Chapter 3: The Absence Before Arrival
[Scene: Late afternoon. Drawing room. Monsoon light filters in through cream curtains. Some cousins are gathered. Laughter. Legs hanging off sofas. Armaan is sprawled on the floor with a bowl of chips. Kabir is on the single-seater near the window — grey shirt, jeans, barefoot. Phone in hand, but screen untouched.]
Armaan
Bro, you’ve checked the same screen five times in five minutes.
Is it broken or are you?
Kabir
(not looking up):
Just bored.
Armaan
So bored that you're blinking at WhatsApp like it'll write back?
Kabir
Why are you here again?
Armaan
(grinning):
Because I love ruining your peace.
Also because Bhabhi isn't here to save you.
Kabir
(offhand):
She’s busy?
Armaan
(watching him):
Went upstairs with Ma. Something about old sarees.
[He scrolls randomly now. Opens and closes an app. Adjusts his posture. Rubs his jaw. It's subtle, but he's… waiting. Not in love. Just restless.]
Reha
(yawning):
I’m telling you, Inaaya Bhabhi is way too elegant for this family.
Armaan
Exactly! And bhaiyya suddenly has manners
Kabir
(dry):
You’re both extremely loud for people with no income
Armaan
And you're unusually grumpy for someone who just got married.
Is the honeymoon phase already over?
Kabir
It hasn’t even started
Reha
Aww. Are you two slow-burning or just awkward?
Kabir
Rhea, please go argue with a mirror.
[More laughter. Light teasing. But Kabir glances at the stairs again — just once. Just briefly. As if it wasn't on purpose.]
---
[And then… she enters.]
---
[Inaaya. Pale blue kurti. Hair loose. Holding a tray with a few coffee cups. Simple. But the energy shifts — for him, it slows. Just a second. A pause. That strange stillness you feel before rain.]
Kabir
(too fast):
Let me help
Inaya
(surprised):
It’s just a tray.
Kabir
(taking it anyway):
Doesn’t mean you carry it alone.
[He takes the tray, places it on the table. She nods in thanks. Their fingers don’t touch — but his stayed closer than necessary.]
Reha
(teasing):
Look at that. From ‘I don’t believe in arranged marriages’ to
‘Don’t let her carry things.’
Kabir
Rhea, do you want me to block you in real life?
Armaan
(whispering to Rhea):
He was moody until she walked in. I saw it.
Reha
Typical.
Men don’t fall in love — they notice the silence when she’s gone.
[Kabir sips coffee, doesn’t reply. But his foot taps gently. He’s not angry. Not denying.
And when Inaaya sits beside his mother and starts chatting about something small — turmeric, maybe —
he finds himself… listening.]
Kabir
(to himself):
Weird.
Armaan
(overhearing):
What?
Armaan
(grinning):
You sure?
Because you looked at her like she was the only sentence in a noisy room.
Armaan
Exactly. That’s the problem
[Scene fades with chatter. Afternoon gold deepening into evening grey. Kabir checks his phone again. Not for messages. Just for something to do — so he doesn’t look at her again.]
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