"Namaste, Ramya ji! Sir had asked me to come," said Madhuri, adjusting the strap of her functional maroon handbag. The middle-aged receptionist beamed at the younger woman, looking over the monitor of her desktop.

"Ah, yes! He mentioned you might come and asked me to send you in whenever you arrive," Ramya replied, getting up and leading Madhuri toward Arjun's office. "He said you might be a bit tight on time."

Her attorney's thoughtfulness had never failed to evoke ripples of admiration and a gentle breeze of compassion to weaken the hold of self-consciousness. The corners of her lips twitched from a courteous smile to a genuine and heartfelt one. But the heaviness of her heart persisted and the words from a few hours before reverberated in her ears, almost deafening her.

Ramya knocked on Arjun's office door. Arjun chewed on a morsel of rice mixed with rich and scrumptious gravy accompanying the kidney beans. "Oh, I see." He wiped his lips with the paper towel on the desk and set aside the box with Rajma Chawal. "Send her in."

Ramya nodded and turned towards Madhuri while holding the door for her. Madhuri adjusted the scarf over her shoulders and midriff before she walked through the door, not without muttering her thanks to the older woman.

"Namaste, sir!" she said, ambling towards his desk when her eyes fell over the unfinished lunch box of the man sitting across the desk. "Oh, I-I'm sorry, I-I didn't know you were having lunch!"

Arjun chuckled. "It's fine. You didn't barge in without an appointment, and I did say you could come any time after 1 PM. The meetings just went on for longer than I expected."

"I-I could wait while you complete your lunch," she offered with a nervous chuckle as she trailed off. "That would be quite unprofessional, and by all means, please sit!" he said, shaking his head with a glimmer of amusement shining in his eyes.

"But- "

Arjun raised his palm to halt her protests. "I won't waste your time, Madhuri. Especially when I didn't gauge my time accurately. Your time is valuable, and you could spend it studying or resting after a long day at work and night classes."

Arjun sealed the lid back onto the box. "Besides, I don't have any other meetings and there is a microwave in the pantry to heat it again. Sit down, please!"

The advocate's respect and consideration for her time had stimulated the dormant lacrimal glands and the torments of the day lowered the threshold for the activation of the glands. The all-consuming void of her memories drew her consciousness into the darkness of the bygones.

Madhuri tapped her foot against the threshold of their doorway and played with her marital chain whilst stealing glances at the relentless and ceaseless movement of minute and second hands of the grandfather clock.

The squeezing pain in her calves and the discomfort radiating from the back to the ball of her foot made the prospect of resting her back against the sofa and watch the repeat telecast of 'Stories by Rabindranath Tagore' more enticing. She had missed the original telecast because of the schedule clash with the dinnertime of the Shuklas.

"Ridiculous! Poorna Mausi loves to make us wait every time!" she muttered under her breath, shaking her head in disdainful disappointment.

"It is not like you have anything better to do, girl. You are not a child to throw tantrums. And don't you dare insult our guests by welcoming them with a frown!" warned Jaya, peering at the television with the anchor bellowing about a gruesome murder in Noida.

Madhuri's heart sank at the scarcity of consideration displayed by her mother-in-law. With a disgruntled sigh and a failing attempt to maintain a facade of pleasantness, she continued her wait that had gone on for the better part of an hour.

"Madhuri? Madhuri! Are you alright?" Arjun's concerned voice snapped her out of her reverie. She blinked, her dazed eyes meeting his worried gaze. He had walked around his desk, taking a step toward her. Her instinctive response was to retreat, which surprised even her. Arjun's raised eyebrow showed his confusion.

With his palms thrust into his pockets, Arjun stepped away from her and towards his plush chair. "I-I'm sorry. I'm sorry!" she said, noting the dejection etched into his features.

Arjun settled into a chair, shaking his head in negative. "No. You don't have to apologize, Madhuri. You're my client and it is my job to accommodate and understand how difficult your circumstance can be. Divorce proceedings and court trials are never easy, but they are especially difficult when one has to adapt to an altogether new lifestyle."

Madhuri sniffled and tried to force her lips towards the apples of her cheeks. "I-I'm sorry I'm wasting your time."

A flicker of annoyance crossed Arjun's eyes. His work was simpler when he represented the accused, devoid of the residual trauma that often accompanied victims. His tone grew sterner, hinting at his frustration with his own actions.

"I'll say this once, Madhuri. Never apologize for situations beyond your control. Never hesitate to ask or seek what you need. You needed a moment, and I would not expect an explanation or an apology. We can start when you are feeling better. Let me know if you need something else."

Madhuri crashed into the chair with her fingers against her lips. Her therapy session had broken through the walls she had erected around herself, which kept her away from her wants, desires, and her own emotions. She feared judgment of the bespectacled Ms. Noor despite the compassion in her eyes.

However, the Malhotra family was different. Right from the wise and considerate Dr. Vartika Malhotra to the cheery and sweet Jiya Malhotra Solanki, or the stern but thoughtful Advocate Arjun Malhotra, the Malhotras offered her a sense of harmony and affection that made easier to bring down the barriers or embrace the impending breakdown.

Arjun Malhotra, the man with a diploma in psychology, had recognized her incessant need to explain herself stemmed from the fear of consequences as she had seen growing up. Adv. Malhotra feared her trepidation and terror of disappointing others would one day cause her to withdraw the case or breakdown in the courtroom.

Arjun Malhotra, the man, shuddered at the germination of the quiescent seeds of his conscience. The ones he had buried beneath icy nonchalance had sprung to life under the warmth of her hot tears. Years of defending the remorseless guilty and denying the justice to the battered was catching up to him.

Every tear of hers nurtured the bloom of his morality and every sob carried the essence of the bloom to him - not to please, but to punish.

The frantic heaving of her ribcage as it housed her sobs shook the foundation of his illustrious career; the relentless ambition that pushed him was ground into pieces every time she chewed on her lower lip to subdue her sobs.

Her undoing was going to undo him, and the thought petrified him more than any judgment in the courtroom.

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Definitely one of my favorite parts to write for this story. It marks the jumpstart of Arjun's journey into making some tough choices for himself and facing a lot of turbulence. Let me know what you think of the journeys of our leads!