The incessant ringing of his alarm woke them, and Nandini quickly gathered the sheets around herself after realizing the situation she was in while evading chancing a glance at him. He turned the alarm off as quickly as his clumsy fingers allowed while he viewed her antics out of the corners of his eyes. A chortle escaped his throat when he saw how embarrassed she was to even glimpse at him. Rather, she concentrated her attention on the ceiling above with her lips slightly parted and her palms clutching onto the blue sheet over her bosom.

"Good morning," he murmured, inching closer to her as his lips touched her earlobes.

She bit her lips and finally gathered enough courage to look at him.  "Morning."

A bright smile came upon his face when he perceived the blush on her cheeks.

She gulped hard and fiddled with her bracelet. "Was I too sloppy last night?"

He chuckled, ruffling her hair. "You were great, Nandini."

She donned a radiant smile. "Things were so... perfect."

"Perfect." He grinned. "But I gotta go now. My flight is in three hours."

She nodded, pecking his lips. "Be back soon. I will be right here, waiting for you."

***

With a skip in her step, Nandini made her way towards Aditya's apartment. Covering the distance in five minutes, she took the stairs since she was getting too impatient to wait for the elevator. They could barely interact during the Diwali dinner at Rishi's place, and she needed to talk to him, especially after last night with Shubham. Perhaps she was on her way to finding love in the city—something she had always desired—and all of it could be attributed to Aditya.

Though she didn't find the time to cook since she had to go to her office that morning, she planned to make something special for him and Abhi for dinner. With the ingredients for a healthy salad for the devil and Choley Bhature for herself and Abhi tucked in the two bags in her hands, she carefully knocked at his door.

He opened it a few moments later, and she smiled wide at him, but it faltered when his eyes swelled upon seeing her, and his lips parted.

"Aditya—"

"Mom! Dad! I want to introduce you to someone special," he said, a grin developing on his features.

She giggled. "Ooh! Your parents are here. I would love to meet them."

"Who is it, Adi?" came a feminine voice from inside.

He beamed and swung the door wide open. "Mom, Dad, meet Nandini." He glimpsed at the two middle-aged people inside, a glint shining in his eyes. "My girlfriend."

Nandini blinked at the equally dumbfounded people inside before understanding dawned. "Your what?" she screeched, staring at Aditya in shock. Fumbling for words, she let her eyes wander over his parents, and she could see the similarities between his mother and him. Perhaps that was where he got his good looks from, for she was in her mid-50s but was still supremely stunning and looked young with her silken saree pleated perfectly and her black, waist-length hair trimmed to perfection. His father had salt and pepper hair, and Nandini was strongly reminded of her own father, for both of them could be termed smart and dashing. But she halted her appreciation session as Aditya repeated the same words all over again.

"She is my girlfriend. Nandini. And, sweetheart," he beamed at her, "they are my parents. They arrived a few hours ago."

"Girlfriend?" Abnish said, furrowing his brows. Pointing at Nandini, he said, "She is your girlfriend?"

Aditya flashed a victorious smile at his shocked parents, pulling Nandini closer, his palm lying on the curve of her waist while she was flush against his side. "Yes. Pretty, isn't she?"

Nandini's eyes widened to twice their normal sizes, and her mouth hung agape. She tried to wriggle out of his hold, albeit unsuccessfully. "What?" she yelled. "What the fu...uh..." She cleared her throat, casting a wary glance at the older Roy couple. Smiling weakly at them, she said, "Aditya, can I talk to you for a moment?"

"Yes, sweetheart." He was about to pinch her cheeks, but a glare from her coerced him to retract his fingers and purse his lips. "Come with me."

"Wait," Sandhya said, holding Aditya's wrist and staring at the girl. "You are my son's girlfriend, and your name is Nandini?"

"Nandini Basu," Aditya said, emphasizing her last name.

Nandini blinked a few times. "I am not... I mean..." She gulped, wincing since Aditya had tightened his hold around her waist, and she got the hint. "I am still trying to figure out," she chuckled, "regarding what I am to him."

"But I am very clear about it, babe," he said, pouting. "You are my girlfriend. I am your boyfriend. End of discussion."

"The discussion hasn't even begun yet, boyfriend," she muttered, glowering at him.

"No, no, wait," Abnish said, frowning, his eyes darting between the other couple and his wife. "She... uh... Nandini is your girlfriend."

"Yes, Dad. That's what I said. A million times now." Aditya flashed a genuine smile at his parents. "Perfect, isn't she?"

"So perfect," Sandhya mumbled, shrugging when peering at her equally confused husband.

