The car slowed to a halt in front of the grand iron gates, which opened with a quiet hum. Arina's gaze lifted from the blurred view outside the tinted glass to the familiar front porch of her parents' home. The driver stepped out and came around to open the door for her.
As she adjusted her saree , the soft thud of the car's trunk opening caught her attention. She turned to see the driver carefully lifting out two large, elegantly wrapped boxes.
"I… didn't bring these," she said, frowning slightly.
"They're from Sir," the driver explained with a faint smile, already carrying them toward the entrance.
Her lips parted in surprise, but she didn't comment further. Reyansh hadn't mentioned any gifts. She wondered briefly what he was planning — though with him, she was beginning to realize, such gestures could be as intentional as they were unexpected.
The heavy teak door was slightly ajar. As she stepped inside, the familiar scent of sandalwood polish and freshly brewed tea wrapped around her like a childhood memory. The living room was just as in real arina's memory— polished marble floors, a grand beige sofa, and the quiet warmth of a home always kept in order.
Her father was sitting upright on the sofa, reading glasses perched low on his nose, the morning paper in hand. Across the room, her mother stood near the dining area, instructing the maid, Rakhi, in a firm but gentle tone about something that seemed to involve a silver tray and freshly cut flowers.
The moment her mother saw her, the older woman's face softened into a smile. She crossed the room with measured steps but couldn't hide the rush of warmth in her eyes. She wrapped Arina in a gentle hug, her hands lingering on her shoulders as if to make sure she was really there.
Her father stood, setting his newspaper aside. "Arina," he said, his deep voice carrying both fondness and a hint of formality, "come, sit down."
Rani, the other maid, appeared from the hallway, and her mother turned to her. "Inform Advika that Arina has arrived," she instructed. Then, to Rakhi, "Fetch the snacks and tea from kitchen".
Arina lifted her hands slightly. "No need, Ma. I already had breakfast before leaving. Please, don't trouble yourself."
Her father gestured for her to sit anyway, settling back beside her as her mother took the seat opposite.
"So," her father began, adjusting his watch, "how is Reyansh treating you? Any problems? Anything you want to tell us?"
Arina smiled faintly, keeping her tone even. "He's treating me well. There's nothing to worry about. And both of you? How is your health?"
They exchanged a glance that only long-married couples could share, a wordless reassurance. "We're managing," her mother replied.
Before Arina could say more, the sound of light, quick footsteps came from the hallway upstairs — and she already knew who it was.
Advika appeared at the top of the stairs, her long hair bouncing with each step. Her eyes lit up the moment she spotted Arina, and without hesitation, she rushed forward.
"Didi!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around her in a tight embrace. "I missed you so much!"
Arina allowed herself a small smile, returning the hug.
Advika leaned back only to launch into a rapid string of questions — Was she eating well? How was her room at Reyansh's place? Was she happy? Did she miss home? — barely pausing for breath before teasing her about her new husband in a way that was more playful than probing.
If Arina was the calm, collected one in the family, Advika was the whirlwind — bright, enthusiastic, and always in motion. Their bond had always been easy, untouched by jealousy or rivalry.
The rest of the morning passed with light conversation. Her father asked after small details of her day-to-day life, her mother occasionally adding questions of her own. The warmth in the room felt genuine, and though Arina's feelings for them didn't carry the same emotional weight others might expect, she was still grateful. She had no wish to hurt them — not by choice, nor by accident.
After some time , Advika pulled Arina toward her room. "Come on, I want to talk properly before Ma calls us again."
The room looked much the same as when Arina had last stayed there, the soft pastel curtains swaying lightly with the breeze from the open balcony door. Advika made her sit on the bed before settling beside her.
"I still can't believe you're married," she said, poking her sister's arm. "And to Reyansh, of all people. So… is he romantic? Does he buy you flowers? Gifts?" She nodded toward the wrapped boxes downstairs with a knowing grin. "Clearly he's doing something."
Arina shook her head, amused at her sister's teasing but choosing not to feed it. "You think too much."
Advika laughed and kept asking little questions, each one dipping into the edges of curiosity without crossing into intrusion. They stayed like that until a knock came at the door.
"Lunch is ready," Rani announced from the hallway.
Downstairs, the dining table was set with an array of dishes — fresh chapatis, vegetable curries, steaming rice, and the tangy scent of pickles. The family ate together, conversation flowing easily.
Afterward, as they sat in the living room again, her father looked at her over his teacup. "You'll stay the night?"
Arina shook her head politely. "No, I should get back today. There's a lot waiting for me."
He didn't press, but the slight furrow in his brow told her he would have preferred her to stay.
By six o'clock, she rose to leave. Her mother hugged her tightly, and Advika clung to her arm for an extra moment before letting go.
"If you ever have a problem," her father said firmly, "call us. For anything."
In the car, as the city lights began to flicker to life outside the window, Arina leaned back and let her thoughts settle. They were good people — far better than she could have asked for . She didn't want to bring them pain.
If anything, she would play her role flawlessly — a perfect daughter, a perfect sister — whatever it took to keep the illusion intact.