CHAPTER 69! VOICE NOTE
When I opened my eyes the next morning, the first thing I felt was warmth.
Familiar. Heavy. Safe.
My cheek was pressed against Aryav's chest, his arm pinned over my waist, his fingers resting lightly on my hip as though he'd fallen asleep holding onto me.
For a few seconds, I didn't move. The room was quiet, except for the steady, rhythmic sound of his breathing.
Then I remembered.
My eyes flew open.
Last night. The fight. The gym. And then... everything after.
Heat rushed violently into my face. My skin turned hot, then burning.
No. No, no, no.
I squeezed my eyes shut and buried my face into his neck, wishing with everything in me that the mattress would open up and swallow me whole.
I couldn't think about it. I couldn't think about the things I'd said, or the way I'd pulled him close, or how easily all my restraint had dissolved the moment he touched me.
Shit, Aadhira. You are an idiot.
I'd spent months being careful around him. Careful with my words, careful with my boundaries, making sure I kept a sensible distance. And in a single night, I had acted completely out of my mind.
"God," I whispered into the quiet room, my breath warm against his skin. "What is wrong with me?"
I needed to get out of bed before he woke up. Right now.
Holding my breath, I reached for his arm, my hands shaking as I tried to lift his heavy forearm off my waist millimeter by millimeter, treating it like a sack of cement.
Please don't wake up. Please don't.
I slipped backward toward the edge of the bed and pulled the heavy blanket aside to swing my legs over-and froze.
My eyes fell on his left shoulder.
Faint red streaks crossed his skin, ending in a cluster of small, sharp marks. My breath caught in my throat, and a painful prickle spread down my neck.
I looked down at my own fingernails, then back at his shoulder.
Oh, God.
I covered my face with both hands, biting the inside of my lip until it hurt. In the dark, I hadn't thought about the morning.
But now, in the clear light of seven a.m., I couldn't even look at him without wanting to disappear.
Did I really do this? Me, the innocent Aadhira? How?
Just get up and hide somewhere before he wakes up, Aadhira. That's the best option.
Holding my breath, I lowered my feet to the floor. But the second my toes touched the cold marble and I tried to stand-
A sharp, heavy ache shot through my lower back and thighs.
"Ah-"
My knees buckled immediately. I grabbed the edge of the nightstand to steady myself, knocking a glass of water against the wood.
It rattled loudly in the quiet room as I landed back on the edge of the mattress with a heavy, clumsy thud.
I froze, my heart in my throat.
Radha Rani, please don't let him wake up. Main mandir mein prasad chadhaungi.
[Radha Rani, please don't let him wake up. I will offer sweet offerings at the temple.]
Beside me, the sheets rustled.
Aryav shifted, his dark eyes opening almost immediately. "Aadhira?"
His voice was thick and raspy with sleep, his hair falling messily over his forehead. He squinted at me, taking in my rigid, frozen posture.
I went completely stiff, feeling like a thief caught red-handed.
He pushed himself up on one elbow, his brows pulling together. "What happened? What was that sound?"
I looked at him for a fraction of a second, then immediately whipped my head around to stare fixedly at the curtain rod across the room.
"Nothing," I said, my voice coming out way too fast and high-pitched. "I just... slipped."
His eyebrows knitted tighter. "Slipped? On the bed?"
"Yes."
"While sitting down?"
I snapped my head back toward him, trying to scowl to hide the sheer panic in my chest.
Haan poochho. Aise poochho jaise tumhein bilkul pata hi nahi hai.
[Ask. Ask as if you have no idea at all.]
Aryav stared at me for a long moment. Then, slowly, the sleep cleared from his eyes, and a subtle shift happened in his expression as he sat up.
He was bare-chested, all those damning scratch marks exposed in the morning light.
"You were trying to sneak out, weren't you?" he asked, his voice low.
My face went up in flames. "I was not sneaking out! I was going to the bathroom."
"Then why are you sitting there looking like you're about to cry?"
"I am not about to cry!" I choked out, desperately grabbing the blanket to drag it over my lap. "And even if I am, whose fault do you think this is?"
Aryav paused, his gaze dropping to my pale, rigid posture.
"Mine," he said calmly, stepping off the bed. "Which is why you're not going to force yourself to walk right now. Let me help."
Before I could dodge away or scoot backward, he reached down, slid one arm under my knees and the other around my back, and lifted me in one smooth movement.
"Aryav! Put me down!" My hands flew to his shoulders, my heart hammering against my ribs. "I can walk!"
