IN BETWEEN THE LINES !!
|| 3 Years 6 Months Ago ||
|| Udaipur ||
A week later, the court premises were bustling with activity. The echo of hurried footsteps, murmured conversations, and the sharp clang of file binders created a symphony that only those familiar with the legal world could appreciate. Advocates in their black robes darted about, clerks carried heavy stacks of documents, and clients sat nervously on the wooden benches lining the hallways.
At one end of the corridor, Sanjay Bansal stood beside his client, Ashok Kumar. His sharp, angular features were twisted into an expression of smugness, his piercing gaze scanning the crowd until it landed on Abhira across the way. A sly, almost sinister smile crept onto his face as he whispered something to Ashok, who nodded in agreement.
At the other end of the corridor, Abhira stood with Manish Goenka. Her composed demeanor, accentuated by her neatly tied hair and the impeccable crispness of her white shirt beneath the black gown, reflected her growing reputation as a lawyer of substance. While Sanjay's aura was dark and unsettling, Abhira's presence exuded quiet strength.
As the bailiff announced the hearing, the crowd parted to let them pass. Both sides walked toward the courtroom, their paths converging briefly as they stepped inside.
The courtroom was a blend of aged woodwork and stark legal precision. Rows of benches for observers flanked either side, and the judge's imposing seat, raised slightly above the rest, commanded attention. The air was thick with anticipation as everyone settled into their places.
Sanjay took his seat on the prosecution side, flashing a mockingly polite smile in Abhira's direction. She ignored him, instead offering a reassuring glance to Manish before taking her place.
The clerk called the case, and the judge, a sharp-eyed woman in her fifties, entered the room. The judge took her seat, her sharp eyes scanning the room as the courtroom settled into an expectant silence. The case was called, and both parties rose to their feet.
"This court is now in session," the judge declared, her voice firm.
Sanjay Bansal stood first, exuding confidence as he began his argument.
"Your Honor, this case is as straightforward as it gets. My client, Mr. Ashok Kumar, leased the property in question to Mr. Manish Goenka under clear terms. The agreement stipulated that timely monthly payments must be made without exception. Yet, Mr. Goenka has defaulted on these payments and continues to occupy the premises despite my client's lawful demand to vacate. This is a blatant breach of contract and disrespect to the legal process itself."
He paused dramatically, turning slightly to address the gallery, his voice tinged with mock indignation. "Your Honor, the law is clear-when an agreement is broken, the consequences must follow. My client has every right to reclaim what is legally his."
Abhira, seated calmly, stood next. Her posture was confident, and her voice steady as she addressed the judge.
"Your Honor, the prosecution's argument hinges on selective facts. While Mr. Ashok Kumar may have a legal agreement in his favor, the circumstances under which this dispute arose paint a very different picture. My client, Mr. Manish Goenka, entered this agreement in good faith, honoring the payments month after month without fail. It was only due to a one-time clerical error by the bank that a single payment was delayed by two days."
She walked toward the bench, holding up a file of documents. "Here are the bank statements proving that payments have been consistently made. You'll also find proof that the delayed payment was processed immediately upon discovery of the error and communicated to Mr. Kumar. Despite this, Mr. Kumar refused to accept the payment and began pressuring my client to vacate the property, a clear violation of the lease terms."
The judge reviewed the documents briefly, nodding as she read through the correspondence. "Proceed, Ms. Sharma."
Abhira continued, her voice firm. "Your Honor, this case is not about a breach of contract but about my client being subjected to an unfair and opportunistic demand. The lease agreement clearly states that any default must be addressed with prior written notice. No such notice was given to my client. Instead, Mr. Kumar immediately resorted to coercion, leveraging this minor incident to claim ownership of a property that holds immense sentimental and familial value to Mr. Goenka."
Sanjay interrupted, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Your Honor, while Ms. Sharma's speech is compelling, the fact remains that a delay occurred. The terms of the lease are non-negotiable. My client is merely exercising his legal rights."
Abhira turned to face him, her expression calm but sharp. "Legal rights, Mr. Bansal, must be exercised within the framework of the law. Ignoring procedural requirements like serving notice not only invalidates your argument but also highlights bad faith on your client's part."
