[FF] Stealing the Table, Owning the Night ~ AaRhuv SS ~ Chapter 2

AN: Hey Friends! I started writing again this week, and I just couldn't stay away from AaRhuv! 💖 Excited to share more stories with you all. Thank you for reading and keeping the love alive! Share your thoughts in the comments below! 👇✨

Chapter 1: The Reservation

The Tandon dining room was relatively quiet as the family settled into their seats, waiting for the final dishes. Aarambhi walked out of the kitchen and carefully set a steaming bowl of daal on the table.

"Oh... my... goodness."

DC’s dramatic voice cut through the room like a blade, followed by slow, mocking applause. Everyone froze.

Leaning casually against the dining room column with his arms crossed, DC sported a dangerously sharp, petty smirk. He looked Aarambhi up and down like she was walking a high-fashion runway.

"Dr. Aarambhi! You look absolutely beautiful tonight," DC announced, intentionally projecting his voice so it bounced off the walls.

The dining table went dead silent. A heavy, public compliment like that felt like a bomb dropping. Doctor Sunil’s spoon paused halfway to his plate, his eyebrows shooting up.

"I mean, wow! Amazing!" DC continued, completely unbothered by the family's suffocating awkwardness.

Aarambhi shot DC a massive, warning glare. Are you crazy? Stop! Her eyes screamed. "DC sir, please," she muttered under her breath, setting the bowl down with a sharp thud. "This is how I always look."

"Please, don't be so modest. You are gorgeous tonight," DC said, ignoring her entirely as he stepped fully into the room. "Maybe it's the light hitting you at the perfect angle. Or did you do something different to your hair?"

The Tandons looked from him to her, trying to gauge the room's temperature.

“I know what it is,” DC snapped his fingers, stepping closer to her. “You’re ready for your big, romantic date night with Vishwas. Right?”

Aarambhi’s frustration instantly dissolved into pure confusion. Across the table, Nandita and Harry exchanged bewildered glances, mouthing the word 'Date?' to one another.

"Date... night?" Aarambhi echoed, caught entirely off guard.

"Hey, Vihaan buddy, doesn't your mom look like a superstar right now? Tell your dad he's a lucky man!"

"Yes! Mom looks like a queen!" Vihaan cheered loudly from his chair. "Dad, look!"

Right on cue, Vishwas walked into the dining room. Unlike Aarambhi, he was already dressed for a lavish, high-end dinner—wearing a premium designer jacket, his hair styled to perfection. His eyes were glued to his phone screen, his thumbs flying across the keyboard as he aggressively texted, totally clueless.

DC’s smirk widened. "Oh, look! The busy doctor finally graces us with his presence!"

Vishwas snapped his head up. Seeing DC standing so close to Aarambhi, he tightened his jaw. "What, son?" he asked, confused.

"Look at Mom, doesn't she look like a queen?" Vihaan beamed.

Realizing his father and the rest of the family were watching, Vishwas forced a plastic, PR-ready smile. "Aarambhi… yes, she looks like she always does."

"No," DC interjected, his voice dripping with faux-admiration. "She looks like she's ready for her date night with you, Dr. Vishwas."

Vishwas’s eyes flared with sudden fury. Date night? How the hell did he find out?

Before he could answer, the sharp click-clack of heels echoed, and Avantika glided into the room. She wore a sleek, stunning designer outfit, fully expecting to walk out the door with Vishwas. The second she saw the family staring, her smug smile vanished.

Looking from Avantika’s stunned face to DC’s amused, glittering eyes, Aarambhi instantly understood. The reservation was meant for Avantika. A wave of disgust washed over her, but instead of blowing her cover, Aarambhi kept quiet and watched the play unfold.

DC turned his gaze slowly toward Avantika. "Oh, Avantika! Wow, look at you. Dressed up too?!"

Caught in the headlights, Avantika swallowed hard. "I... yes. I have a private event tonight."

"Wow, is everyone going somewhere special tonight? Avantika has a private event, and Dr. Vishwas and Dr. Aarambhi have a special date. Wow!"

DC feigned a dramatic gasp, looking at Avantika’s shocked face. “Wait… oh my god. I am so sorry. Did I just spoil the surprise? I passed Vishwas in the hallway earlier, and he was on the phone confirming a premium reservation for a nice dinner for two at 8:00 PM. I mean, it’s at The Grand Pavilion—the kind of spot where ordinary people wait months for a table. I thought he told you, Dr. Aarambhi. Don't tell me he didn't tell you?"

