_Penola.s. //
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Anaya stood outside her bedroom door, her hand resting on the knob as she hesitated to enter. The mansion was quiet, almost unnervingly so, as if the very walls held their breath, waiting for something to happen. She knew Rudra was likely still in his office, immersed in work, as he often was. Their earlier conversation, if it could even be called that, echoed in her mind—cold, distant, and purely transactional. Despite his agreement to help her with the internship, Anaya couldn't shake the hollow feeling in her chest.
Pushing the door open, she stepped into the room. The cool air wrapped around her, and her eyes instinctively went to Rudra's desk and the small work area in the corner of the bedroom. It was a well-organized space, filled with books, papers, and files—Rudra's world of control and precision. She had never ventured into that corner before, not wanting to intrude on what seemed like his private sanctuary. But tonight, something pulled her toward it.
Almost without thinking, Anaya crossed the room, her fingers trailing along the edge of Rudra's desk. She wasn't sure what she was looking for—answers, perhaps, or maybe just a glimpse into the mind of the man she barely knew, despite being married to him. The polished wood was cool under her touch, and the faint scent of cologne lingered in the air, a subtle reminder of Rudra's presence.
Her eyes scanned the shelves above the desk, filled with books ranging from business management to psychology and philosophy. She bit her lip, unsure if she should reach for one, but her curiosity got the better of her. She stretched up, her fingers brushing against the spines of the neatly arranged books.
As she stood there, a piece of a memory flickered in her mind—unwanted but persistent. It was that day, the day she had been hurt by a stranger in Rudra's office. The details were still blurry, but the pain and confusion she had felt were crystal clear. And later that night, when Rudra had come to her, his words still echoed in her head:
"You don't know that when I say I'm not in danger."
The memory of his voice was sharp, almost as if he had said it moments ago. Anaya remembered the way he had looked at her, his dark eyes filled with something she couldn't quite place. He had said those words as if they held deeper meaning, as if he had been trying to tell her something important.
"I'm trying to protect you."
Those words had sent her mind spinning. Protect her? From what? Or who? They barely knew each other. Even though she had pressed for an answer, Rudra had dismissed it, simply saying he was just her little sister's friend, as if that explained everything.
"Argh..." Anaya muttered under her breath, her frustration bubbling to the surface. "This question is stabbing at me."
She shook her head, her hand still hovering over the books. What had Rudra meant by those words? Why had he felt the need to protect her, and from what? Anaya felt like she was standing on the edge of some great revelation, but the truth remained just out of reach, hidden behind the walls Rudra had so carefully constructed around himself.
As her mind raced with unanswered questions, her fingers brushed against something on the top shelf—a book with a small note stuck to the cover. Curious, Anaya pulled it down and examined it. The note was written in neat, precise handwriting, but she didn't recognize the style. It wasn't Rudra's; she had seen enough of his handwriting in the few notes he had left her to know that.
Her curiosity piqued, Anaya opened the book, flipping through the pages. It seemed like an old journal, filled with personal thoughts and reflections. But as she scanned the contents, she realized that the entries weren't about Rudra—they were about someone else. Someone close to him, perhaps a family member or a friend. The words spoke of loyalty, duty, and... pain.
Before she could read further, a knock on the door startled her. Anaya's heart leapt into her throat as she quickly closed the book and slid it back onto the shelf. She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself, and walked over to the door.
When she opened it, one of the house staff stood there, a polite but serious expression on their face. "Ma'am, Mrs. Singhaniya is calling for you in the kitchen."
Anaya blinked, momentarily caught off guard. "Oh, alright. I'll be right there."
The staff member nodded and left, and Anaya closed the door behind them, her thoughts still swirling. She cast one last glance at Rudra's desk, her mind still fixated on the questions that plagued her. Why did he say those things? Why did he feel like he had to protect her?
Shaking her head, Anaya pushed the thoughts aside for now. She would have to deal with them later—right now, she had to face whatever it was Mrs. Singhaniya needed from her. But as she walked toward the door, a new resolve settled in her chest.
"I will find out what you're hiding, Rudra. One way or another, I'll get my answers."
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As Anaya made her way down the grand staircase toward the kitchen, she couldn't help but feel a strange sense of anticipation. The mansion was quiet, with only the soft hum of activity from the kitchen reaching her ears. She had spent the last few weeks adjusting to life here, navigating the complex dynamics of the Singhaniya family, but there was always a part of her that felt like an outsider, looking in on a world she didn't quite belong to.
When she entered the kitchen, she found Mrs. Singhaniya, Rakhi, standing by the counter, busy overseeing the preparations for the next meal. Her mother-in-law looked up as Anaya entered, a warm smile spreading across her face.
"Ah, there you are, Anaya," Rakhi said, her tone light but affectionate. "I was wondering if you could help me with something."
Anaya nodded, stepping forward. "Of course, Mumma. What do you need?"
The word 'Mumma' came out naturally now, ever since that emotional moment they had shared a few days ago. Rakhi had insisted Anaya call her that, saying it made her feel closer to her. It had taken a while for Anaya to adjust, but now it felt right. For the first time in a long while, she had someone she could look to as a mother figure.
