60.
Aarav sat on the sofa, rubbing his forehead. It felt like the entire world had turned against him. As if the day couldn't possibly get worse, Eve came rushing into the room, phone in hand, eyes wide.
"Aarav... you might want to check the news," she said.
He didn't even have to. The TV was already blaring his name.
"Crown Prince Aarav Singh Chauhan and Yug Khurana were seen to be very close for many years," the reporter announced dramatically. "Sources say the two have been spotted shopping together on multiple occasions, and in these newly surfaced photos, the pair seem unusually affectionate."
Images began flashing on screen—Aarav and Yug laughing together at a café, standing close, hands intertwined in one shot. Another where Aarav had an arm draped casually around Yug's shoulders.
"Are they indicating something more than friendship?" the reporter asked, voice dripping with mock curiosity.
Then came the street interviews.
"If anything's really going on between them, they should stop," said an old man, shaking his head. "This isn't normal for our country. They're destroying the royal family's image. Shameful."
"Bitch," Eve muttered under her breath, glaring at the screen.
"It would be such a waste if Prince Aarav turned out gay," said a woman, adjusting her dupatta. "He's such a handsome young man. He'd ruin his future."
"I've always had a crush on Prince Aarav!" another young woman squealed. "When I see him and Yug together, I get butterflies. They're so cute!"
"Honestly, people should mind their own business and respect their privacy," a man added calmly, his voice almost lost among the noise.
Eve turned her gaze back to Aarav—he hadn't blinked once. His expression was blank, eyes fixed on the screen like he wasn't really there.
She grabbed the remote and switched off the TV immediately. "Aarav... it's okay. People just love interfering in others' lives. You know that."
Aarav's jaw clenched. "They're right, aren't they?" he said quietly. "I'm ruining my father's image."
Eve frowned, moving closer. "Aarav, your father was proud of you. Don't let this garbage get into your head. These people don't know you—they just want a story."
Before she could say more, little footsteps echoed down the hallway. Aarya appeared, her hands tucked behind her back, eyes wide and guilty.
Aarav blinked, forcing his voice to soften. "What is it?"
"Papa... I'm sorry," she said in a tiny voice. "I wanted some glue, so I went to your room to get it."
Aarav tilted his head. "And?"
"Umm..." She shifted from foot to foot. "I opened a drawer and saw a box. It was really pretty, and I wanted to see what was inside."
Aarav didn't speak—his heart already sinking.
"I liked the ribbon," Aarya continued, looking at the floor. "So I tried to tie it on my hand... but it tore."
Her voice cracked slightly at the end, and she peeked up at him, lips turned down in a pout.
Aarav just stared for a moment, a flicker of dread passing through his expression. He knew exactly which box she was talking about.
Aarya held out her tiny hands, revealing the broken ribbon. Her eyes were wide and glistening, waiting for Aarav to scold her. But he didn't.
He just looked at the ribbon.
And kept looking.
His expression was unreadable—blank, heavy, distant. Then, without saying a single word, he stood up, turned around, and walked to his room. The door slammed shut with a loud bang.
Aarya jumped, her little body trembling at the sound. The silence that followed felt too big, too sharp. Her lip quivered—and then she broke down completely, crying out loud, her small hands covering her face.
The noise of her sobs reached Shaurya instantly. He had just stepped out of his room when he froze at the sound. His heartbeat quickened as instinct took over, and within seconds, he was at her side.
Aarya was sitting on the floor, shaking with tears, while Eve knelt beside her, rubbing her back helplessly.
Shaurya crouched down immediately, scooping his daughter into his arms. Her cries grew softer, muffled against his chest, but her tears soaked through his T-shirt. His face darkened—not with anger, but with something deeper. He'd never seen her cry like this before. And it broke something in him.
"What happened?" His tone was low and cold, eyes flicking up to Eve. "Why is she crying?"
Eve shifted slightly under his gaze. "It's... it's been a rough morning. Aarav saw the news, he wasn't taking it well. Then Aarya came out with this ribbon," she explained, handing it to him. "She said she accidentally tore it."
Shaurya's brows furrowed as he looked down at the piece of silk. His grip tightened around it.
The ribbon.
He hadn't seen it in years. He thought it was gone—lost that day when Aarav had thrown it at him in anger. He had searched for it like crazy before giving up. But it had been here all along. Aarav had kept it.
A strange ache twisted in his chest.
