Gupta House – Early Evening
Khushi pushed open the wooden door, the familiar creak echoing through the small living room.
Payal looked up from slicing vegetables.
Buaji was counting ration money on the dining table.
Both froze the moment they saw Khushi's face.
Puffy eyes.
Forced smile.
Shoulders drawn tight.
Payal's knife clattered onto the plate.
"Khushi? Kya hua?"
(What happened?)
Khushi tried to answer—tried to form a simple word—but her throat closed.
Buaji stood up sharply.
"Arre Sanka Devi, tu ro kyun rahi hai? Kaun sataya tujhe?"
(Why are you crying? Who troubled you?)
Khushi shook her head quickly.
"K–kuch nahi, Buaji… bas—"
Payal walked to her and cupped her cheeks gently.
"Tell me."
And the truth slipped out in a trembling whisper.
"I… lost my job."
The reaction was instant.
Payal's hands dropped.
Buaji gasped dramatically, pressing her palm to her forehead.
"Haaye re Nand Kishore! Humari bitiya ki naukri chali gayi? Ab ghar ka kharcha kaise chalega?"
(Oh God! Our girl lost her job? How will we manage expenses?)
Payal pulled Khushi into a tight hug.
"Why didn't you call me? Why were you alone?"
Khushi's fingers clutched the back of Payal's kurta.
"I didn't want to worry you…"
Buaji began pacing.
"Arre humare ghar ki halat dekho! Pehle electricity ka bill, phir rent, ab yeh naya musibat!"
Khushi flinched at every word.
Payal frowned at Buaji.
"Stop it. You're scaring her."
"Scaring?" Buaji scoffed. "Hum toh asliat bata rahe hain!"
Khushi took a shaky breath.
"There's… something else."
Both looked at her.
"I… got a new job."
Payal blinked.
"Already? How? Where?"
Buaji narrowed her eyes.
"Kaun diya naukri? Kisne? Kya kaam hai?"
(Who gave the job? Who? What work?)
Khushi swallowed.
"AR Designs."
The room fell silent.
Payal's mouth parted slightly.
"Khushi… AR Designs? That's huge…"
Buaji squinted suspiciously.
"How did a café girl get a job in such a big company overnight?"
Khushi fiddled with the strap of her bag.
"I… met the owner."
Payal's eyebrows shot up.
"You met WHO?"
Khushi hesitated.
"Arnav… Singh Raizada."
Buaji let out a full dramatic gasp.
"That laad governor billionaire! Humne suna hai woh gussa se bhara rehta hai!"
Khushi pressed her lips together, remembering his gentle voice, the handkerchief, the way he said her name.
"He was… kind."
Buaji snorted.
"Kind? Woh? Are you sure he didn't give the job out of—"
"Buaji!" Payal snapped. "Don't start."
But Buaji wasn't done.
She stepped closer, eyes narrowing like a detective.
"Khushi, tell me clearly. Why did such a bada aadmi offer YOU a job?"
Khushi looked down.
"I don't know."
And that was the truth she could not comfort herself with.
Payal softened her tone.
"Okay… what work will you do?"
"Front office coordination."
Payal nodded slowly.
"That… isn't too hard. But the office environment is different. Very formal."
Buaji muttered, counting invisible disasters.
"Hai re Devi Maiyya… kahin bitiya galti se file gira de toh? Kahin boss gussa ho gaya toh? Kahin—"
"Buaji, please…" Khushi whispered.
"Main try karungi. I have to."
The house grew quiet.
Payal held her sister's hand.
"You're scared?"
Khushi nodded slightly.
"Bahut."
(Very.)
But she didn't tell them the biggest truth:
Her fear wasn't about the job.
It was about him.
About how her heart reacted when he looked at her.
About how easily she had said yes to a man she barely knew.
And about how his words still echoed inside her:
"I won't let anything happen to you."
---
Dinner sat untouched.
Khushi tried to help clear the table, but Buaji waved Payal away and closed the kitchen door behind them with a firm thud.
"Sit," she told Khushi.
Khushi sat.
Buaji lowered herself onto the opposite chair, eyes sharp in the dim light.
"Bitiya," she began slowly, voice low but heavy, "rich men… unki neeyat samajhna mushkil hota hai."
(It's difficult to understand the intentions of rich men.)
Khushi lowered her gaze.
Buaji continued, leaning forward.
"Ek din woh meetha bolenge… next day they won't even remember your name."
"Buaji…" Khushi tried, but the older woman held up a hand.
"Sun."
(Listen.)
"When a man has power, paisa, position… he can do anything. Say anything. Promise anything."
Khushi felt her throat tighten.
"Humne zindagi mein bahut dekha hai," Buaji went on.
"I've seen girls who believed sweet words and ended up crying for years."
Khushi swallowed.
"I'm not foolish."
"I know," Buaji said. "Lekin tu dil ki saaf hai. Aur dil saaf log sabse jaldi fas jaate hain."
(But you have a pure heart. And pure-hearted people fall into traps the quickest.)
That stung—not because it was harsh, but because it was true.
Buaji's voice softened, just slightly.
"You said he was… kind?"
Khushi nodded hesitantly.
"Bitiya," Buaji said, sighing, "rich men can afford to be kind. It costs them nothing."
Khushi looked up, eyes widening a little at the bluntness.
"Tomorrow when you go to that bada office," Buaji continued, "keep your head down. Do your work. Don't smile too much. Don't talk too freely. Aur bilkul bhi unke jaise logon se zyada nazdeeki mat banana."
(And don't get too close to people like him.)
Khushi whispered, "Why do you think he offered me the job?"
Buaji frowned deeply.
"That is what scares me the most."
Khushi froze.
Buaji spoke with certainty that made the room colder.
"No big man does something for a small girl without reason."
Khushi clutched her dupatta.
Payal, who had been silently listening from the door, stepped in.
"Buaji, maybe he just wanted to help. Not everyone has bad intentions."
Buaji shot her a look.
"Accha? Toh kal se tum corporate duniya ki rani ban gayi?"
(Oh? You became queen of the corporate world overnight?)
Payal rolled her eyes but didn't argue again.
Buaji turned back to Khushi.
"Promise me, Sanka Devi," she said quietly.
"Promise me you'll keep distance from rich men… especially this Arnav Singh Raizada."
Khushi hesitated.
Images flashed:
His gentle voice.
The handkerchief.
The way he watched her walk away.
The strange warmth in her chest when he said her name.
"I…" she whispered, unsure of her own voice.
"I'll be careful."
Buaji didn't seem convinced, but she nodded.
"Bas. That's all I ask."
Khushi tried to smile, but Buaji's warning stayed heavy in her mind long after they finished talking.
---
That night, Khushi didn't sleep either.
She lay awake on the thin mattress, staring at the cracked ceiling as the fan hummed above her.
Payal was asleep beside her, breathing softly, unaware of the storm twisting inside her sister.
Khushi turned onto her side, Arnav's card held tightly in her hand.
Her throat tightened.
"Why me?" she whispered into the dark.
"Why would someone like him help someone like me?"
Her heart gave an answer she didn't want to hear.
Because he saw you.
She pressed the card to her chest, eyes stinging again.
"What if this is a mistake…?"
"What if I can't do it…?"
But beneath the fear, something else flickered.
A strange warmth.
A pull she couldn't explain.
she wondered…
Why did he choose her?
And why did her heart skip a beat when she remembered the way he said:
"I won't let anything happen to you."
A quiet comfort that had settled inside her when he offered her the handkerchief… when he said her name… when he promised, I won't let anything happen to you.
She curled into herself, breathing slowly.
Tomorrow would change everything.
---
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