**Hyatt hotel, 9th floor, room 14, Northern Delhi**

Rohit stood outside the door, checking his watch again.

10:30 AM.

He had originally planned to visit Raju and Mrinal at Central Jail, but visiting hours wouldn’t begin until 12:30. So instead, he had decided to stop by and see Riya.

Which somehow turned this into an unplanned visit.

He paused, suddenly feeling hesitant.

’Is it too early? Will I look desperate showing up without even calling first? Especially on my first visit?’

The biggest reason for his reluctance was that he hadn’t asked for her number earlier.

He raised his hand to ring the bell.

The door opened before he touched it.

Riya stood there, dressed in an deep burgundy saree that perfectly accentuated her hourglass figure. The way the fabric draped over her body, exposing her smooth navel and the deep cleavage of her blouse, instantly captured his attention. For a moment, he was completely frozen.

This was only the second time he had felt this strongly attracted to someone wearing a saree — the first being Ragini. It was as if this traditional dress was specially made to enhance their beauty.

Riya looked stunning — well-dressed, with delicate jewelry, bangles on her wrists, and a purse in her hand. She appeared ready to go out somewhere.

She stopped when she saw him. A genuine flicker of surprise crossed her face before settling into warmth.

"Rohit." A soft laugh. "You actually came."

She didn’t step back to invite him in. Instead she pulled the door closed behind her and checked her phone briefly — a small, practiced motion that told him two things simultaneously. She was pleased to see him. And she wasn’t giving him access to her room.

Rohit noted both.

"I’m interrupting," he said.

"You are," she agreed pleasantly. "But it’s alright. I was going to a temple. You’re welcome to come if you don’t mind."

Temple.

He kept his expression neutral but the word landed oddly against his memory of her. The Riya he remembered would have been heading to a concert, or spending the morning at a piano somewhere. She had no patience for ritual.

Religion had never been their family’s domain, not even hers.

"Sure," he said. "Lead the way."

***

Riya led him to the parking lot where her silver color Volvo was parked. A young bodyguard in a crisp black suit stood nearby and greeted them both with a respectful nod.

"Good morning, ma’am. Sir."

He was a man of few words. Riya introduced him casually. "This is Dhananjay."

Rohit observed the man quietly. His gaze was sharp and disciplined, constantly scanning entrances, exits, and potential threats. He carried himself with quiet alertness — the mark of a capable and loyal bodyguard, the kind one only truly trusted after years of familiarity.

They got in. The city moved past the windows. Neither of them spoke for a minute.

Rohit broke it without making it seem like he was breaking it. "Which temple? Any particular occasion?"

Riya tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Lord Shiva temple. My in-laws are opening a solar panel warehouse in the area next month. I suggested we make a small offering beforehand — distribute prasad to devotees, ask for the blessing before the launch. It builds goodwill with the local community as much as anything else."

Rohit listened. The reasoning was sound and practical — religion deployed as social capital, which was a perfectly Indian approach to both. What he was still turning over was the temple visit itself rather than a ceremony at the site. That was the part that didn’t quite fit.

He didn’t say so.

"That’s thoughtful," he said instead.

Riya glanced at him. Something in her expression suggested she had noticed the slight pause before he said it. She smiled and said nothing.

A minute passed.

She took out her phone and turned the camera toward him with a light expression. "You won’t mind a photo with your elder sister, will you?"

"Of course not."

She leaned in, rested her hand gently on his shoulder, and took the shot. Then checked it immediately with the particular focus of someone who cared about the result.

Her expression settled.

"It’s fine," she said, in the tone people use when something is not quite fine.

Rohit held out his hand. "Let me take one."

She passed the phone. He adjusted the angle, looked at her directly this time, and smiled — a real one, small but present. He took the shot and showed her.

Riya looked at it. Her nose went up slightly in that childish way — pleased but not fully satisfied. "Something’s still missing. It doesn’t feel like family." 𝒻𝘳ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝒷𝘯ℴ𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝑐ℴ𝑚

Rohit kept his expression open, curious. Waiting to see what she would do with that.

She looked at him and smiled gently. "Are we really that distant, Rohit? You really don’t remember anything, do you?"

"My bad." He tilted the phone slightly. "Should I put my hand around your shoulder?" He paused briefly, gauging her reaction. "Would that be alright, Riya?"

She looked at him for a moment, then smiled with something rueful underneath. "That was before marriage. Now we have to maintain certain boundaries in public."

Her eyes sparkled with mischief for a flicker of moment as she continued, "And even if you are adopted, you should call me Di or Sis. Otherwise people might misunderstand."

She said it gently, without weight. But the words sat there clearly.

Rohit caught the line "in public" and leaned closer as he took another snap.

This time she let herself settle into it properly. When he showed her the result she was satisfied — but her eyes moved to the screen and she said quietly, almost to herself, "Only one."

Rohit recalled that Riya used to be quite the selfie princess. The fact that she wasn’t asking for more photos suggested she was holding herself back a lot.

’Has she really changed this much after marriage?’

An idea sparked in his mind. This could be the perfect natural opening to bring up Ragini’s accident and understand why Arya was so angry with her.

He glanced casually at her phone. "Are there any old photos? From before your marriage?"

Riya’s eyes lit up immediately. "Plenty." She smiled and shifted closer. "Come closer, I’ll show you."

She paused, thumb hovering over the screen. "Just yours or everyone?"

Rohit feigned a moment of thought. "Everyone around you. Who knows what comes handy."

Riya smiled, visibly impressed.

