Chapter 4: Words She Couldn’t Say

“Why don’t you both go and talk?” Pavan’s mother suggested with a warm smile, looking at Poornima.

“Yes, go beta,” Riya added gently.

Poornima glanced at her parents for a second, then at Pavan, and nodded. “Okay.”

They walked out toward the garden, the night air cool and still, the soft rustle of leaves filling the silence between them.

For a few seconds, neither spoke.

Then Pavan broke it.

“So… Poornima,” he said casually, slipping his hands into his pockets, “I’ll be direct. I don’t like complications.”

She looked at him, waiting.

“After marriage, you won’t work.”

The words landed heavily.

Her fingers tightened slightly around her saree.

“I want a simple life,” he continued. “My wife should be at home. No office, no late nights, nothing like that.”

She tried to speak. “…I—”

“And one more thing,” he added, cutting her off. “I prefer sarees. Always. That’s how my wife should be.”

Silence.

Her heart started beating faster, but her face remained calm.

“I also don’t like this… working in your cousin’s company,” he said, his tone changing just a little. “Veeresh or whoever. After marriage, that ends.”

Something inside her shifted.

Not loud.

Not dramatic.

Just… uncomfortable.

Like a quiet protest rising in her chest.

She wanted to say something.

Anything.

This isn’t what I want.
This isn’t me.

But the words stayed stuck.

Her upbringing. Her family. The expectations.

They wrapped around her voice and held it back.

Pavan looked at her. “You’re okay with that, right?”

A long pause.

Her lips parted.

“…Okay,” she said softly.

The word felt heavier than anything she had ever said before.

“Good,” he smiled, satisfied. “That makes things easier.”

They walked back toward the house, side by side, but miles apart in silence.

Inside, all eyes turned to them.

“So?” Siddharth asked.

Pavan spoke first, confident. “We’re good.”

Poornima nodded slowly. “Yes.”

Smiles spread across the room.

“That’s wonderful,” Lakshmi said happily.

“Then we’ll start preparing,” Raju added.

Conversations flowed easily after that—dates, venues, guest lists.

Poornima sat there, responding when needed, smiling when expected.

But inside…

Something had gone quiet.

Dinner passed in a blur of voices and clinking plates.

By the time Pavan and his family left, the house slowly settled into silence again.

Poornima stepped out into the balcony corridor, needing air.

Downstairs, the garden lights cast soft shadows on the ground.

And then—

She felt it.

A presence.

She looked up.

Veeresh stood in the balcony above, his figure calm, unreadable against the dim light.

For a moment, neither spoke.

No greetings.

No formalities.

Just silence.

But it wasn’t empty.

Something unspoken passed between them.

A question.

A weight.

A knowing.

His eyes lingered on her, sharper than usual, as if reading something she hadn’t said.

Then, simply—

“Bring ginger tea. Strong.”

His voice was low, steady.

Not a request.

Not exactly an order either.

Just… certain.

Before she could respond, he turned and walked inside.

Poornima stood there for a second, her heart strangely unsettled.

Then she moved.

In the kitchen, she prepared the tea carefully, her hands moving on instinct—grating ginger, boiling it longer than usual, making it strong… just like he said.

The aroma filled the space, warm and grounding.

She poured it into a cup, steadying her breath.

Then walked toward his room.

The door was slightly open.

She knocked softly.

“Come in,” his voice came from inside.

He was at his desk, laptop open, files scattered, completely absorbed in work.

She stepped in quietly and placed the cup near him.

“Your tea.”

He didn’t look up immediately. “Hmm.”

A second passed.

Then his gaze lifted.

It met hers.

Sharp.

Observant.

As if he was looking beyond just her face.

“You made it strong?” he asked.

“Yes.”

A pause.

Something flickered in his expression—approval, maybe.

Or something else.

He picked up the cup, taking a sip without breaking eye contact.

For a moment, time slowed.

Poornima felt it again.

That same strange feeling from before.

Unfamiliar.

Unsettling.

But not… wrong.

She looked away first.

“I’ll leave,” she said softly.

He didn’t stop her.

But as she reached the door—

“Poornima.”

She paused, turning slightly.

He held her gaze for a second longer, as if deciding whether to say something more.

Then—

“Close the door.”

Nothing else.

She nodded quietly and stepped out, closing the door behind her.

And as she walked away down the corridor, one thought echoed silently within her—

Why did it feel like he saw everything she couldn’t say?