Clenching his jaw so hard that a vein popped in his temple, Vishwas forced a loving smile. He stepped toward Aarambhi, grabbing her shoulders firmly to put on a grand show for the audience. "Actually, DC... you did spoil it. Aarambhi, I know we’ve had some really rough times lately, so I wanted to surprise you tonight."

Aarambhi’s entire body went rigid. She cringed under his touch, her eyes darting straight to DC with pure panic and disgust. She did not want to go to dinner with the man who had covered up their son's kidnapping, and DC's little stunt was putting her in a corner.

Across the room, Avantika looked ready to combust. She shot a lethal, burning glare at Vishwas that screamed, *'Fix this. Now!'* before turning on her heel and marching out to the driveway.

Vishwas was internally frantic, desperately seeking an escape route. Right on cue, his phone began vibrating violently with Avantika’s caller ID. He casually silenced it and stepped away from Aarambhi. "You know what, though... let me check this. It might be an emergency from the hospital. If duty calls, we might just have to cancel the dinner—"

"Oh, come on, Dr. Vishwas, that is not fair!" DC interrupted loudly, stepping between Vishwas and Aarambhi and physically breaking his hold on her. "Look at her! Aarambhi is dressed beautifully."

To emphasize his point, DC gently caught Aarambhi by the fingertips and spun her in a slow, graceful circle, showing the family her everyday saree.

"What are you doing?" Aarambhi hissed under her breath, her heart hammering against her ribs.

"She looks breathtaking," DC insisted, his eyes dancing with pure mischief. "You can’t let all that effort go to waste, Doc. But then again, you never have time for your family, do you? Always working, always neglecting this beautiful wife of yours."

DC leaned in slightly, his voice dropping into a dangerous, low rumble meant only for Vishwas. "You better watch out, Dr. Vishwas. If you keep ignoring her like this, she just might end up with someone else one day. Someone who actually knows what she's worth."

Vishwas’s teeth ground together. He wanted to swing at DC, but he couldn't—DC was the hospital's primary investor. He held all the cards. "I take care of my wife just fine," Vishwas muttered through clenched teeth.

DC looked over at Vihaan. "Hey buddy, wouldn't your mom be super disappointed if your dad canceled date night right now?"

Vihaan bounced up, his little face falling. "Yes! Mom looks beautiful. Dad, you can't cancel!"

Sensing the suffocating, dangerous tension, Aarambhi stepped forward to defuse it. "It's okay, really... Vihaan, DC sir, it's fine. We don't have to go. Vishwas has a lot of responsibilities—"

"No need to stress yourself out, Doc. I already have The Grand Pavilion on the line," DC interjected, pulling out his phone before Vishwas could react.

Vishwas froze as DC spoke directly into his receiver with a victorious smirk. "Yes, hi, I'm calling about the reservation under Dr. Vishwas Tandon for 8:00 PM. He has a medical emergency, so please switch the reservation name to mine—Dhruv Chawla. Yes, make it extra special, and please add one more seat to the table. Thank you."

DC hung up and beamed at the stunned family. "Problem solved! I can easily step in where you can't handle family things, Vishwas. I’ll just take both Aarambhi and Vihaan out myself!"

"Yay! Restaurant night with Mom and DC!" Vihaan cheered, sprinting up the stairs to change.

Vishwas stood rooted to the spot, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. He was entirely trapped.

"DC sir, wait..." Aarambhi panicked slightly, looking at the family's stunned faces. "I'm really not dressed appropriately for a place like that… in this saree?"

"Are you kidding me? You look perfect," DC assured her warmly. "But hey, you still have five minutes to change if you want. Doctor Sunil, you agree, right? I'm just stepping in so Dr. Vishwas can dedicate himself to his medical duties."

Doctor Sunil looked at his furious elder son, sighed deeply, and nodded. "Go ahead, Aarambhi. Take Vihaan out. Don't let the evening go to waste."

A sudden rush of satisfaction washed over Aarambhi. She turned and headed to her room to change quickly. The Tandon family began to disperse from the table, leaving Vishwas standing completely alone as his phone buzzed frantically in his hand.

