Chapter 45 The Calm Before Love
When Vihan enters the room of the haveli, he notices that it isn’t very big, yet it feels neat and sufficient. The furniture is crafted from old, polished wood, carrying the weight of time, while the walls reflect the rustic charm of an ancient home. A large window lets the cool village breeze flow inside, filling the room with a strange sense of peace something unfamiliar yet oddly calming for a man like Vihan, who is accustomed to the modern luxury of city villas.
He removes his coat, places it gently on the bed, and walks toward the window. Pulling the curtain slightly aside, he looks outside, and his eyes widen in surprise. In the garden below, a girl stands in a flowing white frock. Her earrings shimmer softly in the sunlight, and her long black hair cascades down her back, covering it completely. She looks angelic so delicate and graceful that for a moment, Vihan forgets everything else.
Her face is turned away, yet something about her instantly pulls him in the innocence in her movements, the quiet joy in her presence. His heart begins to beat faster, an unfamiliar curiosity stirring within him. Who is she? he wonders breathlessly. I want to see her face.
As if the universe hears his silent wish, the girl suddenly turns around. Vihan freezes. Time seems to stop.
Her large, jet-black, soulful eyes meet his from a distance. Her skin is fair like milk, her delicate face framed perfectly by her long hair, and her soft pink lips curve into an innocent smile. She doesn’t feel real. She feels like a doll no, like a fairy who has somehow wandered into this world. She holds a pigeon gently in her hands, smiling with childlike happiness.
Without hesitation, she lifts the bird and releases it into the sky. The pigeon spreads its wings and flies away, while Vihan remains rooted to the spot, completely lost in the moment. He keeps watching her silently, unmoving, until she finally walks away and disappears from view. Only then does he take a deep breath, his heartbeat echoing loudly in his ears. “What just happened to me?” he murmurs under his breath.
Still caught in the trance of that ethereal encounter, he runs a hand over his face and whispers, “I need to freshen up,” before turning toward the bathroom.
By the time he finishes showering, the gentle morning light has turned warm, hinting at noon. Dressed in a simple white T-shirt and track pants, Vihan steps out of his room looking fresh, though a subtle restlessness lingers on his face.
As he walks through the grand yet rustic corridors of the haveli, he reaches the dining area where Chaudhary Sahab already sits at the head of a long wooden table. Seeing him, Chaudhary Sahab stands with a warm smile. “Come, Vihan Babu. Please sit. I’ve been waiting for you.”
Vihan nods politely and takes his seat. The table is laid with traditional dishes steaming rotis, aromatic dal, spicy vegetables, fragrant rice filling the room with the comforting aroma of home-cooked food.
Soft footsteps approach from the kitchen, and instinctively, Vihan looks up. His breath catches.
It’s her.
The same girl from the garden, now walking toward the table with a dish in her hands. Her expression is calm, her presence gentle, her movements graceful. Vihan’s heart skips a beat as she places the dish down and begins serving, her bangles clinking softly.
Chaudhary Sahab smiles. “Vihan Babu, meet my daughter Rimjhim.”
A flicker of nervousness passes through Vihan. Rimjhim folds her hands politely. “Hello.”
He nods, momentarily speechless, struggling to look away. As he eats, he realizes how delicious the food is rich, comforting.
Later, Chaudhary Sahab asks Rimjhim to show him around the haveli. She guides Vihan through the ancestral halls, the portraits, the artifacts, sharing quiet stories. They walk mostly in silence, yet it feels peaceful, natural.
In the garden, Vihan sits and checks his phone. Rimjhim turns to leave but pauses. “Would you like some tea?” she asks softly.
“No I don't Like.” he replies.
“Coffee?” she asks. He nods.
She soon returns with a cup and places it before him.
“Coffee,” she says softly before walking away unaware that, in that quiet moment, she has already become the center of a decision that will change Vihan’s life forever.
It is a cold night in Scotland, the kind that wraps everything in a deep, serene silence. The sky is dark and scattered with countless stars, and the chilly wind brushes against my skin like a soft whisper. Samar seems completely unaffected by the cold. He has already changed into casual clothes a crisp white shirt and pants as if winters like these mean nothing to him.
I, on the other hand, am not built for this weather. I wear a sky-blue suit with trousers, and over it, a soft white warm jacket hugs me tightly, trying to shield me from the biting chill. My hands are tucked inside gloves, yet I still shiver slightly.
Samar holds my hand as we walk outside. I glance at him and ask softly, my teeth almost chattering, “Aren’t you feeling cold?”
He smiles calmly. “No, I’m used to it.”
I mutter under my breath with playful annoyance, “Huhhh… his mind is always so hot anyway, why would he feel cold?”
He chuckles without even turning around. “Wifey, I can hear everything.”
Startled, I laugh nervously. “I was just joking!”
Soon, we reach the jet. It stands there majestically, waiting to take us away. Samar opens the door for me and helps me inside carefully. I am still shivering a little, but my eyes sparkle with excitement and wonder.
He closes the door and steps out briefly, giving instructions to his bodyguards in a sharp, commanding tone. I sit inside, watching him through the glass, a soft smile forming on my lips without my permission.
Moments later, he returns, and the jet takes off, soaring into the dark sky. Samar activates the partition, and a sleek panel rises, separating us completely from the cockpit giving us privacy.
Before I can say anything, he pulls me closer and gently lifts me onto his lap. I don’t resist. Instead, I stare out of the window, mesmerized by the twinkling lights below. “This view is so beautiful…” I whisper.
He looks at me and says softly, “Not as beautiful as you.”
I turn toward him, and the moment our eyes meet, my heart starts racing. There is something in his gaze deep, that makes my breath hitch.
He brushes a strand of hair behind my ear and asks gently, “Can I kiss you?”