71.
Days slipped by faster than any of them expected.
Shaurya continued working while staying with Aarav, and, as instructed, Ravi brought him every file—every record, every name, every detail of each staff member working in the mansion.
Vedansh Shekhawat had returned as well, and he made his intentions clear: he wanted Shaurya to take over as the head of the family and the mafia soon.
There was no doubt Shaurya needed to be in Amritnagar. But he had asked for some time—he wasn't ready to leave Aarav alone, not again, not suddenly.
Meanwhile, Yug's mother's health deteriorated rapidly. Talking became impossible; even lifting her head was too much effort. She simply stared at people with empty eyes. Yug wasn't even sure if she recognized him anymore—there was no reaction when he spoke, no spark of recognition, nothing.
Aarav, on the other hand, was drowning in work. His days were filled with business meetings, and his nights were spent awake—sometimes working on designs, sometimes admiring his two loves, Aarya and Shaurya, snuggled together in their sleep.
Aarya and Vayu had bonded so well that Vayu simply refused to go back. So Vayu stayed with them too, happily claiming half of Aarya's toys and all of Shaurya's attention.
Which meant Eve now had not one but two children to take care of—and she looked like she was about five minutes away from filing an official complaint to God.
"Hey," Shaurya said quietly as he sat beside Yug. Yug was slumped forward outside his mother's room, fingers buried in his hair. When he looked up, Shaurya saw everything —deep dark circles, red eyes, exhaustion that clung to him like a shadow.
"You didn't sleep at all, did you?" Shaurya asked.
Yug didn't answer. His silence said enough.
Shaurya shifted closer and placed a firm hand on Yug's back, rubbing slow circles—gentle but grounding.
"Yug," he said softly, waiting until Yug met his eyes. "Listen to me. We've had this conversation once, but I'll say it again. You're one of us now. My people. And I never leave my people behind."
He paused, voice low but steady.
"You're my family now. I don't know in what sense exactly—but you are. Will you... take me as yours too?"
A small, tired chuckle escaped Yug as he wiped at his eyes. He nodded.
"Well," Yug said, voice hoarse, "normally people hug at times like this... but you— I don't know. You don't seem like the hugging type. Aarav would've hugged me though."
Shaurya huffed a quiet laugh, stroking a hand over his beard as if hiding his smile.
Silence settled between them—quiet, heavy, but not uncomfortable. Nurses walked by every now and then, throwing sympathetic glances their way. Some even whispered, confused about why Shaurya Shekhawat was here at four in the morning... with Yug Khurana of all people.
Then suddenly—
The monitor inside began to beep wildly.
Yug shot to his feet and rushed into the room. Shaurya followed a step behind. Yug's mother was gasping for breath, her chest rising in shallow, desperate jerks.
Doctors swarmed around her, checking vitals, murmuring to each other... but their eyes told the truth.
They knew.
And Yug understood too—he stood frozen at the foot of the bed, watching helplessly.
A few seconds later, the beeping stretched into one long, unwavering tone.
A straight line on the heart monitor.
Yug's mother exhaled her last breath.
Yug walked to her slowly—almost mechanically—and lowered himself onto the stool beside the bed. He didn't cry. Didn't shake. He just took her hand in both of his and held it tightly, staring at her face as though willing her to look back at him one last time.
Shaurya sent a text to Aarav to come, then stood silently by the door. Aarav arrived just a few minutes later, Ravi right behind him.
"Yug," Aarav said softly as he stepped inside. He glanced at Shaurya before moving toward Yug. His eyes fell on Yug's mother's still body, and he took a long, steady breath.
"Yug," he repeated gently, placing a hand on Yug's arm.
Yug sucked in a shaky breath but didn't look up.
Aarav quietly sat beside him, a hand settling on Yug's shoulder.
And then, suddenly, Yug let go of his mother's hand and leaned forward, pulling Aarav into a tight hug.
He still didn't cry—his body just trembled against Aarav's.
Aarav held him firmly.
"It's okay. I'm here. We're here. You'll be okay," he whispered.
Shaurya and Ravi stepped forward, touched Yug's mother's feet in respect, and slipped out of the room. The hallway was cold and nearly empty at this hour.
"Aarav, can you leave me for sometime. I want to be alone with her"
Aarav nodded and silently went outside.
Ravi leaned against the wall with his arms folded, eyes lowered. Shaurya looked lost in his own mind, and Aarav instantly knew what he was thinking about—his mother, and how cruelly she had died.
Aarav walked straight up to him and pulled him into a hug. Shaurya wrapped his arms around him, breathing him in, kissing the top of Aarav's head.
"Aarav," Shaurya said, pulling back and cupping Aarav's face with both hands. His thumbs brushed Aarav's cheeks as he looked deep into his eyes. "I have to go back to Amritnagar."
Aarav held onto his wrists.
"When will you return?" he whispered.
"I'll try to be back as soon as possible, baby," Shaurya said. "But I need you to take care of yourself, Yug... and our daughter."