DC walked past him toward the hallway, stopping just long enough to lean in and drop one final whisper right into Vishwas's ear.

"Looks like you successfully freed up your evening for the hospital, Doc. Go ahead and enjoy your night shift."

With a sharp, petty wink, DC walked off, leaving Vishwas fuming in the ruins of his own plans.

---

Ten minutes later, Vishwas was still standing in the living room, aggressively arguing with a hysterical Avantika over the phone when footsteps sounded from the staircase.

Vihaan reached the bottom of the stairs first.

"Whoa." His eyes went straight toward the hallway. "DC! You look like a superhero!"

DC stepped out from the corridor, laughing softly as he adjusted his jacket. He had changed into a completely monochromatic black suit, the tailored jacket sitting sharply across his broad shoulders over a black shirt with the top three buttons undone. No tie, no unnecessary accessories, just pure, dark elegance that made his usual charm look infinitely more dangerous.

"Do I?" DC asked with an amused smile.

"Yes! A really cool one!" Vihaan exclaimed.

Then, the soft rustle of chiffon echoed down the steps. DC turned toward the staircase, and his breath caught in his throat for a fraction of a second. The playful smirk vanished entirely from his face.

Aarambhi was coming down the stairs.

She hadn't simply changed into another everyday saree. She wore the red designer chiffon saree she had bought two years ago for their anniversary—the one that had sat untouched in the back of her closet after their plans fell apart at Vishwas' convenience. The fabric caught the warm lighting as she descended, the deep crimson bringing a radiant richness to her complexion. Her hair fell in soft, voluminous waves around her shoulders, and for once, she carried herself without worrying about who was watching.

She looked confident. Breathtaking.

"Mom! Look at DC!" Vihaan chimed in, breaking the stillness.

Aarambhi’s eyes traveled over DC’s new look, taking in the black suit before she could stop herself. A subtle, genuine smile touched her lips.

"You look... very nice, DC sir," she said softly.

DC’s gaze softened into something strikingly warm. "Very nice?"

Realizing she had given him an opening, Aarambhi caught herself quickly. "Yes. The suit suits you."

"Coming from you, Doctor, I'll take that as the ultimate compliment," DC murmured, a quiet smile playing at his lips. He looked her up and down, dropping his voice just enough for her to hear. "And you look breathtaking."

Aarambhi shot him a quick warning look, though it held no real bite. "DC sir..."

"What? I'm simply returning the compliment," DC grinned playfully. He stepped forward and held out his arm. "Ready to own the night, Dr. Aarambhi?"

Aarambhi looked at his offered arm, then glanced at Vishwas, who stared at them in absolute, helpless rage. For the first time in ten years, she didn't feel afraid of the fallout. She placed her hand lightly on DC's arm.

"Ready," she said clearly.

As they walked out the front door, DC's headlights lit the driveway—perfectly illuminating Avantika in the passenger seat of Vishwas’s car, staring through the glass in absolute horror as the trio glided toward DC's luxury SUV.

Back in the living room, Vishwas stood frozen, his phone slipping an inch from his ear as the front door clicked shut.

Buzz.

A sudden notification flashed across his phone screen.

An unknown number. No message. No explanation. Just a single image file.

With shaking fingers, Vishwas tapped it open.

The photograph had been taken inside The Grand Pavilion's private dining office that afternoon. It showed the restaurant's reservation ledger for tonight's 8:00 PM slot.

Under the 8:00 PM reservation, Dr. Vishwas Tandon's name hadn't just been crossed out. Beneath it, printed cleanly in bold ink, stamped, and approved, was the replacement:

DHRUV CHAWLA

PAID IN FULL — THREE DAYS PRIOR

Vishwas stared at the glowing screen, his phone trembling in his grasp as the blood drained entirely from his face.

DC hadn't intercepted his reservation tonight. He had set this entire trap three days ago.

-----------------------

TO BE CONTINUED…

Chapter 2: Aarambhi Appreciation Day

The glass double doors of The Grand Pavilion swung open, revealing an opulent dining room bathed in warm amber light. Tucked into a far corner, a small live ensemble—violin, cello, flute, and soft piano—played a gentle instrumental arrangement, filling the air with an elegant melody.

The head host stepped forward immediately, his eyes brightening as he recognized the party.