Rakhi handed Anaya a tray of spices and smiled gently. "I was just about to start preparing some of Rudra's favorite dishes for tomorrow. Would you mind helping me sort through these spices? I'd love to hear what you think."
Anaya's heart warmed at the request, though there was still a lingering heaviness from her earlier thoughts about Rudra. She smiled softly and began helping her mother-in-law, organizing the spices and offering suggestions where she could. It felt good to be doing something normal, something that didn't involve overthinking her complicated marriage.
As they worked side by side, Rakhi glanced at Anaya and said, "You've been quiet these past few days, Anaya. Is everything alright?"
The question caught Anaya off guard. She hadn't realized how much she had been internalizing her emotions lately, how much she had been struggling to understand her relationship with Rudra without confiding in anyone.
"I'm fine, Mumma," Anaya said quickly, not wanting to burden her mother-in-law with her problems. "I've just been... thinking a lot."
Rakhi gave her a knowing look, one that spoke of years of wisdom and experience. "I know that look," she said, smiling gently. "You're trying to figure Rudra out, aren't you?"
Anaya's eyes widened slightly in surprise, but she nodded, not knowing what else to say.
Rakhi chuckled softly, shaking her head. "Don't worry, dear. You're not the first person to find Rudra hard to read. He's always been that way, ever since he was a child. But trust me, there's more to him than what you see on the surface."
Anaya bit her lip, hesitating before she spoke. "But... how do I get through to him? It feels like he's always keeping me at arm's length, like he doesn't want me to know what's really going on inside his head."
Rakhi sighed, her expression softening. "Rudra has always been a private person, and I think part of that comes from the weight of responsibility he's carried for so long. But don't be discouraged, Anaya. The fact that you're even asking these questions means you care about him. And that's a good thing."
Anaya nodded, though her heart still felt heavy with uncertainty. "It's just... hard sometimes. I don't know why he married me, and he doesn't talk about it. It's like there's this huge wall between us, and I don't know how to break it down."
Rakhi reached out and gently placed a hand on Anaya's shoulder. "Give it time. Marriage isn't always easy, especially when you're dealing with someone like Rudra. But I've seen the way he looks at you, even if he doesn't say much. He cares about you, Anaya. More than you know."
Anaya felt a lump form in her throat, but she forced herself to smile, grateful for Rakhi's reassurance. "Thank you, Mumma. That means a lot." __ Rakhi smiled warmly, giving Anaya's.
Anaya stood beside the kitchen counter, her hands busy sorting the spices Rakhi had asked her to help with. Though she was focused on the task, her mind was still replaying the conversation she'd had earlier with Ria and Misha about Rudra. The complexity of her relationship with her husband weighed heavily on her heart, but now, in the comfort of the kitchen, working alongside her mother-in-law, things felt a little lighter.
Rakhi was watching Anaya closely, sensing the younger woman's inner turmoil. She gave her a kind smile and then said, "Anaya, since today is a special day, I think it's time for your first rasoi ki rasm—the kitchen sweet ritual. You'll make something sweet for the family, and it will be a way of sharing your love and warmth through food."
Anaya blinked in surprise, her nerves immediately spiking. "My first kitchen sweet ritual?" she repeated. "I've never done anything like that before... I mean, not officially."
Rakhi chuckled softly. "It's a tradition, dear. Don't worry; it's not about perfection. It's about the sentiment behind it. You can make whatever you like." She leaned in closer and added with a teasing twinkle in her eye, "Or, perhaps something special for my son?"
Anaya's heart skipped a beat at the mention of Rudra, her cheeks flushing slightly. "Mumma," she stammered, looking down at the counter, "I... I don't know what he likes."
Rakhi gave her an amused look, clearly enjoying Anaya's shy reaction. "Oh, my son? Which one? I have two sons, you know!" she teased, her laughter filling the kitchen.
Anaya blushed even deeper, realizing Rakhi was trying to get her to say Rudra's name. She felt a wave of embarrassment wash over her as she hesitated, but Rakhi's playful tone made her feel more at ease.
"R-Rudra," Anaya finally managed to say, her voice soft and uncertain.
Rakhi laughed gently and patted Anaya on the shoulder. "Ah, now that's better! You'll get used to saying his name with confidence soon enough, my dear." She smiled warmly before continuing. "Now, as for Rudra's favorite sweets, he loves rasmalai and kheer—especially with lots of dry fruits. He's always had a sweet tooth, despite his serious exterior."
Anaya's eyes brightened slightly at the mention of Rudra's favorites. She hadn't known this about him, and it felt like a small window into the man behind the cold mask he wore. It wasn't much, but it was something.
"Okay, I'll make kheer," Anaya said, her voice gaining a little more confidence. "I hope he likes it."
"I'm sure he will," Rakhi assured her, smiling with encouragement. "It's a simple dish, but if made with love, it becomes something special."
