"Maa is expecting five-star quality, Siya. If I'm not here to taste-test, how will you survive? Waise, iss apron mai kaafi cute lag rhi ho. It says 'Chief Chef,' but your face says 'Please don't let the halwa burn.'"

(By the way, you look cute in this apron.”

Siya tried to hide her smile, turning back to the stove to stir the roasting semolina. Raghav looked at her, feeling triumphant on seeing her smile.

"Halwa sahi banega agar aap mujhe distract nhi krenge toh. Why don't you do something useful and chop the almonds?"

(The pudding will be good if you stop distracting me.)

Raghav picked up a knife with a dramatic move, but instead of chopping, he used it to point at her.

"Chop? Me? An Oberoi prince? The price for this manual labour is going to be very high, Mrs. Oberoi."

"Aap sirf baatein karenge ya kaam bhi karenge?"

(Will you only talk or do some work also?)

"Fine, fine."

As Raghav actually started chopping (surprisingly well), he kept leaning in close to check her progress, his shoulder brushing against hers every few seconds.

"Waise, if the halwa is good, I'll say meri mehnat thi. If it's bad, I'll say Ishaan helped you."

(By the way, if the halwa is good, I’ll say that it was my hardwork.)

"Kitne jhoote hain aap! And move aside, I need the cardamom powder."

(Such a liar you are!)

Raghav reached for the jar at the same time she did. Their hands met, and for a second, the bickering stopped. He looked at her, his playful smirk turning into a gentle gaze.

"You're doing great, Siya. Relax. They already love you. Even if you served them burnt toast, they'd call it gourmet."

Siya softened, her tension finally melting away. His thumb movd against her knuckles and she tried to ignore the way her heart fluttered at his gesture.

"Really? Even papa?"

"Papa? Wo toh tumhare sabse bade fan hai. He told me this morning that I finally did something smart by marrying you."

(He is your biggest fan.)

Before she could respond, Raghav dipped his finger into a bowl of flour and swiped a white streak across her nose.

"Lekin thoda makeup kam lag raha tha. Ab perfect hai."

(Makeup looked a little less. Now it’s perfect.)

Siya gasped, looking at her reflection in a steel plate.

"Raghav!"

She immediately grabbed a handful of flour and chased him around the kitchen.

"Rukiye! Abhi batati hoon main aapko!"

(Wait! Let me catch you now!)

"Arre, bhago! Meri biwi mujhe maar rhi hai! Bachao!"

(Arre, run! My wife is hitting me! Help!)

Just as she cornered him near the fridge, his mother walked in, stopping dead in her tracks at the sight of her daughter-in-law chasing her son with a fistful of flour.

"Yeh kya ho raha hai yahan?"

(What is happening here?)

Raghav immediately pointed at Siya, hiding behind his mother.

"Maa, dekho! She's attacking your favorite son! Maine toh bas help karne ki koshish ki thi."

(Maa, look!....I was just trying to help.)

Siya stood there, frozen with a flour-covered hand, her face turning bright red.

"Maa, woh... he started it!"

His mother laughed, shaking her head as she looked at the two pointing towards each other like little kids.

"I know exactly who started it. Raghav, bahar jao aur table set karo. Aur Siya, bacha, don't worry. The halwa smells amazing."

(Raghav, go outside and set the table.)

As Raghav was being shoved out of the kitchen, he turned back to blow a kiss and winked.

"Don't forget the almonds I chopped, Chef! My hard work better get a mention in the credits!"

Siya wiped her nose with her sleeve, laughing to herself. Things with him felt easy. 

It was a normal Sunday evening at the Oberoi house. It had been about two months since their wedding and Raghav and Siya were sitting on the terrace, sharing a plate of fruit.

Below them, in the garden, Ishaan and Riya were sitting on the grass, supposedly discussing her college project.

Riya had to stay the night at Oberoi mansion because of her exam nearby the next morning.

Raghav leaned over the railing, his eyes narrowing as he watched Ishaan gesture animatedly while Riya giggled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Siya, look at that! Maine Ishu kabhi aise haste huye nhi dekha. Kuch toh gadbad hai, boss."

(I have never seen Ishu laugh like that. Something is fishy here, boss.)

Siya joined him at the railing, a soft smile touching her lips as she watched her sister's shy expression.

"Gadbad nahi, Raghav. It looks sweet. Riya generally kisi ko itna dhyan se nhi sunti. Especially not someone explaining Corporate Law."

(Not fishy, Raghav….Riya doesn’t listen to anyone so carefully.)

"Law? He's talking about Law right now? Is ladke ka kuch nahi ho sakta. Someone needs to teach him how to flirt, and fast. Mission Ishaan-Riya starts now."

(Nothing can happen of this boy.)

"Raghav, please. Unhe apne aap baat karne do. Don't go in there like a hurricane and ruin it."

(Let them talk on their own.)

"Hurricane nahi, Siya. Think of me as a... gentle breeze. Hum bas ek chota sa dhakka denge."

(Not hurricane….We will give only a slight push.)

Back in their room, the gentle breeze was already pacing around like a chaotic storm.

"Theek hai, so the plan is simple. We take them to that new rooftop place. I'll ask the waiter to play some romantic songs, maybe get some candles, and then we 'accidentally' have to leave early. Classic move."

(Ok, so the plan is simple.)

Siya sat on the bed, slowly removing her jewellery. She gave him a look of pure disbelief.

"Accidentally leave? Raghav, aapke chehre par 'I am lying' likha hota hai. Ishaan will catch you in two seconds. It's too much drama."

(Raghav, your face screams ‘I am lying’.)

"Drama is what makes life interesting, Siya! Logo ko ek mahual chahiye hota hai. Tumhara idea kya hai? Take them to a library and hope they touch hands while reaching for a dictionary?"

(People need environment. What is your idea?)

"Nahi. We should just have a normal dinner. No violins, no fake phone calls. Just let them feel comfortable. Jab tak woh comfortable nahi honge, baat aage nahi badhegi."

(No….Unless they are comfortable, nothing will move ahead.)

"Safe is boring, Mrs. Oberoi. Hum thoda shor machayenge tabhi toh baat banegi. Agar end of the night tak unhone haath pakda, toh tum pura hafta mere liye subah ki chai banaogi."

(Things will move ahead if we make some noise. If they hold hands by the end of the night, you will make tea for me each morning for a week.)

"Aur agar aapke shor ki wajah se woh awkward ho gaye, toh pura Sunday aap bilkul chup rahoge. Ek shabd bhi nahi bologe."

(And if they get awkward because of your noise, you will keep quiet the entire Sunday. You will not utter even one word.)

"Deal! Waise bhi, silent hero wala look mujh par suit karta hai."

(Anyway, silent hero look suits me.)

He said, trying to convince himself.

The restaurant was beautiful, but the tension at the table was thick enough to cut with a knife. Raghav was trying his best to be subtle, which, for him, meant being incredibly obvious.

"So! Ishu... Riya... aaj chaand kuch jyada hi sundar hai na? Bilkul filmy mausam hai, haina?"

(Ishu…Riya…the moon is too beautiful today, right? It’s so filmy, right?)

Ishaan looked at the clear, dry sky and then at his brother.

"Bhai, it's 35 degrees. Hum sab ko pasina aa raha hai. Isme filmy kya hai?"

(We are sweating. What is filmy in this?)

Siya stepped on Raghav's foot under the table. Hard.

"What your brother means is that it's nice to be out together. Riya, teri internship kaisi chal rhi hai? You were saying the boss is quite strict?"

(Riya, how is your internship going?)

As Riya started to answer, Raghav leaned in, his voice a whisper that everyone could hear.