"Mr. Chawla. We have been expecting you. Welcome," the host greeted him with a smooth bow before turning his attention directly to the woman and child beside him. "Dr. Aarambhi, welcome. And Mr. Vihaan, it is a pleasure to meet you."

Vihaan's face lit up when the host greeted him by name. He straightened his shoulders to stand taller, clearly delighted to be treated like an important guest, and Aarambhi couldn't help smiling at his reaction.

"Mr. Chawla has arranged everything," the host added warmly. "Right this way. Follow me."

Aarambhi’s brow raised slightly as her eyes darted to DC. "Everything?"

DC simply offered a quiet, enigmatic smile.

Vihaan, overjoyed by the grand surroundings, reached out and took both their hands—Aarambhi’s in his right, DC’s in his left—and pulled them along as the host led them to their table.

As they arrived, Aarambhi’s eyes fell on a stunning arrangement at the center of the crisp linen table: fresh lilies and deep red roses in an immaculate glass vase.

Aarambhi looked around the dining room. The candlelight. The flowers. The live music. The carefully arranged table. For a fleeting moment, she remembered another dinner.

Her tenth anniversary.

She had spent that entire day believing Vishwas had planned something special. She had dressed for him, waited for him, and foolishly, happily believed he had decided to make her feel special. Only to discover the evening she thought was meant for her had never been for her at all.

Tonight, the same kind of evening she'd once waited for had finally arrived. Only this time, she wasn't waiting for Vishwas to notice her.

DC gestured lightly toward the arrangement. "And these are for you."

Aarambhi instinctively glanced behind her, turning back in confusion. "These are for me?"

"Yes," DC said simply as he moved to pull out her chair.

She waited. For a joke. For a teasing remark. For him to lighten the moment. He didn't. He simply stood there and let her have it.

"Why?" she asked softly, sitting down.

"Because I wanted you to have them," he said, leaning over to whisper gently near her ear.

She stared at the bouquet. She didn't know what to do with something given to her simply because someone had wanted to make her happy. For as long as she could remember, affection in her life had felt like a transaction—something she had to earn, or something given only after she had already been hurt. Receiving something purely to be celebrated felt entirely foreign.

She caught herself comparing the two men and quickly pushed the thought away. But the contrast was already settling under her skin.

"DC sir..." She touched one of the delicate petals. "It's not my birthday."

"It doesn't have to be," DC said softly, settling into his chair. "Today is Aarambhi Appreciation Day."

Aarambhi let out a breathless chuckle. "That doesn't exist."

DC leaned back with effortless cool. "It does now. Right, buddy?"

"Absolutely!" Vihaan declared instantly from his chair, making both adults smile.

"It's on my calendar," DC continued, his tone light yet laced with an undeniable sincerity. "And now it's permanently embedded in my mind. Every year, we're celebrating the woman who somehow manages to be a brilliant doctor, an impossible pain in the neck, and the best mother in the world."

Aarambhi’s hand stilled on the edge of the glass vase. "Well... thank you."

The waiter approached smoothly, bowing slightly. "Good evening. May I offer you a bottle of vintage champagne to start?"

"No, thank you," Aarambhi said politely.

DC glanced at her, then at the waiter without missing a beat. "We'll have juice for all three of us."

Aarambhi offered him a small, appreciative glance. He didn't press, didn't demand, and didn't make her feel awkward for declining—he simply adapted.

As their starters arrived, DC rested his elbows on the table and looked across at her. "You know what's funny?" DC asked quietly.

She looked at him. "What?"

"Everyone keeps talking about what you've done for everyone else." His gaze flicked to Vihaan, then back to her. "I wanted tonight to be about what everyone seems to forget."

"What's that?"

"You."

The answer was so simple that it left her strangely quiet.

"Well..." She looked up, sweeping her eyes over the elegant dining room. "This is nice. Aarambhi Appreciation Day."

A small, playful smirk touched her lips. "Although... I didn't get the whole day."

DC raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"You called it Aarambhi Appreciation Day," she pointed out, leaning forward. "We only have the evening. So technically... you two owe me."

DC turned slowly toward Vihaan. "She's right."

"We owe Mom!" Vihaan cheered.

"This is becoming expensive," DC muttered with mock distress, shaking his head. "What should we do next, buddy?"

"Dance!" Vihaan bounced in his seat.