"No, you can't," he said flatly, walking straight toward the bathroom. "You almost took out the nightstand two seconds ago."
"I tripped!"
"Sure you did."
He set me down gently on the stool by the vanity. I immediately folded my hands in my lap, staring intently at the floor, unable to meet his gaze.
He didn't tease me further. Turning on the brass taps, he adjusted the warm water in the bathtub, poured in bath salts, and tested the temperature with his hand.
He was completely unfazed while I sat there feeling like my skin was on fire.
When he turned back around, he took in how rigid and flushed I was.
The quiet, watchful stillness returned to his face, softening any hint of a teasing smirk.
"Do you need help, or can you manage?" he asked softly.
"I can manage," I whispered, keeping my eyes glued to my lap. "Please... just go outside."
Aryav looked at me for a second longer, then nodded. "I'll be right outside the door. Don't try to stand up too fast."
He stepped out and pulled the door shut, giving me privacy.
I let out a long breath I hadn't realized I was holding. I slid into the warm bath, letting out a quiet shudder as the water began to soak into my aching muscles, unknotting the sharp stiffness in my legs.
But my mind remained in a tailspin.
How was I supposed to walk downstairs? How was I supposed to look at his family over breakfast?
After fifteen minutes, I drained the tub, dried off, and carefully dressed in a simple, light cotton salwar suit-nothing fancy, just soft, loose fabric.
My hands were still trembling slightly as I pulled the dupatta over my shoulders.
When I stepped back into the bedroom, Aryav was standing near the bed, sliding his watch onto his wrist.
He was freshly showered and wearing a crisp dark shirt.
On the counter beside him, his phone suddenly vibrated against the marble, its screen lighting up with an unsaved number.
I stared at it. Wait. Didn't he break his phone last night? And he already has a new one this morning?
Huh. Billionaire things.
Then I caught myself.
Who is calling him? Why did I even care who was calling?
...Unless it was Sameera.
If that was Sameera's message, I was personally going to smash his head into that mirror.
Aryav didn't pick it up immediately, but I felt a sudden, subtle shift in the room. His jaw tightened, his eyes darkening into something cold and distant-that sharp, unyielding version of him that dealt with the family business and the dangerous elements outside our doors.
Then the screen went dark, and the hardness melted away as he turned to look at me.
"You okay?" he asked.
"A little," I murmured, keeping my distance.
"Breakfast is ready downstairs," he said, adjusting his collar. "Tara was asking about you earlier."
My heart did a violent flip. "She was? What did you tell her?"
"I said you were sleeping." He walked over, stopping in front of me. "What else would I tell her?"
"Nothing! Just... don't say anything weird downstairs. Please. Can you just shut up for today?"
A tiny, quiet shift appeared at the corner of his lips. "Aadhira, no one knows anything, nobody is thinking about what you're thinking about. Just walk slowly."
I shot him a glare, though there was zero venom in it.
We walked out into the long, open hallway together. I tried my best to walk normally, but my steps were stiff and slightly shorter than usual.
As we reached the top of the grand staircase, the sounds of the morning floated up from below-the clinking of chai cups against saucers, the quiet murmur of the news on TV, and his mother's voice calling out to the cook.
The entire family was downstairs.
My feet glued themselves to the marble floor.
"Aryav," I whispered urgently, grabbing his forearm.
He stopped and looked down at my hand, then up at my face. "What?"
"Go and check how many people are down there," I hissed, my palms getting sweaty. "I can't go down like this. What if someone notices?"
In a traditional household, coming downstairs looking sore and walking stiffly at eight in the morning felt like an absolute, broadcasted declaration. I was going to disintegrate on the spot.
"Aryav, I swear to God, I will never look dadi in the eye again," I whimpered. "Please."
Aryav sighed softly and turned his body toward me. He didn't make a scene, nor did he pick me up. He knew if he carried me down those stairs in front of his entire family, I would actually pass out from embarrassment.
Instead, he reached out and took my hand in his-his grip solid, warm, and grounding. He stepped slightly in front of me, partially blocking the view from below.
"Take a breath," he said quietly, his voice low enough that only I could hear. "No one is staring at you. Hold my hand, take your time, and just walk down."
I looked up at him-at the quiet certainty in his eyes, at the steady warmth of his hand wrapping around mine.
"Okay," I whispered, biting my lower lip.
"And Aadhira?" he added, his thumb lightly brushing the back of my hand.
"Yeah?"
"Stop blushing. That's what's going to give you away."