The judge interjected, her tone neutral but firm. "Ms. Sharma raises a valid point. Mr. Kumar, why was no written notice served before taking action?"
Sanjay hesitated, his confidence faltering momentarily. "Your Honor, my client believed verbal communication sufficed given the urgency of the situation."
Abhira seized the opportunity. "Verbal communication, Your Honor, is not legally binding in this context. The lease agreement explicitly demands written notice. Mr. Kumar's failure to adhere to this requirement renders his actions not only invalid but also a clear overreach."
The judge leaned back in her chair, her gaze shifting between the two lawyers. "Mr. Bansal, your client's failure to serve notice weakens your case significantly. Do you have anything further to add?"
Sanjay's jaw tightened as he scrambled to regain footing. "Your Honor, while there may have been an oversight regarding notice, the fact remains that the payment was delayed. This cannot be ignored."
Abhira stepped forward, her voice unwavering. "Your Honor, the defense does not deny the delay. However, it was rectified immediately, and the delay caused no harm or loss to Mr. Kumar. If anything, his refusal to accept subsequent payments demonstrates that his intentions are not about recovering his dues but about exploiting a technicality to oust my client."
She turned to the gallery, her tone growing more impassioned. "The law exists to protect justice, not to enable opportunism. My client has fulfilled his obligations in both letter and spirit. To strip him of his home based on a technical oversight would set a dangerous precedent."
The judge nodded, her expression thoughtful. "Ms. Sharma, your argument is compelling. The court will require additional evidence and documentation to examine the validity of both claims. Until then, the defendant will retain possession of the property, and Mr. Kumar is barred from initiating any further action without court approval."
The gavel struck, and the session was adjourned.
As the parties exited, there was a distinct shift in the atmosphere. Abhira's composed demeanor remained intact as she exchanged a few quiet words with Manish. Across the corridor, Sanjay shot her a glare, his smugness replaced with frustration.
Manish turned to her, his voice filled with gratitude. "Thank you, Abhira beta. Aaj tume sach me sabit kardiya ki tu aapni mumma ki strong beti hai. She will be so proud and so am I."
Abhira offered a reassuring smile. "This is just the beginning, Mr. Goenka. We'll ensure the truth prevails."
"You handled that well," he said, his gratitude evident in his tone.
Abhira offered a small smile. "It's just the beginning. This case has layers, Mr. Goenka, and we need to be prepared for every twist."
Sanjay passed by with Ashok, his smirk still intact. "Good luck for that Abhira," he said mockingly. "You'll need it."
Abhira didn't flinch, her voice steady as she replied, "Luck favors those who prepare, Mr. Bansal."
The battle had just begun, and Abhira was ready to fight it with all she had.
_________
Ashok Kumar paced back and forth in the small private chamber adjacent to the courtroom, his face red with frustration. Sanjay Bansal sat on a chair, pretending to read through his notes, though his clenched jaw and restless fingers betrayed his irritation.
Ashok finally stopped and slammed his hand on the table, startling Sanjay. "What the hell was that, Bansal? I thought you said this case was a slam dunk! And yet, that little Sharma girl tore through your argument like it was a piece of tissue paper!"
Sanjay looked up, feigning calm but visibly seething inside. "Mr. Kumar, the situation was... unexpected. She came prepared, and-"
"Prepared?" Ashok interrupted, his voice rising. "She demolished you! Where was all the fire you promised me? Where was the strategy? You didn't even counter her properly when she brought up that ridiculous notice argument!"
Sanjay stood, straightening his tie as his composure slipped. "With all due respect, Mr. Kumar, I wasn't expecting her to have such detailed records. Clearly, she's been digging into every possible angle. It's not as simple as it looked on paper."
"Not simple?" Ashok sneered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "She's half your age and walked circles around you, Bansal. I didn't hire you to give excuses. I hired you to win. You made me look like a fool in there!"
Sanjay's eyes narrowed, his frustration boiling over. "You think I don't know that? Do you have any idea how difficult it is to counter someone as sharp as Abhira Sharma? She's not just some rookie lawyer; she's Armaan Poddar's wife and moreover the best emerging lawyer in the field. She knew exactly how to corner us, and she played the emotional angle perfectly!"
