Jai Mata Di ! Radhe Radhe !

Hello, my dear moodies. It's the last free chapter I'm giving; from the next chapter, I'll have to set a certain price because it's really hard for me. Hope u understand. ENJOYYY!!!

We entered through the mall's big glass doors.

We don't usually come here.

But today felt different.

Today, we were allowed to spend a little on ourselves.

The cool air-conditioning hit first.

Then—

The smell of coffee.

Rich. Warm. Familiar.

I stopped dramatically. As always.

They both turned toward me with identical horrified expressions.

(A/N: I imagine it every time I read it )

"What now?" Reyaan asked cautiously.

I blinked at them with my best puppy eyes.

"Coffee?" I said in that childish voice — the one I only ever used with them.

They looked at each other.

Defeated.

Because they both knew one thing —

My coffee addiction outranked their patience.

Reyaan sighed dramatically. "Fine. You won't move unless we get coffee."

I smiled sweetly.

"But we're not treating you," he added quickly. "You're paying. For mine. And for hers."

"Both of ours," Kavya corrected proudly.

I nodded instantly — like a child who had just been promised candy.

Deal accepted.

Reyaan walked ahead before either of us could protest.

"Order properly," I warned.

He didn't even turn around. "I always do."

He leaned slightly over the counter.

"Hi," he said politely to the barista. "Sorry to trouble you, but she needs a special one."

I narrowed my eyes from across the café.

The barista blinked. "Special?"

"Yes," he nodded seriously. "Her coffee shouldn't be too strong. Or too sweet. Medium. Exactly medium."

Kavya slowly turned toward me with a smirk.

"And not too much caffeine," he continued calmly. "It gets on her head."

"It does not," I muttered under my breath.

"One and a half spoons of sugar," he added. "Not more. Not less. Otherwise, she will make you remake her coffee at least a hundred times."

The barista looked amused now. "That specific?"

"She's worse," he said casually.

I walked over before he could say anything more dramatic.

The barista glanced between us and smiled. "Brother?"

I froze.

I hate that word.

Reyaan didn't even hesitate.

"No," he said lightly. "Just her chosen slave. Best friend. Lifetime contract. I annoy her. She tolerates me."

"I do not tolerate you," I said flatly.

He handed me the receipt. "You absolutely do."

The barista laughed. "Well, I hope the coffee lives up to the standards."

"It will," Reyaan replied confidently. "It always does."

And I don't know why—

But for a second, standing there with my coffee being customized like a legal agreement—

I felt known.

Not watched. Not evaluated.

Just known.

Reyaan ordered his and Kavya's coffee too.

Kavya didn't need specifications.

She wasn't me.

As dramatic.

That role is reserved for Anvika Mehra.

I quietly paid, ignoring Reyaan's offended look when he realized.

We stepped aside, waiting for our order.

And that's when I saw it.

A man.

Staring.

Not casually.

Not absentmindedly.

Staring at a girl sitting alone two tables away.

The way he once looked at me.

I saw the discomfort in her eyes.

That tight smile.

That stiff posture.

That pretending-it's-fine energy.

I didn't think.

I just moved.

Reyaan and Kavya didn't ask.

They just followed.

Because three are always better than one.

We didn't make a scene.

Didn't accuse. Didn't shout.

I walked straight to her and smiled warmly.

"Hi," I said casually. "We're doing a quick school campaign thing. Can we borrow you for two minutes?"

She looked confused.

But relieved.

She nodded.

We stood slightly blocking her view of him.

"Listen," I said softly, lowering my voice. "The way people look at you doesn't define you. The way you look at yourself in the mirror does."

Her eyes widened a little.

"I let someone affect me like that once," I admitted quietly. "I regret every part of it. But thanks to these two idiots—" I gestured behind me, "—I don't feel powerless anymore."

Reyaan crossed his arms behind me.

Kavya gave the man a look sharp enough to slice glass.

"If someone stares," I continued gently, "glare back. Or ignore them like they don't exist. But don't shrink."

A tiny chuckle escaped her.

Relief.

Real relief.

We stayed for a minute longer, talking normally — school, classes, random memes, pretending it was all casual.

Behind us, Reyaan stared the man down.

Not aggressive.

Just steady.

Kavya joined in.

After a few uncomfortable seconds, the man looked away.

Then stood up.

Then left.

And in that moment—

I felt something shift.

Not in the mall.

In me.

I wasn't the girl who froze anymore.

I wasn't the one who walked away pretending it didn't bother her.

I had become someone I admired.

The girl muttered a small thank you before leaving.

But I saw it.

The relief in her eyes.

The weight lifting.

