The first week in Bhopal passed in a blur of colours, flavours, and endless laughter. 

Sarthak was officially on vacation mode. He had completely abandoned his laptop, choosing instead to follow Aditi through the lanes of the old city.

They became a familiar sight. Aditi, leading the way with her hands waving around as she explained the history of a site or the best place to buy hand-printed fabrics, and Sarthak, trailing behind her, camera in hand, documenting every second for his social media followers.

They were a match made in heaven, two high-energy souls who could talk for hours about absolutely nothing. They bonded over their shared love for spicy street food and their mutual hatred for waking up early, though Aditi always managed to drag him out by 9:00 AM anyway.

And then, there was Siddharth.

At first, he had joined them out of a sense of duty, a silent protector making sure they didn't get lost or into trouble. But slowly, the duty transformed into a want.

He found himself looking forward to the morning's plan. He would still bring his serious face, but the denial was starting to crumble.

He liked watching her. He liked the way her nose crinkled when she laughed at Sarthak's terrible jokes. He liked how she knew the names of all the street dogs in the neighbourhood and would stop to pet them.

But most of all, he liked the way she affected him. She was like a storm that didn't destroy things, but instead, blew away the dust and cobwebs from his heart.

However, the more he watched her, the more he noticed the glitch in her bubbly persona. It would happen during the quiet moments, when a song played that reminded her of something, or when she saw a father holding his daughter's hand in the park. For a split second, the light in her eyes would dim, replaced by a sadness.

Every time it happened, Siddharth felt a pang in his chest. It felt like someone was plunging something sharp into his heart. He wanted nothing more than to protect that light. He wanted to take whatever was hurting her and lock it away where it could never reach her again.

On the seventh evening, the three of them were at a quiet rooftop cafe overlooking the Upper Lake. The water was a shimmering sheet of silver under the moonlight. Sarthak had spotted a famous kebab stall across the street and had dashed down to get them a pre-dinner snack, leaving Siddharth and Aditi alone at the table.

The silence between them wasn't awkward anymore. It was comfortable, filled with the distant sound of city traffic and the cool evening breeze. Aditi was leaning against the railing, her chin resting on her arms, looking out at the water.

"Siddharth..."

She said softly, her voice barely a whisper.

"Hmm?"

He replied, looking at her.

"Thank you. For coming along this week. I know you're busy and you probably think Sarthak and I are total kids, but... it's been the best week I've had in years."

Siddharth shifted in his chair, his gaze softening.

"I don't think you're kids, Aditi. And honestly? I should be thanking you. Maine itne saalo mein itna nahi ghuma jitna pichle saat dino mein ghum liya."

(I have not explored so much in years that I have done in these 7 days.)

Aditi turned to look at him, a small, sad smile playing on her lips.

"I love your family, Siddharth. Meena Aunty is so... she's so warm. Aur Uncle kitne cool hain. Even Sarthak, he's loud but he cares so much about you."

(Uncle is so cool.)

She paused, turning back to the lake. The sadness was back, and this time, she didn't try to hide it.

"Kabhi kabhi main sochti hoon... kaisa lagta hoga? To wake up in a house where people actually want to talk to you. Where you don't have to pretend to be happy just to keep the peace. Where love isn't a duty or a burden from the past."

(Sometimes I think…how must it feel?)

Siddharth felt that sharp pang again. He wanted to say something, but the words felt too small for the weight of her confession.

"My house is so big, Siddharth."

She continued, her voice trembling slightly.

"But it's so empty. Mere parents... unhe farq hi nahi padta main ghar pe hoon ya nahi. Sometimes I stay at Nani's house for hours just so I don't have to go back to that silence. I wish... I wish my family was even a little bit like yours."

(My parents…they don’t care whether I’m home or not.)

She gave a short, bitter laugh and wiped a stray tear from her eye.

"Sorry. I'm being a drama queen. Main hamesha haste rehti hoon na, toh jab roti hoon toh ajeeb lagta hai."

(I always keep laughing, so when I cry it feels weird.)

"It's not weird, Aditi."

Siddharth said firmly. He did something then that he had never done with anyone outside his immediate family. He reached across the small table and gently placed his hand over hers.

Aditi froze. She looked down at his hand, large, warm, and steady, and then up at his face. Her eyes were wide with surprise. The man who valued personal space more than anything was reaching out.

"Siddharth?"

She whispered. He didn't pull away. He squeezed her hand gently, his thumb brushing against her knuckles.

"Listen to me..."

He said, his voice deep and incredibly gentle.

"You don't have to wish for a family like mine. Because you're already a part of it."

Aditi's breath hitched.

"Maa tumhe apni beti maanti hai. Nani-Nanu toh tumhe mujhse bhi zyada pyaar karte hain."

(Maa considers you her daughter. Nani-Nanu love you more than me.)

He said with a tiny, genuine smile.

"Aur rahi baat meri aur Sarthak ki... we're not going anywhere. Tum akeli nahi ho, Aditi. Not anymore."

(And about me and Sarthak…we’re not going anywhere. You’re not alone, Aditi.)

"Sachi?"

(Really?)

She asked, her voice cracking.

"Sachi."

(Really.)

He whispered back.

"Hum sab hamesha tumhare saath hain. You've become one of us."

(We are always with you.)

Aditi didn't know what to say. For years, she had built a wall of bubbly energy to hide the hole in her heart, but in just a few sentences, Siddharth had started to fill it. She felt like she belonged somewhere.

She turned her hand over, interlacing her fingers with his. She didn't pull back, and neither did he. For a long minute, they just sat there, connected by more than just a handshake.

The silence was broken by the sound of Sarthak's loud whistling as he climbed the stairs, balancing three plates of kebabs.

"Guys! Best kebabs in Bhopal! Look at this beauty!"

Sarthak shouted, oblivious to the moment he was interrupting. Siddharth slowly withdrew his hand, but he kept his eyes on Aditi. 

Aditi picked up a fork, her heart racing. She took a bite of the kebab, but she couldn't even taste it. All she could feel was the lingering warmth of Siddharth's hand and the echo of his words in her mind.

'One of us.' 

She thought.

Later that night, as she lay in her own quiet room, the silence didn't feel quite so heavy. 

And across the street, Siddharth sat on his balcony, staring at the same moon. He was thinking about the way Aditi's hand had felt in his, small, trembling, and perfectly fitting. He realized that he never wanted to see her fake a smile again.

He finally let out a long breath, a genuine, wholehearted smile breaking across his face in the dark. Aditi had won her mission, even if she wasn't there to see it yet.