Ashok crossed his arms, his glare unwavering. "So what now? Are you just going to let her walk all over us in the next hearing too? I'm not paying you to admire her skills. I'm paying you to win this case!"
Sanjay took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. "Mr. Kumar, this was just the first hearing. Don't forget, the court hasn't ruled in her favor yet. The judge has only asked for more evidence. I have a strategy for the next session. We'll focus on the payment delay, the breach of terms, and any inconsistencies in Goenka's records. Trust me, this isn't over."
Ashok's gaze hardened. "It better not be. Because if you can't handle her, I'll find someone who can. And believe me, I won't be as forgiving as the judge was today."
Sanjay stiffened but didn't respond. He hated being spoken to like that, especially by someone who barely understood the intricacies of legal battles. But he knew better than to argue.
Ashok grabbed his briefcase and stormed out, leaving Sanjay standing alone, his pride wounded and his mind racing. As he moved out he saw Abhira near the exit waiting for perhaps an auto.
"Abhira Sharma," he muttered under his breath. "You've made this personal now. And i love when things get personal in profession."
_________
Armaan and Dev's law firm of had grown significantly in the past month. Nestled in a modern office building, the firm was already making a name for itself, not just for its founders' reputations but also for the innovative energy they brought to their work.
Armaan had successfully lured back several of his old clients who had grown dissatisfied with the rigid and outdated practices of Poddar & Poddar. Meanwhile, Dev, with his natural charisma and sharp legal acumen, had onboarded a range of new clients from diverse sectors. Together, they had built a strong foundation for the firm.
The team had also expanded to include a group of energetic junior lawyers, fresh from prestigious law schools. Their enthusiasm and hunger to prove themselves added vibrancy to the firm. The open-floor workspace buzzed with discussions, debates, and the sound of clicking keyboards, while the occasional laugh reminded everyone of the camaraderie they shared.
Abhira walked into the office in her usual composed demeanor, her formal attire reflecting her sharp personality. Her eyes scanned the bustling workspace before she spotted Dev standing in the corridor, leaning casually against the wall as he reviewed a document.
"Good Evening, Dev Sir," she greeted with a warm smile.
Dev looked up, grinning broadly. "Good morning, Abhira! What brings the star to our humble abode today?"
Abhira rolled her eyes playfully. "You and your buttering, Dev Sir. I'm just here to see Armaan."
Dev's grin widened, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Ah, I see. The missus is looking for her better half. Should I be jealous?"
"Very funny," Abhira said, crossing her arms. "So, where is he?"
Dev pointed towards the exit. "Your dear husband is out charming a client over lunch. He should be back in a couple of hours."
Abhira's brows furrowed slightly, and Dev immediately noticed the subtle shift in her expression. His teasing tone softened. "What's up, Abhira? You seem... off."
She hesitated for a moment, then sighed. "Dev Sir, I actually need your help with something. Can we talk in your cabin?"
"Alright, Would u want some coffee ?" Dev asked to which Abhira nodded and followed Dev to his cabin.
Dev closed the door to his cabin and gestured for Abhira to take a seat. The cabin was sleek and minimalistic, with a large desk, leather chairs, and a whiteboard filled with legal notes. He took his seat across from her, his usual playful demeanor replaced with genuine concern.
"Alright, Abhira. Spill it. What's troubling you?"
Abhira leaned forward, clasping her hands together. "It's about the case I'm handling for Parna.. Mr. Manish Goenka."
Dev raised a brow. "The property dispute case, right? I heard Sanjay Bansal is on the other side. That man is trouble." Dev's expression hardened as he spoke.
"Exactly," Abhira said, her voice tense. "The case is more complicated than I initially thought. Fufa Sa has been using every trick in the book to corner us. Today, they presented a set of documents that claim Manish defaulted on payments for three months-something I know is fabricated. But proving it is another story."
Dev nodded, his mind already racing through possibilities. "What's the status of your evidence? Do you have bank statements or receipts?"
