After Sometime;

The Mercedes pulled up to the front of the school, and the atmosphere instantly shifted. Usually, Aahan or Arushi handled the drop-offs, but today was different.

Aryan stepped out, looking sharp and imposing, while Anjali followed, looking effortlessly chic in a pair of high-waisted jeans and a crisp white top.

 She looked young, radiant, and very much alive.

As they walked Advika to the gate, the "Mom's Club"—a group of perfectly manicured women standing near the entrance—went dead silent. 

Whispers broke out like wildfire.

"Wait, is that... Anjali Taneja? Par hum toh uski prayer meet pe gaye thay char saal pehle!" one whispered.

"Plastic surgery? Or something else?" another hissed.

Anjali felt the weight of their stares. She didn't know these women, but she could feel their judgment.

After a flurry of kisses and a "Be a good girl" to Advika, Anjali and Aryan turned back toward the car.

But before they could reach it, the group of moms blocked their path, led by a woman in a bright pink tracksuit.

"Oh my God! Anjali? It's really you!" the woman exclaimed, her voice dripping with fake concern.

"Humein toh yakeen hi nahi ho raha! Hum sab tumhare liye itna roye the. Where were you? Itne saal kahan gayab thi? Sab toh kehte thay ki accident mein..."

Another woman stepped forward, her eyes scanning Anjali from head to toe.

"Haan, aur suddenly wapas? I mean, it's so... dramatic. Advika ne kabhi bataya nahi ki uski Mumma alive hain. Was it some secret legal thing or... health issues?"

Anjali felt a wave of discomfort. The questions were sharp, intrusive, and felt like a trap. She opened her mouth to speak, her voice slightly hesitant.

 "Actually, main—"

Before she could finish, she felt a firm, warm hand slide around her waist, pulling her flush against a solid chest.

Aryan stepped in, his presence instantly chilling the air around the gossiping women.

He didn't look at them; his gaze was fixed on Anjali, as if she were the only person in the world.

"Jaan, humein late ho raha hai," Aryan said, his voice deep and possessively smooth. 

He then turned his gaze to the women, his eyes turning into cold flint.

"I'm sure you ladies have a lot of free time to discuss stories, but my wife doesn't owe anyone an explanation for her survival," 

Aryan stated firmly, his grip on her waist tightening.

"She was away because I chose to keep her away from eyes that only look for scandals. Now that she's back, she is the only priority of the Taneja family. So, unless you have something meaningful to say about our daughter's education, I'd appreciate it if you let us pass."

The women backtracked instantly, their faces turning a shade of embarrassed red.

 They muttered some hurried "Welcome backs" and cleared the way.

Aryan didn't wait. He led Anjali to the car, opening the door for her like she was made of glass. 

As they pulled away, Anjali let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

"Aryan... tum itna gussa kyun ho gaye? Wo bas pooch rahi thi," Anjali said, though a small smile was playing on her lips.

"Poochh nahi rahi thi, woh log tamasha banana chahti thi," Aryan grumbled, finally loosening his tie as he looked at her.

"I don't like the way they were looking at you,jaan. Jaise tum koi news headline ho. You are my wife, not a topic for their kitty party gossip."

Anjali chuckled, leaning her head on his shoulder. 

"Possessive much, Mr. Taneja?"

"Always for you" he whispered, kissing the top of her head.

Author's POV:

They were driving through the city when Aryan suddenly swerved into a familiar, narrow lane.

Anjali watched the road through the window, a small, knowing smile flickering on her lips.

She looked over at him, only to find him already watching her with a soft expression.

"Kya hua?" he asked, his voice low and playful.

"Tumhe kaise pata mujhe yahan aana tha?"

Aryan shrugged, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

 "Well, mard ko apni pasandida aurat ke man ki sari batein pata hoti hai."

Anjali blushed and gave his shoulder a light, playful punch. 

"Zyada filmy mat bano!"

Soon, the car came to a halt in front of a small, rustic tea stall—

a local tapri they used to visit years ago.

The weather was perfect, with grey clouds stretching across the sky and a cool breeze blowing.

Anjali practically squealed with joy as she got out.

Aryan walked around to her side, smiling at her excitement before turning to the vendor.

"Chacha, do kulhad chai," Aryan ordered.

The vendor nodded, and the two of them sat down on a wooden bench nearby. 

Anjali leaned back, taking in the nostalgic surroundings.

"Pehli baar humne saath mein chai yahin pee thi," she whispered, her eyes misty.

Aryan chuckled, sliding his arm around her shoulders to pull her closer.

"Us din humne yahan kuch aur bhi kiya tha," he said, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips as he leaned in.

Anjali felt her cheeks heat up. She gently pushed his face away, laughing.

"Char saal mein bohot besharam ho gaye ho tum!"

