💌 Easy now, my sinners…

Nothing has arrived yet.
And still, everything is preparing.

Some pasts don’t rush back—
they wait until there’s room.

Read gently.
The house already knows. 📖💋

Welcome to Chapter 94. 💋📖

*****

✨ Chapter 94: Before the Arrival

The haveli did not rush.

It never did.

But after the letter arrived, something subtle shifted in the air…..
as if the house had overheard a name it had not heard in years.

Preparations began without announcement.

Extra mattresses were aired in the courtyard. Brass lamps were polished until they caught the sun just right. The old guest rooms, closed for years, were opened, their windows unlatched as light and dust argued over who belonged there now.

Meenal noticed it all.

She always did.

She stood at the threshold of the storeroom, watching two maids lift folded quilts that smelled faintly of camphor and time itself.

“These were kept for festivals,” one murmured.

The second paused, then said quietly,
“Or visitors who never came.”

Meenal said nothing.

Her hand rested instinctively on her belly as she turned away, the movement slower now, careful without being fragile.

In the courtyard, Rajveer supervised from a distance, not commanding, not interfering.

But observing.

He watched Meenal speak to the staff gently, correcting nothing, asking little, and trusting much.

It unsettled him.

Not because she was doing something wrong.

But because the haveli was responding to her instead.

The house had always known how to obey him.

It was learning how to listen to her.

Later that afternoon, Rajveer found her seated beneath the neem tree, shelling peas into a brass bowl.
Munni hovered nearby, narrating a story to no one in particular, while Arun ran around the courtyard chasing a butterfly.

“And then the doll said no and shouted and ran away from the monster," Munni exclaimed dramatically, causing Meenal to chuckle softly as she continued shelling peas.

Rajveer paused.

That word 'storm' had begun to echo too often these days.

“You should rest,” he said, gently but firmly.

Meenal looked up.

“I am resting.”

She added softly, “Rest doesn’t always mean lying down.”

That disarmed him.

He lowered himself onto the stone bench across from her, watching her hands move, steady, practiced, calm.

“They will arrive soon,” he said, watching. Munni ran with her doll in hand, singing a soft lullaby, her laughter filling the air.

“I know.” Meenal slipped some peas into her mouth, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "I can't wait to finally meet them."

Rajveer smiled, but his eyes betrayed a hint of worry.

"You know I'm scared," he admitted quietly.

"Of what?" she raised her eyebrows, feigning innocence.

Rajveer paused before responding, "Of not being enough for them,” he said quietly.

“Of being remembered only for what I failed to do.”

Meenal’s fingers stilled.

Just for a breath.

“Do you regret inviting them?” she asked.

Rajveer shook his head slowly.

“No,” he said. “I fear what they might reflect back.”

She met his gaze then.

“Reflections hurt,” she said gently, “only when we refuse to look at them.”

That was becoming her way: gentle truths offered without demand.

Rajveer looked away, jaw tightening briefly.

“They will ask questions,” he said. “About Megha. About the marriage. About—”

"...about us,” Meenal finished quietly.

He turned back sharply.

“Yes.”

She didn’t flinch.

"So…," she said. "Let them ask. We have nothing to hide."

Rajveer's throat tightened as he considered her words. “What if they look at me the way your family does?”

Meenal paused. "You think my parents hate you?"

Rajveer shook his head as Arun ran in arms around his legs, distracting him momentarily. "No, I don't think, I know…," he replied softly. "Yes, they allowed our marriage, but in all these years they never once visited us or even invited us. They believe Megha died because of me,” he said quietly.
“They may never say it, but they carry it.”

Meeanal reached out and squeezed his hand. "We can't change the past, Thakur Shahab, and maybe you think that way. If they hated you, they wouldn't have allowed our marriage."

"Don't you know, Meenal? They allow this marriage for Arun for my status and wealth, not out of acceptance or respect…" He trailed off, his voice filled with bitterness.

Meenal sighed. "I don't know, and I don't want to…. I have lived long enough under other people’s expectations. Can we now just focus on my mama's visit and enjoy our time together without worrying about others?" Meenal's words were filled with exhaustion and a hint of sadness: “For now, I want peace,” she said softly.
“And I want this child to grow without carrying our past.”

Rajveer nodded as his eyes fell upon Meenal's tired face and then her growing belly. "I understand, Meenal. Let's make the most of your mama's visit and cherish this time together," he said softly, reaching out to hold her hand in reassurance. "But first you need proper rest."

Rajveer lifted Arun into his arms, and the courtyard slowly emptied behind them.

The haveli remained…open windows, aired quilts, doors left ajar…ready for guests… and whatever truths they carried.