He Stayed Anyway

~2~

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The dining table of the Chavan mansion looked like it was preparing for battle—stacks of invitation cards, gold-trimmed envelopes, guest lists scribbled and re-scribbled. Evening light spilled through the tall windows, warm but unable to soften the tension in the air.

Rishika practically bounced in her chair as she tied the last ribbon on the engagement invite. "I can't wait to send these out! Everyone will be so surprised," she chirped, eyes shining with self-satisfied excitement.

Sonal and Vikram exchanged a quick, practiced smile—the kind tired parents use when pretending everything is perfect. They straightened their backs, voices warm, trying to show both their daughters still held equal places in their hearts.

Vikram straightened the list in his hand as if it were a stubborn shirt collar. "Alright, team Chavan, suno (listen). Invitations first, chaos later. Reeva will handle neighbours. Rishika, you take colleagues and office friends. Sonal and I will cover the relatives. Simple, sorted, painless."

Sonal nodded, then immediately drifted to the real battlefield. "Haan, invites thik hai... but food ka kya? (invites are okay, but what about the food?) Engagement without good snacks is basically a meeting with pretty clothes. We need starters, proper mains, and at least two desserts, warna guests will gossip instead of bless." (or else guests will gossip instead of blessing us)

Vikram sighed, but the corner of his mouth lifted. "Of course. While I'm dividing invites, you're dividing menus."

Rishika pretended to scroll her phone, though her eyes kept darting toward Reeva. "Reeva," she said, voice a little too casual, "tum decorations handle karna (you handle the decorations). You're good at it... aur dulhan ki taraf se someone should make sure everything looks perfect (and from the bride's side, someone should make sure everything looks perfect)."

The sentence landed like a dropped pin.
Sonal paused mid-note. Vikram's brows twitched upward for a second before settling into neutrality. They knew exactly what Rishika was doing but chose, very wisely, not to poke the sleeping storm.

Reeva's fingers tightened around the invitation she was holding. "Me?" she asked, calm on the outside. Inside, her stomach curled. Great. Help decorate the engagement of the man who once knew my heart better than I did. Perfect.
She lifted her chin. "Theek hai. I'll manage." (Alright. I'll manage.)

Rishika forced a bright smile, but it wobbled at the edges. If she breaks down, I'll break twice as fast, she thought. Better she stays busy... better I stay cruel for a minute than helpless forever.

Sonal—ever the emotional radar—glanced between the sisters with gentle suspicion. "Decoration is a big task, beta. Don't take stress" 

Reeva breathed slow. "Stress nahi hoga, maa. Meri behen ko na kaise bolu abh" ("There won't be any stress, Mom. How can I say no when it's my sister?")

Sonal clasped her hands, trying to smooth the mood with a practical note. "Decoration sorted then. Good. Let's keep moving."

Vikram shot Rishika a look, the kind that says you know what you did, and she looked away, suddenly interested in a pen cap.

Reeva dropped her eyes to the list again, her pulse thudding like a stubborn echo. His engagement. My work. That's all.

Rishika swallowed, the tiniest crack slipping through her bravado. I'm hurting her... right? Or just hurting her slower?