes, a date." he hummed, his attention still fixed on the road ahead.
"But..." I began, almost laughing in disbelief. "I have three meetings after lunch."
"You had three meetings." he corrected calmly.
"What?" I turned towards him completely.
"I have already had them rescheduled." he replied.
"You rescheduled my meetings?" I asked, my eyes widening.
"I did." he answered with the same calm certainty.
"Without even asking me?" I questioned, though I already knew the answer.
He finally glanced at me for a brief moment before looking back at the road.
"I know my wife well enough to know that she's forgotten what taking a break feels like." he said quietly. "So today, Advocate Shivanya Chopra is on leave."
I couldn't help smiling.
"And who approved my leave?" I asked, trying to sound stern.
"The Managing Partner." he replied without missing a beat. "I hear he is very difficult to argue with."
A laugh escaped me before I could stop it.
"I haven't even objected yet." I pointed out, shaking my head.
"You were about to." he said, the smallest smile still playing on his lips. "I decided to save us both the time."
That was so completely...
Vihaan.
I smiled before turning back towards the window, watching the city slowly go by.
The traffic had thinned considerably now, allowing the car to move at an easy pace. The afternoon sun spilled across Marine Drive in soft golden streaks, the sea glimmering quietly in the distance while the breeze occasionally found its way through the barely-open window.
For the next fifteen minutes, neither of us spoke.
We didn't need to.
Eventually, he slowed the car before pulling into the driveway of a beautiful sea-facing restaurant tucked away from the main road.
I looked out of the window, immediately recognizing it.
"Vihaan..." I said softly, turning towards him in surprise. "This place has a three-month waiting list."
"It did." he replied as he switched the engine off before unfastening his seatbelt.
I narrowed my eyes.
"What did you do?" I asked suspiciously, already knowing there had to be a story behind this.
"The owner is our client." he answered matter-of-factly before stepping out of the car.
I let out an incredulous laugh.
"You used your professional connections to get us a lunch reservation?" I asked as he walked around the car and opened my door.
"I used my professional connections to take my wife on a date." he corrected, holding his hand out to help me out of the car. "There is a difference."
I slipped my hand into his, unable to suppress the smile spreading across my face.
"There really isn't." I laughed as I stepped out.
"There is." he insisted with complete seriousness before intertwining our fingers again. "One sounds unethical."
"And the other?"
"The other sounds like good planning." he replied without the slightest trace of guilt.
I shook my head.
"I hope you know you're impossible." I muttered as we walked towards the entrance.
"I have heard." he answered calmly, glancing down at me for a brief moment.
The hostess greeted him the moment we stepped inside.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Raichand. Your table is ready." she said politely before leading us towards a quiet corner overlooking the sea.
The table was tucked away near the floor-to-ceiling windows, far enough from the rest of the restaurant to offer privacy but close enough to hear the rhythmic sound of the waves outside.
It was beautiful.
I looked at the view for a long moment before turning back to him.
"You planned all of this..." I murmured, still trying to take everything in.
"I did." he admitted as he pulled my chair out before I could sit down.
I settled into the chair, my eyes never leaving him as he walked around the table and took the seat opposite mine.
For a few moments, neither of us reached for the menu.
Neither of us looked away.
Instead...
I simply looked at him.
Really looked at him.
The afternoon sunlight filtered through the glass behind me, catching the sharp lines of his face, softening them just enough to make him look younger than he usually did at the office.
Without the constant interruptions of ringing phones, impatient clients and endless meetings, there was a calmness about him that I realised I had never truly appreciated before.
He noticed.
"What?" he asked, resting his forearms lightly on the table as his eyes searched mine.
I smiled to myself.
"I'm looking at you." I admitted honestly, not bothering to hide it.
His brows lifted ever so slightly.
"And?" he prompted gently, waiting for me to continue.
I shook my head, the smile lingering on my lips.
"I've realised something." I confessed thoughtfully, still studying his face as though I were seeing it from an entirely new perspective.
He remained silent.
Not because he wasn't curious.
Because he knew I would tell him when I was ready.
"I think..." I began slowly, tracing absentminded circles against the condensation on my water glass, "...I've spent the last six months falling in love with a different version of you every single day."
He didn't interrupt.
Not once.
He simply listened.
"And every time I think I've seen all there is to see..." I continued, my eyes returning to his, "...you somehow give me another reason to fall in love with you all over again."
He held my gaze.
Still silent.
Still completely focused on me.
"I knew Advocate Vihaan Raichand." I said with a small smile. "The man who could make an entire courtroom go quiet with a single sentence, the hawk of the court."
I smiled a little wider.
