Chapter 9: Waiting Without Knowing Why

Poornima adjusted the pleats of her blue saree, the soft fabric falling perfectly as she looked at herself once before stepping out, simple jewellery, calm face, yet something in her presence had changed, something quieter… softer.

The muh dikhai ceremony began, women gathering around her, lifting her veil slightly, smiling, observing, blessing.

“Beautiful…”

“So graceful…”

“Such calm eyes…”

Voices surrounded her, but this time she didn’t feel distant from them.

She folded her hands gently, greeting each one, receiving their blessings with a small nod, a soft smile that came naturally now.

“She is very composed,” someone whispered.

“Perfect for this house,” another added.

Poornima heard it all, but didn’t react, she just sat there, accepting everything quietly.

The ceremony ended smoothly, without discomfort, without heaviness.

As evening settled in, her mother-in-law walked into the kitchen.

“Beta,” she called warmly.

Poornima turned immediately. “Yes, Ma?”

“Today you have to prepare all of Veeresh’s favourite dishes.”

Poornima listened carefully as she listed them one by one.

“Dal tadka… not too spicy.”

“Jeera rice.”

“Aloo fry… he likes it crispy.”

“Chapati soft… very soft.”

“And…” she smiled slightly, “…curd at the end, he always asks.”

Poornima nodded after every detail, memorizing it all. “Okay, Ma.”

She began cooking, slowly, carefully, making sure every dish was just right, tasting, adjusting, trying again, her focus completely on it.

Hours passed.

The house grew quieter.

The food was ready.

Everything arranged neatly on the table.

Poornima stood there, waiting.

She didn’t sit.

She didn’t leave.

She just… waited.

And she didn’t know why.

Her eyes shifted toward the door again and again.

The clock moved.

8:30…

8:45…

9:00.

The sound of the Bullet finally echoed outside.

Her heart paused for a second.

She didn’t understand it.

But she felt it.

Veeresh walked in, slightly tired, but the moment his eyes fell on her, standing there in that blue saree, something in his expression changed instantly.

He smiled.

A real, warm smile.

Poornima felt it without him saying anything.

“You’re late,” she said softly, almost unconsciously.

He raised his brows slightly, amused. “You were waiting?”

She didn’t answer.

He didn’t push.

“I’ll just change,” he said, walking upstairs.

She watched him go, then looked away quickly, as if she hadn’t been.

A few minutes later, he came down in simple tracks, relaxed, comfortable.

His eyes immediately went to the table.

“All this…” he looked at her, surprised. “My Noor cooked?”

She nodded slightly.

He sat down quickly, almost like a child seeing his favourite meal after a long day.

He tasted one dish… then another… then another.

His expression said everything.

“This is exactly how I like it,” he said, looking at her with genuine happiness.

Poornima stood there, watching him.

“Sit,” he said, pulling a chair beside him.

She sat quietly.

He continued eating, enjoying every bite, occasionally glancing at her with that same smile.

“I missed this,” he said suddenly.

She looked at him. “Missed what?”

“Coming home… and having someone wait.”

The words were simple, but they stayed.

Poornima didn’t reply.

But something inside her softened even more.

She watched him eat, watched his small reactions, the way he enjoyed the food, the way he looked at her.

And without realizing it…

She felt happy.