"I have some, but they're incomplete," Abhira admitted. "Mr. Goenka's records are a mess. He was paying in cash for a while, and some transactions weren't properly documented. I need to find a way to discredit their claim without leaving room for doubt."
Dev leaned back in his chair, tapping his pen against his chin. "We could argue on the intent behind the lease agreement. If Manish was paying consistently, even if not documented perfectly, it shows his willingness to honor the deal. Plus, we can challenge the authenticity of their documents. Have you thought about hiring a forensic expert?"
"I was thinking about it, but I wanted to get your opinion first," Abhira said.
Dev smiled reassuringly. "You've come to the right place. I know a forensic document examiner who's excellent at catching inconsistencies. We'll get them to analyze those documents for any signs of forgery."
Abhira's shoulders relaxed slightly. "That would be great. Thank you, Dev Sir."
Dev leaned forward, his tone serious. "But Abhira, you need to be careful. Sanjay is notorious for his underhanded tactics. He won't hesitate to dig into your personal life or Manish's if he thinks it'll help him win."
"I know," Abhira said firmly. "But I'm not backing down. Parnanu deserves justice, and I'm not going to let someone like Sanjay intimidate me."
Dev smiled, admiration evident in his eyes. "That's the Abhira I know-fearless and determined. Don't worry, we'll handle this together. I'll connect you with the forensic expert and help you strategize for the next hearing."
"Thank you, Dev Sir." Abhira said sincerely.
Dev waved her off. "Anytime, Abhira. After all, if Armaan finds out I didn't help you, he'll have my head."
Abhira laughed, the tension easing slightly. As they left the cabin, she felt a renewed sense of determination, knowing she had another ally in her corner. As she walked back through the bustling corridor, she spotted a familiar silhouette through the frosted glass of Armaan's cabin door. Her heart skipped a beat.
Armaan was back.
Without a moment's hesitation, she quickened her steps and knocked lightly before pushing the door open. Inside, Armaan was standing by his desk, his jacket draped over the back of his chair, his tie loosened, and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He looked up from the file in his hand and smiled as soon as he saw her.
"Hey Biwi," he greeted warmly, closing the file and setting it aside. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"
Abhira shut the door behind her, leaning against it for a moment as she took him in. "I heard you were back," she said softly, walking toward him. "How was the meeting?"
"Productive," he replied, his eyes never leaving hers. "But I think my day just got a lot better."
She rolled her eyes at his flirtation but couldn't suppress the smile that tugged at her lips. As she reached him, he pulled her gently into his arms, his hands settling on her waist.
"You've been busy, haven't you?" he murmured, tilting his head slightly to study her face. "You look a little tired."
Abhira rested her hands on his chest, tracing lazy patterns on his shirt. "It's nothing I can't handle," she replied. But the moment she said it, she felt the weight of her own words.
Armaan noticed the flicker of weariness in her eyes and pulled her closer. "You're doing too much," he said softly, his voice tinged with concern. "You need to let me take care of you sometimes."
She sighed, leaning her head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "Just being here with you is enough."
Armaan chuckled, the sound a low rumble in his chest. "Flattery will get you everywhere, Wifey"
Abhira looked up at him with a teasing smile. "Oh, I know."
He dipped his head closer to hers, their foreheads touching as his hands moved to cup her face. "Do you?" he murmured, his voice dropping to a whisper.
Before she could respond, his lips claimed hers in a soft, lingering kiss that made her toes curl. The world outside the cabin seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them wrapped in their own little bubble.
When they finally pulled apart, Abhira's cheeks were flushed, and her fingers gripped his shirt for balance. "Armaan," she whispered, her voice shaky, "we're in your office."
His lips quirked into a mischievous smile. "And the door's locked," he reminded her, pressing another quick kiss to her lips.
Abhira laughed softly, her hands moving to straighten his tie. "You're impossible," she muttered.
"But you love me for it," he countered, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face.
She nodded, her smile softening. "I do. More than you'll ever know."
They stood there for a moment, wrapped in each other's arms, the quiet hum of the office outside a distant backdrop to their intimacy. It wasn't just a stolen moment-it was a sanctuary.
