Pitter patter of rain, drizzling over rooftops and sliding down window panes. Hot masala chai, bread pakoras and the evening radio. Street lamps flickering. Calcutta went under a blanket and sipped warm coffee.

Maya's parents had gone out for a wedding. She dropped the invitation with the excuse of work. In reality, she was wary of meeting all the nosy relatives who were over-the-top curious about her love and professional life. Being a detective, and an unmarried woman of twenty-seven, she had to maintain a distance from unnecessary drama. She was also busy packing her luggage; she was to visit Devipuram in two days for the marriage of Sundar and Sahiba.

"Sahiba is around eight years younger to me, and already going to be married. And here, look at me." She chuckled. "I might even become a spinster."

Marriage was something that Maya grew worried about every passing day. Her profession had put her life at risk and had the potential to also endanger her future husband too. Her enemies would want to harm her family. The local police were still helpful and had good relations with her, but it wasn't enough to Maya. As a daughter, she was always tense, even though she rarely showed it. And the same points made her disregard the thought of marriage.

Not that she never dreamt of dressing in red and gold. It was the dream of every Bengali girl. They grew up playing with dolls and secretly mimicking their married mothers. Being a wife was a cosy desire.

Yet, Maya didn't know if she would be able to fall in love. She grew increasingly incapable of being vulnerable around people. Always putting up a guard, she pushed away prospective men with a disgruntled frown. Her father teased her about her secret lover. She denied having any.

But even she knew how wrong she was.

She wished she was wrong. She wished that he remembered her. It was a very devilish and selfish prayer, so merciless and insensitive, but Maya hoped that Raktim kept her in his memories. He was talking about her moving on, when in reality, she never did. So many months had passed and he never made a call. The paper she had given him perhaps rotted in a corner.

"Maybe he has decided to settle down in Khatra. He has a better life now, and he deserves it. He must be happy."

Maya sat on the sofa in the living room, distracting herself with a fashion magazine. The glitz and glamour glittering on the pages mesmerised the tired mind of the detective.

While she was flipping through the pages casually, the doorbell rang. "They came back so early?" Maya checked the clock– it was six in the evening. Even the rain had stopped. Maybe her parents returned sooner due to those clingy relatives. "They should at least have enjoyed the food. Especially the red meat."

Maya opened the door. "So–"

It wasn't her parents. For a moment, Maya just looked around, even though a man of flesh and bones stood in front of her. Actually, it was too unexpected and unreal for her to behold the man who waited at the door. "Ra-raktim?"

He had changed. He had ditched the long hair, the thick beard and humble style. In place of it was a trimmed and slicked back hair, clean shaven cheeks and a buttoned up maroon blazer paired with black trousers.

"I-I am back... Maya."

Whether it was his new look that dazzled her or the surprise visit, Maya was unable to handle the twist of life and lost her balance. Raktim kept down his umbrella and caught her before she fell down. "Are you fainting? Don't!"

"I-I am..."

"Let me help you."

Raktim took her up in his arms and carried her to the sofa. "Sit here." He closed the door and came back. "I hope I haven't been some unwelcome trouble."

Maya could only stare at him. The maroon shade suited his fair complexion. She had the temptation to compare him to a fresh strawberry stuck in a scoop of snow. "Delicious."

"What?"

"Oh no! I-I am dizzy, just, I said." Her cheeks flushed crimson. "You aren't a trouble, Raktim."

"Well, you fainted."

"You are a doctor. You know I got too excited, too happy. Whatever you call it."

Raktim smiled. "How are you, pretty one?"

"Would you believe me if I said I was thinking of you, and started reading this magazine," she pointed at to it on the table, "to make my mind feel better?"

His eyes twinkled. "You didn't answer my question though."

"I am fine, that's it. Solving little cases here and there. You can't expect something adventurous all the time. Well, I just pass my days. It's dull."

"I think it's still better than vampires."

Maya smirked. "I am used to being close to them. They don't affect me negatively." She twirled a lock of hair. "Rather, some are very good company."

Raktim grinned with a blush. "I believe so too."

"How are things in Khatra?"

"After you left, I looked after the business and the zamindari of the Das. I taught Mrinmoyee and Khirodh the basics of it. Mrinmoyee is really good at it, maybe even better than me, and Khirodh is learning. Mayavan has grown up and can string words into sentences. Is very naughty, but listens to whatever his mother and aunt say."

