The golden rays of the morning sun streamed into the balcony, casting a soft glow on Ranbir as he leaned on the railing, enjoying the cool breeze. Dressed in a casual white kurta and light pajama, he looked lost in thought, the quiet of the morning calming his usually restless mind.

Just then, he heard the faint shuffle of feet behind him and turned instinctively. His breath hitched.

Prachi emerged from the room, her hair damp and cascading down her back, glistening in the sunlight like strands of silk. She was wearing a pale pink churidar kameez with delicate golden embroidery along the neckline and cuffs. Her dupatta was casually draped over one shoulder, and she held a small towel in her hand, using it to gently dry her hair as she walked.

For a moment, Ranbir couldn't move. Her simplicity and grace made her look ethereal, like something out of a dream.

She hadn't noticed him yet and paused near the balcony door, adjusting her dupatta with her free hand. 

That's when Ranbir's sharp eyes caught it—the tie at the back of her churidar was undone, the ends hanging loose. His heart raced at the sight, but his upbringing and respect for her stopped him from moving closer.

Clearing his throat softly, he tried to alert her. "Prachi..." his voice was hesitant.

She turned towards him, startled, her towel pausing mid-motion as she looked at him. "Ji, Ranbir ji? Kuch chahiye?(Yes, Ranbir ji? Do you need something?)"

Ranbir gestured awkwardly towards her back, his gaze averted. "Woh... tumhare kapde... peeche... woh bandh... khula hai((Um... your clothes... at the back... the tie... it's undone)," he stammered, trying to explain without making her uncomfortable. 

Prachi's eyes widened as she realized what he meant. She turned her head slightly, her hand flying to her back to feel the undone tie. Her face turned crimson with embarrassment. "Oh... woh toh main... abhi theek kar lungi(Oh... I... I'll fix it now)," she muttered, lowering her gaze. 

Ranbir, sensing her discomfort, quickly stepped away, heading towards the door. "Main... balcony chhod deta hoon. Tum... araam se theek kar lo((I'll leave the balcony. You... take your time to fix it)," he said, trying to put her at ease. 

Prachi nodded shyly, unable to meet his eyes. "Dhanyavaad, Ranbir ji((Thank you, Ranbir)," she whispered, clutching her dupatta tightly. 

As soon as he stepped out, Prachi let out a small sigh of relief and moved towards the mirror to tie her churidar. But before she could manage it, she suddenly felt a hand brush against her back. She froze.

The touch wasn't gentle or respectful—it was invasive, making her feel uneasy instantly. Her heart sank, and a wave of disgust washed over her. This wasn't Ranbir.

Whipping around, she found herself face-to-face with Kunal Agnihotri. His eyes were filled with an obsessive glint, and a twisted smirk played on his lips.

"Kunal!" she exclaimed, her voice sharp with shock and anger. "Yahan kya kar rahe ho? Kisne tumhe andar aane diya(Kunal! What are you doing here? Who let you inside?)"

Kunal chuckled darkly, ignoring her questions. "Tumhare paas aane ke liye mujhe kisi izzat ki zarurat nahi, Prachi. Tum toh meri thi, ho, aur hamesha rahogi(I don't need permission to come near you, Prachi. You were, are, and always will be mine)," he said, his tone possessive. 

Prachi's blood boiled. She stepped back, her hands fisting at her sides. "Meri izzat ko haath lagane ki himmat kaise hui tumhari? Main tumhari kabhi nahi thi aur na kabhi banungi(How dare you touch my dignity? I was never yours, and I never will be!)" she shouted, her voice trembling with fury. 

Kunal's expression darkened. "Tch tch... itni gussa? Aur woh Ranbir Kohli ke saath? Uske liye yeh sab shauk? Tumhe lagta hai woh tumhe apnayega? Woh toh bas ek paisewala gawaar hai (Tch tch... so much anger? And with that Ranbir Kohli? All this effort for him? You think he'll accept you? He's just a rich, uncultured man!)" he spat, his tone laced with venom.

Prachi's eyes burned with tears, but her resolve didn't waver. She took a step closer, her voice steady and firm. "Tum jaise gire hue aadmi ko mujhe aur mere honewale pati ko judge karne ka koi haq nahi hai! Ranbir ji ek achhe insaan hain, aur main unki hamesha izzat karungi(A man like you has no right to judge me or my future husband! Ranbir ji is a good person, and I will always respect him)," she declared, her chin raised defiantly. 

Kunal sneered, stepping closer, but Prachi didn't flinch. "Dekhte hain kab tak unki izzat karte rahogi. Main wapas aaunga, Prachi. Yeh baat yaad rakhna(Let's see how long you keep respecting him. I'll be back, Prachi. Remember that)," he said menacingly before turning and walking away. 

As soon as he left, Prachi let out a shaky breath, her hands trembling as she clutched her dupatta tightly around her shoulders. Her heart raced, but she quickly regained her composure. She couldn't let this incident affect her.