Aryan didn't back down; instead, he leaned into her ear, his voice a velvety murmur.

"Besharam toh main pehle se tha, Mrs. Taneja."

"Acha ji?" Anjali teased, tilting her head.

"Haan ji," he replied confidently.

Just then, the vendor arrived with two steaming clay cups of tea.

As Anjali reached for hers, Aryan looked at his cup, then at hers, and smirked. 

He gestured for the vendor to take his cup back.

Anjali looked at him, confused. "Wapas kyun kar di? Chai pasand nahi aayi?"

"Nahi," Aryan said, looking her straight in the eyes as he took the kulhad right out of her hand.

"Mujhe meri biwi ke hothon ki mithas wali chai peeni hai."

He took a slow sip from her cup, his eyes never leaving hers. Anjali chuckled, shaking her head at his antics.

"Ye bolo na ki tumhe ek hi cup mein peena hai... itni ghumai hui baatein kyun kar rahe ho?"

"Baatein ghumane ka maza hi kuch aur hai," Aryan whispered, offering the cup back to her.

"Tumhare saath har cheez pehli baar jaisi lag rahi hai,jaan. Aur main ek bhi pal waste nahi karna chahta."

Anjali took the kulhad back from him, the warmth of the clay seeping into her palms.

She took a sip, the cardamom and ginger flavor hitting her tongue, and laughed softly.

"Pata hai," she started, nudging his shoulder with hers.

"Jab hum pehli baar yahan aaye the, toh tum kitne nakhre dikha rahe the. Tumne kaha tha—'Anjali, hum 5-star ja sakte hain, kisi achhe cafe ja sakte hain... hum yahan is sadak ke kinare tapri par kyun baithe hain?'"

Aryan laughed, the sound deep and genuine. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking slightly embarrassed.

"Arey, tab main thoda zyaada hi 'Business Tycoon' mode mein rehta tha na. Mujhe laga tha ki tumhe impress karne ke liye mujhe tumhe sabse mehengi jagah le jana chahiye."

"Aur maine kya kaha tha?" Anjali teased, tilting her head.

"Tumne kaha tha ki 5-star mein sukoon nahi milta, sirf bill milta hai," Aryan replied, mimics her voice perfectly, making her giggle.

"Aur ye bhi kaha tha ki asli maza toh is mitti ki khushboo wali chai mein hai. Us din mujhe samajh aaya tha ki meri pasand kitni boring thi aur tumhari kitni filmy."

Anjali leaned her head on his shoulder, watching the steam rise from the tea.

"Tab tumhare suit pe thodi si chai gir gayi thi... yaad hai? Tumne pura din aise behave kiya tha jaise tumhara sabse bada nuksaan ho gaya ho."

"Nuksaan toh hua tha! Woh mera favorite suit tha!" Aryan defended himself, but then his voice softened.

He turned his head slightly, kissing the top of her hair.

"Par us din ek fayda bhi hua tha. Us din mujhe pehli baar laga tha ki main tumhare saath puri zindagi bitana chahta hoon. Bina kisi filter ke, bina kisi dikhawe ke. Bas tum, main, aur ye paanch rupaye ki chai."

Anjali looked up at him, her eyes shining. 

"paanch rupaye ki nahi thi Aryan, dus rupaye ki thi!"

"Acha baba,dus rupaye!" He chuckled, pulling her closer into his side. 

"Waise, abhi bhi tumhare hothon pe thodi chai lagi hai..."

Anjali quickly reached up to wipe it with her hand, but Aryan caught her wrist mid-air.

He leaned in, his breath warm against her skin, his eyes dropping to her lips with that familiar, intense gaze.

"Besharam mat bano, Aryan. Chacha dekh rahe hain," she whispered, her heart racing even after all these years.

"Chacha apni chai banane mein busy hain, jaan. Unhe pata hai ki jab ek handsome banda apni gorgeous biwi ko date pe lata hai, toh thoda romance toh banta hai," he murmured, his face just inches from hers.

Anjali blushed a deep crimson, pushing him back playfully.

"Tum sach mein sudhre nahi ho. Char saal mein logon ki akal aati hai, tumhari toh sharaarat aur badh gayi hai."

"Sudhar kar kya karna hai?" Aryan grinned, taking the empty kulhad from her hand and setting it aside.

"Sudhre hue log boring hote hain. Main toh bas wahi Aryan rehna chahta hoon jo tumhe har roz thoda aur pareshaan kare aur thoda aur pyaar."

He stood up, offering his hand to her with a mock-formal bow.

"Chalein, Mrs. Taneja? Ya yahan baith kar purani yaadein hi taaza karni hain? Aage ka plan bhi bohot special hai."

Anjali laughed and held his hand and said "Chaliye,Mr.taneja"

They got up from the wooden bench, their hearts feeling a little lighter, and settled back into the car.