Aarav looked down, exhaling shakily. Then he looked up at Shaurya again, his eyes filling. When the first tear rolled down, Shaurya's expression cracked. That was the one thing he couldn't stand—Aarav crying.
"Hey, hey," Shaurya whispered, pulling him into another hug. "I'll come back. I promise."
"I know," Aarav said, wiping his cheeks quickly. "I'll be waiting for you. And... I guess next time I see you, I'll be meeting the head of the family."
Shaurya gave a small, sad smile.
"Hum apne bhagwan ko apne aap se door kar diya tha... yeh galti phir se nahi hogi," he murmured, lifting Aarav's hand to his lips first, then leaning in to kiss his forehead.
Aarav's lips trembled.
"Bye," he whispered.
Shaurya nodded. Then he turned slightly and signaled Ravi. Ravi gave a short nod back and walked past them into the room where Yug was still sitting beside his mother.
Yug looked up weakly.
"Ravi?"
"Hum aapke liye dua karenge," Ravi said quietly before walking out again, not waiting for Yug to respond. Yug just swallowed and exhaled heavily.
Shaurya unlocked the door quietly, but Aarya was already awake. The moment the door clicked, she peeked out from behind the couch, tiny eyes widening.
"Dadda?" Her little feet pattered across the floor before she threw her arms around him.
Shaurya crouched down immediately, steadying her against his chest. He always smiled when he saw her—always—but today, he couldn't bring himself to. Aarya noticed. She studied his face intently, her small fingers cupping his cheeks like she was trying to fix whatever was wrong.
"Where's Papa?" she asked softly.
"He's with Yug Uncle right now," Shaurya said, brushing her hair behind her ear. "He'll come back soon."
Aarya nodded, but her eyes didn't leave his face.
"Dadda... what happened?" she whispered, thumb lightly stroking his jaw. The gentleness in her voice nearly broke him.
Shaurya inhaled slowly.
"Will you be angry with me?" he asked.
Aarya blinked at him, confused. Then she shook her head so hard her curls bounced.
"No."
Shaurya exhaled, his shoulders sinking as he held her tiny hands in his much larger ones.
"I have to go somewhere, princess. And... I won't be here for a little while."
The confusion on her face twisted into a frown.
"Why?" she asked, voice trembling.
"I have some work," Shaurya said quietly. "But Dadda will come back. I promise."
Aarya's lips wobbled. She stepped closer and grabbed the front of his shirt.
"I want to go with you," she said, her voice cracking.
Shaurya pulled her into his arms and held her tightly, pressing his cheek to her head.
"You can't come where I'm going," he murmured. "Not this time."
Aarya pushed back just enough to look at him. Her eyes were filling, and before Shaurya could say more, she whispered accusingly—
"You and Papa are the same. You never take me with you. You both don't love me. You only do your work."
Shaurya froze.
Then he immediately cupped the back of her head and pulled her close again, his own eyes stinging. Aarya felt his breath tremble against her shoulder.
"Princess," he said, his voice barely steady, "nothing... nothing in this world is more important to me and your Papa than you."
Aarya's tears slid down her cheeks. Shaurya wiped them gently with his thumb, his face softening in a rare, fragile way only she ever saw.
"I'm your Dadda first," he said. "Before anything else. And I'm so sorry that I make you feel like you're waiting for me all the time."
He tilted her chin up lightly.
"But forgive me just this once. Let me go... this one last time. After this, wherever I am—you will be with me. You, me, and Papa. Always together. I promise."
Aarya stared at him for a moment, tears rolling silently.
Then her tiny hands lifted shakily and held his face.
"I love you, Dadda," she whispered—and then she broke, sobbing.
Shaurya closed his eyes, pulled her tightly to his chest, and held her like she was the only thing keeping him standing.
"I love you too," he whispered into her hair.
Eve, standing by the counter, wiped her own tears. When Aarya finally loosened her little fists from Shaurya's shirt, Eve stepped forward and wrapped an arm around her, soothing her while Shaurya brushed a final kiss on his daughter's forehead.
His expression was still stoic... but gentler than ever. The way Aarya held his face... it stole the air right out of his lungs. Exactly like his mother used to.
The small palms bracketing his cheeks, the tiny frown forming between her brows, the way her light, sun-bright eyes glistened with emotion—Shaurya felt time fold in on itself. For a moment, he wasn't standing in Aarav's apartment but pulled back into a memory he guarded more fiercely than anything.
His mother had looked at him the same way whenever he came home bruised from training, whenever he pretended he wasn't hurting. That same stubborn, gentle intensity lived in Aarya's eyes.
He cupped the back of her head, brushing his thumb over her temple. How could he ever be away from this child?
This little angel who carried traces of the only woman who had ever held him the way Aarya did now—until Aarav came along.
His chest tightened painfully.
She was his softness.
His anchor.
His childhood comfort reborn in the shape of his daughter.
And as he looked at her, Shaurya knew—leaving her, even for a short while, might just be the hardest thing he'd ever done.