Aarya was still crying quietly against him, hiccuping now, and Eve was murmuring something soft in the background.
"I don't understand," Eve said helplessly. "Aarav didn't even scold her. Why is she crying so much?"
Shaurya glanced down at the ribbon again, then back at Aarya. Her face was red and blotchy, her eyes puffy. He softened instantly.
"Aarya, look at me," Shaurya said gently, cupping her cheek.
Aarya sniffled but turned her tear-streaked face toward him.
"You're crying because you think you made your papa sad, right?" he asked softly.
Aarya nodded, her chin wobbling.
Shaurya's lips curved into a faint, reassuring smile. " This ribbon is very special.To your papa and to me. I gave it to him a long time ago—when we got married."
Aarya blinked up at him, her crying slowing.
"And you know what?" Shaurya continued, brushing away her tears with his thumb. "We can get it fixed. It's just a ribbon. Aap mat ro".
"Really?" Aarya asked, voice small.
"Really," Shaurya said warmly. "But that doesn't mean you shouldn't apologize to your papa. Even small things can mean a lot to people. And this isn't a small thing. He kept this safe for many years."
Aarya sniffed again. "But he's... he's angry."
Shaurya shook his head slowly, his tone soft and sure. "He's not angry at you. I promise."
Aarya's little fingers twisted into his shirt. "Can you come with me? I don't want to go alone."
Shaurya smiled faintly, pressing a kiss to her hair. "Of course I'll come with you. But I need to talk to your papa alone first. Is it okay?" Shaurya asked. Aarya nodded. Shaurya then held her hands and kissed on her palms. He stood up and went inside Aarav's room.
Aarav sat on the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his knees, staring at the floor as if it might swallow him whole.
"Shaurya, I don't want to talk right now. Please," he said quietly, his voice frayed.
"But I do," Shaurya replied, stepping further into the room.
Aarav's shoulders tensed. "Why can't you just listen to me once? Please, leave me alone."
Instead, Shaurya reached out, pulling Aarav from the bed and pressing him back against the wall.
"We weren't done yesterday," he said, his forehead resting against Aarav's. "I wasn't done with you."
"Shaurya, seriously—stop."
"I don't like seeing you with Yug. I don't like how close you two are."
"Who the hell are you to say that?" Aarav snapped.
"I'm your husband."
"You're not my husband. I think you've lost your mind."
"Then why are you still keeping this?" Shaurya asked, holding up the torn ribbon.
Aarav's gaze flicked to it—just once—before he snatched it from Shaurya's hand. "Don't touch it."
"Why not?"
"Because it belongs to someone who wanted me," Aarav said, his tone sharp as glass.
"I still want you, Aarav."
Aarav let out a bitter laugh. "Oh really? Then let me remind you of a few things." He pushed Shaurya back, the distance between them heavy with years of pain.
"You stayed because of Aarya. You stayed only after finding out you had a daughter. Do you even remember how you used to look at me before that? How you couldn't stand being near me? How you pushed me away every time I tried to talk to you?" Aarav's voice was breaking now, his eyes turning red.
"I know you're tired, Shaurya—tired of us. And I'm not forcing you to stay. You can go back. We were doing fine without you."
"Who told you that?" Shaurya's tone hardened.
"I heard you talking to Dadi," Aarav said flatly. "You're only here because she asked you to stay. And honestly, I'm not surprised. It's easy for you to let go of things, isn't it?"
Shaurya didn't answer. The silence between them felt endless.
"But today," Aarav continued, voice shaking, "I feel awful.
I feel like I've sinned. I hurt Yug. He cared about me—he wanted us to be something.
And I knew that. But even then, I couldn't stop thinking about what you would think.
Some part of me still thought you'd come back.
That you'd... accept me again. But you didn't. You don't even want to stay.
" His breath hitched. "And still, my heart keeps running back to you. "
"Aarav..." Shaurya stepped closer, trying to hold him.
"Don't touch me," Aarav warned, tears trembling in his voice.
"I've already forgiven you. You can go. But I don't want things to change again.
Aarya can't live without you." He let out a shaky laugh.
"Yes, I'm selfish. I know that. I was selfish when I left you.
I could've come back, but my pride wouldn't let me.
And I was selfish again keeping Yug around, hoping I could love him someday.
But I couldn't. Because he isn't you. He'll never be you. And now I've broken him too."