With that, Anaya began collecting the ingredients for the kheer—milk, rice, sugar, and the array of dry fruits Rudra liked so much. As she worked, Rakhi stayed by her side, helping where needed but also allowing Anaya to take the lead. The kitchen was filled with the sound of their soft chatter, the atmosphere warm and relaxed.
"So, Anaya," Rakhi said after a while, her tone casual, "how are things going with Rudra? Are you two settling in well?"
Anaya paused for a moment, her hand resting on the bowl of sugar she was measuring. The question was simple enough, but it brought back the complexity of her relationship with Rudra. She didn't want to worry Rakhi, and she certainly didn't want to seem like she was complaining.
"We're... figuring things out," Anaya replied carefully, stirring the rice into the pot of simmering milk. "He's... a little hard to understand sometimes."
Rakhi nodded knowingly, her expression soft. "Yes, he is. Rudra has always been like that—quiet, focused, and not one to share his feelings easily. But don't let that discourage you. He's a good man, and in time, he'll open up more. You just need to be patient with him."
Anaya nodded, appreciating Rakhi's reassurance, but a part of her still felt uncertain. Rudra was such a mystery to her, and despite their marriage, she felt as if they were worlds apart. Would he ever truly open up to her? Or was she destined to always feel like an outsider in his life?
"Thank you, Mumma," Anaya said softly, her voice filled with gratitude. "I'll try."
Rakhi smiled warmly and patted her hand. "You're doing great, Anaya. And remember, you're not alone in this. We're all here to support you."
As they continued cooking, the soft aroma of the kheer filled the kitchen, and Anaya began to feel a little more at ease. The act of making something for Rudra, even if it was just a simple dessert, gave her a sense of purpose—a small way to connect with him, even if it was through food.
Just as they were finishing up, the door to the kitchen opened, and Aarav walked in, still in his work clothes. He looked slightly tired but maintained his usual calm and composed demeanor. He greeted his mother with a nod and a brief smile.
"Mom," Aarav said, his voice casual as he made his way toward the coffee machine, "I'm home. Long day at work."
Rakhi turned to her younger son with a warm smile. "Welcome back, Aarav. I was just about to get you some coffee."
Aarav glanced at Anaya briefly but made no acknowledgment of her presence, as if she were invisible. It was a cold, deliberate act, one that Anaya felt immediately, though she tried not to show it. She bit her lip, turning back to the stove to finish stirring the kheer.
Rakhi, however, noticed the way Aarav had ignored Anaya, and though she didn't say anything, her eyes narrowed slightly in disapproval. Still, she chose not to address it directly.
"Aarav, why don't you let Anaya make your coffee today?" Rakhi suggested, her voice casual but with an underlying firmness. "She's been helping me in the kitchen."
Aarav hesitated for a moment, clearly not thrilled with the idea, but he didn't argue. "Alright," he said with a shrug. "As long as it's strong."
Anaya glanced over at Rakhi, who gave her an encouraging nod. She quickly prepared Aarav's coffee, making sure it was just the way he liked it—strong and black, with no sugar. She handed him the cup, her movements careful and precise.
Aarav took the cup without a word, sipping it as he leaned against the counter. After a few moments, he gave a small nod of approval, though he didn't say anything directly to Anaya.
"Good coffee," he muttered under his breath, more to himself than to anyone else. Then, without another word, he turned and headed toward the door, clearly intending to retreat to his room.
Rakhi watched him go, a slight frown tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Aarav," she called after him, her tone gentle but firm, "don't you have something to say to Anaya?"
Aarav paused in the doorway, his back still turned to them. He seemed to consider his mother's words for a moment before finally speaking, though his tone was indifferent.
"Thanks for the coffee," he said, his voice flat and unemotional.
And with that, he left, heading upstairs without another word.
Anaya sighed softly, her shoulders slumping slightly. The encounter had left her feeling even more like an outsider in the family. While Rakhi was kind and supportive, Aarav's coldness was a reminder that not everyone in the Singhaniya household had accepted her presence.
Rakhi, sensing Anaya's unease, placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Don't let him get to you, dear. Aarav can be... difficult, but he'll come around eventually."
Anaya forced a small smile, though her heart felt heavy. "I hope so."
Rakhi gave her a reassuring squeeze. "He will. Just give him time."
With the kheer finally ready, Anaya carefully poured it into a serving bowl, garnishing it with chopped almonds and pistachios, just as Rakhi had shown her. The golden color of the dessert shimmered under the kitchen lights, and Anaya couldn't help but feel a sense of pride.
"That looks perfect," Rakhi said with a smile. "Rudra's going to love it."
Anaya's heart fluttered at the thought of Rudra tasting the kheer. Would he like it? Would it be enough to break through the wall between them, even just a little? She wasn't sure, but she hoped that, at the very least, it would show him that she cared—that she was trying.
"Let's take this to the dining room," Rakhi suggested, lifting the tray. "It's almost time for dinner."
As they left the kitchen, Anaya couldn't shake the feeling that, despite the challenges she faced, she was beginning to carve out a place for herself in this family. It wasn't perfect, and it wasn't easy, but it was a start. And for now, that was enough.
##To be continue...**