His room is actually boring; there are no other words to describe it. The walls are cream-colored, with black furniture, back doors, and black couches, and at least the bedsheet is white. There is not an ounce of colour in this room.

Everything is black, just like his soul. Who wants dark curtains when you have a large balcony with plenty of natural light? There were no paintings on the walls, no decorations, nothing.

I am going to change it because I do not want to be any more depressed than I already am by being with him.

The only thing I like about this room is the balcony. I am sure the sunrises and sunsets will be spectacular from here. I was on the balcony when I felt like I was being watched. I turned and saw Rudra, but he was busy on his laptop.

My phone beeped with a message from an unknown number.

Unknown: You cannot get away from me because I am always watching you.

I looked around, but I did not see anyone. A new message popped up.

Unknown: look around as much as you want. You cannot see me, but I see you. And you look ravishing in red, baby.

My heart rate drops as I read the text. He is here, and he should not be here or anywhere near me. How is this possible?

Please, please, please.

I looked up at the clear sky, and my breathing had become more rapid. My throat felt dry, and my chest tightened as if I were choking. My eyes welled up with tears, and I tried to take deep breaths to regain control of my breathing.

When is this going to end?

------------------

I had no idea when I had fallen asleep until Athwa came to wake me up. Rudra is nowhere to be found. I went downstairs to the kitchen, where Maa was ordering maids about something.

She was overjoyed when I decided to call her Maa, and she burst into tears of joy. It is a wonderful feeling to have a mother figure back in my life.

She smiled when she saw me, and I returned her smile. Maa asked if I had seen Rudra, and I replied that I had not. I was told to prepare the dinner for my first kitchen ceremony.

I got to work with the help of maids.

"Hey bhabhi," Muktha teased, and I laughed in response.

"Do you need any help?" she asked, and everyone in the kitchen stopped what they were doing. I looked at them, puzzled, and then at Muktha, my brow furrowed.

"Han Han, okay. I know I cannot cook, but I was just trying to be polite," she said nervously, rubbing her neck. I giggled at her rosy cheeks.

"You can help me by telling me what everyone likes to eat," I said, and she smiled back at me cheerfully.

She informed me that they eat everything. Because it was my first kitchen ceremony, I was free to make whatever I wanted, but her brother is a picky eater, which made me roll my eyes.

She said he likes anything with chicken, which I kind of expected. Whenever he came to the cafe, he ordered the same thing. Then there is kheer, which is everyone's favourite sweet dish.

"Uhh, but Muktha, do you know where your brother is?" I tried to ask her casually.

"No, I think he left, but no one saw him. "He had a sore throat in the morning," she explained as she rolled peas in her palm. I let out a sigh and nodded.

A sore throat? That is why he had water, and I snitched on him.

But where has he gone? Nobody noticed him leave. Everyone appears to be normal as if they are used to his absence. He has been gone for quite some time now. It has been hours since I woke up, and he was gone before that.

What is wrong with me? Why am I thinking about him, and more importantly, why am I worried about him? Not my place.

"Chandini?" Muktha's voice pulled me out of my thoughts. I looked at her, and she was staring down. I felt embarrassed as soon as I looked down.

I have been stirring an empty pot the whole time, thinking about that moron. I cleared my throat, feeling heat creep up to my neck.

~

I was setting the table when the siblings came to help me. We settled to have dinner, but the space beside me was empty, and it was bothering me more than I wanted.

Everyone continued their meal and complimented me; Papa even gave me money as a token of his blessing. I thanked them and helped Athwa finish his meal.

They should have asked about him, right? Their son hasn't been home for the last few hours. They went to their rooms one by one, but I was still at the table, having not touched anything. Papa noticed.

"Beta call him. But I suggest you do not wait for him because you never know when he will return," Papa said as he patted my head and walked away.

Muktha tried calling him, but he did not answer. I crossed my legs on the chair and rested my arms on the table to support my head. If he frequently returns late, as Papa claimed, it means he eats alone.

Why do I feel bad for him?

I was tired and tried my hardest to stay awake, but I fell asleep.

