Chapter 16 #3
"Promise me you won’t ever take Siya to him," Akansha repeated, sternly—ignoring Richa’s words, or pretending to.
In truth, her heart broke at how harshly she was speaking to her.
She knew everything Richa had done for her and Siya—she would never forget it—but she had to be firm, even cold, to prevent this from happening again.
"I won’t," Richa said finally, her voice heavy. She knew Akansha wouldn’t let it go otherwise—and if she refused, Akansha might actually restrict her access to Siya. When it came to her daughter, Akansha could go to any extent.
But Richa still couldn’t understand why Akansha hated Shaurya so much—when, as far as she knew, he had nothing to do with what had happened to her that day.
What she didn’t know was that she only knew half the story—and that incident was only a fraction of the reason Akansha didn’t want Siya anywhere near him.
Akansha nodded and sat down on the sofa, while Richa walked away, hurt and upset.
Akansha exhaled deeply, cursing Shaurya in her mind for bringing this chaos back into her life.
"Why are you back now, Shaurya? What do you want from me?" she whispered to herself.
Moments from earlier that afternoon flashed through her mind—especially those silent exchanges, those eye gestures. She shut her eyes tightly, trying to block them out—and the unwanted effect they were having on her.
"No matter what you do, I will never allow you back into my life. Because this time, it’s more than my heart at stake... You don’t deserve to know about Siya’s existence," she whispered, her heart turning cold again.
Shaurya could still affect her—he was her first love, the first and last man she would ever be with—but none of that was enough to make her tell him about Siya. Because one thing would always be missing: trust.
He had lost that the day he betrayed her in the name of "retribution." And this—this was his punishment: to live his entire life without knowing about his daughter.
For a fleeting second, it felt unfair to him.
But the moment she remembered his past actions, her emotions froze over again.
Then a thought struck her—
Was she being unfair to her daughter too?
Tears slipped down her cheeks, but she held herself together, refusing to break.
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Days passed, and she went to meet Shaurya regarding the extension of the deadline.
He raised some questions, and she answered them.
He deliberately posed a few questions that couldn’t be answered immediately, then gave her time and asked her to meet him the next day or after a few days.
Akansha hated all of this, but she had no choice.
She desperately wanted to quit, but she couldn’t, as she had signed a contract with the government that couldn’t be broken without unforeseen circumstances.
Otherwise, she would have thrown the resignation letter on his face by now.
Shweta’s doubts about Shaurya were increasing day by day, seeing Akansha’s nervousness and occasional anguish during these meetings.
Shaurya’s motive behind these frequent meetings was to calm her anger before initiating any real conversation—apart from being a form of stress relief for his mind and pure joy and bliss for his heart.
Akansha wasn’t naive enough to miss what he was doing.
The joy on his face every time he saw her—as if he had won a lottery—made her heart skip a beat.
Shaurya wasn’t like other men; he didn’t have many expectations from his woman.
He believed in giving, and if he received even a fraction of his love in return, it meant everything to him.
And Akansha returning his love had once been his greatest delight.
He had fallen in love with her so deeply that, for a moment, he had forgotten his real motive.
Everything he did for her had come from love, not strategy—and that was exactly why the truth had shattered her so deeply.
These meetings did bring back those memories from when they were together, when she hadn’t known his true intentions—but that didn’t erase reality.
She hated him, and she wouldn’t let him re-enter her life, because this time, it wasn’t just her heart at stake—it was her daughter.
After a few weeks, Akansha got frustrated. If he postponed the decision one more time, she would smash his head—she had decided that before walking into his office.
They continued their discussion, and Shaurya was about to say “next time” again when she interrupted him.
"Are you even serious? You are wasting my time as well as yours. You are the Chief Minister—this time isn’t just yours, it belongs to crores of people.
You are disappointing them and their trust in you.
What am I even expecting—and from whom? Trust and you are poles apart.
Those stupid people trusted you—at least have some shame before doing something like this," Akansha burst out.
"Disgusting man," she muttered under her breath.
He caught it. And it stung—but he steadied himself. If not his wife, who else would call him out like this?
