cover design ~ Sarcy
Happy... Imlie
The Tripathi household was abuzz with activity today. Rupi and Nishant were busy touching up a few last minute decorations in the living room, while Sundar rummaged through the kitchen cabinets for tableware that would be ideal for the night. Aparna was firing off questions to Rupi about Aditya’s whereabouts as her husband and Badke Kaka laughed at her predicament while they sat on the couch with Radha.
After a difficult few weeks, things had finally started to brighten up for the family. Their son, Aditya Kumar Tripathi, who had been falsely incriminated in an abetment to suicide case for publishing inflammatory statements against a politician’s son, had been exonerated of all charges after video evidence of his colleagues tampering with his article had surfaced. The true culprits had been taken into custody and Aditya was let go. While there was no clear information to that effect, the family believed that Imlie, Aditya’s ex-wife, was the one who had brought forth the evidence incriminating the culprits and exonerating him. It was also Imlie’s 20th birthday today and as a token of thanks, the family had invited her over for a family dinner. Aditya had also prepared a little birthday surprise for her. If things went well, the family should have another reason to celebrate before the night was over. The entire house was decked up for the birthday party. The Tripathis had also invited the Rathore ladies, Narmada and Arpita, to the little event as they were Imlie’s new family in Delhi.
“Rupi,” Aparna called out excitedly to her niece, “Why don't you call Adi and ask him where are Imlie and him?”
“Chachi, relax, Adi bhai said he wants to meet Imlie privately, first, and then, they will both come here together. Who knows, maybe they’re already together!” Rupi laughed.
-×-×-
Aditya decided to do a final check on the preparations he had made for his plan for Imlie’s arrival tonight.
Fairy lights – Check.
Music – Check.
Ring – Check.
He just needed to do a timing check to ensure everything worked fine when Imlie reached. The cake had arrived a while ago, dinner was set, now all that remained to make the day memorable was a ‘yes’ from Imlie.
Aditya took a deep breath and inhaled the cool night air. He still couldn't believe that Imlie had finally agreed to meet him after all these weeks. Maybe, it was the recent incident that had caused her to soften towards him. When he had been arrested in this case, he had thought this was the final straw in the sequence of endless miseries that life had been bestowing on him since Imlie had walked out of his life. He had believed this, literally, to be the end of his world – after all, his boss, the Aryan Singh Rathore, was backing this case. And with his contacts and resources, he would ensure that Aditya Kumar Tripathi never breathed free again.
Though Aditya had met Aryan only after the latter joined his office at Bhaskar Times as the CEO, the duo actually had history. Four years ago, some of Aditya’s news pieces had resulted in inciting the workers at Rathore industries, who were protesting to get their demands accepted, and had resulted in Aryan’s brother-in-law being killed by the angry mob. This situation that Aditya found himself caught in now was the perfect opportunity for Aryan to exact his revenge. And Aryan would have succeeded in wreaking hell in his life had Imlie not intervened. Imlie being Imlie, she had fearlessly gone head-to-head with Aryan, and managed to emerge victorious. She had attained a feat hardly anyone could – bending Aryan Singh Rathore to her wishes.
Aditya smirked. What he wouldn’t have given to see the expression on Aryan Singh Rathore’s face when Imlie had brought him down. And to think the man had been harbouring hopes of pursuing Imlie. If only he had known Imlie, he wouldn’t have had such absurd ideas. The Imlie that Aditya knew believed marriage and relationships to be too sacrosanct to be jumped in and out of on a whim. Though she had walked out on Aditya and their marriage of a year because she had been angry with him, he knew that today was his opportunity to finally win her back and win her back he would. He just hoped that he hadn’t been so stupidly impulsive as to divorce her so easily, and promptly marry Malini. But that was all water under the bridge now as he was no longer with Malini. He was working with his lawyer to finalize his divorce with Malini.
Aditya checked the time on his phone again. It was past 10 pm. Imlie had said she’d be late, but she should have been here by now. He sent her a quick text.
Where are you, Imlie? I can barely wait.
Almost there, came the prompt reply.
He smiled, pocketing his phone, and decided to go check the light and music timing as he waited for Imlie to arrive.
-×-×-
Aryan Singh Rathore’s car glided to a smooth halt outside the Tripathi house and the next second, Imlie jumped out and was striding towards the entrance to the house.
“Imleeyy!” Aryan called out as he stepped out and locked the car.
“Imlie, wait up, will you?” he said again as he followed close behind.
“What is it, ABP?” An annoyed Imlie replied, as she spun around to face him.
