Diya

The day had been kind to me. The cake orders were delivered, and the customers' happy words still rang in my ears. It felt good knowing that something made with my hands could bring joy to others. But the hours of standing, decorating, and working non-stop had left a dull ache at the back of my head.

Still, who knew pain could be so sweet when it was all worth it?

As I walked down the lane, the aroma of freshly brewed chai curled into the air, wrapping around me like an invisible pull. My steps slowed before I could even think I couldn't deny myself a sip of refreshment.

Without hesitation, I veered towards the small tea stall at the corner, where the vendor expertly poured steaming tea from a high distance, the liquid forming a perfect arch before landing into tiny clay cups. I ordered one for myself.

Standing by the road, I let the rich taste of chai coat my throat, each sip melting away the exhaustion. Air brushed against my face, and my eyes landed on the quirky tagline painted across the tea shop's wooden board.

'Dilwale dulhaniya le jaayein ya na le jaayein, lekin chaiwale chai zaroor pilaayenge!'

(Whether or not the lover takes his bride, the tea vendor will always serve tea!)

A soft chuckle escaped me. "Aajkal ke logon ki creativity ki to daad deni padegi." (Salute to people's creativity.) I took another sip, sighing in satisfaction. "Par chai waqai me bahut achhi hai," (But the tea really is amazing.)

I stood there a little longer, watching the world move around me. But something felt off, a strange sensation prickled at the back of my neck, the one that tells you someone is watching.

I frowned slightly, scanning the area around me. Nothing seemed unusual. People walked by, engaged in their own lives. I had felt this before... that day in my kitchen while baking.

Shaking my head, I muttered, "Bas mera wehem hoga." (It's just my imagination.) Quickly finishing my tea, I placed the empty cup on the vendor's counter, murmured a thank you, and started walking ahead. I didn't dare look back.

I entered the grocery store, to buy essentials I needed. But my heart drummed a subtle, anxious beat, a feeling I couldn't shake off no matter how much I tried to distract myself. My eyes flitted to the price tags, pretending to focus on discounts and offers. Yet, an odd awareness prickled down my spine.

I forced myself to move, tossing items into the basket hastily before heading toward the checkout counter. Placing my basket onto the conveyor belt, I exhaled, trying to steady my pulse.

"Good evening," the cashier greeted me. I barely nodded. My mind was elsewhere.

As I handed over the cash, something shifted. A ripple in the air, a faint disturbance that made my instincts scream. A shadow fitted my peripheral vision, swift, retreated. Someone was there may be watching or running? But I darted my eyes, a man stood right next to me.

So close, I could feel the heat of his presence seeping into my space, yet he hadn't touched me. His eyes were intense, locked onto mine, held something indecipherable, something that rooted me in place. Predatory yet controlled. Like he was studying me, unraveling me thread by thread.

He was tall, effortlessly commanding, his presence magnetic in a way that made the world blur at the edges. His ink-black hair, a strong, stubbled jaw, dresses in black suit, crisp yet he looked so out of place standing amid plastic shopping baskets and candy displays.

My stomach did a thing, I knew I should look away, should say something but I couldn't. It was like he had cast a spell on me. He was mesmerizingly handsome. I could feel my skin prickle.

Suddenly, a voice sliced through the air, a loud customer behind me, snapping, "Excuse me! Could you move? I need to get by."

The spell shattered, and with a sharp intake of breath, i snapped back. I tried to compose myself, but legs felt weak, like they were made of jelly.

"I-I'm sorry," I stammered, stumbling aside, I turned again to look him desperate to find him again but he was already vanished. Panic twisted in my gut. I searched the crowd; my gaze darting past aisles and faces but I couldn't find him.

And the strangest part? I couldn't even remember his face. I had seen him. Locked eyes with him. Felt his presence down to my very bones. And yet, I couldn't recall the exact shape of his features. Like a dream slipping through my fingers.

But I wanted to. I wanted to remember more of him. I wanted to see him again.

And yet, I knew he wasn't the one who had moved behind me. It wasn't him.

Was it related to that note from the last night? If yes then I can't sit here just scared and vulnerable. I need to find who sent me that note and what they did to my family.

*******

The soft glow of the Diya flickered gently as I finished my prayers, the scent of incense curling in the air. My hands folded instinctively, seeking a moment of peace. But just as I exhaled, grounding myself in the quiet—

Ding-dong.

The sudden chime of the doorbell pulled me back. Quickly murmuring the last of my prayers, I rose to my feet and hurried to the door, smoothing my dupatta as I reached for the handle.