"Done? Now can I say something?" he asked. She glared at him, but her silence gave him permission to continue. "We’ll discuss and finalize this tomorrow."
That was it. She was furious again, her control hanging by a thread.
"A man like you would give a speech on ‘accountability and responsibility’ in your first Parliament address? Shame," she said, turning her face away in disgust.
But instead of reacting, he smiled—wide, almost boyish.
"Wait—you heard my first Parliament speech?" Shaurya asked, his voice unexpectedly filled with excitement.
Akansha looked at him like he had lost his mind.
"I had to—because of my best friend. I was forced to. Otherwise, I would have never looked at your face, let alone listened to your speech," she spat.
He exhaled slowly—finally. After days, she had stopped masking it.
"Anyway, stop wasting my time as well as yours. At least be responsible toward your role. Not everyone gets the opportunity to do good for society. I belong to the people of this state too, and I want the best for us and for future generations," she said coldly.
"I’m not bad, Akansha. I may be a bad husband, but I’m trying to be a good leader. I might not be the best, but my efforts are genuine," he said quietly. Who else could he explain himself to, if not her?
"Efforts? Are these your efforts? Anyway, that’s none of my business. Just don’t waste my time," she replied.
He sighed and took a step toward her.
"Don’t come any further," she warned sharply, stopping him in his tracks.
"Fine. Just hear me out. The half an hour I allot you every few days—it comes from my break time. I barely take breaks for lunch or tea, and even those turn into work meetings. If my schedule allows, I take five minutes in the garden—that’s it.
And that’s the time I give you. Because you give me more peace than that garden or anything else in this world.
My mental health has improved because of these meetings.
And no—I’m not wasting people’s time or resources.
Every minute after you leave, I work with ten times the efficiency," Shaurya said.
Akansha stared at him, her glare sharp and unyielding. His words didn’t soften her—they confused her for a second before frustrating her even more. What was he even saying? Peace? Was she his therapist now?
"What about my time?" she demanded, slamming her palms on the table.
"Consider it patriotism. You sacrificed your time for a better society. If your Chief Minister works more efficiently, it benefits the people. And don’t tell me you don’t see improvements—because there are," he said.
She had no immediate comeback. And that annoyed her even more.
"Bloody nonsense," she muttered, grabbing her bag.
"See you next time. We’ll finalize the extension then," Shaurya added.
That was the last straw.
She stormed out—only to come face to face with Shweta, who stood there with a determined expression. Akansha immediately caught the look in her eyes.
"He asked to meet again?" Shweta asked, repeating the question, as this had become a pattern.
Akansha nodded.
"This has never happened before. Are you sure you are alright? You are not hiding anything, right, Dr. Dixit?" Shweta asked again.
Akansha sighed before nodding once more, but it was clear Shweta didn’t believe her this time.
There was nothing Akansha could do. And now, her anger and fury toward Shaurya stopped her from defending him in any way.
If Shweta thought he was harassing her, then so be it, Akansha decided, before leaving after blocking time for her next meeting with him.
A few days passed. On the day of Akansha’s visit, as always, Shaurya looked more excited and visibly happy. No one paid much attention to it—but Mr. Sharma and Shweta did.
It was an hour before Akansha was supposed to arrive, and Shweta had had enough. She decided she couldn’t continue working under a man she now perceived as cheap. She felt unsafe. She had never imagined she would feel this way in the Secretariat—not under Shaurya’s leadership—but here she was.
She knocked. After Shaurya’s "Come in," she entered.
"Sir... I would like to return to my previous position on the administrative side. Please allow me to," she said, submitting her request letter, catching Shaurya off guard.
"Mrs. Gupta? Is everything alright? I thought you were going to be my assistant for as long as I’m in office," Shaurya said gently.
"I thought so too... but I would like to leave now. Please consider my request," Shweta replied.
"Mrs. Gupta... I would have definitely considered it, but the elections are not far now. Please continue until then. There are many issues I need to handle at the moment. We can revisit this if I’m re-elected," Shaurya said, dismissing the request—though this time, he noticed something he hadn’t before: her discomfort.