-------------

I awoke with the unsettling feeling that I was being watched. I raised my head and felt the presence of another person beside me. Without thinking, I swing my fist in a combative manner, but it is caught mid-air by someone.

"Woah, relax, darling," he said, his tone gentle, and I relaxed. He cleared his throat and took my hand in his.

"Why are you sleeping here?"

He is losing his senses as he ages.

"Ohh, the chairs looked comfortable; I wanted to see if that was true or not; that is why," I said and shrugged my shoulders, and he quirked a brow. Moron!!

I stood up, picked up the container, and went into the kitchen to warm everything up for him; he trailed behind with the other container and handed it to me.

I smiled at him, and he simply nodded. We brought the warm food to the table, and I served him first, then myself, and we continued to eat in silence.

"Uh, you should not wait for me. Have your dinner, and then go to bed. Sometimes I come home late," he explained, clearing his throat once more.

"Then you should think about coming home soon," I suggested as I handed him a glass of water.

"Because I do not want you eating alone." I continued eating when he just stared.

Maybe I was hallucinating or something, but I saw his eyes moistening. He blinked and nodded, then looked down.

"Uhh... ahm..." I stuttered, unable to say what I was thinking.

"Just say it," he said as he sipped his drink.

"So, Rudra, where is my wedding gift?" I finally mustered the courage to ask him.

"What do you want, darling? You name it, and it is yours," he exclaimed immediately, anticipating my demand.

"Divorce." I said, looking into his tired and sad eyes, which immediately changed to alarmed.

"Never. Never ever speak of that word." With that, he exited the room, thanking me and placing his plate in the sink.

I do not know why I even bothered asking him. I sighed as I cleaned up and made turmeric tea for his sore throat. When I entered the room, I heard the water running in the bathroom and placed the tea on the nightstand.

I went into the closet and changed my clothes. I took the duvet and made myself comfortable on the couch with my book.

"What are you doing on the couch?"

I turned to face him, his hair wet from the shower and water dripping from the strands of his hair on his t-shirt, making him look irresistible. I averted my gaze before he caught me staring.

"I'm sleeping here, and there's tea for you; drink up. You will feel better in the morning," I said, my gaze fixed on the book.

"Thank you. And there is no need for you to sleep there. I do not bite unless you want me to." I whipped my head towards him with wide eyes and an open mouth. He had a smirk on his face.

"uhh... I..." I squirmed in my place as he approached me and lowered himself to my level. He took the book from me and gradually started nearing me, and I stopped breathing; his face was too close.

He extended his arm beside me, brushing against my arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps on my arm.

"Bed. Now." he rasped, his tone lowering. His warm breath hit my neck, and a hot shiver ran down my spine. My heart was racing, my cheeks and neck were hot, and my face was flushed because of his proximity.

"Breathe, darling, breathe." He tucks my hair behind my ear and gets to his feet, amusement in his light brown eyes.

I inhaled sharply, blinking, and looked beside me. He was putting the book aside while teasing me. I got up from the couch, glaring at him. His lips lifted slightly as if he were trying hard not to smile, and he smoothed my hair gently.

The moron chuckled as I slapped his chest and pushed him away. I took my duvet and moved to the right side of the bed, facing the balcony. I lay down on the bed, pulled the duvet over my head, and closed my eyes.

I felt the bed dip behind me. He lay on his side and switched off the light. He yanked the duvet harshly, and I yanked it back with equal force.

We did this back and forth, and we both sat up on the bed and started pulling it again, and we ended up with the duvet tearing up and the cotton flying everywhere. We both fell to the ground with a thud, half a piece of the duvet with him and the other half with me.

We both groaned out loud. He could have taken another duvet, but no!

"What the hell?" he exclaimed, almost shouting, as he stood with the half-piece of material in his hand.

"Kuch sikha nahi, ya bolna nahi ata? 'What the hell?' karte rehte ho! Chup ho jao!" I, too, mocked him by yelling at him. (Haven't you learned anything, or don't you know how to say anything other than that? Be quiet!!)

We walked to the centre of the room, still holding our ripped duvet, glaring at each other. We were engaged in a staring contest and did not notice the audience standing at the door.

"What happened in this room?"