That’s his version of approval.
“I heard about Ayush,” he says, his voice harsh, “I am glad Devraj bhai-sa was there, but he didn’t do anything, right?”
I smile at the protectiveness of my brother. I kind of miss him too much now. I would love to hug him and have him wrestle my hold, which he says he doesn’t like but still never pushes me away.
“He wouldn’t,” I scoff. “He knows you are my brother. One look from you and people want to run away from you.” I giggle.
“Very funny,” he huffs, and I know his lips are definitely twitching, I have no idea what he has against smiling. “You look… fine,” Veeraj bhai-sa says at last after a long pause, and for him that is practically a poem. “I saw the photos.”
My throat tightens a little. “You did?”
“Yes.”
Another pause. Then, gruffly, “Tell him—” he stops, exhales through his nose, clearly annoyed at himself, “—tell Dhruv to take care of you.”
I don’t need to look at Dhruv to know his smile has softened.
“He does,” I say quietly.
He doesn’t respond, “When are you coming home?” he asks.
A huge grin makes a way to my face, “Are you missing me, Bhai-sa?” I ask in a teasing tone.
“I knew I shouldn’t have asked,” he groans, and I laugh.
“Sitara,” he says after a beat of silence, “I do miss you… you are my little sister,” he whispers, and I feel a lump form in my throat just like that.
“I miss you too, Bhai-sa,” I smile softly, “and I love you.”
“Love you too,” he says abruptly and ends the call just like that. Veeraj bhai-sa isn’t good with his emotions, and it’s not a hidden fact but him calling me, admitting he misses me, saying I love you back… it feels like a win.
I stare at the phone for a moment, heart warm in that quiet, familiar way Veeraj Bhai-sa always leaves me feeling—protected without being smothered, loved without fuss.
When I look up, Yagini grins at me and I know she’s planning something. “Now that Kunwar Veeraj has done his emotional check-in for the month—” she turns toward Dhruv and me, eyes glittering, “—can we talk about therealissue?”
Dhruv leans back, folding his arms. “Whatever it is, don’t drag me in it.”
“You are actually very important for this,” she shoots back cheerfully. Then she looks at me. “You two never went on a honeymoon.”
The word lands between us like a dropped glass.
My cheeks heat instantly. I can feel it—how fast it happens, how obvious. I open my mouth, then close it again, because apparently my brain has short-circuited.
Dhruv, traitor that he is, smirks.
“A honeymoon?” Maa-sa echoes from where she’s been sipping her tea, watching us both far too knowingly. “Thatisoverdue.”
“Maa,” I protest weakly.
Yagini gasps theatrically. “Oh! Then wedefinitelyneed to go shopping.”
Dhruv coughs. Loudly.
“Shopping?” Maa-sa repeats, intrigued.
Yagini waves a dismissive hand, “On a second thought,” she smirks, “Sitara won’t really need anything, anyways. They’re going on ahoneymoon,after all.” She winks at me. and I almost die of embarrassment.
My eyes widen. “Yagini!”