We returned to our table as nothing dramatic had happened.

Coffee. Noise. Normal.

I took a sip and casually leaned back.

"By the way," I said lightly, "Kavya... don't you think someone is missing today?"

Kavya caught the look in my eyes immediately.

She understood.

"Oh yes," she sighed dramatically. "There's no one boring holes into someone's existence today."

I nodded thoughtfully. "No one staring like he's looking at her favorite dessert."

"Correction," Kavya added. "The only dessert."

Reyaan glared at both of us.

But there it was.

That small smile.

The one he tries to hide when he knows we're being ridiculous.

"You two are impossible," he muttered.

"And yet," I said, lifting my coffee slightly, "you're still here."

"Unfortunately," he replied dryly.

But he didn't look away.

We moved to the dress section quietly, letting the moment settle.

The mall lights were brighter here.
Sharper. Reflecting off mirrors and sequins.

And before either of us could even look properly—

Reyaan walked straight to the counter.

"Hi," he said confidently. "Can you show bodycon dresses? One in size 28 and one in size 30."

He pointed casually at both of us without even turning around.

Kavya and I exchanged a knowing look.

Of course, he knew.

Of course, he remembered.

He didn't need to ask.

The saleswoman smiled. "Color preference?"

"For her," he gestured toward me, "nothing too loud. Structured fit. Elegant. Not overdone."

"And for her?" she asked, nodding at Kavya.

"Dramatic," he replied immediately. "She won't wear subtle."

Kavya gasped. "Excuse me?"

He shrugged. "Am I wrong?"

He wasn't.

I watched him for a second longer than necessary.

Effortless.
Practical.
Aware.

Standard man behavior.

I leaned slightly toward Kavya and whispered, "Mrs. Malhotra is going to be very lucky."

Kavya bit back a grin. "Very."

Reyaan turned around suspiciously. "Why are you two whispering?"

"Nothing," we said in sync.

I stepped out of the trial room.

The dress fit perfectly.

Not loud. Not extra.

Just... right.

Kavya gasped dramatically the moment she saw me.

"EXCUSE ME? Since when do you have permission to look THIS beautiful?"

I rolled my eyes. "Stop."

Reyaan looked up from his phone.

And for a second—

Just a second—

He forgot to speak.

Then he cleared his throat.

"It's fine," he said casually. "Good fit. Structured. Not bad."

Not bad

Kavya whipped her head toward him. "Not bad? NOT BAD?"

He shrugged. "What? It's decent."

But he wasn't looking at the dress anymore.

He was looking at me.

And I—

I was looking at myself in the mirror.

But not really.

I don't know what I was looking at.

Kavya's voice cut through the air.

"Rey... don't you think someone got tooooo lost in someone's eyes today?"

That mischievous twinkle was back.

Reyaan leaned against the counter, pretending to think.

"Hmmm," he said dramatically. "Total aankhon aankhon mein sharabi ho gayi. Full Bollywood slow motion. Background music. Wind machine."

"Slo-mo spin," Kavya added helpfully.

I glared at both of them.

But I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks.

"Stop it," I muttered. "He doesn't like me."

"He does," Kavya said immediately.

Reyaan's eyes shifted to me.

"The real question is," he said calmly, "do you want him to?"

That caught me off guard.

"Uhh... aisa kuch nahi hai," I replied quickly, avoiding eye contact.

(It's not like that.)

"Toh kaisa hai, jiiii?" Kavya nudged me.

(Then how is it, jiii?)

I folded my arms. "Nothing is there."

Reyaan tilted his head slightly.

"He avoids eye contact."

"Because you want him to," Kavya added. "Because neither of you can actually look away."

"Nahiiii toooo," I protested.

"Believe it or not," Reyaan said quietly, "people don't avoid what doesn't matter."

And suddenly—

It wasn't funny anymore.

I scoffed, "Wow. Since when did you enter your fake Colleen Hoover phase?" I scoffed.

Reyaan looked offended. "First of all," he said calmly, "I don't read anything fake. Don't insult me like that."

Kavya burst out laughing.

I grabbed the edge of the mirror stand dramatically. "Guys, can we please focus on shopping and not on deciding whether he likes me or not?"

Kavya gasped. "We're not deciding whether he likes you. We already know he does."

"Stop it," I muttered, adjusting the dress. "I think there's something wrong with the fabric. It feels... tight."

"It's not," Reyaan replied flatly.

I froze.

He froze too.

Kavya's mouth dropped open. "Oh? You observed that closely?"

"I have eyes," Reyaan defended.

"Exactly," Kavya smirked. "In a room full of people, I look for you," she sang dramatically.

