43.

The day was finally approaching. In just two days, Shaurya would have his cast removed.

And that meant only one thing—the moment I'd been dreading and anticipating all at once was almost here.

The day Shaurya and Aarya would meet. Too close, too real, and the thought gnawed at my chest like I couldn't breathe.

I needed to prepare myself... and more importantly, I needed to prepare her.

"Aarya?" I called softly.

She paused mid-scribble, pencil in hand, and turned to me with those sharp, questioning eyes that always reminded me she wasn't just a child anymore.

"Yes, Papa?"

I swallowed, scratching at the back of my neck like a fool. "Well, uhh... don't you think it's time you met your father?" My attempt at a smile felt too wide, too nervous.

Her gaze lingered on me for a long second. Silent. Calculating. And then, with suspicion lacing her voice, she asked, "Do you want me to?"

My throat tightened. I nodded.

"Okay then." She shrugged, almost casually, and bent back over her homework as if I'd asked her to pass the salt at dinner.

That's it? My chest sank. No excitement. No spark. Just a plain, indifferent "okay." And now the dark thoughts began rushing in—what if she didn't like him? What if he didn't like her? What if the gap between them was too wide to ever close?

But before I could spiral, she glanced up at me again.

"Why don't we invite him over here for a meal?" she suggested simply, as if the solution was obvious.

I froze. "Umm... really?"

She nodded again, calm and sure.

"That would be... really great," I said, relief rushing through me as I leaned in and kissed the top of her head. "Thank you, baby."

She stayed quiet. No smile, no protest—just silence. I studied her face, the way her brows furrowed slightly as she returned to her books. Maybe it was going to take time. Maybe this was her way of processing.

But now that it was truly happening, I couldn't stop the flicker of nervousness.

I needed to prepare—our home, the atmosphere, even myself.

Guests were rare here. People only visited me when I stayed at my other apartment near the office.

This space, this life with Aarya, had always been private.

Just me, her, Yug, and Eve. Sometimes Yug's mom. That was all.

And now Shaurya.

Or rather, Shaurya and his shadows. His bodyguards had already left their imprint—Aarya seemed to adore Ravi and Roy, the way children sometimes cling to unexpected figures.

Part of me ached at that. She grew up with so little around her.

So little family. And yet... maybe, just maybe, that was about to change.

------------------------------------

TWO DAYS LATER ~

"Mr. Shekhawat, you're doing great, I see," the doctor said warmly as Shaurya tested his first steps without the cast.

Yug had come with me to the hospital today. I stood off to the side, arms crossed, watching every movement with a knot in my chest.

"But your wounds haven't fully healed yet," the doctor continued, scribbling notes on his chart. "So don't push yourself too hard. I'll assign a physiotherapist—you'll be walking fine in no time. Honestly, I'm impressed. You're stronger than most patients I see."

Shaurya limped a few steps across the floor, his jaw tight, but his shoulders steady. It was strange—if someone saw him in clothes, they would never believe he was still recovering.

"You sure he isn't a beast?" Yug muttered under his breath, leaning close so only I could hear. His eyes flicked to Shaurya's frame. "Even the gym couldn't fix our bodies like that."

I almost laughed, because it was true. Shaurya's physique was... different. All Shekhawats were built like steel. Sometimes I wondered what Vedansh Shekhawat had been feeding them.

"But don't worry," Yug added with a smirk, nudging me lightly. "I still prefer yours."

I rolled my eyes, fighting a smile.

"What's so funny?" Shaurya's voice broke in suddenly. His sharp gaze cut to us, and instinctively both of us straightened, like school kids caught whispering in class.

"Nothing," I said quickly, then arched a brow. "I was just telling Yug how impressive it is that you managed to find time to dye your hair in the middle of being sick."

Shaurya sighed, his eyes narrowing.

Ravi, who had been leaning against the wall, suddenly piped up. "So, does he get to eat normally again? Because this guy's making me sick. He keeps nagging about his so-called 'diarrhea food' every single day."

"Not yet," the doctor answered. "Light meals only. And make sure he stays hydrated. Also—" his voice softened as he tilted Shaurya's chin up, checking his eyes, "he doesn't seem to be sleeping much, does he?"

My gaze shifted to Shaurya, who tried to look indifferent but couldn't hide the exhaustion written on his face. Dark circles bruised his skin.

I swallowed hard. I'd already thrown away all the sleeping pills he used to rely on when Ravi showed them to me.

Finding out he'd been addicted to them..

. that had rattled me. Back when we were together, he barely touched them.

Somewhere in those six years, he'd fallen into that hole—and I wasn't sure he even wanted to climb out.

The doctor soon took his leave, and we headed out of the hospital together. At the parking lot, Yug and Ravi busied themselves with their cars, leaving just me and Shaurya standing side by side.

Shaurya slipped his hands into his pockets, his shoulders heavy but his posture still intimidating in that effortless way only he could manage.

"Shaurya?" I called softly.

"Hmm?"

"I'm glad you're recovering so fast," I said, offering a small smile.

"It's because you're somewhat near me," he replied without hesitation. His voice was simple, but it landed deep. He shifted closer, his frame towering over mine.

I looked up at him—at those exhausted eyes that still carried too much weight—and I knew exactly what could soften them.

"Why don't you meet Aarya?" I asked quietly.

His eyes softened instantly. "I've been dying to hear that. Can I... can I meet her now?"

My chest tightened, but I forced myself to stay practical. "Not yet. Just a few more days. You're still limping. Let's start your physiotherapy first, Shaurya."

"Okay," he nodded, though a flicker of disappointment passed across his face.

"I'm sorry," I muttered, guilt pricking me.

"That's alright," he said with a tight smile. "At least you want me to meet her. You want someone like me around her."

My face fell. "What do you mean by that?"

His gaze held mine, sharp but vulnerable.

"Shaurya, you're fine, okay? And it's you—we're talking about you. I don't ever want her away from you when I know how much of a wonderful father she has," I said firmly.

His jaw clenched, his voice low when he finally spoke. "I don't like it when you're close to him."

I blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

Before I could demand more, the screech of tires cut through the air. A car rolled up fast, snapping the tension.

"Aarav, get in," Yug called, motioning to me.

I cast one last glance at Shaurya. He was still standing there, his expression unreadable, rooted to the spot.

"Shaurya, get some rest, man! See ya!" Yug waved as we drove off.

But Shaurya's words echoed in my head, refusing to leave.

I don't like it when you're close to him.

He shouldn't have said that to me. No—I can't dwell on it. If I do, everything will get messier than it already is.

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