"It's perfect," she whispered. "Just perfect."
Vikram's expression softened into satisfaction. A smile. Real. Private.
Before the moment could stretch further, Farhan's loud laugh shattered the bubble.
"Unbelievable!" He approached with theatrical exaggeration. "Vikram Khanna, highest-paid actor in Bollywood, making chai during production hours. And that too for his wife." He grabbed Vikram's arm, physically pulling him away. "Do you know how much your time costs? How much this delay is costing production?"
The teasing was obvious, but Farhan played it with enough drama to make the crew chuckle.
"Send me the bill," Vikram replied calmly. "I'll pay it."
"Oh, you'll pay." Farhan steered him toward the main set. "Unless you want to make chai for everyone now? Turn this into craft services duty?"
The suggestion hung in the air. Several crew members perked up, clearly hoping Vikram might actually agree.
Vikram stopped walking. Turned to face Farhan directly. His expression shifted. Warmth disappearing, replaced by something colder. Territorial.
"No."
The single word carried absolute finality.
"Come on," Farhan wheedled. "Just once,"
"This chai is for my wife." Vikram's voice dropped lower, temperature falling. "The rest of you have craft services. I'm not running a charity."
The declaration landed like a physical barrier. Clear. Possessive. Drawing a line no one would dare cross.
Farhan's grin widened, satisfied. He'd gotten exactly the reaction he wanted. The public moment of possessiveness that made everything impossible to misunderstand.
"Fair enough," he said, backing away with hands raised. "Your wife. Your chai. Got it."
At her workspace, Divya sat frozen. The cup burned warm against her palms. Around her, the set resumed its rhythm, but she remained trapped in stillness.
He'd made this. Vikram Khanna had learned to make chai. Her chai.
Her brain kept trying to process it. He'd learned this morning, he'd said. Which meant he'd gotten up before dawn. Found Raju somehow. Stood at that tapri and learned from scratch. Then came here. Made it fresh.
For her.
She raised the cup again, needing to confirm. The liquid touched her tongue. Ginger. Cardamom. Tea. Just right.
Her hands trembled. The smile wouldn't leave her face.
From across the set, Vikram watched her between scenes with Farhan. Noticed she hadn't set the cup down. Noticed the way her fingers traced its rim absently. Noticed the small smile that kept appearing.
Worth it. Every second of learning. Every failed attempt.
Completely worth it.
The morning filming proceeded. But the atmosphere had irrevocably shifted. The professional distance had dissolved.
Now there was just Vikram Khanna and his wife. And Divya sat at her workspace, holding an empty cup long after the chai had finished, feeling the ghost of its warmth against her palms.
The foundation of their relationship had shifted. Just enough that everything built upon it would now sit at a different angle.
This wasn't temporary anymore.
Chapter 28
