🦚

The morning after the wedding had a different kind of magic in the air.

The chaos of rituals had settled, laughter lingered like the scent of fresh marigold, and the house glowed with an aftertaste of joy. Somewhere near the garden, the women had gathered - still dressed in their wedding finery, sarees a little less stiff now, makeup a little smudged, hearts very much full.

Revati sat in the centre, a vision of quiet joy.

There was something about her - the way her smile didn't quite leave her lips, the soft pink tint that hadn't faded from her cheeks, the glow that seemed to bloom from within. She was still shy, still composed, but undeniably radiant. The kind of glow that didn't come from any highlighter or skincare routine.

It came from happiness. Real, soul-deep happiness.

"You're glowing, Revati," Draupadi said with a teasing smirk, her chin resting on her palm. "Are you going to pretend you don't know why?"

Revati tried - tried - to glare, but ended up biting back a smile. "Draupadi..."

Subhadra leaned forward dramatically. "No no, we want details. The blushing, the stammering, the stolen glances with Balaram-was that all an act, or are you just built that adorably?"

"Subhadra!" Revati squeaked, hiding her face behind her hands.

Rukmini laughed softly, sitting beside her. "Okay okay, stop embarrassing her, she's already half melted. Revati doesn't need to say anything. We'll speak for her."

"She does look like she had a very memorable wedding night," Draupadi added casually.

Revati let out the most panicked little gasp and slapped Rukmini's arm. "Tell them to stop!"

"Oh, I would," Rukmini said, grinning, "but I think Subhadra's on a roll today."

Subhadra leaned back with the proud smirk of a villain mid-monologue. "I am. And I intend to finish my masterpiece."

As they all dissolved into laughter, Revati tried to bury herself in the folds of her dupatta.

But then, all of a sudden, Subhadra's eyes flickered sideways... and froze.

She tilted her head, squinting slightly. "Hold on."

Rukmini blinked. "What?"

"That necklace," Subhadra said, her tone slow and suspicious.

Rukmini instinctively reached for it, fingers curling around the pendant. "What about it?"

"That wasn't there last night," Draupadi added, catching on immediately. "Ohohoho... wait a second."

Revati peeked from behind her dupatta, eyes widening.

"I-it's not that big a deal," Rukmini tried to say casually, which was exactly what one said when it was a big deal.

Subhadra's jaw dropped. "Don't you dare lie to me."

"I'm not lying."

"You're squirming, Rukmini!" Draupadi said, pointing a very dramatic, very judgmental finger. "That's the international sign of 'I'm hiding romantic developments!'"

Revati blinked innocently. "Wait... is it from Krishna?"

Rukmini was already turning red.

"Oh my gods, it is!" Subhadra practically screamed. "And it's not just a necklace. This is one of those meaningful gifts. Emotional. Well-timed. Unspoken feelings tumbling out in jewelry form!"

Rukmini groaned and buried her face in her hands this time. "Can we not do this right now?"

"No, we must do this right now," Subhadra said, positively gleeful. "You thought you'd sneak in with a whole 'secret romantic moment' and not tell us? Rude."

Rukmini, despite herself, was smiling. Blushing. Glowing too - just in a different shade than Revati's. Less of a gentle radiance and more of an oops-I-fell-for-him-hard-and-it-shows kind of glow.

Draupadi leaned closer. "So... was there a confession? A hand-hold? A hug? A kiss? Wait, all of the above?!"

"Draupadi!" Rukmini gasped, scandalised. "Stop reading spicy books!"

"You don't deny it though," Subhadra added slyly.

Rukmini was about to retort when her hand brushed the pendant again - and her breath softened.

Because now the teasing was background noise.

Her mind had already wandered back to that moment. The way Krishna had stood behind her. The warmth of his fingers as he clasped the chain. The way he looked at her like she was the answer to every question he hadn't even asked yet.

Rukmini touched the necklace again, gently.

She didn't say anything.

But her smile?

It said everything.

The days that followed were painted in shades of golden joy.

The wedding had been a dream - laughter wrapped around every pillar, smiles echoing in every corridor, and a happiness so full it could have spilled over and soaked the walls of the mansion forever. Everyone was still floating in that post-wedding bliss. Even the sun seemed to shine softer these days, as if basking in the warmth left behind by all the love.