Without wasting another moment, she hurried to Namrata's room, knocking softly. Namrata opened the door, her face lighting up with concern. "Jiji? Aap thik ho? Aapke chehre ka rang kyun udaa hua hai(Sister? Are you okay? Why does your face look so pale?)"

Prachi forced a small smile, stepping inside. "Choti, kya tum meri churidar ka bandh baandh dogi(Little sister, can you tie the knot of my churidar?)" she asked quietly, turning her back towards Namrata. 

Namrata tied it quickly, sensing something was wrong but not pressing the issue. "Jiji, kuch hua hai kya? Aap itni chintit kyun lag rahi ho(Sister, did something happen? Why do you look so worried?)"

Prachi placed a reassuring hand on Namrata's shoulder. "Kuch nahi, choti. Bas subah kaafi lambi thi,(Nothing, Little sister. It's just been a long morning.)" she said softly, trying to hide the storm raging inside her. 

But as she sat on the edge of the bed, her thoughts lingered on Ranbir—his respect, his kindness, his warmth. She took a deep breath, determined to not let Kunal's intrusion shadow her growing bond with Ranbir.

The family gathered around the large wooden dining table, its surface adorned with steaming dishes of poha, parathas, chutneys, and freshly brewed chai. The morning sunlight filtered through the lace curtains, adding a warm glow to the cheerful chatter around the table.

Prachi moved gracefully between everyone, carefully serving each member with a calm demeanor that masked the turmoil within her. Her encounter with Kunal loomed heavy in her mind, but she kept her composure, her soft eyes downcast.

As she placed a spoonful of poha onto Naitik's plate, he beamed. "Bahut acchi khushboo hai, Prachi. Tumhare haathon ka bana hamesha lajawab hota hai(This smells amazing, Prachi. Whatever you make is always exceptional)," he said warmly. 

She smiled faintly, mumbling a polite, "Dhanyavaad, Papaji(Thank you Dad)," before moving on to Babita, who was seated beside him.

Babita looked at the bowl of poha with a sharp eye, her lips pressing into a thin line. "Zyada mat dalo, Prachi. Mujhe sirf ek chamach chaiye. Aur chutney toh bilkul mat dena—itni teekhi hoti hai tumhari chutney(Don't give me too much, Prachi. I only want one spoonful. And don't give me any chutney—your chutney is always too spicy)," she said curtly, waving her hand dismissively. 

Prachi nodded, her hands trembling slightly as she adjusted the serving spoon. "Ji, Chachiji(Yes, Aunty)," she replied softly, quickly filling the plate to Babita's specifications.

Next was Kartik, who sat with a bright smile. "Arey, Choti behan! Mujhe jo bhi tumhare dil se mile, wahi best hai(Hey, little sister! Whatever you give me with love is the best)," he said, nudging her playfully. "Agar Babita chachi ko kam chahiye, toh unka poha mujhe de do(If Babita Chachi wants less, then give me her share!)"

Prachi's lips twitched into a faint smile at Kartik's attempt to lighten the mood. She placed a generous portion on his plate, and he grinned. "Yahi baat hai! Tumhari haathon ka bana khana mere liye toh prasad ke barabar hai(That's the spirit! Food made by you is equal to divine offering for me)," he said dramatically, making Naira giggle. 

Prachi moved towards Ranbir, who was sitting quietly near the balcony door. His dark eyes had been subtly observing her throughout breakfast, noting her distracted expression and the slight tremble in her hands. Something was wrong, but he couldn't pinpoint what.

As she reached his side, Ranbir held out his plate, expecting her to serve him. However, as soon as she began to scoop the poha onto it, he grabbed the plate back from her hands firmly. His voice, low but commanding, made her freeze.

"Enough," he said, staring directly into her wide, startled eyes.

"Kya hua, Ranbir ji(What happened, Ranbir?)" she asked hesitantly, her voice barely above a whisper. 

Ranbir placed his plate on the table with a sharp clink and stood up. "Tum bas baitho. Mujhe serve karne ki zarurat nahi hai(Just sit down. You don't need to serve me)," he said sternly. 

"Par main(But I—)" Prachi began, but Ranbir cut her off.

"Main serve karunga(I'll serve myself)," he said, his tone softening slightly, though his expression remained firm. "Tum baith jao aur khana khao. Bas(You sit down and eat. That's it.)"

Prachi hesitated, looking around at the others. Babita frowned, but Naitik and Kartik exchanged amused glances, while Naira tried to suppress a smile. Namrata, meanwhile, was grinning outright, clearly enjoying the scene.

Prachi finally lowered her gaze, her cheeks turning a deep shade of pink. "Ji... Ranbir ji(Yes... Ranbir)," she murmured, reluctantly sitting down at the table. 

Ranbir grabbed the serving spoons and began placing food on his plate. As he worked, he glanced at her from the corner of his eye. "Tumhe har kaam karne ki zarurat nahi hai, samjhi(You don't need to do everything, understand?)" he said gently but firmly. 

Prachi nodded shyly, her fingers twisting the edge of her dupatta. "Lekin main apni zimmedaari nibhana chahti hoon(But I want to fulfill my responsibilities)," she replied quietly, her voice laced with sincerity.