Eventually, Armaan pulled back slightly, his fingers trailing down her arms. "Alright, Abhira. Tell me, what brought you to my office?"
Abhira smirked. "I might have just missed you."
His eyes sparkled with amusement. "I'll accept that. But seriously, everything okay?"
She nodded. "Dev's helping me with a strategy for the Manish Goenka case. I just needed to see you after that."
He tightened his arms around her once more. "You're amazing, you know that? And I'll always be here whenever you need me."
Her heart swelled at his words, and she pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. "Thank you, Armaan."
"For you? Always."
Armaan glanced at Abhira, still wrapped in his arms, and gently brushed his fingers along her cheek. "Do you have any more work to finish?" he asked, his voice soft and warm.
She shook her head, a tired but content smile gracing her lips. "Nope, I'm done for the day. Why?"
Armaan kissed her forehead. "I've got some prep work to wrap up for tomorrow. It won't take long. If you don't mind waiting, we can head home together after I'm done."
Abhira nodded eagerly. "That sounds perfect." She walked over to the couch in his cabin and unceremoniously plopped herself down, tossing her bag onto the coffee table. "I'll wait right here, Husband. Just don't take too long," she teased, stretching her legs and leaning back with a relaxed sigh.
Armaan chuckled, shaking his head as he moved to his desk. "I'll try my best, but no promises."
As he settled into his work, he occasionally stole glances at her. A few minutes later, he noticed the room had grown quiet-no teasing remarks, no sarcastic quips. Looking up, his gaze softened as he saw Abhira.
She had fallen asleep on the couch. Her head rested against the armrest, her feet tucked up, and her features were peaceful, framed by the soft curls that had escaped her bun. Her bag lay forgotten on the table, and her hand loosely clutched the edge of a cushion.
Armaan's heart swelled. He knew how hard she had worked, especially on the Manish Goenka case. Every ounce of her dedication had been poured into the hearing, and it was evident she was utterly exhausted.
Quietly, he rose from his chair and walked over to her. Bending down, he gently adjusted her position, lifting her legs and placing them comfortably on the couch. He grabbed his jacket from the chair and draped it over her, tucking it in around her shoulders to keep her warm.
"You never stop pushing yourself, do you?" he murmured softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. His fingers lingered for a moment, tracing her cheek with the utmost care.
Armaan stepped back, watching her sleep for a moment longer before moving to pull shades on for one side of window in the cabin, creating a cozy ambiance. He returned to his desk but kept an eye on her as he worked, his lips quirking into a fond smile every time she shifted slightly in her sleep.
"Rest well, my love," he whispered, knowing she deserved this moment of peace. He vowed to finish his work quickly so he could take her home, where she could rest properly in the comfort of their bed.
_________
The Poddar Mansion's study room was dimly lit, its rich mahogany shelves lined with leather-bound books and family heirlooms. The air was heavy, carrying the weight of countless secrets whispered within its walls. Manisha entered, leading a sharply dressed man with a leather briefcase in hand. His sharp features and observant eyes suggested he was a professional, one who had spent years in the art of uncovering hidden truths.
He stood silently as Manisha gestured for him to sit, though he chose to remain standing. A moment later, Kaveri Poddar strode in, her aura commanding. Dressed in an elegant silk saree, she carried herself with a smug smile, her eyes narrowing as they landed on the man.
"Kya information laaye ho?" she asked, wasting no time on pleasantries as she took a seat behind the grand oak desk.
The man placed his briefcase on the desk, opened it with a click, and pulled out a file. "Mrs. Poddar," he began, "Abhira Sharma ke baare mein jitna mujhe pata chala hai, wo sab yahan hai."
He slid the file across the desk. "Abhira Sharma was born in Mussoorie. Her father died before she was born. She was raised by her mother, Akshara Sharma, a lawyer and a resort manager by profession. A respectable woman, resourceful and independent."
Kaveri raised her hand, cutting him off. "Yeh sab toh hum bhi jaante hain. Naya kya pata hai uske baare mein? Kuch kaam ka ho, toh bolo."