As Rohit leaned closer to look at the gallery, a faint jasmine fragrance reached him. Beside him, Riya subtly leaned in as well, her shoulder brushing lightly against his arm while she opened the cloud album on her phone.

The first photo she showed him was her wedding picture.

"This is your brother-in-law," she said calmly. "Jeet Dadani. Second son of Gambhir Dadani. Even if you weren’t interested in family matters before, you should at least remember his face."

Rohit studied the image carefully.

Riya looked stunning in her bridal attire — elegant, composed, almost unreal in beauty — but her expression lacked warmth. Meanwhile, Jeet looked distracted, his gaze fixed somewhere away from the camera as though his own wedding was merely another obligation to attend.

Perfect-looking couple.

Zero chemistry.

Rohit silently noted it.

Riya continued scrolling. She showed him glimpses of her college life — events, trips, and performances. Rohit noticed she was deeply involved in singing back then.

Then one particular photo caught his attention.

A young man around her age was handing her a microphone while their friends cheered loudly in the background. Riya herself looked visibly embarrassed in the picture — the kind of shy smile people fail to hide when emotions are genuine.

Rohit’s eyes narrowed slightly.

The same guy kept appearing repeatedly across multiple college photos.

Standing close to her.

Leaning toward her.

Watching her instead of the camera.

And every time he appeared, their friends looked unusually excited — almost like they were openly shipping them together.

But strangely...

He only appeared in photos from the first three years.

By the final year, he was completely gone.

For some reason, Rohit found that absence more interesting than his presence.

Casually, he asked,

"Riya... I mean, Di... can I ask something?"

"Hm?"

"That wedding photo earlier..." He tilted his head slightly. "You and brother-in-law looked gorgeous together. Was it a love marriage or arranged?"

Riya’s face fell for a brief second before she quickly masked it with a polite smile.

"You asked for before-marriage photos, didn’t you?" she replied lightly while scrolling ahead. "Let’s save those questions for another day."

Rohit didn’t push further.

Soon the gallery shifted into older memories — school days, camping trips, fishing outings, birthday parties, formal family events, music concerts, auditorium visits.

There were photos of Riya leaning over his shoulder while he studied.

Photos of him irritating her during piano practice.

The atmosphere in those pictures felt... warm and natural like a real family he wished for.

Rohit quietly observed something else.

Arya barely appeared in many of the earlier albums.

But then one particular image caught his attention.

In the background of one of Riya’s selfies — where she was happily posing in a new dress — Ragini could be seen speaking to a man wearing formal medical attire.

Rohit’s eyes sharpened slightly.

"Di," he asked casually, pointing at the figure, "who’s that guy?"

Riya frowned immediately, her expression turning noticeably unpleasant.

"Oh... him." She sounded almost irritated. "He was an assistant working under the doctor who treated Mom after her accident."

She paused briefly before adding, "You probably don’t remember, but Mom had a terrible accident around eight years ago."

Rohit kept his tone neutral."What kind of accident?"

Riya sighed, her expression turning somber. "It was quite problematic. Her internal organs suffered severe complications. The doctors at AIIMS made me sign consent papers for surgery three times. I still get nightmares thinking about it."

Rohit leaned in slightly. "Was that the same doctor who treated Mom back then?"

Riya shrugged. "I’m not entirely sure. I was just told to sign, and I did. I’m only glad the operation went well." After a brief pause, she added, "At first, the main doctor used to come himself to check on her, but later it was mostly this assistant who showed up. Their timing was... a little troubling."

Rohit nodded silently. It matched the fragments in his memory. The "troubling timing" was likely because the visits often clashed with Riya’s piano lessons — or perhaps something darker had happened that he still wasn’t aware of.

Riya switched to another album. The first photo that appeared made Rohit raise an eyebrow.

It was him during puberty, face flushed with embarrassment as Riya playfully pulled his ear. His tent in his pants was painfully obvious in the frame. Riya had clearly taken the photo on purpose, even zooming in slightly with a mischievous grin.

Rohit said nothing, but internally he felt second-hand embarrassment for his predecessor. ’What an embarrassing soul... If I had transmigrated earlier, I might’ve at least handled it with a little more dignity.’

Riya skipped past the photo without comment, though a faint, nostalgic smile lingered on her lips.

The next images were warmer — childhood memories. A chubby five-year-old Rohit getting a piggyback ride from Arya.

Countless vacation photos in different timelines.

One particularly candid shot showed him fast asleep with his head in Riya’s lap and his legs sprawled across Arya’s thighs. Arya changed the TV channel leaning on his legs and Riya drew a silly moustache on his face with a marker.

"This one," Riya said fondly, "was always my favorite. You used to fall asleep in my lap all the time."

She zoomed in proudly on the badly drawn moustache.

"And then I’d upgrade your face."

Rohit raised an eyebrow. "This doesn’t look like a selfie though."

Riya smiled mischievously.

"Who said cloud albums only contain selfies?"

Rohit chuckled softly as she continued scrolling through dozens of simillar moments together.

Then, in the middle of it all, he suddenly asked:

"I find it strange."

Riya glanced at him.

"You, Arya Sis, and me... we all looked genuinely close before." His eyes stayed on the screen. "So why can’t you two even look each other in the eye properly nowadays?"

Riya rolled her eyes. "Isn’t it obvious? The answer is you."

Rohit looked genuinely puzzled. "Me?"

Riya nodded. "From the day you came into this house, Arya became completely obsessed with you."

Before Rohit could ask anything more, Dhananjay’s voice came from the front seat.

"Ma’am, we have reached the location."