I quickly looked away, pretending to fix the hem. "Nothing's wrong," I said softly this time. "He doesn't even look at me properly, you know. People show obvious signs around their crush. His eyes show nothing... except respect for my talent."

I paused.

"Maybe that's all my eyes hold too."

The teasing faded, just slightly.

Kavya spoke gently, "Someone doesn't have to look you in the eye. You remember that line from your favourite novel: Sometimes looking at someone when they're not looking... is more beautiful than eye contact."

I laughed lightly. "That's why it works in fiction. My standards are way more fictional than your novels."

"But your novels exactly fit your standards," Kavya teased. "He doesn't yet?"

"Anyway," I cut in quickly, shifting the focus. "Go try something, Kavya. Our vice basketball captain deserves a proper dance tonight."

Kavya blushed instantly, cheeks turning pink.

Reyaan and I exchanged a look.

"Oh," I said slowly, "should we call someone and tell him to get ready? Maybe warn him to carry heart medication. Eye contact can be dangerous."

She stepped out of the trial room, and for a second, I forgot how to breathe.

There she was — my best friend — the girl who would never accept compliments, yet carried beauty so effortlessly it annoyed me.

I placed a dramatic hand on my chest.
"Oh girl... where's your crown? You look like you just won Miss World. Or someone's world."

She glared.

"Mine, obviously," I added quickly in defense.

She rolled her eyes and turned to Reyaan. "You?? No comments?"

He looked at her once. Properly. "The dress looks good. The colour suits you."

"That's it."

Kavya gasped. "Only the dress? Wow. I feel like I'm third-wheeling between you two."

"Fine," Reyaan muttered. "What do you want me to say? The dress won't fix your face."

"There they go again," I sighed.

And there I was, standing in between their chaos, admiring them like an idiot.

Because after all the teasing, the drama, the eye rolls...

They were my people.

And sometimes, that's all that matters.

At Home

We had barely entered the house when Mom called out, "Anvi, come here for a minute."

Reyaan and Kavya followed without being asked.

They always do.

Mom was sitting on the couch, phone in hand.

"Adhiraj sent a voice note," she said gently.

Something in my stomach tightened.

She pressed play.

His voice filled the room — smooth, steady, warm in a way that almost felt practiced.

"Beta, how did your last exam go? Though I already know... your mother talks about you so much that I'm sure yours and your best friends' exams went well."

I didn't move.

Beside me, I felt Kavya's fingers lightly brush mine.

Not dramatic.

Just there.

"I'm really sorry to say this," he continued. "But it's a small request. If you could come on the 25th instead of the 26th? If it's inconvenient, I'll adjust. There's a sudden meeting, and three of my sons won't be available later. And I believe... on such a beautiful occasion, the family should be complete."

The voice note ended.

Silence settled in the room.

Fatherly.

Polite.

Considerate.

He didn't order.

He could have.

That was worse.

For a second, I felt the old instinct — the quiet pressure. The invisible weight of expectation.

But then—

Reyaan shifted slightly closer.

Not touching.

Just closer.

Grounded. Steady.

Kavya squeezed my fingers once.

A silent message.

You're not alone.

Mom looked at me softly. "It's just a day earlier."

Just a day.

I inhaled slowly.

"It's fine," I said calmly. "We'll go on the 25th."

My voice didn't shake.

My hand almost did.

But Kavya's grip steadied it.

No, I told myself.

It's nothing.

Just scheduling.

Just timing.

Just... planning.

Not control.

Not a strategy.

Not making sure I don't change my mind.

Just drama.

Just formality.

Right?

Reyaan's jaw tightened slightly.

He didn't say anything.

But he heard it too.

Mumma excused herself to inform Mr. Randhawa

I sighed, " Just a day earlier.
What difference could one day possibly make?"

At Randhawa Mansion, everyone sat quietly around the long dining table.

It wasn't the dangerous kind of silence.
Not the calm-before-the-storm silence either.

Just a family waiting.

All eyes were on Adhiraj.

Finally, breaking the stillness, Varsha — Adhiraj's mother asked gently,
"So? Did you receive any update? When are they coming? Are they okay with the 25th?"

Abhimanyu, Adhiraj's father, leaned back slightly. "If they can't come, don't force them, okay? Let Anvika decide."

Rudransh, Adhiraj's younger brother, added eagerly,
"Yes, Bhai, tell us! When are they coming? Everyone's so excited to meet them... to meet our little princess."

Vandana and Anuradha — the daughters-in-law of the house — nodded enthusiastically.

"Finally, this house will have a daughter," Vandana sighed dramatically.
"Someone lively. I am tired of business talks everywhere — even at the dining table!"