Aarambhi’s eyes widened. "Oh, no—"

"Excellent idea," DC immediately agreed.

Before Aarambhi could object, the live ensemble shifted into a lively, upbeat rhythm. Vihaan grabbed his mother's hand and pulled her toward the small, polished floor near the ensemble. DC stepped up right beside them, striking a dance pose that sent Vihaan into fits of giggles.

Aarambhi couldn't stop the laughter that burst from her lips.

DC caught her eye and pointed at her with a gentle smile. "There. That's the face I've been trying to get all evening."

Aarambhi's laughter softened. Something about the way he said it made her look at him a second longer than she intended. He was smiling at her—not the teasing smile she knew so well, but something warmer. She looked away first.

Before she could dwell on it, the music slowed. The lights dimmed slightly, casting a soft glow across the floor as the band settled into a gentle melody.

"And now," the violinist announced smoothly, "something a little slower for anyone who'd like to join us."

Seeing other couples step onto the floor, Aarambhi immediately stopped, smoothing her red chiffon saree as she prepared to walk back to their table.

DC stepped into her path, catching her wrist before she could take a full step away. His grip was light, barely holding her, but firm enough to pause her momentum.

"DC sir," she said softly, looking up. "We aren't a couple."

DC’s expression remained quiet, completely stripped of its usual teasing edge. He released her wrist and offered his hand, palm up. "It is just a dance. It's your night. Own it."

Aarambhi looked at his open palm, then back to his steady eyes. Slowly, she laid her hand in his.

He drew her forward into the opening step of the routine, guiding her through a smooth turn beneath his raised arm. She followed the motion instinctively, her feet matching his tempo. As she completed the rotation and came back toward him, DC caught her before her momentum could pull her past. His right hand settled cleanly against the small of her back over the soft drape of her red chiffon saree.

He had noticed the saree the moment she walked down the stairs at the Tandon house. Red was his favorite color, and it was his favorite color on her. As he held her in the opening stance, he wondered briefly if she had chosen it tonight with any intention.

With a measured push, he turned her out into an open, extended-arm movement. Her red pallu swept through the air between them before he drew her back in a synchronized cadence. This time, instead of pulling her face-to-face, he guided her through a tight turn that brought her back directly against his chest.

Aarambhi’s steps paused for a fraction of a second, but DC’s movement was fluid, keeping them both in motion. His left hand locked with hers in front, while his right hand remained steady at her waist, guiding her into the gentle sway of the choreography.

He was standing close behind her, his chest lightly skimming her shoulder blades as they moved together. As he turned his head slightly with the step, his nose grazed the loose waves of her hair. He caught the subtle, intimate scent that always belonged to her—soft jasmine blended with her clean, familiar shampoo.

His eyes rested on the exposed curve of her neck. He looked at the soft skin, then down to her lips as she looked over her shoulder to match his lead. For a single, dangerous moment, DC imagined leaning down those remaining inches and pressing his lips against the curve of her neck.

He didn't act on it. He kept his posture controlled, his hands disciplined against her waist, letting only the warmth of his breath touch her skin as he guided her through the next turn.

Aarambhi felt the heat of his breath brush against her neck. She could feel how close his face was, yet he didn't crowd her. As he turned her again, bringing her back around to face him, her eyes met his.

He wasn't smirking. He was simply looking at her, his dark eyes holding an intensity that made her breath catch.

This was DC. Her friend. The man who had spent months annoying her, arguing with her, teasing her, and somehow always appearing whenever she needed help.

DC slowly raised his hand to her shoulder, his fingers trailing with deliberate lightness down her sleeve, across her forearm, and to her fingertips before their hands met again. They stepped together in perfect unison, moving forward and back, locked in a continuous, visual rhythm.

She had touched him before—a hand on his arm during a laugh, a brief touch on the shoulder in passing. But none of it had ever felt like this. This was a sustained, unbroken contact that demanded her complete awareness.

As they stepped through another synchronized turn, she caught him looking at her again. Not at her eyes. Her lips. And this time, she knew she hadn't imagined it.

She became acutely conscious of the hand settled securely at her waist, the familiar, rich scent of his cologne surrounding them both. It was the same cologne she smelled almost daily at the Tandon house. Over the past few months, that scent had come to mean something specific to her. Whenever DC was around, she knew she wouldn't have to fight alone.