Abnish scratched his chin. "Is she the reason why you blocked Ayesha's number and never responded to the messages she sent via social media?"

Aditya rolled his eyes, taking his hands off Nandini's waist, and she visibly sighed in relief. "Ayesha Mukherjee is the most obnoxious, annoying girl I have ever met in my life," he said. "I told her I am not interested in striking up a relationship with her, but no! She had to stalk my social media profiles to the extent that she was liking my pictures from six years ago. She was practically harassing me. If that's the kind of girls your social circle has, Mom," he put up a sardonic smile, "I am better off without any of them."

Sandhya twisted her lips. "Ayesha's mother is furious, and she told me she doesn't want me to be the club's president the following year. I lost a precious vote, and Ranjana Mukherjee holds a lot of political clout in the club."

Aditya clicked his tongue. "Seriously, Mom? Stop discussing these petty politics with me."

Sandhya was about to retort when Abnish cut her off. "Listen, young man, this girl, right here, is very pretty, very sweet, I agree. But—"

"I knew it!" Aditya huffed. "Can we please come out of the old-school thinking? And how can you even compare that horrible man Soumya married to this wonderful girl standing right next to me? There is no comparison at all. Nan here doesn't even know what my parents do and how affluent they are. Additionally, her father owns a flourishing business in Delhi. She is not after your money like Shantanu was."

"I am not a gold digger," Nandini said, her lips drooping.

"I did not say so, darling," Abnish said, patting the girl's shoulders. "I am assured that you are a wonderful girl, well-suited for this crazy man whom I am compelled to call my son."

"Dad!"

"But," Abnish continued at a higher note, disregarding the raucous counter Aditya was trying to come up with, "the point is that his grandmother—"

"I know Thamma doesn't believe in love marriages and she thinks all of this is nonsense." Aditya plopped on the barstool. "But you two are getting ahead of yourselves for no reason. Nandini and I are just dating. We haven't given marriage a thought. Am I right, sweetheart?"

Nandini's nose scrunched up in aversion. "Yeah, he is right," she mumbled in a monotone.

Sandhya tugged at her hair in frustration. "But—"

"Nope." Aditya shook his head vehemently. "Nothing doing. I am not listening. I introduced you to my girlfriend, and you should be happy she belongs to the same community as us, isn't it? She is a Bengali too." He glimpsed at the three other people. "Now, we will see what happens further. Perhaps we will be happy. Perhaps we won't be."

"But—"

"Mom! No! You have always let me make my own decisions. I can't conform to your old-school ideals where you approve of my life partner before I do, and then my viewpoint won't hold any cognizance. I can't handle that anymore. And as far as Thamma's reluctance is concerned, I will convince her my way if Nandini and I decide to get married. For now, that discourse doesn't even make sense because we are just dating. Only dating. Right, sweetheart?"

Nandini almost gagged at the term of endearment. "Right. Sweetheart." She grimaced. "Right."

All four of them fell silent for a bit, staring at the walls, couches, kitchen appliances, and ceilings while quietness ensued in the hall.

Finally, Abnish broke the silence after a long minute. "Sandhya, a word?"

"Yes, a lot of words will be needed," Sandhya said, taking deep breaths.

"Feel free to use my bedroom," Aditya said, pointing towards the door to his room.

"Aditya," Nandini sang. "I think we should talk too."

***

Furious with the situation, incensed that Aditya would even try to come up with such a prevarication, irked with herself that she didn't counter him right away, she pulled him towards Abhi's bedroom. But seeing the disorderly mess that was inside, she clicked her tongue and pushed him towards the little corner tucked between the bathroom doors and the granite countertop where a couple of sinks and a humongous bathroom mirror reflected the two of them—an angry girl with hair flying everywhere and a nonchalant man who took a piece of gum out of his shirt's pocket and popped it inside his mouth.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" she whisper-yelled, scowling, flailing her arms and legs. "Why would you say that? It's a lie. It's a lie. I am telling you. It's a lie."

Leaning against the countertop, rolling his eyes, crossing his arms across his chest, he said, "I know it's a lie. Would you please calm down and hear me out?"

She stomped her feet. "Not until you tell me why you lied."

"Such a vixen she is," he mumbled under his breath. Smiling sarcastically at her, he said, "For that, I would have to open my mouth and utter words. Let me know whenever you are ready."

She huffed, pushing off her curly hair from her face. "Speak. Right now."

He took a deep breath. "My family is quite well-known in Kolkata. My Dad is the MD of Roy Publications."

"Ooh!" She clapped her hands with her eyes widened. "I have heard of the publishing house. Books, newspapers, magazines."