The moment I opened it, my breath hitched. A man stood before me tall, broad, and intimidatingly composed. He looked to be in his early thirties, dressed in a sharp black suit. And yet, what truly unsettled me was his gaze.

Those dark, piercing eyes burned straight into my soul assessing, knowing. It felt like they had seen me before, unraveled me layer by layer. And that's when my heart gave a stuttering beat. It was him. The same man from yesterday at grocery store.

Heat curled in my stomach, my pulse betraying me even as I gripped the door handle for support. My mind screamed at me to regain composure, but my body reacted differently. But before I could fully process it, a small voice snapped me back to reality.

"Diya!" I blinked, finally noticing the little boy beside him. Laksh.

He was clutching the man's arm tightly, his big brown eyes lighting up as he saw me. Dressed in a black-and-white checkered shirt, a tiny bow adorning his collar, he looked absolutely adorable.

A smile broke across my face, all hesitation forgotten. I crouched to his height, squishing his chubby cheeks. "Hello, my jelly bean!" I cooed, momentarily lost in his innocent giggles.

For a brief moment, I forgot all about the towering man beside him.

"Ahem", he cleared his throat. Realizing my lapse, I quickly stood up, chuckling nervously.

"Hello," I greeted, schooling my expression. Before the man could respond, Laksh beamed up at me and yelled excitedly, "Diya, Papa!"

My stomach flipped. Papa? Oh. Oh. So, this man, this unnervingly handsome, intimidating man was Laksh's father.

My heart hammered against my ribs as I straightened my posture, suddenly self-conscious. "Hello, sir," I greeted politely, trying to keep my voice even.

But his deep voice cut through the air, smooth yet authoritative.

"Manveer," he corrected. "You can call me Manveer."

I swallowed. "Ji, Manveer ji."

"Actually," Manveer continued, his tone unreadable, "we were going to the park, and he insisted he wouldn't go without you. So I just wanted to ask if you're free to join us."

I blinked, caught off guard. Laksh tugged at my hand eagerly.

I hesitated for a second, glancing back inside. Maa was still asleep. If she woke up and saw me with him, I knew she would have something to say. Something I didn't want to deal with. Before Manveer could notice my reluctance, I quickly blurted, "Oh! I'll just grab my purse a real quick."

Without waiting for a response, I immediately shut the door. Leaning against it for a brief moment, I exhaled, pressing a hand to my racing heart. What was happening? I was practically gasping for air, as if trying to gather all the oxygen around me. Why did this man have such an overwhelming presence?

Shaking my head, I grabbed my purse and stepped back out. A shiny black Phantom stood gleaming under the morning light, its polished surface reflecting the quiet street.

I blinked. He drives something like this????

Manveer stood beside the car; his expression unreadable. With a slight nod, he motioned toward the open door. "Please, get in."

But before I could overthink it, his dark gaze pinned me in place. Heat curled in my stomach. That's what it felt like being pulled under by something I didn't understand. Without another word, I quickly slid into the seat.

As Manveer settled into the driver's seat, he spoke, his voice deep and even. "I'm really sorry, Miss Diya, but he wasn't listening at all."

I exhaled, forcing a small smile. "It's okay, Manveer ji," I said gently. I didn't want him to feel bad. He was just a father fulfilling his child's stubborn wish, nothing more.

As he started the car, he talked about random things mostly about Laksh.

Meanwhile, Laksh was in his own little world, pressing his nose against the window, counting trees as they blurred past. His little voice murmured numbers under his breath, completely unbothered by the awkwardness in the air.

But what was I even doing? I barely knew this man, and yet here I was joining him on what was essentially his family time. How did I agree so easily?

"Actually... I know this is sudden and awkward, and you don't know me well, but I hope you'll understand."

I turned to him, confused. Understand what? "Hm." I replied absently, not fully paying attention.

"Laksh told me you bake very sweet cakes."

I shifted in my seat. "Yeah," I muttered, suddenly feeling restless.

But the restlessness wasn't because of his words it was because of him. Because of what he was doing to my thoughts. His presence alone made my pulse skitter. His voice, deep and measured, settled into my skin like an imprint that wouldn't fade.

And that realization made guilt claw at my chest. This was wrong. This man was older than me. He had a family. A son. And somewhere, a wife. He had only come here for Laksh. That's it. So why was my mind spiraling into dangerous places?

"Stupid, Diya," I cursed myself internally. This was nothing but a hormonal betrayal, I reasoned. It would fade over time.

For the whole time I was writing this chapter my stomach was doing things to me.😭

My own written character has cast spell on me. I am practically crushing over this man, I need help guys! ✋🏻😩🫢