The man's expression didn't falter as he took a step forward, lowering his voice. "Madam, Akshara Sharma ek samajhdar aur chalak aurat thi. Usne apne aas-paas ke records aur family connections kaafi safai se chhupaaye hain. Lekin kuch purane traces mile hain jo unki family ke bare main hai but zada kuch mila nahi."
Kaveri leaned forward, her eyes narrowing. "Family connections? Toh tum kehna kya chahte ho?"
The detective straightened up. "Woh ek family ka hissa thi jo kabhi influential thi. Ek family jo aab kahan hai kissi ko nahi pata.."
Kaveri's expression hardened, her lips pursing in frustration. "Tumhara kaam kya hai, yeh mujhe samjhana? Direct baat karo. Akshara Sharma ka past mere liye kyun important hona chahiye?"
The man opened another file from his briefcase, this one containing faded photographs and old newspaper clippings. "Yeh dekhiye. Akshara ka connection ek reputed family ke saath tha jo ab tak chhupa hua hai. Uska ek maternal side hai jo kaafi significant tha, par ab woh sab log alag ho gaye hain ya kahin aur chale gaye hain."
Kaveri's fingers tightened on the armrest of her chair, her voice dropping to a dangerous tone. "Toh tumhara kehna yeh hai ki woh Abhira Sharma ka asli asal jaan sakti hai?"
"Bilkul," the man replied, holding her gaze steadily. "Agar hum aur dig karein toh shayad aapko kuch aise details milenge jo iss family ke liye faayda uthaane ke kaam aa sakte hain. Abhira Sharma sirf ek simple background wali ladki nahi hai, Mrs. Poddar."
Kaveri stood abruptly, pacing to the large window overlooking the garden. Her mind raced, anger simmering just beneath her composed surface. "Mujhe proof chahiye," she snapped, turning back to him. "Kuch bhi bina proof ke nahi hoga. Agar uska past meri family ke aage khatra ban sakta hai, toh mujhe uska har ek connection pata hona chahiye."
The man nodded, picking up the files and packing them back into his briefcase. "Main aur research karunga. Aur kuch weeks ke andar aapko aur details milengi."
Kaveri's lips curled into a cold smile. "Ensure there are no loose ends. Abhira Sharma ko main lightly lene ki galti nahi karungi. Tumhe jitna paisa chahiye, milega. Par mujhe perfect results chahiye."
The man gave a curt nod. "Understood, Mrs. Poddar."
As he turned to leave, Kaveri called out, her voice sharp and unwavering. "Aur yaad rakhna, agar tumhare kaam mein zara si bhi kami hui, toh yeh tumhara aakhri kaam hoga."
The man paused, glancing over his shoulder with a faint smirk. "Aap mujh par bharosa kar sakti hain. Akshara Sharma ka har ek raaz ab mujhe khud bulayega."
With that, he exited the study, leaving Kaveri standing in the silence, her mind whirring with thoughts and plans. Whatever secrets lay hidden in Akshara Sharma's past, Kaveri was determined to uncover them, no matter the cost.
________
The kitchen was a cozy mix of warmth and laughter, the faint sound of sizzling chapatis filling the air. Abhira sat perched on the kitchen slab, her legs swinging idly as she balanced a plate on her lap. Next to her, Armaan stood at the counter, focused on rolling dough. His creations were a far cry from perfectly round chapatis-each one looked like a map of a different continent.
"Armaan," Abhira teased, inspecting the latest chapati he placed on the tawa. "Are we touring the world tonight? Because this one looks suspiciously like Africa."
Armaan glanced up, a mock-offended expression on his face. "Excuse me, Mrs. Sharma, this is art. Modern culinary cartography. Not everyone can make chapatis that double as geography lessons."
Abhira burst into laughter, shaking her head as she tore off a piece of the chapati he'd just flipped into her plate. "Art, huh?" She dipped the piece into the bowl of steaming dal, holding it up to his mouth. "Here, Picasso. Taste your masterpiece while you roll another one."
Armaan chuckled, leaning in to take the bite she offered. "Mmm, not bad. I think Africa tastes better than Europe. What do you think?"
Abhira rolled her eyes dramatically, tearing off another bite for herself. "I think you're just buttering me up so I won't criticize your next chapati. Let me guess-it'll look like Antarctica?"