"Yep." He nodded. "You got it right. They are traditional, conservative—"

"The ideal, quintessential, rich Bengali family of Kolkata with a legacy of their own. I understand."

"Right." He smiled in appreciation. "You got it right. Again. Anyway," he raked his hand through his hair, "they are still very regressive in their thinking. Especially my grandmother. The idea of girlfriends and love marriages and dating and relationships are so foreign to them that it's practically banned."

She snickered. "Really? I mean, my parents are conservative too, but they have always encouraged me to date and... you know..."

"My family is anything but like that. And I don't blame them. The one time they let their guard down, pushed aside all those sky-high expectations from their children, something terrible happened, and my entire family was left broken and in tatters. I have an elder sister. Soumya. She," he licked his lips, "fell in love when she was barely twenty years old. He was from her college, and she was so much in love with him that she didn't pause and think about what kind of a man he was. He just wanted money, and my sister was gullible enough to marry him.

"Initially, my family was against her boyfriend for obvious reasons. Conservatism and all. But they gave in eventually, for Soumya was adamant, and my father can't see tears in his only daughter's eyes. Soumya and that man got married, but he turned out to be the biggest fucking loser I have ever seen in my life."

Nandini's lips parted because of the doleful expressions on his face. She could tell he was having a tough time recounting the memories of the yore, striving hard to express his emotions into words, which, to date, she had never seen him do. She had never seen him struggle for words or get so emotional over something that his eyes glistened with unshed tears and his voice cracked. Her palms automatically went to his forearms, roaming over his shirt. "You okay, Aditya?"

"No, I am not." He let out a puff of air. "My sister was physically, sexually, and emotionally abused for two years before she could gather enough courage to return home and sever all ties with him. But that fucker didn't let her live in peace. He dragged her to the court, maligning her name and character, and went to the media to hype up the case, accusing her of an extra-marital affair when it was he who cheated on Soumya repeatedly and drove her to the point of taking her own life."

She gasped, and her palm flew over her mouth. "I am so sorry. I... Is your sister fine now?"

"Yeah." His hands clenched around the thin surface of the cabinets that extrapolated under the sink. "Ordinarily, I don't like to relive those memories. It's not pretty when you go back home during the summer break, and you have to take your sister to the hospital on the third day of the vacation because she purposely overdosed on sleeping pills."

She stepped back, gathering her hair into a bun. "Wow!" She let out a puff of air. "I am not sure how to react to that."

His expression turned grave, and he lightly banged his palms on the granite countertop. "She had to piece together her broken heart for too long before she could put herself back again. It took her two years to battle depression. She is fine, thanks to Samarth. He used to be her school friend before they went their own ways and lost touch. But when they reconnected, he taught her how to live again, how to love again. If not for him, my sister's life would have been effectually ruined because of one wrong decision. Now, so many years later, she is happily married to Samarth, and she has the sweetest kid in the entire world."

She smiled. "That's amazing. I am glad she is fine. But," she bit her lips, "Piyali is nothing like your sister's ex. That girl genuinely loves you."

"And I love her too, but my parents and my grandmother will be dead against my sweet, gorgeous girlfriend, and Soumya will be hurt in the due process because they will keep reminding me in front of her that she fell into a trap and I shouldn't even think of making the same mistake. Hence, my mother would like to introduce me to a girl from her social circle regardless of what I feel. It's like they want to... to force their decisions on me."

"Oh!" Her eyes glimmered. "Ayesha Mukherjee."

He scoffed. "Don't even remind me. She used to be nice when we were in school, but now, she is such a botheration."

She giggled. "I get it. It's just weird because... you are a guy. I didn't know guys have such problems at home too."

"Conservative Indian parents, Baby Elephant. They think along the same lines, irrespective of the gender of their children. The baseline is they might not create so much drama if I tell them that my girlfriend is not from a different caste or a different community. You are a Bengali." He beamed. "And the ideal candidate for me."

She gasped once again, taking two steps back. "Now, you want me to marry you?" she screamed. "I am not going to marry a messy person like you. Are you listening to me?"

"Stop yelling."

"I cannot marry a man who leaves wet towels on the bed. Piyali has told me. I know what all you do."

"Stop yelling."

"I can't—"

"I am not asking you to marry me, stupid girl." He rolled his eyes once more. "This is just a temporary arrangement, alright? Here we go with the story! We are currently dating, and we will break up in a few weeks. Then, my parents will understand that this caste and language and whatnot has nothing to do with how a person is. Compatibility doesn't stem from the culture or heritage two people share. Finally... enter..."

