57. NOT SHAMELESS ENOUGH
As they completed their lunch, Yuvan got up to leave.
Seeing him stand, Aarvi instinctively did the same, too fast, too sudden. Vivan noticed.
She gathered her things, avoiding looking anywhere near him. As she was about to step away, his voice cut through the air.
"Aarvi."
Both of them turned.
Vivan's eyes flicked briefly to Yuvan, then back to her.
"I want to talk to you," he said.
Yuvan understood immediately. He smiled lightly, gave Aarvi a knowing look, and left without a word.
Now it was just them.
The silence felt heavier than before.
Aarvi's gaze dropped to the floor, suddenly aware of everything, of herself, of him, of the space between them. Her fingers curled into the fabric of her kurti, gripping it tightly.
Vivan pushed his chair back and stood up. He walked toward her, slow and cautious, stopping at a distance that felt deliberate, close enough to speak, far enough not to trap her.
He exhaled, long and heavy, like he had been holding it in since morning.
"I-I am sorry for what happened in the morning."
Her grip tightened. The memory flashed back without permission.
God. It was so embarrassing.
She closed her eyes briefly, heat rushing to her cheeks, and only managed a soft, barely audible, "Hmm."
That wasn't enough for him.
"I don't know what happened to me," he continued, his voice low, strained. "You even tried to stop me but..."
He paused, swallowing hard.
"I-I shouldn't have done that," he said, almost to himself. "I promise... thi-this won't happen again."
His fingers brushed his throat pinching it lightly.
"But please," he added, voice breaking just slightly, "please don't-don't ignore me. Don't distance yourself."
He looked at her then, really looked, waiting, hoping for something.
She said nothing.
The silence stretched until it became unbearable.
And finally, he asked the question that had been clawing at his chest since the knock on the door.
His throat tightened.
"Are you-are you disgusted?"
Her head snapped up.
She stared at him, shock mixing with something else. guilt. His eyes held so much uncertainty, so much fear, that it hit her harder than any accusation could have.
What was she supposed to say?
Instead of answering, she looked away and whispered, "Let's forget what happened."
Forget?
His brows pulled together involuntarily. He couldn't.
She spoke again, steadier this time, like she was convincing herself too.
"It's only one month left for our marriage to end..."
His shoulders stiffened instantly.
"Let's-let's not make this awkward for us," she continued. "Forget it. Let's move forward."
And before he could stop her, before he could say anything, she turned and left.
Vivan stood there, unmoving, watching her retreating figure until she disappeared from view.
"I can't forget this, Aarvi," he thought bitterly.
Only when she was gone did he finally let out the shaky breath he'd been holding the entire time. His hand went through his hair, frustration, longing, and regret tangling together.
"I can't. I can't forget anything related to you."
His jaw clenched.
"You're making me insane," he thought. "You don't know what you've done to me. To my heart."
Every memory rushed back-the closeness, the warmth, the way his control had shattered.
"Whenever I'm around you, my mind gives up," he admitted silently. "It's just my heart ruling my body. Like it did in the morning."
He swallowed.
"It might have been a mistake for you," he thought, pain curling in his chest, "but for me... it's something I can't forget."
Not now.
Not ever.
"And I'm sorry for that."
___
The day passed like that.
Aarvi avoided Vivan completely.
No eye contact. No words. No accidental brushes.
And Vivan?
He was angry. Not at her. At himself. At his lack of control.
She left the office without texting him.
For the first time.
Since the media chaos, Vivan had strictly told her to inform him whenever she left, for her safety. She never forgot. Never ignored it.
But today, she did.
He didn't even hear it from her.
He got to know through the staff.
That silence hurt more than any argument ever could.
At home, Aarvi stood in the kitchen, preparing food-hands busy, mind restless. She focused a little too hard, as if staying occupied would keep her thoughts from drifting where they shouldn't.
Meanwhile, Vivan was in Pragya's room.
She had called him.
She closed the door softly behind him and turned.
"So," she asked, her voice calm but knowing, "what's going on between you two?"
He let out a hollow chuckle and shook his head.
"Nothing."
She smiled faintly-she knew that answer too well.
"Still nothing?"
He nodded again, eyes dropping to the floor.
"I already told you. Nothing is going to happen."
Pragya walked closer and sat beside him on the bed. Her voice softened, but her words didn't.
"At least tell her, Vivan. Then it will be her choice."
His body stiffened instantly.
"I can't."
She looked at him, surprised by how quickly the answer came.
"I'm not shameless enough to tell her I love her after what I did to her," he thought, guilt crawling into him remembering the reception day.
His eyes burned, he gulped in order to refuse the emotions building inside him.
The room fell silent.
Then Pragya's tone changed. Sharper. Firmer.
"If you won't tell her," she said slowly, "then I will."
His head snapped up.
"Nahi."
The word came out before he could stop it.
Pragya stared at him, disbelief written all over her face.
