The house had finally succumbed to the heavy silence of the night. In the sanctuary of his room, Divyansh leaned against the window frame, the glowing screen of his phone illuminating a face etched with a mixture of exhaustion and contemplation. On the other end of the line, Rishab’s voice crackled with its usual mischievous energy.
"How was your first day after marriage, Mr. Married Man?" Rishab teased.
Divyansh exhaled a long, weary breath. "Don't even ask, bro. From the minute I woke up, har kaam das baar soch ke kar raha hu . I don’t want Avni to get upset with me on the very first day. I don't want her to regret this—to regret me—the morning after the wedding." He paused, his brow furrowing. "I’m trying to make everything easy for her, but Maa... I don’t understand what’s happened to her. She’s acting weird."
"Honestly, man, I felt it during the wedding too," Rishab replied, his tone shifting toward the serious. "Ridha Aunty and that aunt of Avni’s—Aarti, right? Both of them were acting like this marriage was some sort of impending disaster. They kept dropping hints, telling both of you not to go through with it. I don’t know what their deal is."
"Since this morning, Maa has been a different person," Divyansh muttered, pacing the small space. "Strict, punctual, cold. It’s hard to describe, but something is fundamentally off. And before the wedding, she and Aarti Aunty kept harping on how Avni wouldn't be able to take care of me or the house. The woman is a renowned advocate, for God’s sake. If she can navigate a courtroom, she can navigate a kitchen—not that I want her to. I married a life partner, not a caretaker. They’re just obsessed with society’s double standards because she’s older. If the roles were reversed, no one would breathe a word."
Rishab let out a low whistle before pivoting back to his favorite pastime: teasing. "Leave the social commentary for the courtroom, bro. Tell me, what did you do on your first night?"
"Nothing," Divyansh snapped.
"Oh, come on! When I got married, you grilled me for hours. I’m not losing my chance for revenge."
"You really are a bastard, aren't you?" Divyansh said, though a reluctant smirk played on his lips.
Rishab’s laughter was cut short by the sound of a door clicking open. Divyansh straightened up immediately as Avni entered the room. "I’ll call you back," he whispered, tossing the phone onto the bed.
Avni looked exhausted. The heavy, ornate sari that had looked so regal in the morning now seemed to weigh her down like suit of armor. She sank onto the sofa couch with a quiet groan.
"So," Divyansh began, his voice softening as he sat beside her. "How was your first day as the daughter-in-law?"
"Don't ask," she sighed, leaning her head back. "I’ve never been this nervous. I felt like I was walking on eggshells all day. And this outfit... I must have tripped five times today."
"Avni, look at me," Divyansh said firmly. "You don't have to wear these heavy saris every day. Wear what makes you comfortable. And please, stop walking on eggshells. Just be yourself."
She looked at him, her eyes clouded with an anxiety she usually hid behind her professional poise. "It isn't that easy, Divyansh. I don't want to mess this up. I don't want people to look at us and think we’re a misfit, or that I’m not 'good enough' for you."
Divyansh gave a short, incredulous laugh. "Good enough for me? Avni, you’re successful, brilliant, and beautiful. I’m just a total dirtbag by comparison. Who are these 'people' you’re worried about? I don't care about their whispers. We chose this. Let them talk."
His words lingered in the room like the final, resonant note of a song. Avni looked at him—really looked at him—stripping away the title of 'new bride' and seeing only the man who had stood by her. There was something disarming about his defiance, the way he dismissed the weight of log kya kahenge as if it were mere background noise.
A small smile finally broke through her fatigue. "You’re not a dirtbag," she said softly.
"Debatable," he shot back, hand over his heart. "My college transcript would like a word."
The light laugh that followed was the first genuine sound she’d made all day. Her shoulders dropped. The invisible armor began to crack.
"It’s just... everything feels like a test," she admitted, her voice dropping. "The way I walk, the way I hold a teacup. I feel like I'm being constantly evaluated."
Divyansh leaned back, his gaze steady. "You know what I think? I think you’re trying to pass an exam that no one actually set."
She blinked, surprised.
"Maa has her expectations, society has its nonsense, and then there’s this third, invisible examiner in your head who’s stricter than both of them," he said gently. "That one? She needs to chill."
Avni looked down at her hands, fidgeting with her dupatta. "It’s not that simple."
"I know. But it doesn’t have to be this hard, either." He paused, his expression turning guarded. "Did Maa say something to you?"
The question hung in the air, fragile as glass. Avni hesitated. "She didn't say anything... directly. But her tone, her face... it felt like she was watching for a mistake. Like she’s already decided who I am."
Divyansh’s jaw tightened. "She’s never been like this. Strict, sure, but not... cold."
"Maybe she's just worried," Avni offered, her innate sense of fairness kicking in.
"About what? That her son married someone competent?" He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I just hate that you feel like a stranger in your own home. Our home."
The word our landed with a quiet, grounding weight. Avni felt the shift in the room—the transition from a house of strangers to a shared sanctuary.
"Give it time," she said, her voice regaining its strength. "She needs to adjust too. This is new for everyone."
Divyansh studied her, marvelling at her composure. "You're handling this better than I am."
"Of course," she teased, a glint of her old self returning. "Senior hoon na (I am your senior, after all)."
He groaned loudly. "You are never going to let that go, are you?"
"Never."
The tension didn't vanish, but it became manageable. Outside, the world was asleep, oblivious to the fact that in this room, two people were navigating the messy, unscripted reality of a life together.
Divyansh leaned forward. "One rule?"
"Hm?"
"No walking on eggshells in this room," he insisted. "Normal walking only."
Avni smiled. "Deal."
"And second rule," he added, a grin spreading across his face.
"There’s more?"
"Yeah. If you trip again, I’m allowed to laugh. Five times in one day is a statistical marvel, Avni."
She grabbed a decorative cushion and hurled it at his head. "Shut up!"
He caught it mid-air, his laughter filling the space. For the first time since the ceremony, the room didn't feel like a stage or a courtroom.
It felt like a beginning.
******************
The first day ended without drama
Thanks for reading
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