But on this particular morning, away from the noise, the light, the echoing laughter of family, Rukmini stood alone.

Steam curled lazily around her as warm water kissed her skin, the soft rhythm of droplets echoing in the tiled silence of her bathroom. She let the water slide over her shoulders, fingers brushing her wet curls away from her face.

Yet nothing could rinse away the weight in her chest.

Because her thoughts kept drifting back... to him.

Krishna.

That night.

That moment when he'd looked at her and said, "If someday... I disappear from this world, would you come find me?"

It had sounded like a dream. Like a strange, poetic what-if wrapped in mischief.

But it stuck.

It tugged at her heart in a way nothing else had before - like a string that had been quietly tied there long ago and was now being pulled ever so gently... persistently. And the more she thought about it, the deeper the tug went. Not painful. But unsettling.

She had laughed it off then, brushed his words aside with a nervous giggle and a joke. But now?

Now, alone, naked in thought as well as form, she couldn't run from it.

Her eyes dropped to the side of the sink, where the necklace rested - the one he had gifted her in that quiet, soul-tugging moment. The same necklace she had fallen in love with at that small midnight market. The one he had noticed. Remembered. Bought in secret. And placed around her neck with trembling fingers and eyes that said more than any words ever could.

She picked it up now.

The metal was cool against her wet palm, the pendant delicate and glinting under the soft light. She clutched it tightly, her breath hitching as something in her chest twisted - painfully sweet.

What had he meant?

Was it just a random thing he'd said? Or was it a premonition?

Was he planning something?

She closed her eyes, breathing in the steam, trying to soothe herself. "You're overthinking. It's Krishna. He's dramatic. That's all it was."

But her heart didn't buy the lie.

Rukmini pulled the towel closer around her, sat on the little stool by the mirror, and stared at herself - droplets trailing down her arms, her face flushed not just from heat but from thought. Slowly, her fingers wrapped around the necklace again.

She brought it close, resting the cool pendant on her chest.

A grounding weight.

She wanted to put it back in its case - out of sight, out of heart - maybe that would help her stop spiralling. But every time she reached out to do it, something inside held her back. Her fingers curled around it tighter, as though afraid if she let it go... he'd vanish along with it.

No.

Not yet.

Not until she knew what he was hiding behind that calm smile and steady voice.

Not until she figured out what he was really trying to say that night.

With a deep breath, Rukmini stood up, wiped the mist from the mirror, and met her own eyes - eyes that looked a little too knowing for her liking.

She draped the necklace back around her neck.

Let it rest right above her heart.

If he ever disappears, she thought, I'll find him.

Even if he didn't ask her again.

The house felt quieter than it had in days.

The echoes of celebration - music, clinking glasses, dancing feet - had finally faded into the background. Flower petals were gone, fairy lights were taken down, and the fragrance of rose incense had been replaced by a fresh, quiet stillness. The wedding was over. Revati and Balaram had left for their short retreat. Life had shifted back to normal - or so it seemed.

Rukmini padded down the polished wooden stairs, dressed in a simple pale blue kurti and loose white cotton trousers. Her wet hair was loosely tied back into a lazy braid, strands escaping to frame her face. She hadn't expected much to be going on downstairs - maybe a lazy brunch, some banter in the kitchen.

What she didn't expect was suitcases near the door.

And Krishna - standing in the middle of it all, zipping up his bag like it was just another Tuesday.

Her feet froze mid-step.

"Wait," she said, her voice cutting through the light chatter. "Where are you going?"

All heads turned, but it was Krishna who answered - with that charming, practiced smile she had grown far too used to. But this time, something about it felt... softer. Almost like a distraction.

"Oh, just a business trip," he said, slinging the bag over his shoulder. "It's nothing major. I'll be back in three days."

Rukmini descended the rest of the stairs slowly, her brows knitting together.

"You didn't tell me anything about this."

Krishna raised an eyebrow playfully. "In my defence, someone's been very busy these days - between teasing Revati, stealing desserts, and glowing brighter than the moon."

"Krishna-" she began, not amused this time.

He reached her now, standing just a few steps away. "Honestly, Rukmini. It's not a big deal. Just some internal meetings, client check-ins... boring stuff. I didn't think it was worth bothering you with."

But his eyes lingered on her. And this time, she saw it. That look.