"Maa, please," he said, running a hand through his hair, frustration seeping into his voice. "Things are already complicated between us. This will only make it worse."
He paused, then added softly, "I'll tell her... when the right time comes."
Without waiting for a response, he stood up and walked out.
Pragya watched his retreating figure, her chest heavy.
"I know you won't," she murmured to herself after a long pause.
Then, her lips pressed into a determined line.
"But I will make sure you do."
At midnight, Aarvi slept.
But Vivan didn't.
He lay beside her, careful, almost reverent, his fingers slowly threading through her hair-soft, unhurried, afraid that even his breathing might wake her. The whole day, she hadn't spoken to him. Not once. Except that conversation in the office.
It had become his routine now.
When she slept, he allowed himself these stolen moments-playing with her earrings, stroking her hair, sometimes pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. Just enough to convince himself she was still here. Still his. At least for now.
"Only one month left." he said quietly.
The thought tightened his chest. That was why nights felt unbearable. That was why he memorized her face in the dark, admired her beauty when she wasn't aware, when she couldn't look away or pull back. He wanted to be close to her. Wanted it selfishly. Silently.
His mind drifted back to the day.
To Yuvan.
She had laughed with him. Smiled freely. Stood close without hesitation. She had always been happy around Yuvan.
What if... after the divorce... Yuvan asks her-
He shook his head immediately, as if the thought itself was poison. His throat burned, tears blurring his vision. He looked up at the ceiling, blinking rapidly, refusing to let them fall.
"I'm jealous," he admitted silently.
"So jealous."
Not just of Yuvan.
Of everyone.
"She talks to everyone so easily. Smiling. Laughing. No fear. No awkwardness," his thoughts whispered bitterly. "But with me?"
A hollow ache spread through his chest.
"I hate myself. I hate myself for losing control. She's already uncomfortable around me... and I made it worse."
His gaze dropped back to her.
She slept peacefully, unaware of the storm raging inches away from her. He gently brushed a few strands of hair away from her face, his thumb grazing her cheek almost unconsciously.
"Only one month," he thought painfully.
"I wanted this month to be ours. Just us. After everything... after the trip... after what we built."
His jaw tightened.
"But what did I do?"
"I ruined everything."
A tear finally slipped free.
He wiped it away instantly, as if ashamed, even though she couldn't see him. As if he was hiding it from her. From himself.
He leaned closer, slowly, deliberately, and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. The warmth of her skin shattered something inside him. His eyes fell shut as another tear escaped.
After this month... she wouldn't be here.
No more warmth beside him.
No more quiet nights.
No more her.
In these four months, he had lied to himself every day. He had tried. Tried to convince himself that he didn't like her. That he couldn't. Not after Kiara. Not after everything.
But in the end-
He lost.
He lost his heart to her.
Silently. Completely. Irreversibly.
___
Morning settled over the house slowly. Everyone was gathered in the hall when Yuvan entered.
The moment he stepped inside, Vivan's jaw clenched.
His eyes intentionally moved towards Aarvi, whose eyes without her even realising sparkled seeing Yuvan.
His chest tightened.
Without greeting anyone, without sparing a glance, Vivan got up and walked upstairs. His retreating figure didn't go unnoticed.
Aarvi saw it.
After greeting everyone casually, Yuvan turned toward Pragya.
"Aunty, why did you call me?" he asked, genuinely curious.
"I need to talk to you about something," Pragya replied. "Come to my room."
Yuvan nodded, slightly hesitant, and followed her upstairs.
As they entered Pragya's room, Yuvan stopped short.
Prisha and Vedant were already sitting there.
His brows furrowed in confusion just as Pragya closed the door and locked it.
Yuvan looked from Pragya to the siblings, silently asking what's going on?
Prisha and Vedant only shrugged, clearly as clueless as he was.
Vedant finally broke the silence.
"Why did you call us, maa?"
"I want to tell you something," Pragya said in a low voice.
"What?" Yuvan asked immediately, his tone sharp with curiosity.
Pragya took a deep breath.
"Vivan likes Aarvi."
For a second Silence.
Then-
"WHATTT?!" all three almost shouted together.
Pragya quickly shushed them.
"Slow down!"
Vedant smirked instantly.
"Kuch zyada jaldi realise nahi ho gaya bhai ko?"
Prisha slapped his arm playfully.
"Chup reh!"
Yuvan, however, was serious now.
"Does Aarvi know about this?" he asked.
Pragya shook her head.
"No. I've told Vivan many times to tell her. But he refuses. He says... she deserves better."
"Hein?" Prisha frowned.
"Yeh kaisa pyaar hai?"
Pragya shot her a sharp glare, and Prisha immediately zipped her mouth.
"I want your help," Pragya said finally, her voice firm.
"Suggest something. Anything. So that he confesses."
The room went quiet again.
Then-
A slow, mischievous smirk spread across Yuvan's face.
"Leave everything on me," he said casually.
Everyone turned toward him.
"Are you sure?" Vedant asked, sceptical.