Anuradha laughed. "Exactly! These men only know balance sheets and meetings."

"Same," Myra chimed in, " Chachi, I need a proper friend here. These guys get so boring sometimes."

Their playful complaints earned them a few amused looks from the men.

And then—

Adhiraj's phone rang.

The screen flashed one name.

Samaira.

The decision they had all been waiting for.

The room fell silent again — but this time, the air felt different.

He stood up calmly, excused himself from the table, and walked out to take the call.

Mahendra and Rudransh exchanged a look.

A knowing one.

Adhiraj came back to the table with a soft smile on his face — a rare one.

Subtle. Controlled.
But not subtle enough to escape his brothers.

Mahendra smirked immediately, nudging Rudransh under the table.

Rudransh leaned back dramatically.
"Have you ever seen Bhai smile this naturally?" he asked. "Now I'm especially interested to see how Bhai and Bhabhi are going to be after the wedding."

Mahendra added with mock horror, "Hey Bhagwan. If he's smiling like this now, imagine after marriage."

Before anyone could respond, a chair screeched slightly.

Vihaan — who had been unusually quiet till now — suddenly stood up on his seat.

"BADE PAPA IS IN A FULL MAIN YAMLA PAGLA DEEWANA MOOD!" he declared dramatically, breaking into exaggerated singing like he was on a concert stage.

The table exploded.

Mahendra clutched his chest, laughing.
Rudransh nearly choked on his water.
Myra hid her face behind her hand, trying not to laugh too loudly.

Vandana and Anuradha joined in, clapping teasingly.

Adhiraj looked up slowly.

He gave Vihaan a look.

Not the usual one.

Not the one that could cut steel.

This one was lighter. Amused. Almost fond.

"Vihaan," he said calmly, though his lips twitched, "finish your dinner."

"But Bade Papa is blushingggg," Vihaan dragged the word dramatically.

"Sit," Adhiraj warned.

Playful.

Vihaan plopped back down, still grinning as he had just exposed a national secret.

Even Varsha shook her head, smiling softly. "Let the child eat in peace. You all are worse than him."

Myra leaned toward Vandana and whispered loudly enough for everyone to hear, "Finally. Some entertainment at this table. I was tired of business talk even during dinner."

"Exactly," Anuradha agreed. "Our little princess better come soon. We need balance in this house."

Only Adhrit remained composed.

He wiped his hands neatly and looked toward his father.

"So?" he asked evenly. "Are they coming on the 25th? Or are we keeping it 26th? I'll need to manage my meetings accordingly."

The laughter slowly faded.

All eyes shifted back to Adhiraj.

The smile stayed.

But his posture straightened slightly.

And for a second—

He wasn't Yamla Pagla Deewana anymore.

He was the head of the family.

"Yes," he said. "They're coming on the 25th. Samaira agreed. Anvika will manage."

A small murmur of approval passed around the table.

"And," he added after a pause, "two of Anvika's best friends will be coming with her. Samaira said they're her only family... apart from her."

That softened the room.

Varsha nodded gently.
"That's good. A girl should never feel alone."

No more teasing.
No more dramatic singing.

Just quiet understanding.

Dinner resumed.

Later—

Abhimanyu, Adhiraj, Mahendra, and Rudransh settled in front of the television, the evening news playing softly.

Upstairs, on the second-floor lounge, Varsha, Myra, Vandana, and Anuradha discussed wedding preparations with growing excitement.

And the brothers?

They headed to the gym.

Because of course.

Successful businessmen had reputations to maintain — intimidating in boardrooms, presentable in wedding photos.

And somewhere between news headlines, bridal discussions, and dumbbell sets—

No one knew
that the girl they were waiting for
was carrying far more than luggage.
At Anvika's House

The night arrived.

Not the usual quiet.

No distant traffic hum.
No random dogs barking.
No television murmuring from some neighbor's balcony.

Tonight was different.

It was eerily still.

As if the universe knew too —
that things were about to change.

That no matter how much I tried to run from it...
it wouldn't change the fact that I was walking into a world
I wasn't ready for.

Reyaan had left an hour ago.

Kavya stayed back. Her mother wasn't home, and neither of us felt like pretending everything was normal tonight.

We didn't talk much.

Didn't joke.

Didn't tease.

Just lay there.

The ceiling fan hummed softly above us.

At some point, exhaustion pulled me under.

And for a few minutes —

It was peaceful.

Too peaceful.

Then—

It happened.

That same dream.

CLIFFHANGERRRR

Hope it was better. But I am sorry if it was boring.

Thank you all for reading. Love U all, my dear moodiesss 💖💖