Now, with his hand at her waist and his cologne surrounding her, that familiar reassurance shifted into something far more intimate.

And yet, she didn't pull away.

For the first time in months, Aarambhi didn't feel the need to brace herself against the person standing this close to her. She simply wanted to let go.

So she did. She let her body follow his lead through the final, slow rotation of the dance.

The violin's final note faded into the restaurant's quiet hum.

The music stopped, but neither of them moved immediately. DC loosened his hold, giving her space to step back if she chose, but his hand stayed lightly on her waist.

Aarambhi stood there in the quiet space between them. She realized she hadn't pulled away. She had stayed in his arms until the very end. Being this close to him didn't make her feel trapped or anxious.

It made her feel safe.

"Mumma!"

Vihaan's loud, excited voice broke through the quiet, his footsteps pattering across the polished floor toward them.

Aarambhi blinked, the spell breaking as she stepped back and turned to face her son, her hands naturally coming together in front of her saree as the familiar world rushed back in.

"You were so good, Mumma!"

She smiled and stroked his hair. "Thank you, my love."

But even while Vihaan hugged her waist, her eyes lifted once. She found DC watching her. He looked away first. Aarambhi's smile faded slightly into quiet contemplation. *What was happening?*

They returned to the table, where they were served dinner and dessert. By the time the final plates were cleared, Vihaan began letting out a series of huge, unrestrained yawns, rubbing his eyes sluggishly.

DC looked over at him with an affectionate smirk. "You getting tired, buddy?"

Vihaan gave a massive yawn, his eyelids heavy. "Maybe."

Aarambhi immediately smiled, soft and fond. "I think that's our sign. It's getting late." She turned toward DC, offering a warm, grateful look. "DC sir, thank you. Really. Tonight has been wonderful. But I think we should probably get Vihaan home."

DC looked at Vihaan. Vihaan looked at DC. A subtle, knowing exchange passed between them that Aarambhi didn't miss.

"What?" she asked, looking between them suspiciously.

Neither answered right away. Vihaan suddenly sat up a little straighter, puffing out his chest. "But it's your day! We still have five hours until midnight!"

Aarambhi stared at him. "Five?"

Vihaan nodded proudly and confidently.

DC looked at his watch. "Apparently, we're operating on Vihaan Standard Time tonight."

"Exactly!" Vihaan cheered.

Aarambhi laughed softly. "It's nine o'clock."

"See?" Vihaan said. "Five hours!"

DC nodded solemnly. "His mathematics is questionable. His priorities are excellent."

"DC sir!"

"What? He's right. It's still Aarambhi Appreciation Day." He looked at her, his voice softening. "And I'm not finished yet."

"Uncle Raj is taking me home!" Vihaan declared enthusiastically.

Aarambhi's smile vanished instantly. "Uncle Raj?" She turned back to DC, her brow furrowing. "But Uncle Raj is at home."

"Not anymore," a cheerful voice answered from behind her.

Aarambhi spun around in her seat. Raj stood right behind her chair, wearing a wide, conspiratorial grin.

Vihaan immediately jumped out of his seat. "Uncle Raj!"

Raj held out his hand, chuckling. "Come on, troublemaker. Your ride is waiting."

Vihaan grabbed Raj's hand, but before leaving, he turned around and pointed a finger at Aarambhi. "Don't leave before the surprise!"

Aarambhi looked between Raj, Vihaan, and DC in sheer disbelief. "What are you all doing?"

Raj laughed out loud. "Apparently, I'm an accomplice now."

DC raised both hands in mock surrender. "In my defense, Vihaan was very difficult to keep quiet."

"I wasn't difficult!" Vihaan protested loudly.

"You nearly told her twice," DC pointed out.

"But I didn't!"

Aarambhi shook her head, a burst of genuine laughter bubbling up despite herself.

Vihaan threw his arms around her neck. "Happy Appreciation Day, Mumma."

She kissed his forehead tenderly. "Go on, sweetie."

Vihaan then ran over to give DC a quick hug around the waist. "Don't forget the surprise."

"I won't," DC promised softly, patting his back.

Raj gave DC a knowing look. "Good luck."

"Thanks, Raj," DC said, nodding.

As Raj and Vihaan walked toward the main exit, a quiet atmosphere settled over the table. Aarambhi looked across at DC. "DC sir... what is going on?"