He looked away, voice barely above a whisper. "So just go, Shaurya."
Shaurya closed the distance in two steps, pulling Aarav into his arms despite the resistance. Aarav's body stayed rigid, anger humming beneath his skin.
"Please," Aarav muttered, voice trembling. "Don't hold me."
But Shaurya only held him tighter, burying Aarav's face against his chest. Aarav didn't fight. He didn't cry. He just stayed still, hollow.
"What the hell did I do, Shaurya?" he whispered into the quiet.
Shaurya stroked the back of his head. After a long silence, he spoke softly, trying to ease the air. "You didn't shower, did you? You're quite smelling."
Aarav pulled away immediately heading straight into the bathroom. Shaurya sighed, sinking onto the bed.
There was so much running through Aarav's mind—so much he didn't say. It would be wrong to claim he had moved on. Because Shaurya knew Aarav was alone as well. They both were alone without each other.
Shaurya unlocked his phone and saw the news: photos of Aarav and Yug smiling, holding hands, laughing. Then came the cruel comments from strangers, the way they questioned Aarav's worth, his identity, his right to exist.
Shaurya knew that was why Aarav never returned to Amritnagar—because the crown was heavy, and the world was unkind to men who loved like him.
And yes, Shaurya had told Dadi he was tired.
But not of Aarav. Not of Aarya. He was tired of the mafia, of the blood-soaked world he could never truly leave.
It had been years since he'd led a meeting himself; his father or Ravi always took his place.
Living here, with Aarav and Aarya, had brought him peace he didn't know he could have—and now he couldn't imagine giving that up.
But duty had sharp teeth, and the mafia didn't forget its own.
Half an hour passed. Aarav still hadn't come out. Shaurya finally knocked.
"Aarav?" he called. No response.
A few minutes later, the door opened. Aarav stepped out, damp hair falling over his forehead, wrapped in a robe. He didn't look at Shaurya as he walked to the closet.
Shaurya inhaled deeply, catching the scent of soap and something that was just... Aarav. It was maddening how even now, even in this situation, it can make him beg for Aarav. Aarav pulled out a fresh boxer from the drawer.
"You're not wearing one right now?" Shaurya asked before he could stop himself.
Aarav looked over his shoulder, deadpan. "Uh, no. Can you please go out? I need to change."
Shaurya's lips curved slightly. "It's not like I haven't seen anything before."
Aarav's glare could have cut through steel.
"Shaurya," Aarav warned, voice low and strained. But of course, Shaurya didn't listen.
He stepped closer, fingers brushing Aarav's shoulder as he slowly turned him around.
His gaze darkened — quiet, intent, consuming.
Before Aarav could protest, Shaurya slipped his hand to the knot of the bathrobe and loosened it.
The robe slid open, whispering down Aarav's skin before pooling soundlessly at his feet.
Shaurya's breath hitched. For a moment, he said nothing — just looked, eyes tracing every familiar line as if trying to remember what he'd lost.
The view so majestic that Shaurya felt like losing his mind but then his eyes went towards Aarav's face.
"Who the fuck touched you there?" he growled, eyes burning as they locked onto the tattoos dancing along Aarav's upper thighs and abdomen.
"The tattoo artist, genius," Aarav snapped, rolling his eyes even as a shiver ran down his spine from the gravel in his voice.
Shaurya grabbed his ass with sudden force, dragging Aarav against him.
"Let go of me, you bastard!" he struggled, pushing against his chest with every ounce of strength four years of gym had given him. It was like trying to move stone. Useless.Aarav sweared he wanted a refund.
But he was already sinking to his knees.
And just like that, his mouth was on Aarav's thighs—hot, rough, claiming. Each kiss was fire, each lick over inked skin stoked something dangerous inside Aarav. Then his teeth grazed his hip, and Aarav moaned before he could stop it.
His tongue trailed higher, tracing the outline of every memory etched on the skin, and Aarav's body responded—but his mind screamed.
Burnt vows.
Lies wrapped in promises.
"Stop." Aarav's fingers twisted in his hair—he yanked. Hard. He pulled back, just enough to look up at Aarav with eyes that didn't ask for permission.
He stood in a slow, predator's motion, the smirk spreading across his lips like sin itself. Aarav slapped him. Hard. The crack echoed in the space between us.
He didn't flinch. He didn't retreat. He just smirked.