Yuvan nodded, confidence dripping from his tone.
"Yes, Ved. I just need your help. And trust me-he will confess."
Prisha smiled instantly. "We're always with you."
"Good," Yuvan said, already turning toward the door.
"Then follow me."
Vedant and Prisha exchanged a glance before following him out.
Pragya remained behind, staring at the closed door.
She sighed softly.
"Maine inhe bata ke... koi galti toh nahi kar di?"
Yuvan called Prisha and Vedant aside, lowering his voice he discussed his plan, his eyes gleaming mischievously.
Five minutes later, Prisha and Vedant were outside near Aarvi's car.
Pssshhh.
They exchanged a victorious look and rushed back inside, giving Yuvan a discreet thumbs-up.
Yuvan leaned back on the sofa, a slow smirk forming on his lips.
Game on.
After some time, Aarvi came downstairs, adjusting her bag.
"Maa, I'm leaving for office," she said casually.
Pragya smiled. "Take care beta."
Just then, Yuvan stood up too.
"I'm leaving as well," he announced.
Aarvi nodded and walked outside.
The moment she reached her car, her brows furrowed.
She bent down slightly, inspecting the tyre.
"...What the-"
Yuvan followed her out, pretending innocence.
"What happened?" he asked, genuinely curious on the surface.
She straightened up and sighed.
"The tyre is punctured."
Yuvan looked down, then back at her.
"Oh," he said casually. Then, as if it was the most obvious solution in the world,
"So... do you want me to drop you?"
Aarvi hesitated.
"No no, it's fine. I'll book a cab."
Yuvan blinked, visibly offended.
"A cab?" he repeated. "Why would you book a cab when I am here, huh?"
She laughed nervously.
"Okay... okay."
That smile of his widened instantly.
He walked to his car, opened the passenger door for her first.
"Madam," he teased.
Aarvi rolled her eyes, still smiling, and got in.
Yuvan closed the door, went around, got into the driver's seat,
and drove off.
Inside the house.
Vivan came downstairs, adjusting his watch, clearly ready to leave.
His eyes scanned the hall.
No Aarvi.
His brows knitted together.
"Prisha," he asked, trying to sound casual, "where's Aarvi?"
Prisha didn't even look up from her phone.
"She left."
He frowned. "Left?"
"With Yuvan." she added intentionally.
Time stopped.
"What?"
The word slipped out of his mouth, sharp and loud.
Everyone froze.
Something inside him snapped.
Without another word, he grabbed his car keys from the table, his jaw clenched so tight it hurt, and stormed out.
The door shut with a thud.
The moment he left-
Prisha burst out laughing.
Vedant high-fived her.
Pragya covered her mouth, half amused, half worried.
"Lagta hai bhai ko thoda zyada hi lag gaya," Vedant whispered.
Pragya exhaled slowly, staring at the door.
"Bas ab sach bol de."
Vivan reached the office and, without even thinking, his feet carried him straight to Aarvi's cabin.
Empty.
His jaw tightened.
They left before me, still hadn't reached yet.
He glanced at his watch, irritation prickling under his skin. He pulled out his phone and dialled the guard.
"If Aarvi reaches, inform me immediately."
"Yes, sir."
He disconnected and walked into his cabin, but work didn't register. Files lay untouched. His eyes kept drifting to the glass wall.
Minutes crawled.
Twenty.
Then his phone buzzed.
"She's here, sir."
Vivan didn't reply. He simply lifted his gaze.
Through the glass, he saw it.
Yuvan stepping out first. Moving around the car. Opening the door for her.
Aarvi stepped out, smiling.
Something snapped inside Vivan's chest.
His grip tightened around the phone, knuckles whitening. His jaw clenched so hard it hurt. He cut the call without a word.
"Call Aarvi to my office," he said sharply to his secretary.
"Yes, sir."
A few moments later, the door opened.
She didn't knock. She never did anymore.
"You called me?" Aarvi asked, brows knitting slightly.
Vivan didn't look at her at first.
"Why are you late?"
His voice was controlled but tight.
She frowned. "Yuvan asked to have ice cream."
That did it.
"You could've denied it," he snapped, finally looking at her. "You know we have an important meeting in ten minutes. You're the one representing us, Aarvi."
She stiffened. "I did deny. He insisted. I even told him about the meeting, he said he'd be quick."
Vivan inhaled deeply, trying to rein himself in.
"Aarvi," he said, slower now, but colder, "there are strict restrictions about punctuality."
He wanted to say why are you letting him get so close?
He wanted to say does my presence mean nothing now?
He wanted to say you're killing me.
But all he managed was-
"Please don't repeat this again."
Her shoulders dropped slightly.
"I'm sorry," she said quietly.
He nodded once.
She turned and left.
The door closed.
Vivan exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair, frustration, jealousy, guilt all crashing together.
"This is getting insane," he muttered.
And the worst part?
It wasn't Yuvan.
It was Aarvi. Her presence is enough for that.
~?~