"Then why do you call him naughty?"

"He finds interesting ways to spoil my clothes. Like once he threw away my washed tunic in the garbage bag. Loves to pull my hair."

"Is that why you cut it short?" Maya wheezed.

"Definitely. This is not some new look, but a thing done out of desperation. Piya now handles all the chores of the house and has remarried, now to man her age. He works in the post office of the nearby town."

"And Mohini?"

"I arranged her marriage to a cousin of mine. At first they weren't ready to accept her, but Bhupendra, my cousin, proved himself to be a brilliant emotional support. Together, they have created their own joyous family."

"Good..." Everyone is getting married. "My blessings for her and her husband."

"I have somewhat retired from zamindari."

Maya raised a brow. "Really?"

"Yes." Raktim nodded. "Mrinmoyee is good at handling things. She is a true matriarch. I will keep in contact with her, but I have chosen my own life. I have bought a little house here in Calcutta, near Kalighat, and opened a private chamber in there too. It's been three months that I have shifted here and am working actively as a doctor."

"That's... great." Maya rubbed her shoulder. "Are you going to stay in Calcutta then?"

"For now, yes. Won't you ask me how I found your home?"

"Maybe I am famous."

"Ah, my little proud girl," Raktim whispered in his honeyed voice. "It's even more interesting."

"How so?"

"I visited a wedding today, like just before I came here. There I met your parents, and I introduced myself as Raktim Roy. They immediately asked me if I was from Khatra, and boom! I got to know your home. They gave me the address and I just came running here."

"You...you met my parents?" Maya's heartbeats galloped like a horse. And they just allowed him to come visit me when I am home alone?

"Yes. They looked so cool with me. You didn't tell them what I am, did you?"

"They don't even know the real story of Khatra. They think it's a family drama. Brothers killing brothers."

"Which is true."

Maya bit her lower lip. "I didn't want to be hurtful."

"Don't be so hard on yourself. I understand."

"I am glad to know you are staying in Calcutta. We can meet more often now."

"Surely. Can I get some tea?"

"Of course!" Maya beamed. "Please have your dinner here today. I will cook for you myself."

Maya served tea and biscuits to Raktim and they talked over the weather and politics, random things under the sun. An hour passed like this, and then another. Maya excused herself to prepare some dinner while Raktim read the newspaper. In this little bubble of time, they lived their most ambitious dream– of being a quiet, happy family.

And, the bubble broke when the doorbell rang a second time. Maya gulped down. She knew her parents would bombard her with questions. Steadying her breaths she opened the door. "Ah, come in–"

Her parents sneaked into the house like robbers trying to escape in broad daylight. Raktim stood up from the sofa and slightly bowed. "Thank you, for giving me the address–"

"Oh! That's nothing!" Katie giggled. "We are nice parents. All her friends are welcome home."

Maya cringed at the sugary tone of her mother. "Maa, I am cooking dinner for me and Raktim. Are you two going to have something?"

"No we are full!" Katie exclaimed. "I will go up and have a shower. You two enjoy."

Maya looked at her Baba, Ritam. He was taking too much time to remove his socks and fidgeted too long with the umbrella. Finally, Raktim went and helped the man to fold it.

"Thank you, young man!" Ritam fiercely shook his hand. "I heard you have gained a name as a doctor already. Will you treat my daughter for free?"

Maya's eyes bulged out. "Baba–"

"As a friend she is entitled to free checkups for her whole life, but Uncle, you need to pay me," Raktim joked.

The men laughed aloud, while Maya calculated in her head the various possibilities which suddenly made Raktim appear so friendly and bubbly.

"I am going to the kitchen," she said. Her Baba retired to his room too, leaving the complicated lovers alone.

Raktim silently walked inside the kitchen, and then wrapping his arms around her, innocently peeked at the boiling vegetables. "What are you doing?"

"As you can see, boiling veggies."

Raktim bent over and rubbed his cheek against hers. "Can I stay here?"

"Only if you help me out."

So taking off his blazer and rolling up his shirt sleeves, Raktim got ready to help Maya in the kitchen, just like a normal day in their daydreams, now manifested.

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