DC stood up and buttoned his jacket smoothly. He extended his hand to her. "Come with me."

She looked at his hand, swallowed quietly, and took it.

DC led her through a secluded hallway into an elegant VIP lounge. The room was dimly lit, quiet, and scented subtly with fresh orchids.

DC returned moments later with a sleek garment bag and placed it on a valet stand.

"What's that?" Aarambhi asked.

"Something I thought you might want."

"DC sir..."

"Open it."

She unzipped the bag and froze. White. Crisp. Pristine. A doctor's lab coat.

Her fingers touched the fabric before resting on the dark blue embroidery over the breast pocket:

DR. AARAMBHI CHAUDHARY

Her breath caught. "No."

"Turn around," DC said gently.

She did. DC lifted the coat from the hanger and carefully settled it over her shoulders. His movements were deliberate and respectful. His fingers briefly straightened the collar near her neck before he stepped back.

"Look."

Aarambhi turned toward the mirror. She moved slightly in front of the glass, watching the crisp white coat move over her red saree. She slipped one hand into the pocket—a gesture so natural that her eyes filled instantly.

The woman in the reflection was someone she hadn't seen in years. Not Vishwas's wife. Not just Vihaan's mother. Not the woman who kept everyone else's world intact while putting her own aside.

Dr. Aarambhi Chaudhary.

She touched the embroidered letters of her name. "I thought she was gone."

DC's voice came quietly behind her. "She wasn't."

Aarambhi looked at him through the mirror. "You really think so?"

"I don't think so." He met her eyes in the reflection. "I know."

A single tear escaped her lash line.

"Your residency is finished," DC added softly. "Now you get to decide what comes next."

She stared at her reflection, at the coat, at her name. And the realization arrived without warning, clear and absolute.

She could work. She could provide for Vihaan. She could build a life of her own. She didn't have to stay out of fear or dependency. She had always been capable; she had simply forgotten how to stand on her own feet.

Aarambhi turned around and stepped forward, wrapping her arms around DC's neck.

DC froze briefly before his arms settled around her waist—steady, protective, but careful not to press the advantage. He didn't turn it into something it wasn't. He simply held her.

"Congratulations, Doctor," he whispered.

Aarambhi closed her eyes. "Thank you."

A second later, realization struck, and she pulled back, her cheeks warming. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," DC said immediately.

She looked in the mirror one last time. For the first time in years, she stood in a doctor's coat without asking permission to exist.

---

They returned to their table in the main dining room. The restaurant was nearly empty now, the live ensemble playing low, ambient tones. Aarambhi sat holding a glass of ice water DC had requested for her, the crisp white coat draped carefully over the chair beside her.

For a while, they just talked. They talked about medicine, her old exams, Vihaan, and the future she had thought was closed to her. They laughed without reservation, the formal tension melting into quiet, uninterrupted companionship.

Aarambhi set her glass down and looked across at him with a soft smile. "You know, you're very strange."

DC smirked, resting his chin on his hand. "That's your appreciation-day review?"

"I'm serious."

"That's concerning."

A light laugh bubbled up from her chest. Then her smile softened into something quieter. "You remember everything. Things I say. You remembered my residency."

"You talked about it enough," DC said casually.

Aarambhi looked down at her hands. "I thought nobody was listening."

"I was."

The simplicity of his answer left her speechless.

She looked up and met his eyes. "You're very different from Vishwas."

"You shouldn't have to ask someone to treat you well," DC said evenly.

A sudden wave of self-consciousness washed over Aarambhi. She gave a small, quiet laugh and shifted slightly in her seat. "I shouldn't have said that."

"Why?"

She looked at him, her heart thumping against her ribs. "Because you're my friend."

DC held her gaze for a long, unreadable moment.

"I know."

He didn't challenge her, push, or try to bridge the distance. He simply gave her space.

Aarambhi gathered her things, holding the bouquet of lilies and roses in one arm and carefully cradling her lab coat over the other.

She stood up, looking at DC with a breathless, quiet smile. "So... what happens now?"

DC stood beside her, his dark eyes sparkling with a quiet, knowing warmth. He stepped toward the exit, glancing over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow.

"Now," DC said smoothly, "we go see what Vihaan spent three days setting up."

---------

TO BE CONTINUED...