He was still scanning the space, listening for the faint sounds of utensils or movement, when Maria cleared her throat gently.
“Sir,” she asked, “shall I serve dinner now?”
Karan nodded, distracted. “Ask Mishti to serve it.”
The words came easily.Possessively.
Maria hesitated for a second
“Sir,” she said again, lowering her voice, “Ma’am is not at home.”
Karan turned sharply toward her. “What do you mean she is not at home?”
The irritation that had been simmering since morning flared instantly.
“She did come home, sir,” Maria explained quickly, sensing the shift in his mood. “She cooked dinner alone, exactly as you asked. Everything. Your favourites. Rajma Chawal and Moong Dal Halwa.”
“And then?” he demanded.
“She finished early,” Maria continued. “After that, Abhimanyu Sir and Ma’am left with Rajat Sir, who had come to pick them up. They left together for dinner.”
Karan’s fingers curled at his sides as he reached instinctively for his phone. One call and he could have her back within minutes. He could remind her exactly that he had asked her to stay home.
But he stopped.
Something held him back. Pride, perhaps. Or the sudden, uncomfortable realisation that she had followed his order to the letter and still managed to walk away on her own terms.
She cooked.
She left.
Without another word, Karan turned and strode toward the staircase.
“Sir,” Maria called after him, unsure, “should I serve the food?”
He paused halfway up the stairs and, without looking back at her, he replied. “I am not hungry anymore.”
His voice echoed through the quiet house as he continued up, not sparing another glance for the dining table that had been laid with care, nor for the meal that waited untouched.
Maria stood there looking at him with sympathy before she gathered herself and returned to the kitchen to clear away the dishes that had been prepared with such intent.
***************
Hotel Restaurant
The restaurant glowed with quiet luxury, all muted lights and polished wood. Rajat and Abhimanyu had already ordered a full course. Mishti sat opposite them, smiling as she talked to them, yet her attention was nowhere near the table.
For the third time in ten minutes, she glanced at her phone.
No message.
No call.
Her thumb hovered over the screen, temptation tugging at her, but she stopped herself. If Karan wanted to reach out, he would. He always did things on his own terms. Still, her thoughts had already travelled back to Wadhwa Mansion. She pictured the quiet house, the kitchen where she had cooked alone, every dish prepared with so much care. She wondered if he had reached home yet, if Maria had served him the food, if he had even bothered to taste it.
Or had his anger ruined his appetite? What would his reaction be when he realises that she had obeyed him and still left? Would he eat or would his pride refuse even that smallcomfort? Or would he come here? Because the invitation was passed to him too.
Across the table, Rajat noticed the crease on her forehead and exchanged a knowing glance with Abhimanyu. With a soft sigh, he leaned back in his chair and spoke gently, “Relax, Mishti. I know you are worried, but Karan is not a child you have left behind with a nanny. He will manage.”