Her frown lines cleared. "Piyali..."

"Exactly!" He grinned. "You pick up fine, Baby Elephant." He poked her arms, but his nose scrunched up when he couldn't feel her bones under the chubbiness she boasted of. "Quite fat you are, huh!"

She pushed him away and smacked his arms as violently as she could, and he had to hold her wrists in a tight clasp, flipping their positions, pressing her against the granite countertop as he leaned closer, hovering over her. No matter how much she tried, she couldn't fight him and his iron-clad grip. With the wall on one side, he blocked her from the front while the other side had a wooden cabinet, and hence she had nowhere to go. She was furthermore irked when he smirked at her, chewing on his gum as nonchalantly as possible.

Clicking her tongue, giving up her struggles, she said, "You body shame me one more time—"

"Who said I am body shaming you?" he snapped. "You can call a lean person lean. I cannot call you fat?"

She opened and closed her mouth like a fish, unable to come up with a retort. Letting out a scoff, she ultimately said, "You cannot call me that because it's more... more..."

"Embarrassing?"

She batted her lashes, pouting and nodding. "Don't call me fat. Please?"

"Okay, fatso." He winked. "As you say."

She whined, trying to wiggle out of his grasp. "I hate you so fucking much, Mr. Devil."

He snickered. "I love it when we banter like this."

"Don't talk to me."

His nose flared, and his smile dropped. "Now, now, Baby Elephant." He folded her arms behind her back, and his intense gaze pierced her very soul as he dropped the joviality. "Never say that," he whispered, leaning down and inching closer to her.

She was forced to bend backward, her head a few centimeters away from the sink. "Say what?"

"It makes me jittery and restive when I don't talk to you."

She shivered when his gaze flickered from her eyes to her lips. "Oh!"

"Tell me, Nandini Basu," he said, his nose nearly touching hers, "will you help me put up a charade in front of my parents?"

She gulped, momentarily forgetting what he was saying. Her arms were trapped against the granite behind, and his hold on her wrists had tightened. She could faintly tell she was in pain, but as his lemony deodorant hit her nostrils, his breath fell on her lips, his front pressed against her bosom, and she forgot how to breathe. Every time he respired, she experienced goosebumps on her neck, familiar tingles down her spine, and she could tell she was once again blushing, but it was not Shubham in front of her this time around. Her eyelids felt heavy, and she yearned to shut them, bask in the propinquity with Aditya Roy, but the mere reminiscence of her almost-boyfriend shook her to the core, and she centered her attention on the man in front of him.

He quirked his brows at her, and she blinked a few times. She had no clue what he had asked earlier as she was busy appreciating how handsome he was, but she could tell what his question could potentially be. Sighing, she said, "Aditya Roy, if my hair or even the tips of it so much as touches any portion of this sink, you are going to die a very brutal death."

His brows creased momentarily, bafflement crossing his face. When he finally comprehended it well, he cackled. "Quite mad you are." Shaking his head, nuzzling her nose with his, he said, "Help me?"

"And what if I say no?"

He noticed the devilish glint shining in her eyes, the way her lips were curving into a smirk. "Who brought Shubham to you? Oh, right!" He chuckled. "That was me."

She pouted. "Exchange of favors, is it?"

"Of course, it is."

She looked away. "Meanie!" Attempting to wiggle out of his hold once again, she said, "Where is Piyali?"

He cursed under his breath. "Had she been here, I wouldn't have spun this tale. It happened in the spur of the fucking moment, and now I can't retract. This has gone a bit too far, and... and it kinda works in my favor. Please? Pretty please?"

She gulped, licking her lips. "But where is Piyali? She was not in the office either."

"She flew to Denver this morning. Her cousin is in labor."

She huffed. "I so fucking hate yo—"

"Take more time, and I might just kiss you."

She scrunched her nose. "Eeeww! That's going to be a horrible experience, I am sure."

"You might never know," he said, winking.

She glowered at him, tried to push him back when his lips inched closer to hers, and he wiggled his brows at her. "I will tell Piyali," she shrieked. "She will come here and berate you for this... this misdemeanor."

"I know how to shut her up too." He grinned. "Shall I give you a live demonstration?"

"Aditya!"

"Nandini!"

She clicked her tongue. "Aditya!"

He clicked his tongue. "Nandini!"

"Okay, this is not what I wanted to see."

Aditya and Nandini were surprised to hear a third voice, and after craning their necks to the other side, their orbs swelled, for Sandhya was gaping at them with a distasteful frown on her face while her arms were crossed in front of her.