---

Rishi's POV:

I was sitting in my cabin, just after a long meeting. Right in the middle of it, her message had popped up-

"I'm ready to meet."

Cloud nine felt too low for what I felt. I was untouchable. Unvanishable. My smile... unstoppable.

I was waiting for the clock to hit 5 so I could finally leave the office.

Is black too much? Should I wear something else? The best option-OSK Rahul.

I immediately dialed my best friend and video called him. He picked up and said-

"Ha bol bhai."

"Kaisa dikh raha hu?" I asked. (How do I look?)

"Yeh kaisa sawaal hai?" he scoffed. (What kind of question is that?)

"Abe jaldi bata na!" I insisted. (Come on, tell me quickly!)

"Accha lag raha hai, perfect boss," he smiled. (You look good, perfect boss.)

"Kuch aur pehen lu kya?" I asked, still unsure. (Should I wear something else?)

"Nahi bhai, bohot sahi lag raha hai. Par puch kyun raha hai?" he asked curiously. (No man, you're looking great. But why are you asking?)

"Miss Maheshwari se milne ja raha hu," I said, trying to sound casual. (Going to meet Miss Maheshwari.)

"Abe oye! Yeh kab hua? Ek nazar mein pyaar?" he laughed. (Oye! When did this happen? Love at first sight?)

"Bas bhai... all the best bol de," I grinned.

"All the best! Full hold le," he chuckled. (All the best! Go win her.)

I ended the call, grabbed my car keys, and drove to the café I had booked the moment she texted. When I reached, I asked the receptionist if the preparations were done.

"Yes, sir," she confirmed.

I headed toward the table. After a few minutes of waiting, my nervousness crept in.

So, I called the one person who always made me feel calm-my bhabhi.

"Bol Rishu," she answered in her soft, comforting voice. (Speak, Rishu.)

I sighed. "Bhabhi... agar vo aaye toh kya main pehle bolu?" (If she comes, should I speak first?)

"Beta tu tension bilkul mat le. I'm sure mere devar pura husband material hai," she said warmly. (Don't worry, son. I'm sure my brother-in-law is complete husband material.)

"Bhabhi, tension nahi hai... bas thoda nervous hu," I admitted.

"Rishi mental aur nervous?" she chuckled. (Rishi and nervous?)

"Yaar bhabhi, mazak mat udao." (Come on, don't joke.)

"Nahi, yeh joke hi hai ki tu nervous hai," she laughed louder. (No, the real joke is you being nervous.)

"Kaise bhabhi ho aap, apne devar ka mazak bana rahi ho," I pouted. (What kind of bhabhi are you, making fun of your own brother-in-law?)

"Ab tu joke hi itna accha sunayega toh hansi toh aayegi na," she teased. (If you crack such good jokes, how can I not laugh?)

"Accha accha, suno... jab vo aaye na, uski choti choti details ko note kar. Agar vo nervous ho toh usse comfortable feel karva. Aur pyaar se baat karna Rishu, please. Tu wahan boss nahi hai... vo teri boss banegi," she guided me with seriousness. (Okay listen... when she comes, notice her little details. If she's nervous, make her feel comfortable. And talk with love. You're not a boss there... she's going to be your boss.)

"Thank you bhabhi ji, love you," I smiled.

"Love you devar ji. Ab meri devrani se milke pakka kar ke hi ghar aana," she said. (Love you, brother-in-law. Now come home only after confirming this with your future wife.)

"Matlab uske bina main ghar nahi aa sakta kya?" I teased. (So I can't come home without her?)

"Haan, nahi aa sakta. Bohot time se meri ichha poori hone wali hai. Agle mahine teri shaadi mein nachungi," she declared. (Nope, you can't. My wish is about to come true. I'll dance at your wedding next month.)

"Ab toh 'haan' sunne ke baad hi apka devar ghar aayega," I said. (Now your brother-in-law will only return after hearing a 'yes'.)

"Shabash puttar," she blessed. (Good boy.)

"Bye! Warna bhatija mere sar pe naach raha hoga agar uski favourite cookies nahi bani toh," she added. (Bye! Or else your nephew will dance on my head if I don't make his favorite cookies.)

I ended the call, looked at the bouquet-white tulips. I thought white would be safe. Red felt too soon.

I tapped my fingers nervously on the table, waiting for her. Then, I heard footsteps.

She entered from the café entrance.

She exuded timeless grace in a black and white salwar suit adorned with delicate embroidery, blending tradition and elegance. A soft white dupatta rested gently over her shoulder, and a small black bindi graced her forehead. She was a vision-poised, classic, beautiful.

I stood up immediately and gestured, "After you."

"Please sit, Mr. Mehta," she said.

I didn't. Not yet.

She took her seat, and just before I could open my mouth-

"Look, Mr. Mehta. I'll be clear.

I have no interest in marriage and absolutely zero interest in becoming a maid-or should I say-unpaid labor."

Her voice was firm, no-nonsense.

"I've never imagined my life as someone's wife. Because in this society, that title often translates to free labor or sex slave. I didn't study, fight, or grow up dreaming of becoming someone's maid, okay? If you think I'm going to run your house, I'd like to reject this proposal here and keep my self-respect intact."

She reminded me of my mom in that moment-stern, commanding, and heartbreakingly honest.

"I'm not here to be your ideal wife," she finished.

I held back a smile. "May I speak now?"

She nodded, slightly cautious.

"I'm not looking for a wife to serve me. I want a partner. Someone to walk beside me, not behind. You're not a prisoner. Your mind, your spirit, your no's-they matter to me just as much as your yes. I swear, I will spend my life making sure you feel free... never owned."

---

Janvi's POV:

"...you feel free... never owned."

His words echoed in my mind like a forgotten melody. And somehow... they made my heart flutter.

"Miss Maheshwari, I know how you must be feeling. It's scary. But I want to make sure... it feels beautiful, like a dream."

He looked into my eyes with sincerity that felt rare.

"And about being a maid or a slave," he continued, "let me tell you-

I was raised by a strong, independent mother and a father who respects women.

In my home, daughters are considered goddesses.

We worship them."

Tears welled up in my eyes. I quickly turned to the window, hiding my vulnerability.

"I still don't believe it," I whispered, not ready to trust.

"Then let our families meet tomorrow," he said gently. "You don't have to decide anything now. Take your time... I understand how your mind must be racing."

He offered me the bouquet of tulips. "Please accept these... as a sign that you're allowing my family to come."

I took them-still unsure, still hesitant, but with trembling hope.

Maybe... just maybe... this was the beginning of something real.

---

Hey lovelies

I hope you all liked the chapter

Please have a little patience and wait there are many exiting chapters you need to witness

🖤🩶🤍