“What’s with the cranky face?” Aryan asked. “Is that how you intend to attend your own birthday party?”
“It’s just a family dinner,” replied Imlie, in measured tones.
“On the eve of your birthday,” he replied wryly.
“Remind me again, why are you here?” she mocked.
“Because you invited me,” he shrugged coolly.
“And why would I do that?” she drawled, feigning cluelessness.
“Could it be because I'm your husband and you want to announce it to the family tonight?” Aryan tossed back.
“Ugh! The stupid marriage,” she grumbled.
Aryan rolled his eyes at her theatrics, “This was a deal, Imlie, so don’t pretend to be a martyr. No one forced you into it.”
“Did you really leave me a choice, akkadbagge?” She asked, her eyes reflecting the hurt.
“Yes. The choice to say a big, fat, emphatic NO,” Aryan replied, refusing to be guilt-tripped by her. The girl had a saviour-complex the size of the universe where her ex-in-laws were concerned. Someone really needed to show her the mirror, and because no one in her tiny circle chose to do it, the task fell on his shoulders. “But that word probably doesn’t exist in your vocabulary.”
“Yes, and then Aditya sir would have been prosecuted,” she lamented.
“That would have been his karma, Imlie. Besides, what lack of choice are you talking about? You and I both know that if you set your mind to it, you can prove Mr. Tripathi innocent – without my help.” In the three odd months that Aryan had known Imlie, if there was one thing that he could vouch for about her, it was her ability to be annoyingly persistent at a task she put her mind to. Nothing and no one could then deter her. A trait that left him annoyed and awed in equal measure.
Imlie knew he was right about that. She had pondered over this all day since she had said yes to his proposal. Why had she said yes? Why hadn’t she just refused him? Why not try to drive a better bargain? Why hadn’t she fought her way out of it? The questions were endless but none had a single satisfactory answer.
When she had gone to Aryan to request him to drop the case against Aditya Kumar Tripathi, for the sake of his family, Aryan had agreed to comply on the condition that she marry him. While she had been furious that he could use such a thing as leverage, her anger hadn’t lasted long. She had just countered it with a condition to keep it fake and Aryan had simply agreed, as if that was the most natural thing to do. She had expected them to sign a contract detailing out the terms and conditions but instead, he had insisted they do an actual registered marriage. And at the end of it all, Imlie found herself annoyed but struggling to pinpoint the exact reason why. Putting those thoughts aside, she focused on the conversation at hand and said, “But this was supposed to be a pretend thing, a deal!”
“It still is,” Aryan shrugged, totally nonchalant about it.
“We got it registered!” Imlie fumed.
“Imlie, you had a problem with doing this the religious way. But this is a contract. Besides, if there is one thing Mr. Tripathi would do right, it is digging into the details of our marriage once he heard of it. And I'm sure you don't want the sham to fall flat on day one itself?” Aryan tried to make her see reason.
Imlie hated to admit that the man was right, yet again. As it was, Aditya sir was not going to believe that Imlie had moved on so easily from him, and if the man so much as got a whiff of their marriage being fake, the resulting drama was going to be endless.
“Fine,” Imlie conceded. “Now, can we go in?”
“Not until you drop that sour face. You’re not walking in there and letting people make a fool of you and your story,” Aryan replied, refusing to budge. “With that martyr face, no one’s going to buy your ‘happily married’ story.”
“That’s not your problem,” she replied, struggling to hold on to her irritation against the facts he was dropping.
“You're right. It's our problem,” He replied, chipping away at another bit of her annoyance.
“No,” she replied stubbornly.
“It was a deal, a partnership, Imlie. So, stop playing obtuse. Either we’re doing this right or we’re not doing it at all,” Aryan challenged.
“You think so,” she challenged him right back.
Aryan sensed her refusal to budge and changed tactics. His voice dropped an octave as he said, “Imlie, don't tell me I didn't warn you.”
“Watch me!” she tossed back as she spun on her heel to head in.
The next instant, Imlie gasped as she felt herself being pulled back and crashing into his arms.
“What the — ”
As if on cue, the lights in the foyer turned dim and, for the first time, Imlie noticed the decor of her surroundings. A series of floral arches lined the walkway, each connecting to the other with strings of fairy lights falling in waves, creating a breath-taking canopy of twinkling lights. A series of lanterns dotted the centre, as if leading the way to the living room. Faint music filled the atmosphere drifting from within the house somewhere, and Imlie stood wrapped in Aryan's arms, her hands on his chest, their hearts beating to a rhythm of their own.
Imlie tried to take a step back, and Aryan let her go. However, she stumbled behind and he immediately steadied her by reaching out and supporting her back with one hand and holding her left hand with the other.