Then he grabbed Aarav again, this time with raw, magnetic defiance. Aarav's bare back met the cold metal of his belt as he pulled him flush against him. His breath hit his ear.
And suddenly, Aarav wasn't sure if he hated it, or if he hated how much he still wanted to burn.
His body slammed into Aarav like memory — fast, hot, and reckless.
They weren't careful anymore. They didn't need to be. This wasn't about tenderness. It was about the years of silence, the taste of names never spoken again, the ache of everything they never got to finish.
Aarav let him take him — fully, deeply — because there was no point pretending. His body wanted Shaurya. His soul wanted him.
He gripped his hips and pulled him toward the edge of the bed, eyes locked onto Aarav's as he sank his dick inside Aarav, slow at first — deliberate — watching every flicker in Aarav's face. But once Aarav moaned, once his legs clenched tighter around him, he lost it. They both did.
The rhythm became rough. Urgent.
Their bodies slammed together, again and again, the sound of skin, breath, and heat filling the room.
"Baby, relax. You're too tight". He said massaging Aarav's lower back.
He then pushed his knees back, deeper angle, deeper everything — and Aarav cursed his name between gasps. His hand slid between them, fingers rough and fast, stroking where Aarav needed it most. Aarav's back arched, muscles tensed. He was already close, and he knew it.
"God, you still fall apart the same way," he growled against his ear, biting down on his shoulder as his thrusts grew harsher.
Aarav clawed at his back, leaving marks.
His mouth was on his throat, biting, licking, punishing.
Then his lips. Shaurya kissed him hard, breathless and open-mouthed, teeth clashing — not romantic.
Raw. As if he was distracting Aarav from how fast he was slamming his dick inside him.
Aarav felt like his ass would tear apart any moment.
"Fuck, you have become bigger. Ahh..."
Aarav's body tensed, and he cried out — sharp and broken — as he came with his name in his mouth, legs trembling around his waist. Shaurya kept going, chasing his own edge now, every movement more desperate, more ragged.
Then Aarav felt it — the way he grunted low in his throat, the way he cursed against his lips, the way his body jolted as he spilled inside Aarav, holding him down like he couldn't bear to let Aarav go just yet.
But he would.
They stayed tangled, bodies sweat-slicked and heaving. He didn't pull out right away. His forehead rested on Aarav, breath ragged, both of them completely silent. No words. Just the pulse of the moment dying down around them.
After a while, he slipped out, quietly, almost reverently. He sat on the edge of the bed, head in his hands, shoulders rising and falling.
Aarav turned away first. He didn't want to look at him too long.
Because this was never going to be love again. They both knew.
It was release.
Suddenly, Aarav felt warmth streaming down his cheeks — hot, silent, unrelenting. Aarav was crying. He buried his face into the sheets, trying to muffle the hiccups that shook through him, but they caught Shaurya's attention.
Aarav didn't look up, but he felt him move. The bed shifted as he came closer. His hands touched Aarav's hips gently, reverently, as if Aarav was something fragile that might break beneath his fingers.
He didn't say a word. He didn't try to touch Aarav more than he could take. Instead, he lay down beside Aarav, his warmth curling around Aarav's body like a memory. He slid one arm beneath Aarav's head and slowly turned his face toward him. His other hand stroked his hair, soft and steady.
"You think I'll leave again," he said quietly, reading the fear Aarav couldn't voice.
"You will," Aarav whispered, voice breaking. "You always do."
"Only if you want me to."
"I want..." Aarav's throat tightened. "I want you to be gone, Shaurya. You need to go. I don't want you to regret."
Aarav's eyes blurred again as he said it, the words slipping out between shaky breaths. Shaurya didn't argue. He just nodded. Not in agreement — in understanding.
Still, he pulled Aarav closer. This time, Aarav didn't resist.
Aarav clung to him, burying himself in his bare chest, and he held him like he never wanted to let go. His lips pressed soft kisses into my hair, one after another, saying everything he couldn't put into words.
"Hum kal chale jaayenge," he murmured, voice steady but low, full of ache.
Aarav closed his eyes and let the tears fall freely.
"I love you, Shaurya. I didn't want to. I really didn't. Par ho gya Shaurya. I love you so much. I'm not okay without you." Aarav said. Not loudly. Not dramatically. Just honestly — like it had been sitting on his tongue for years, waiting for the silence to break.
Shaurya just held Aarav tighter.