Roohi’s POV

The warmth of home wrapped around me as we stepped inside. It had been just a few days, but it felt like an eternity since I was here.I was out of city due to my work. I came today after a week and we decided to spend this weekend in dadi's house along with aryan and meera.

Vivaan was beside me, carrying a few of my bags, his eyes scanning the familiar surroundings.

Before I could say anything, a voice rang out.

“So, the great artist finally decided to show up?” Meera stood with her arms crossed, a teasing smirk playing on her lips.

Vivaan rolled his eyes. “Meera, please don’t start.”

“Oh, come on! We all know you missed Roohi like crazy. What was that line you told Dadi yesterday? ‘The house feels empty without her’?” Meera teased, nudging Aryan.

Aryan, who had just walked in, joined in. “Oh yes, I heard that too! Meera, I think he even sighed dramatically while saying it.”

I bit my lip, trying to suppress a laugh. Vivaan shot them both a glare but didn’t deny it. Instead, he mumbled under his breath, “Remind me why I wanted siblings again?”

“Because we make your life interesting,” Meera quipped.

Aryan chuckled, throwing an arm around Vivaan. “Admit it, Bhai, you love us.”

Vivaan sighed, shaking his head with a small smile. “Yeah, yeah… whatever helps you sleep at night.”

I couldn’t stop smiling. Seeing this side of Vivaan—teasing, relaxed, and letting himself be a brother—made my heart warm.

Meera turned to me. “Bhabhi, I hope you know that your husband is secretly the softest person alive.”

I smirked. “Oh, I know.”

Vivaan groaned. “Great. Now I have no escape.”

Laughter filled the air as we settled into the house. The teasing, the warmth, the feeling of family - it was everything I had always dreamed of. And now, it was mine.

“Let’s all cook together today!” Meera suggested cheerfully, clapping her hands as she looked at all of us.

I smiled at her enthusiasm. “That sounds like a great idea!”

Nirmala Dadi nodded approvingly. “It’s been a while since we all cooked as a family. Let’s make something special.”

Vivaan, who was leaning against the kitchen doorway, raised a brow. “I hope this means I get to chop vegetables and not just stand around,” he teased, his deep voice holding amusement.

Meera rolled her eyes. “Bhai, you’re going to do as I say. No arguments.”

He let out a small chuckle but didn’t argue further.

We quickly divided the tasks - Meera and I started with marinating the chicken for the biryani, Dadi took charge of the spices, and Vivaan, as instructed, began chopping onions.

The kitchen filled with the rich aroma of marinated chicken, the sizzle of prawns frying in ghee, and the comforting scent of basmati rice cooking to perfection. The atmosphere was warm, filled with the clatter of utensils and soft laughter.

Vivaan nudged me with his elbow as I stirred the biryani pot. “I never imagined you’d be so serious about cooking.”

I smirked. “I have many hidden talents, Mr. Chaturvedi.”

Meera grinned. “Oh, Bhai, you should have seen her rolling chapatis last week. Perfectly round!”

“Is that so?” Vivaan mused, glancing at me.

I felt warmth creep up my neck at his words.

Just as I was about to reply, a strong wave of nausea hit me. The smell of ghee suddenly felt overpowering, and before I could control it, I felt my stomach churn violently.

I barely managed to whisper, “Excuse me,” before I rushed to the washroom, barely making it in time to empty my stomach.

My body shook as I leaned against the sink, my breaths coming in ragged gasps. I felt a warm hand rub my back in soothing circles.

“Roohi,” Vivaan’s voice was laced with panic. “Are you okay? What happened? Are you not well?”

I tried to answer, but my head felt light, and before I could form the words, everything turned black.

The last thing I felt was Vivaan’s strong arms catching me before I hit the ground.

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