The same unreadable softness from that night. The night he asked, "If someday I disappear from this world..."

The memory made her throat tighten.

She looked at him carefully, searching for anything - a crack, a hesitation, a truth not said aloud.

He looked right back, eyes calm.

Too calm.

She almost reached out - almost - but stopped herself. The thought of calling him back... it echoed with that old warning: A bad omen.

Instead, she swallowed her unease and nodded.

"Three days," she said quietly.

Krishna gave her one last look, something fond and almost wistful in his gaze, before turning and walking out the door.

The sound of the car door closing made her flinch.

Everyone dispersed soon after - Ram went to his study, Subhadra wandered off in search of snacks - and just like that, it was silent again.

Rukmini stood alone in the hallway, her hands fidgeting as she looked at the now-closed door.

He was just going for work.

He was still in the country.

He said he'd be back.

So why did it feel like something was already unraveling?

She exhaled, fingers subconsciously rising to touch the necklace around her neck - the one he'd given her on a night that now felt too important to be casual. The cool metal offered no answers.

But her heart whispered something else.

Something uneasy.

And yet, she brushed it off.

"He'll be back," she whispered. "It's just three days."

Still... she couldn't shake the feeling that those three days might change everything.

The first day felt oddly... incomplete.

Rukmini sat at her desk, her fingers gliding across the keyboard as she tried to focus on the case file in front of her. The words were there. The law, the clauses, the fine print - all things she usually devoured with razor-sharp precision. But today, everything looked slightly blurred. Like her brain was reading but not retaining. Her concentration, usually so sharp, felt like it was flickering in and out.

She leaned back in her chair, letting out a slow breath.

A coffee cup sat untouched beside her, going cold.

She tapped her pen absentmindedly against the paper, staring at the heading on the document: "Breach of Contract - Arbitration Clause."

He'd hate this, she thought, a wry smile tugging at her lips. Krishna always said lawyers use big words just to sound smart.

Her smile faded just as quickly as it came.

He would've teased her today too. Probably barged into her cabin with that lopsided smirk and dropped some sugar-loaded snack on her desk, claiming he "accidentally" ordered too much.

But today her office was quiet.

And Krishna... Krishna wasn't there.

She checked her phone - again. No texts. No calls. Just the last message from the morning where he had sent a simple:
"Take care. I'll be back before you even miss me."
With a wink emoji.

Rukmini scoffed softly. "Too late," she muttered.

She didn't want to overthink. Really, she didn't.
But ever since he left, there had been this constant tug in her chest. Like something inside her was on alert - not panic, not fear exactly - but this unshakable sense that something was... off.

She got up and walked over to the window of her office, staring out at the city skyline.

"He's just away for work," she reminded herself. "It's barely even been twenty-four hours."

Still, her hand lifted almost instinctively to touch the necklace resting on her collarbone. The same necklace he gave her that night - the one she'd secretly wanted and he somehow remembered.

And it made her heart twist all over again.

It wasn't just a gift.

It was a message. A memory. A whisper of something left unsaid.

Rukmini sighed and walked back to her desk, dragging her focus back to the case file. But even as she tried to underline the relevant clause, her pen halted mid-sentence.

"If one day I'm not found in this world... would you look for me?"

His words had sounded like a riddle at the time. Maybe even a joke. But now they echoed in her head like a question she never answered properly.

Would she?

Her hand tightened around the pen.

Of course, she would.

But it shouldn't come to that.

Right?

She pushed the file aside and stared at the screen again - as if somehow, some way, it might light up with a message from him.

Just a simple "Hey, I'm okay."

But it didn't.

And so the first day passed...
With her working as a lawyer.

But thinking - constantly - like a woman in love.
Who knew something wasn't right.

Day Two

If Day One was quiet restlessness, Day Two was absolute chaos.

Rukmini was not herself - and everyone noticed.

She wore two different shoes to work. Not in a trendy, mismatched way. No, she had on one nude heel and one black block sandal. The realisation only struck her mid-morning, during a client meeting, when she bent to pick up her dropped pen and saw her feet... and blinked.

And then blinked again.

"Ma'am," her intern whispered, trying not to laugh, "is this... a statement?"

Rukmini didn't even respond. She just stared at her feet like they had personally betrayed her.

Then there was the spilled coffee incident. And the twice-repeated contract clause. And the fact that she signed off an email to her senior partner with,
"With caramel popcorn and concern - Rukmini."