He smirked, expertly flipping another oddly shaped chapati onto the tawa. "No, Antarctica is too simple. I'm aiming for Australia this time."
Abhira clapped her hands in mock delight. "Oh, I can't wait. Should I start judging your chapatis like a cooking competition? Ten points for creativity, zero for symmetry."
As Armaan worked on his latest creation, Abhira alternated between feeding herself and offering him bites. He grinned every time she nudged the next piece toward him, his hands busy rolling dough and flipping chapatis.
"This was a genius idea, Abhira," Armaan said between bites, gesturing toward the stove with a flour-dusted hand. "You sit there looking cute, and I do all the hard work."
"Excuse me!" Abhira protested, her mouth full. She quickly swallowed and added, "I'm the one feeding you and taste-testing your 'art.' That's hard work too!"
He chuckled, reaching out to poke her cheek. "Fine, fine. You're indispensable, Ms. Sharma."
Abhira grinned, leaning down to grab the freshly flipped chapati from the tawa. "And don't you forget it, Mr. Poddar. Now hurry up! The faster we finish, the sooner we can sleep."
"Yes, ma'am," Armaan replied with a mock salute, rolling another dough ball.
Their banter continued, the kitchen filled with warmth not just from the stove but from the lighthearted moments they shared. By the end of their impromptu cooking session, they had a pile of uniquely shaped chapatis, empty plates, and smiles that lingered well into the night.
The soft glow of the bedside lamp bathed the room in a warm hue as Armaan and Abhira made their way to bed. Abhira, with a mischievous pout, clutched his arm tightly.
"Armaan," she whined playfully, her voice muffled as she leaned against his shoulder. "Ur wifey demands some extra care tonight."
Armaan chuckled, ruffling her hair gently. "You always demand extra care, Abhira. But what's this sudden clinginess about, hmm?"
"It's not sudden!" she protested, dragging him to the bed and plopping down dramatically. "I just feel like being babied a little more tonight. Is that so wrong?"
He raised a brow, a teasing smile playing on his lips. "Not at all, but I feel like there's more to this."
She didn't reply immediately, choosing instead to stretch out her arms and tug him down next to her. Once he lay flat on his back, she clambered onto him, nestling her head into the crook of his neck and wrapping herself around him like a vine. Her arms circled his torso as she sighed contentedly, her breath warm against his skin.
"Comfortable now, Your Highness?" he teased, stroking her back gently.
"Mm-hmm," she hummed, nuzzling closer. "Don't move. This is perfect."
Armaan's hands continued their soothing rhythm along her spine, but his gaze grew serious as he asked, "Abhira, are you okay? Is something bothering you?"
Her fingers played idly with the buttons of his shirt as she shrugged. "Nothing's wrong. I'm just feeling extra fatigued. I guess it's because I'm nearing my dates."
Understanding softened his expression. "Ah, that explains it." He tightened his hold, one hand stroking her hair while the other rested securely on her lower back. "You know, you don't have to wait until you're feeling worn out to ask for this. I'm always here to spoil you."
Abhira smiled against his neck, her lips brushing his skin lightly. "I know, but tonight just feels different. Like I need this... need you, more than ever."
He tilted his head to kiss the top of hers. "Well, you've got me. Always."
A peaceful silence settled between them, the rhythmic sound of their breathing filling the room. Armaan's fingers moved to trace lazy patterns on her back, while Abhira's small hand rested over his heart, feeling its steady beat.
"I love this," she murmured after a while.
"What's that?" he asked softly.
"Being here, like this. With you," she replied, tilting her face up to look at him. Her eyes glimmered with emotion, her lips curling into a soft smile. "You're my favorite place, Armaan."
His heart swelled at her words. Leaning down, he placed a gentle kiss on her head, pouring all his love into that single moment. He rested his chin against hers head, whispering, "And you, Abhira, are my everything."
With her head tucked back under his chin, they lay there in shared bliss, wrapped in each other's warmth. The world outside faded, leaving only the serenity of their love to guide them into a peaceful slumber.
*..*..*..*..*..*
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