"Then I met the man who told me that he loves me and wants to marry me and issued me an ultimatum that in ten days, I will come running into his arms and become his. He won." I admitted softly.
My voice became quieter.
"Then I met the husband who kissed away every insecurity I had spent years carrying."
I looked around the restaurant briefly before looking back at him.
"And today..." I smiled, warmth spreading through my chest, "...I'm meeting the man who rescheduled an entire afternoon because he wanted to take his wife out on a date."
For the first time since we had sat down, Vihaan looked speechless.
He held my gaze for a long moment before the smallest smile found its way onto his lips.
"I do not think anyone has ever described me quite like that." he admitted, the warmth in his eyes making my own smile grow.
"Well..." I shrugged lightly, reaching for the glass of water in front of me. "Maybe they haven't looked hard enough."
He didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he continued looking at me as though he was still trying to understand how I had managed to see parts of him that he had never intentionally shown anyone.
"What?" I asked eventually, laughing softly because his gaze was beginning to make me self-conscious.
"I'm wondering how I got lucky enough to have my wife speak about me like that." he confessed honestly, leaning back in his chair without taking his eyes off me.
I immediately looked away.
"You've become very unfair lately." I muttered under my breath, feeling my cheeks grow warm all over again.
"I was not trying to be." he replied gently, the corners of his lips lifting ever so slightly.
Before I could think of something to say, the waiter arrived carrying our lunch.
One by one, he placed the dishes in the middle of the table before wishing us a pleasant meal and quietly walking away.
My eyes travelled across the spread before me.
Paneer Lababdar.
Dal Makhani.
Garlic naan.
Jeera rice.
Crispy corn.
My favourite lime soda.
I looked back at Vihaan.
"You ordered all of this?" I asked, glancing from the food back to him in surprise.
"I did." he answered simply, unfolding his napkin onto his lap.
"This..." I pointed at the paneer before looking back at him. "...is my favourite."
"I know." he replied matter-of-factly, serving some onto my plate before touching his own.
"And so is this." I pointed towards the crispy corn, unable to hide my smile.
"I know." he answered again, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"And the garlic naan."
"I know." he repeated patiently, breaking one apart before placing the larger piece onto my plate.
"And the lime soda."
"I know." he said once more, finally looking up at me.
I frowned slightly before looking back down at the table.
Then it struck me.
"Vihaan..." I said slowly, my brows drawing together as I realised something. "Where's your favourite food?"
He looked at the table for a second before looking back at me.
"It's here." he replied calmly, reaching for his glass of water.
I blinked.
"No, it isn't." I argued, shaking my head. "Everything on this table is something I like."
"It is." he insisted quietly, completely unconcerned by my disagreement.
I looked at him in complete confusion.
"I don't understand." I admitted, laughing softly.
A small smile appeared on his face.
"My favourite food..." he began, tearing off a piece of naan before absentmindedly placing it onto my plate first,"...is whatever makes you happiest to eat."
I stared at him.
"That..." I pointed at him with my fork, completely at a loss for words. "...is not a real answer."
"It is for me." he replied without the slightest hesitation before finally serving himself.
I watched him for another few moments before shaking my head.
"You know something?" I asked thoughtfully, still studying him over the rim of my glass.
"What?" he asked, meeting my eyes immediately.
"I don't think you've ever insisted on anything." I observed, trying to think back over the last six months.
His brows lifted ever so slightly.
"I have." he replied quietly.
"No." I smiled, pointing my fork at him again. "Every single time I ask where you want to eat, your answer is, 'Wherever you want, Sunshine.'"
He listened silently.
"Every time I ask which movie you want to watch, you tell me to choose." I continued, unable to stop smiling.
He still didn't interrupt.
"Every time Maa asks you what she'd like to cook for dinner, your answer is always whatever everyone else is having.'" I added, resting my chin lightly against my hand.
His smile deepened just enough for me to notice.
"So..." I tilted my head curiously. "Do you actually have favourites, Mr. Raichand?"
"I do." he answered without thinking twice.
"Really?" I asked, genuinely surprised.
"My favourite place is wherever you are." he replied, looking at me with that quiet certainty that always made my heart skip a beat.
I felt my breath catch.
"My favourite meal..." he continued, reaching across the table to refill my glass before his own, "...is whichever one you are stealing from."
A laugh escaped me despite myself.
"And my favourite day..." he finished, the smile in his eyes somehow warmer than the one on his lips, "...is turning out to be today."
I smiled at him for what felt like the hundredth time that afternoon.
"I think you are trying very hard to make me emotional today." I accused playfully, breaking off a small piece of naan as I looked at him over the table.
"I am taking my wife on a date." he replied simply, serving some dal onto my plate before serving himself. "I believe making you smile is part of the job description."