Caramel. Popcorn.

What even-?

People around the office began exchanging amused glances. Even her usually stone-cold receptionist asked, "Are you okay, ma'am? You seem a little... floaty."

Floaty.

She didn't even know how to defend herself.

Later that afternoon, she met Draupadi for lunch, hoping for a mental reset. But even Draupadi - who could be as aloof as a snow queen - raised her eyebrows at Rukmini's forgetfulness and clumsiness.

"You just tried to drink the salt shaker, Ruhi," she said flatly, her fork suspended mid-air.

"It looked like one of those Himalayan salt juice shots!" Rukmini defended weakly, cheeks burning.

"It was literally shaped like a castle." Draupadi's voice was deadpan. "It had 'DO NOT DRINK' written on it."

Rukmini groaned and dropped her head into her hands.

She missed him.

And now she had proof. Without Krishna around, she was a disaster wrapped in designer fabric.

Day Three

The third day dawned brighter.

Maybe it was because Rukmini had forced herself to sleep properly the night before, or maybe it was because she had decided to act like a rational human being today. But there was something else too - a little flutter in her chest.

He's coming back today.

The thought lit her up from the inside.

She hummed as she got ready, actually applying mascara without stabbing herself. Her outfit - a smart, casual white blouse tucked into soft beige trousers - was perfectly coordinated, and she even packed herself a snack for work (grapes and caramel popcorn, because... balance).

At lunch, she curled up in her office chair with the popcorn, munching happily and flipping through her phone, rereading old texts he'd sent her. That's when Subhadra walked in - unannounced as always - and stopped short at the sight.

Rukmini looked up, mouth full, cheeks slightly puffed.

Subhadra blinked.

"Oh my god," she said, putting a hand on her hip, "he's not even back yet and you're already in your honeymoon phase."

"I'm not!" Rukmini squeaked, immediately choking a little on the caramel. "I'm just hungry!"

"Hungry for love?" Subhadra teased, plopping down on the edge of her desk. "You're literally glowing. Did you exfoliate with ghee or something?"

"Stop it," Rukmini groaned, but she couldn't hide her smile. She felt so... giddy.

"Are you planning a welcome speech when he walks through the door?" Subhadra mocked, batting her eyelashes dramatically. "'My dearest Krishna, I suffered three whole days of unmatched clumsiness, only to see you walk through that threshold again-'"

Rukmini threw a popcorn kernel at her head.

But even as they laughed, she couldn't help the way her heart leapt just thinking of seeing him again. Of that familiar smile. Of the way his eyes lingered on her like she was his favorite sight.

It was the last day.

He was coming back.

Rukmini was just descending the stairs, her earrings swinging lightly as she did, still chewing the last of her caramel popcorn, when she saw Ram at the door.

But something was wrong.

His shoulders were too stiff. His face - usually open and bright - looked like it had been carved from stone. His eyes met Subhadra's first. Then Draupadi's. Then finally-hers.

And in that moment, she knew.

The light in the room didn't dim - but it felt like the world did. A hush fell across the living room like a curtain of smoke. Every footstep stilled. Every breath felt suddenly too loud.

"Where is Krishna?" she asked, her voice too light, too hopeful.

Ram's lips parted, but for a second, no sound came out. And that silence - that hesitation - was more terrifying than any answer.

"There was... there was an incident," he said finally, and his voice cracked on the word. "On the way back. We don't know exactly what happened. The driver's injured. The car was found near the cliff... but..."

Rukmini didn't hear the rest.

It was like her lungs forgot how to breathe.

No.

No, this wasn't happening.

Not after those nights, not after the necklace, not after he asked her if she'd find him if he disappeared. Not after the promise in his eyes. Not when he said, "I'll be back before you miss me."

Her hands found the edge of the stair railing to steady herself, but it was like the ground had pulled itself away.

Subhadra was crying now. Draupadi was already on her phone, calling someone - anyone - ordering search parties, reaching out to contacts. Revati was frozen, wide-eyed and trembling.

But Rukmini...

She just stood there.

Frozen in her stillness, the popcorn forgotten in her hand, her fingers slowly closing over the necklace at her throat like it was the only thing holding her together.

And maybe it was.

Because everything else had just... fallen apart.

🦚