Imlie found herself flustered and to hide her agitation said, “Do you think you can dance your way out of this situation by all these grand gestures?”
“I know you too well to know that such gestures cannot sway you, Imlie; so no, this is not my doing,” he replied, gesturing to the decorations in the foyer. “However, if a dance is what you have on your mind, I can surely oblige.”
Aryan started swaying with her to the music. The tenderness in his eyes as he looked at her twisted something in her gut and Imlie knew that at this rate, she would not be able to remain mad at Aryan for long. And that thought left her confused. So, holding on to her anger and annoyance for dear life, she did something that wasn’t unlike her, but unexpected in this moment. She lifted her foot in an attempt to step on his and use the distraction to get away; but, as always, he was one step ahead and Imlie found herself being swept off her feet and swirled around.
She gasped, “Akkadbagge, stop!”
“You know what I need you to do if you want me to stop,” Aryan said as he continued to swirl her effortlessly as if she weighed nothing.
“ABP, please, put me down!” she pleaded, as the shock from the lift and swirl started making way for exhilaration.
“Tsk!”
“Aryan!” she called, as she tried one last time in a futile attempt to hold on to her annoyance. But nothing could make Aryan budge.
“Fine, you win!” Imlie said as she let go of the laughter that was bubbling within. Her body convulsing, she felt lightheaded with joy.
Aryan finally decided to slide her down and she held on to the lapels of his jacket for support, feeling weak-kneed with all the laughing. Her contagious laughter seemed to have infected him too because she saw his face break into a soft laugh, leaving her mesmerized. Imlie had hardly seen him smile, let alone laugh, and never at such close distance. Of its own accord, she found her head leaning against his and for a long moment, they stood like that in a trancelike state, breathless due to laughter, foreheads locked together, her hands on his chest, while his held her waist.
“Laughter becomes you, Mr. Rathore,” Imlie whispered, caressing the laughter lines on his face as if committing them to memory.
“Blushing becomes you, Mrs. Rathore,” Aryan replied, fighting the urge to caress the natural pink hue staining her cheeks.
The sound of something crashing broke the moment, making them conscious of their surroundings. Imlie jumped, appalled at what had just transpired between Aryan and her. She was shocked at the intimacy in that moment, embarrassed by the betrayal of her own self. Aryan took a step back putting some space between them.
“What crashed?” she asked, trying to dispel the awkwardness.
Someone’s dreams, thought Aryan as he spotted Aditya Kumar Tripathi standing a few feet away, with shards of broken glass lying at his feet. It looked like he had accidentally dropped a crystal keepsake.
“Imlie?”
Imlie panicked a little, seeing Aditya there. She hadn’t wanted him to learn of Aryan and her marriage like this. She found herself scrambling to clarify the situation but before she could respond, Aditya continued, “What’s going on?” and the accusatory nature of his tone stopped her short. She took a deep breath, panic turning into irritation and seeping into her words unbidden, “What do you see?”
Imlie never lost her cool easily, but off late, especially since their divorce, Imlie realised she had a very low tolerance to Aditya’s constant sense of entitlement.
Aryan raised a brow at that. He had seldom seen Imlie speak up to the Tripathis, and hardly ever to Aditya, so this came as a surprise to him, albeit a pleasant one.
Ignoring her question, Aditya bit out, “You said you were coming alone.”
“I said no such thing,” Imlie countered coolly.
“I told you that I really needed to talk to you, and you agreed. And then you turn up with this – ” Aditya looked at Aryan with undisguised loathing, struggling to say his name, “– this... guy!”
Aryan rolled his eyes at the theatrics of Aditya Kumar Tripathi. Every single interaction with the man was laced with drama, every dialogue of his reeking of a sense of victimhood. Theatre would have won him more laurels than investigative journalism.
“Nowhere did I say that I was coming alone, you just assumed it. Anyway, what is it that you wanted to talk about?” Imlie asked, barely keeping the irritation out of her voice.
Aditya took a deep breath, looking anywhere but at Aryan and Imlie standing together. His gaze fell on her hand curled around her phone and a dazzling diamond ring caught his eye. Looking up, he saw the sindoor lining the partition in her hair, the mangalsutra nestled around her neck and the full realization of what he was seeing dawned on Aditya.
“It’s too late now,” he said bitterly. “You were never this selfish, Imlie.”
Imlie was taken aback by that unexpected accusation. Before she could process it fully and respond, Aditya continued, “The Imlie I knew believed in our relationship being Sita Maiyya's aashirwad. That Imlie spoke of being loyal to us, no matter what. That Imlie, never asked, only gave. I don’t recognize you anymore, Imlie.”