I laughed, unable to help myself.
"I don't remember discussing any job description." I remarked, reaching for my lime soda.
"You signed it six months ago." he answered with complete seriousness before taking a sip of water.
I narrowed my eyes.
"I most certainly did not." I argued, trying not to smile.
"You did." he insisted calmly. "You just didn't read the fine print."
I gasped dramatically.
"There was fine print?" I asked, placing a hand over my heart in mock betrayal.
"There always is." he replied, the corner of his mouth lifting ever so slightly.
"And what exactly did this mysterious fine print say?" I questioned curiously, leaning forward across the table.
He pretended to think for a moment.
"'The husband reserves the right to spoil his wife whenever he feels like it.'" he answered matter-of-factly before taking another bite of his lunch.
I stared at him.
"You made that up." I declared, pointing my fork at him accusingly.
"I did." he admitted without an ounce of guilt.
"You admitted it so easily!" I laughed in disbelief.
"You would have figured it out eventually." he replied with a small shrug.
I shook my head.
"You know..." I began thoughtfully, stealing a piece of crispy corn from the serving bowl before he could reach for it. "For someone who is known as the most feared corporate lawyer in the country..."
I popped the corn into my mouth.
"...you're actually quite ridiculous."
"I've been called worse." he remarked calmly, reaching for another piece before noticing I had already taken most of them.
I grinned triumphantly.
"You hesitated." I pointed out proudly.
"I did." he agreed, looking at the almost empty bowl.
"You were going to take one."
"I was."
"And now there aren't any left." I said, trying very hard to look innocent.
"There aren't." he observed, glancing from the bowl to me.
I couldn't hold the innocent expression for more than two seconds before laughing.
"You knew I was going to steal them, didn't you?" I asked, already suspecting the answer.
"I did." he replied, completely unfazed.
"Then why didn't you stop me?" I questioned, genuinely confused.
"Because you look unnecessarily pleased with yourself every time you steal food from my plate." he answered, his eyes carrying quiet amusement. "I didn't want to deprive you of that happiness."
I blinked.
"You let me win on purpose?" I asked, narrowing my eyes suspiciously.
"I let you believe you won." he corrected smoothly, cutting a piece of paneer before placing it onto my plate instead of his own.
I laughed so hard that I almost choked on my drink.
"You're impossible!!" I managed between laughs, shaking my head at him.
"I've heard that once or twice." he replied, finally allowing himself a proper smile.
I watched him for a second before something occurred to me.
"Wait..." I said, putting my fork down as a thought crossed my mind. "Is this why Yash bhaiya complains that you let me get away with everything?"
Vihaan looked genuinely thoughtful.
"He does complain about that quite often." he admitted after a moment.
"And?" I prompted eagerly.
"And he is right." he answered without hesitation.
I blinked.
"Just like that?" I asked, surprised by how quickly he'd admitted it.
"Just like that." he confirmed, meeting my gaze steadily.
"But why?" I asked, tilting my head in curiosity.
A fond smile settled on his face.
"Because I have absolutely no interest in winning against you." he replied quietly, picking up his glass. "I spend my entire day negotiating, arguing and proving people wrong. By the time I come home..." He paused, looking at me with a tenderness that immediately softened my heart. "...the last person I want to compete with is my wife."
For a moment, I forgot about the food between us.
I simply looked at him.
Then I sighed dramatically.
"Well, that is very unfortunate." I announced solemnly, trying to hide the smile threatening to break free.
His brows lifted.
"Unfortunate?" he repeated with mild curiosity.
"Yes." I nodded gravely. "Because now I can't even pretend that I beat you fairly."
A soft chuckle escaped him.
"I will make you a deal." he offered, folding his hands on the table as he regarded me with quiet amusement.
"I'm listening." I replied immediately, leaning forward with exaggerated seriousness.
"You can continue believing you have won every argument we've ever had." he said, the hint of mischief returning to his eyes.
"And?" I prompted impatiently.
"In return..." he continued, smiling just enough to make my heart skip, "...let me keep winning at making you smile."
I looked at him for the longest time.
Then I reached across the table, stole the last piece of crispy corn from his plate, and popped it into my mouth with the most triumphant smile I could manage.
"I think," I declared around my victory, trying not to laugh, "we're both winning."
He laughed, shaking his head.
Maybe happiness wasn't always loud, maybe it wasn't grand declarations or extravagant gestures.
Maybe happiness looked exactly like this.
A random Tuesday afternoon, a postponed meeting, a lunch that lasted two hours and husband who looked at me as though I had always been his favourite place to be.
And somehow I had an inexplicable feeling that our date had only just begun.
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