Raghav exhaled and crossed the room, perching on the edge of the opposite sofa.
His mother smiled. The dangerous one. “We were just talking about the weekend.”
“I have meetings.”
“On Sunday?” she asked, eyebrows lifting. “Raghav, even prime ministers take Sundays off.”
Before he could respond, hurried footsteps thundered in. Vikram burst into the room, hair slightly disheveled, phone still in hand, grin already in place like he’d entered on cue.
“Oh good, you’re home,” he said brightly. “I was worried I’d miss today’s episode ofLet’s Emotionally Corner Raghav.”
“Get out,” Raghav muttered.
Vikram ignored him and dropped onto the arm of the sofa. “So,” he said, clapping his hands once, “are we discussing marriage, or should I warm up with a monologue first?”
Kavita placed a hand on her chest. “See how casually he says it?” she said to Harshit. “Marriage. As if it’s not the most important thing in a mother’s life.”
“Mom—”
“I carried you for nine months,” she continued, undeterred. “Raised you. Fed you. And now I have two sons who treat marriage like a traffic inconvenience.”
Harshit cleared his throat, staring very intently at the television. His shoulders shook slightly. Vikram leaned closer to Raghav.
“For the record,” he whispered loudly, “this is better than anything I shot this year.”
Raghav shot him a look. “You’re enjoying this too much.”
“I’m an actor,” Vikram shrugged. “Drama is my oxygen.”
Harshit finally spoke. “We’ve finalized that family to meet.”
Raghav straightened. “Finalized? And what family?”
“I told you about this three months ago, Raghav. The girl is well-educated,” Harshit continued evenly. “Single child. Good values. Her parents are respectable people. Your mother has already spoken to them.”
“I don’t agree with this.”
“You can’t refuse either,” Kavita said gently. “And you’re not getting any younger.”
“I’m thirty-three, not eighty.”
“Exactly,” Vikram said cheerfully. “Prime age. Still brooding. Very marketable.”
Raghav stood. “I’m not interested.”
Harshit studied him for a long moment, expression unreadable. “We’re not debatingifyou’ll marry,” he said calmly. “Onlywhen. Unless,” he added evenly, “there’s someone else.”
The question hung in the air.
Raghav didn’t answer immediately. For a split second, Ishani’s face crossed his mind—uninvited, unwelcome. He dismissed it just as quickly.
“No,” he said.
Kavita’s shoulders sagged at once, disappointment carefully performed. “So that’s it,” she murmured. “All my friends have daughters-in-law, sharing recipes, festivals… and I’ll just keep explaining why my sons are ‘too busy.’”
“Mom, don’t—” Raghav started.
She waved him off, already recovering. “It’s fine. I’ve waited this long. What’s a few more years?”