Ranbir turned back to his plate, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Zimmedaari nibhana tab tak theek hai jab tak tum khud ko thakaa na do(Fulfilling responsibilities is fine as long as you don't exhaust yourself)," he said, his voice filled with a quiet warmth. 

Prachi looked up at him briefly, her heart fluttering at his words. There was something so caring and genuine about him, and it left her both flustered and comforted.

As Ranbir sat back down with his plate, Kartik leaned over and teased him, "Wah, Ranbir! Pehli baar kisi ko tumhari baat sunte hue dekha. Varna tum toh hamesha kehte the ki tumhe order dena nahi aata(Wow, Ranbir! This is the first time I've seen someone actually listen to you. Otherwise, you're always saying you don't know how to give orders.)" 

Ranbir rolled his eyes but said nothing, focusing instead on his food.

Meanwhile, Prachi ate quietly, her heart heavy with the memory of Kunal's intrusion. Yet, Ranbir's small gesture of care warmed her soul, and for the first time that morning, she allowed herself a faint, genuine smile.

The family gathered in the living room after breakfast, the morning's buzz now settling into an air of anticipation. Naitik, Kartik, Naira, Babita, and Raj sat on the couches, their eyes glinting with curiosity. Namrata perched on the armrest, while Kairav, blissfully unaware of the gravity of the moment, played with a small wooden toy in the corner. Ranbir and Prachi stood near the center, facing the family but careful to avoid meeting each other's gaze.

The room was quiet, save for the soft clinking of teacups and the occasional chirping of birds from the open window.

Naitik cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "Toh, Ranbir aur Prachi(So, Ranbir and Prachi...)" he began, his voice steady but laced with expectation. "Yeh baat sabse zaruri hai. Kya tum dono ek doosre ke saath poori zindagi bitane ke liye tayar ho? Shaadi aur prem ke bandhan mein(This is the most important question. Are you both ready to spend your lives together? In the bond of marriage and love?)"

Prachi froze, her fingers instinctively clutching the ends of her dupatta. Ranbir, on the other hand, straightened slightly, though his usually confident demeanor faltered for a moment.

Kartik, always the joker, chimed in with a grin. "Arey, jawab itna bhi mushkil nahi hai, yaar. Yes ya no mein hai." (Hey, the answer isn't that hard, yaar. It's just yes or no.)

"Chup raho, Kartik," Naira said, swatting her husband's arm. "Yeh dono ke liye bahut badi baat hai. Unhe sochne do." (Be quiet, Kartik. This is a big deal for them. Let them think.)

Babita folded her arms, her expression unreadable. "Prachi, Ranbir, yeh tum dono ka faisla hai. Apne mann ki suno, aur jo theek lage woh bolo," she said firmly. (Prachi, Ranbir, this is your decision. Listen to your heart and say what feels right.)

Ranbir took a deep breath, his eyes briefly darting toward Prachi before returning to Naitik. "Main toh tayar hoon, lekin jo zaruri hai woh Prachi ka jawab hai," he said softly, his voice calm but slightly shaky. (I'm ready, but what matters is Prachi's answer.)

All eyes turned to Prachi, whose face was a mix of anxiety and deep thought. She hesitated, her voice caught in her throat as she fiddled nervously with her dupatta. Namrata leaned forward, her gaze filled with encouragement.

"Jiji, jo aapke mann mein hai woh boliye," Namrata said gently. (Jiji, say what's in your heart.)

Prachi finally looked up, her gaze sweeping over each face in the room before resting briefly on Ranbir. His eyes, soft and hopeful, made her heart ache. But then the memory of Kunal's intrusion from the morning flashed in her mind, sending a shiver down her spine. She couldn't escape her fear entirely, and it clouded her thoughts.

"Main..." she began, her voice barely above a whisper. She cleared her throat and tried again, her tone firmer but laced with hesitation. "Main is rishte ke liye tayar nahi hoon." (I am not ready for this relationship.)

The words hung in the air like a thunderclap.

The room fell silent, and everyone stared at her in shock. Namrata's mouth fell open, her eyes wide with disbelief. Kartik's grin disappeared, replaced by an expression of surprise, while Naitik's brows furrowed in confusion.

Ranbir's face drained of color. He blinked, as though unsure he'd heard her correctly. "Kya?" he said, his voice low and disbelieving. (What?)

Babita exchanged a knowing glance with Raj, her lips pressed into a thin line. Even Kairav stopped playing with his toy and looked around, sensing the tension.

"Prachi?" Naitik finally said, his voice filled with both concern and confusion. "Tumne yeh kyun kaha? Kya tum sach mein...?" (Why did you say that? Are you really...?)

Prachi clenched her fists at her sides, her heart pounding in her chest. She lowered her gaze, unable to meet anyone's eyes. "Main... bas... mujhe laga..." she stammered, unable to form a coherent sentence. (I... just... I thought...)

The silence stretched unbearably, the weight of her words sinking in. Everyone waited for her to explain, to give a reason, to say something—anything—that would clarify her shocking declaration.

But Prachi said nothing more.