BONUS CHAPTER
They woke up. Aarvi stirred first.
For a few seconds, she stayed still, listening steady rhythm of breathing beside her. Vivan was awake, she realized. Not moving. Just… present.
They hadn’t crossed any line the night before. Too tired. Too overwhelmed. Too aware of what this new beginning meant.
She turned slightly. Their eyes met. An awkward smile curved her lips. His answered it gently.
“Good morning,” he murmured, his voice low, as if afraid to disturb her. She nodded, returning the smile. “Morning.”
Silence followed, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was heavy. As if something unspoken lay between them.
---
A while later, Aarvi stepped out of the bathroom, draped in a bright red saree. She rubbed her damp hair with a towel as she moved toward the mirror, her bangles clinking softly with every step.
She had just begun her makeup when Vivan entered the room.
“Everyone’s calling you,” he said, already mid-complaint. “Do you know how many excuses I had to make for you? They were all blaming me, saying I didn’t let you sleep last night—that’s why you woke up late. As if they don’t know you’re a complete kumbhkaran.”
He kept talking as he walked in, but Aarvi didn’t respond. Her focus remained on the mirror.
She picked up the small box of sindoor.
Vivan noticed. He sighed softly, then stepped closer. Gently, he took the box from her hand.
“Let me,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
She nodded.
His fingers were careful almost reverent as he filled the parting of her hair. When he was done, he didn’t move away immediately.
“You look beautiful,” he said, looking straight into her eyes.
She smiled and before he could react, leaned forward and placed a soft peck on his lips.
He chuckled. “I think you’re obsessed with my lips.”
Aarvi gasped dramatically.
He raised a brow at her antics, as she said “Who told you my secret?”
His smile deepened as he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.
“Come,” he said softly. “They’re waiting.”
Together, they stepped out.
---
The day blurred into rituals.
People flowed in and out of the house.
Blessings. Laughter. Teasing glances.
Her bangles brushed his wrist.
His shirt brushed her arm.
Every accidental touch felt louder than it should have.
Every glance lingered half a second too long.
By the time the last guest left, exhaustion finally settled into their bones.
---
Evening fell.
Aarvi lay on the bed, drained, her body aching pleasantly from the long day. She changed into one of his shirts—intentionally, letting the familiar fabric fall loosely around her.
Moments later, Vivan entered with a glass of water.
“Have this,” he said, handing it to her.
She sat up. They both adjusted their grip at the same time.
The glass tilted.
Water spilled—cool and sudden—soaking the front of her shirt.
They froze.
“Oh—” Vivan exclaimed. “I’m so sorry, I—”
Before she could say anything, his hand moved on instinct, trying to wipe the water away.
Then he stopped.
Because he realized where his hand was.
On her chest.
Too close.
Too aware.
Her breath hitched.
His fingers went completely still, as though he’d crossed an invisible line.
“I—” He pulled back immediately. “I didn’t mean to—”
She looked up at him.
Their eyes locked.
Something shifted not desire rushing in, but awareness finally settling in its place.
The room felt smaller.
Quieter.
He slowly leaned in.
Aarvi didn’t stop him.
For a heartbeat, they hovered there—breaths mingling, her pulse loud in her ears, his restraint thinning with every second. His eyes flicked to her lips, then back to her eyes, silently asking a question he didn’t voice.
She answered by staying still.
That was enough.
His lips met hers—soft at first, hesitant, like he was afraid the moment might shatter if he pressed too hard. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t hungry. It was careful. Exploratory.
Her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt before she even realized she’d moved.
The kiss deepened slowly. Not demanding, but sure. His thumb brushed her cheek, grounding her, as if reminding himself this was real. Her lips responded instinctively, parting just enough to let him know she wasn’t pulling away.
The world outside the room faded.
No spilled water.
No unfinished apologies.
Just warmth. Familiarity. And something newly awakened between them.
When they finally pulled back, their foreheads rested together, breaths uneven. Neither spoke.
They didn’t need to.
The silence said everything.
His eyes met hers. He gulped, his gaze flickering from her face to the damp fabric clinging to her, then back again.
Aarvi, who was already looking up at him, nodded.
And that was it.
Vivan bent down and grabbed both her clothed breasts in his hands. Aarvi moaned, “Ahh,” throwing her head back.
He looked at her, seeing how much impact he had on her. Watching her moan, he squeezed one breast. Aarvi shivered vigorously and grabbed his hand, trying to stop him.
He gulped and whispered, “Did it hurt?”
She looked at him then—his eyes were on her, wide and innocent.
Gosh, how can someone look this innocent while doing such things? she thought.
She finally said, “Stop asking, Vivan. Just do whatever you want—but please me. I am dying.”
He nodded and started unbuttoning her shirt.