Anushri’s POV
I was in the kitchen, preparing lunch, when I realized I needed the jar of turmeric, which was inconveniently placed on the top shelf. Standing on my tiptoes, I stretched as far as I could, but the jar slipped through my fingers and fell with a loud clatter, spilling its contents across the counter and floor.
Amey, who was seated at the dining table, glanced up at the noise and frowned. “What happened now?” he asked, his tone laced with irritation.
I threw him a look, brushing the hair from my face. “Nothing. Just a jar that decided to jump off the shelf, obviously.”
He walked over, hands in his pockets, surveying the mess. Instead of offering to help, he smirked. “You know, you could’ve just asked me to get it. Saves us all this drama.”
I felt my temper flare. “Oh, I’m sorry for not issuing a formal request for your royal assistance, Your Highness. I didn’t realize I needed permission to do things myself!”
He raised an eyebrow, his smirk unwavering. “I’m just saying, maybe stop being so stubborn about doing everything alone. You’re barely tall enough to reach those shelves.”
I glared at him, hands on my hips. “Right, because it’s my height that’s the problem, not the fact that you sit there scrolling on your phone while I run this house like a one-woman army!”
His amused expression faded, replaced by a defensive edge. “Oh, come on, Anushri. I work all day, sometimes late into the night. Do you think I have time to keep track of spice jars and whatever else you think I’m failing at?”
I slammed the cloth onto the counter. “This isn’t about the spice jar, Amey! It’s about you acting like you’re the only one with responsibilities. I’m juggling this house and trying to study so I can clear the KTs!”
He crossed his arms, his voice rising. “And whose decision was it to take that on? I didn’t ask you to do everything! so don’t turn this into a blame game now.”
The sharpness in his tone stung, but I wasn’t about to back down. “Oh, so now it’s my fault for trying to make something of myself while keeping this house from falling apart? You know what, forget it. Why do I even bother?”
I grabbed the broom to clean up the spilled turmeric, my hands shaking with anger.
Amey’s POV
Her words hit me harder than I expected. I wasn’t blind to the effort she put into everything, but hearing her frustration laid out so plainly made me feel cornered. I should’ve walked away, but instead, I doubled down.
“Fine. You want me to help? Just say so instead of turning every little thing into a battle. I can’t read your mind, Anushri!”
She looked up from the mess she was cleaning, her eyes blazing. “Maybe if you paid attention for once, you wouldn’t need to!”
That was it. I threw my hands up in frustration. “You know what? Forget I said anything. Clearly, whatever I do or don’t do will always be wrong in your eyes.”
Her laugh was bitter, a sound I hadn’t heard from her before. “Oh, don’t flatter yourself, Amey. You barely do anything to be wrong about.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but the weight of her words silenced me. She stood up, dusted off her hands, and turned to leave the kitchen.
“Anushri,” I called after her, my voice softer now.
She paused but didn’t turn around. “What?”
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Look, I didn’t mean for this to turn into a fight. I was just…trying to help.”
She turned back to me, her expression guarded. “If that’s your idea of helping, you’ve got a lot to learn.”
Later That Evening
The silence between us was heavier than usual. As I sat at my desk, pretending to focus on work, her earlier words echoed in my mind. She was right in her own way—I hadn’t made much of an effort to share the load, not because I didn’t care.
After wrestling with my thoughts for what felt like hours, I decided to apologize.
She was sitting at the study table, her back to me, scribbling furiously in a notebook. I walked over, hesitant. “Anushri,” I said quietly.
She didn’t look up. “What is it?”
I took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. For earlier. I shouldn’t have said those things.”
Her pen paused mid-sentence, but she still didn’t look at me. “Why? You meant them, didn’t you?”
I winced at the bitterness in her tone. “I was frustrated. That doesn’t make it okay.”
She finally turned to face me, her expression unreadable. “You know, Amey, sometimes it feels like we’re just two strangers pretending to share a life. I don’t even know why we bother.”
Her words cut deep, but I couldn’t argue with them. “Maybe we’re both trying to figure out what this life even is,” I said honestly.
For a moment, neither of us spoke. Then she nodded, almost imperceptibly, and turned back to her books.
Back to Their Lives
The next day, it was as if nothing had happened. I left early for work, and Anushri busied herself with her books and chores. We didn’t talk much, but there was a subtle shift in the air between us—not quite warmth, but not as cold as before.
Our fight had left a mark, but perhaps it was also the first crack in the walls we’d built around ourselves. For now, we returned to our routines, each trying to make sense of the life we were building—together, yet apart.