“But I recognize you very well now, thank you,” Imlie replied, looking him in the eye, and then turned gracefully and walked into the Tripathi house.
Aditya and Aryan stood there, shooting daggers at each other, with Imlie gone. Aryan shook his head and said, “You have the audacity to question her loyalty? You are the most pompous, selfish jerk that I've had the displeasure of knowing in my life, Mr. Tripathi.”
-×-×-
Imlie walked into the Tripathi house, Aditya’s words still buzzing in her ears, adding to the chaos that reigned within her. She couldn’t understand who was responsible for the emotional turmoil that she was going through currently – Aditya, Aryan, or herself. She hated Aditya for guilt-tripping her, she hated Aryan for arm-twisting her and she hated herself for allowing herself to be caught in this crossfire between the two. And if that wasn’t enough, the memory of the moment she had shared with Aryan mere minutes ago surfaced before her eyes in all its vivid glory, leaving her unsettled in a way she couldn't explain as her heart raced wildly while her stomach felt like it was suddenly home to a swarm of fluttering butterflies.
Tamping down all these unfamiliar and unsavoury sensations, she entered the living room. It was covered in darkness with not a soul in sight. Cautiously navigating her way through the darkness, she reached the centre of the living room where she knew the couches were lined for welcoming guests and where the family lounged in the evenings. As she halted there, the lights above her came on, still leaving the periphery of the room in darkness. She heard the pop of confetti canons, and the room was filled with confetti and glittery streamers as Rupi and Nishant popped open a couple of poppers and everyone greeted her in unison.
“Surprise! Happy birthday!”
The coffee table was decked with birthday frillery and a big cake sat in the centre with candles ready to be lit. Imlie was taken aback at the unexpected gesture. While Aryan had insisted that this was a birthday celebration, she had stubbornly refused. But the man had been proven right. Once again, as he always was.
“Thank you,” Imlie replied without enthusiasm, still trying to process it all.
“Imlie, how did you like our surprise?” Nishant asked, coming to stand beside her.
“Uff, Nishant, the bigger question is, how did she like Adi bhai's surprise. Imlie?” Rupi interrupted, eyes sparkling with excitement as she scanned Imlie from head to toe, decked up in the finery of a new bride, all complete with the signature red saree.
Imlie hesitated, confused, as the import of what Rupi was implying began to dawn on her. They were thinking of her as Aditya sir’s bride! What had he told them to give them such false hopes? She, for sure, had not given him any such hopes! Dread and panic warred within as she scrambled to gather her thoughts to respond.
“Spill, Imlie!” Rupi urged, wiggling her eyebrows as she teased.
“Rupi, you can continue your questioning later,” Aparna called out, “Let the girl sit, at least.” The Tripathis laughed, but the Rathores seemed tensed. Imlie didn’t miss the worried looks that Kakimaa and Arpita didi exchanged.
Imlie gave a feeble smile as she tried to reply, “Actually, I — ”
Before she could continue, she was interrupted by Aditya, who had just walked into the living room, “Imlie didn’t allow me the opportunity to surprise her. She planned a bigger surprise for me.” Imlie didn’t miss the tartness in his tone but Rupi clearly took her brother’s words at face value.
“Oh, so this spontaneous, secret marriage was your idea, Imlie?” Rupi exclaimed. “Wow, Imlie! I'm sure bhai must’ve been rendered speechless looking at you. You look so stunning! But I didn’t expect you to give in to bhai so easily for you two to spring a surprise on us with a secret marriage. But I love the idea – so romantic!”
“Rupi, didi — ”
Imlie was interrupted again. “Of course, Rupi, Imlie gave in very easily, just not to me. In fact, she’d give in easily to anyone but me.”
Imlie struggled to rein in her ire against Aditya’s words. Thankfully, in an effort to put an end to this embarrassment that her son was wrecking on them once again, Aparna interrupted him, “Adi, not again!”
Unfortunately, Aditya was beyond reason as he continued, “Imlie is now married — to Aryan Singh Rathore.”
...to be continued.
A/N: This is the last of my fics that begin with AKT, I promise. 🤣 As Vera said, third time's a charm. 😆 So this one was inspired by the Chaap Tilak reel when it released but got stuck forever as I hit a bad writer's block. But here it is now. It was supposed to be a one shot but was getting too long so I spli it into two. Hope to wrap up the second part soon and post it some time later this week. As always, please leave your reviews and hit the reactions if you read.
Tagging the regulars —
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