Married My Enemy (#1 Rajput)

26- Too Many Plans

Just finished the first chapter of Rahul and Siya's story. After thinking a lot about both the characters I've decided to call the story, Key To Their Hearts.

How is it? (The title?)

Typed On - 22/11/2018 - Finished Typing On - 23/11/2018

Chapter 26- Too Many Plans

Reaching home Jaanvi scans the whole house with her intrigued eyes catching no sight of the human being so wants to see. Kiaan. She's on her way to her bedroom—upstairs—when her mother-in-law's sweet and peaceful voice calls out to her from the kitchen. She follows the voice and heads into the kitchen.

"Jaanvi, your back." Her voice is as uncertain as her face. She thought I won't come back? "Come help me." Roshini breaks her chain of thoughts. Jaanvi's eyes gaze at the vegetables lined up in the kitchen counter.

"These are a lot of—"

Roshini giggles, nodding her head in agreement. "We used to stock food for one whole week in New York. Dhruv brought a lot of groceries before the wedding so we're not short on anything."

Jaanvi's amused. With the revolution—life-changing truth—of stocking one week's food, therefore, no reason to head outside each week for shampoo or soap or potato. And because Roshini's voice is so friendly and pleasant to hear. Listening to her speak is as if the worlds such a calm and soothing place. Like she's never been troubled in her life—or maybe she grew from it—but her voice—the way she talks and carries herself—is so informative and easy to understand and learn from.

Is she really his mother? He's exactly like his mother if Jaanvi opens her eyes properly. "Didn't you miss India?" Her voice is precise, praying it doesn't come out rude because she didn't address Roshini as 'ma' or 'mom' like Kiaan does. She's not there yet. The Ma /mummy word is still new and has to be earned.

Even though her mother isn't alive—never was in her life—Jaanvi believes only she deserves to be called her mother. Her mummy. Her birth-giver. Nobody can take her spot, whether the persons as generous as one can be.

"Sh—should I chop these?" She questions pointing at the vegetables as if to cover her mistake of not giving her the respectful title of mother. After receiving a nod; Jaanvi hooks her saree's pallu inside the pleats in the middle, ties her hair in a messy bun, rushes to wash her hands properly and shortly after wipes them dry.

Her palm curled around the knife as she begins chopping them, Roshini speaks, "The only thing a person misses if their family. And I had mine with me." Jaanvi's pace slows. The sharp knife touching the clean surface of the chopping board as she glances up at her mother-in-law.

When Kiaan's birth-giver looks up to hold her daughter-in-law's eye contact she looks away. As if afraid of something, "Still," she whispers. Unsure why she's asking. "You must have missed someon—"

"Jaanvi, I wasn't born in the time you were. My teenage life and yours is completely different, beta." Jaanvi discards the round potato in the glass bowl her mother-in-law held. She picks another set of vegetables instructed by the elder lady. "I wasn't offered the life, the freedom and the equality you have been. I moved there when Kiaan was eighteen—"

Unintentionally Jaanvi corrects her softly, eyes on the chopping board as she continues chopping the vegetable. "Seventeen. He moved around—I think—four months before his eighteen birthday."

Roshini's beaming, Her smile's wider than anticipated. "Oh yes. I forgot." The tone is playfully causing Jaanvi to stop and comprehend what she's just done. She bores her head down to hide her red cheeks and smiles—the kind of smile we give when we say 'oops'—closing her eyes. "It's okay. I won't tell him." She touches her shoulder.