Chapter 23 #3
"It’s been more than ten minutes. I’m still sitting here—perfectly fine," he said. "You know my body reacts faster than most if something is wrong. I’m fine, which means the food is safe. Now eat."
"You didn’t have to do that…" Akansha said quietly.
She didn’t like that he had eaten just to prove a point. Even though he hadn’t cooked it himself, it still felt like she had insulted him.
"It’s fine," he replied. "I don’t want you to feel afraid while eating something as basic as food. Now eat."
She nodded slowly.
Akansha picked up her plate and began eating, while Shaurya occasionally glanced at her, pretending to scroll through his phone.
After dinner, they sat down to discuss the arrangements—how and when he would meet Siya, the frequency of their meetings, and the precautions they would need to take to ensure no one suspected the truth before they were ready to reveal it.
They reached an agreement on everything—except the frequency.
Shaurya wanted to meet his daughter once every week.
Akansha insisted on once every two weeks.
"That’s too long, Akansha… please try to understand," Shaurya said, his voice laced with restraint.
"I am letting you meet her—be grateful for that, Shaurya. Trust me, I didn’t want to, but I had to. Don’t push me further than you already have," she replied.
He held her gaze, the coldness in her eyes cutting deeper than her words.
Will things ever get better between us?
He tried to reason with her, to negotiate—but her words came at him like blades. Sharp. Precise. Relentless.
At one point, the ache became too much to bear.
So he stopped. And nodded.
He knew he was at fault—but that didn’t make her words hurt any less. Sometimes, the pain she inflicted felt unbearable.
"Let’s finalize the protocol for your visits with Siya every two weeks," Shaurya said.
Akansha looked at him, surprised.
He agreed… just like that?
She had expected resistance. More arguments. A fight.
He read the question in her eyes.
"I don’t want to trouble you more than I already am," he said simply.
Then he pressed the intercom.
"Suraj… who’s on night duty today?"
Suraj listed the names.
Shaurya selected a few he trusted without question and instructed Suraj to assign only them for the night shift.
The arrangements were made immediately.
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An hour later, Shaurya had gathered his trusted men in his study.
He briefed them about Akansha and Siya’s visits—every alternate Sunday—and the strict measures required to keep their presence confidential.
Once everything was discussed, he called Akansha in.
"This is Suraj, the Chief Security Officer… This is Akansha… my wi—"
He stopped.
Akansha’s sharp glare silenced him mid-sentence.
Suraj stood there, momentarily stunned.
One look.
That was all it took.
Their powerful, unshakable Chief Minister—stopped by a single look.
That silent exchange said everything.
Only a wife could hold that kind of power over a man like Shaurya.
"Hi, Suraj… Akansha Dixit," she said, extending her hand to ease the tension.
But Shaurya’s gaze darkened at the surname.
Suraj quickly shook her hand and introduced the others and they moved on to the discussion.
Once it ended, she left for the room to check on Siya.
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"Suraj, ensure their privacy at all costs whenever they come here," Shaurya instructed, his tone firm. "Take extra precautions. It’s election season—my opponents won’t hesitate to stoop low. I don’t want any trouble reaching Akansha or my daughter."
This was the first time he openly referred to Siya as his daughter.
"Congratulations, sir. Your daughter is truly adorable," Suraj said with a smile.
A quiet pride lit up Shaurya’s face.
For the first time, someone had acknowledged Siya as his.
And it felt like the greatest recognition he had ever received.
In a way, it was.
Siya was his greatest blessing.
And if he could bring happiness to her—and to her mother—that would be his greatest achievement.
The others followed, offering their congratulations.
No one questioned him.
Not about how he didn’t know.
Not about the storm this truth could create.
They all had questions—but they kept them to themselves.
That was something Shaurya valued.
Professionalism.
They knew where to draw the line.
They did their duty—nothing more, nothing less.
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After wrapping up the rest of his work discussions, Shaurya dismissed them.
He walked back to his room.
Akansha was sitting on his bed, gently caressing Siya’s hair.
His daughter.
The thought alone filled him with a strange, overwhelming sense of belonging.
A slow grin spread across his face.
Akansha looked up—and frowned.
"What’s wrong with you? Why are you grinning like an idiot standing at the door?" she asked.
He rolled his eyes at her words.
It had been five years since someone spoke to him like that.
Since becoming Chief Minister, everyone had started choosing their words carefully. Even Mrs. Sudha had softened her tone over time.
Only his best friend had remained unchanged.
And now…
Akansha had joined that very short list.
"I liked seeing you and our daughter in my room… on my bed," Shaurya said as he walked in, his voice softer than before. "I’ve imagined this a million times. Never thought I’d actually see it happen."
"This isn’t your reality," Akansha replied immediately, her words cutting through his moment. "This is a one-day arrangement. It won’t happen again."
The smile faded from his face.
The memory of handing her those divorce papers—and the way she had signed them without hesitation—flashed through his mind, stealing what little peace he had managed to gather.
"Sometimes, the memory of a single day is enough to keep you going for years," Shaurya said quietly.
He was thinking of the day he had proposed to her—the one memory that had carried him through everything.
Akansha knew exactly which day he meant.
The same day she had claimed to regret, her heart whispered.
'Which he deserved' Her mind countered.
"I’m comfortable here. You can go to the other room," she said, waiting for him to leave.
"Oh no… I’m not going anywhere," Shaurya replied, settling on the other side of the bed. "I’ll sleep here."
Akansha immediately got up.
"Shaurya, leave—or I will," she said, glaring at him.
He saw it clearly—just the thought of sharing a bed with him unsettled her.
"Relax… I’ll take the couch," he said quickly, getting up and walking toward her side.
She stepped aside, knowing exactly what he was going to do.
Shaurya leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss on his daughter’s forehead—his nightly habit.
He had always thought she didn’t notice.
But she did. His eyes filled as he lingered there for a moment. He still couldn’t believe it. He had a daughter. His heart carried layers of pain, betrayal, and regret—but beneath all of it, there was something else now.
A quiet, overwhelming happiness. And for that… he silently thanked her.
He picked up a duvet from the bed and walked over to the couch.
"Where is my blanket?" Akansha asked.
"I told you where they’re kept. Go and take one," Shaurya replied, settling comfortably on the couch and covering himself.
"Are you serious, Shaurya? I’m your guest," Akansha whisper-yelled, walking toward him in irritation.
"I already told you—no one is a guest in their own house," he said casually.
"Shut up. Stop talking nonsense," she snapped.
He rolled his eyes and turned away, ignoring her.
Akansha muttered under her breath before walking into his closet.
She picked up three blankets.
Let’s see how long you last, she thought.
She lay down beside her daughter, covering both of them generously before turning the AC to the lowest temperature.
Then she slipped the remote under her pillow.
Within five minutes, she heard exactly what she had been waiting for.
"Akansha… Siya might feel cold. Increase the temperature," Shaurya called out.
She shut her eyes, ignoring him.
"Akansha…" he tried again.
No response.
He got up, only to find both mother and daughter wrapped tightly in thick blankets—while he stood there, shivering.
He searched for the AC remote.
Nothing.
He cursed under his breath.
He should have just given her the blanket earlier.
Now he was paying for it.
He walked to his closet and grabbed another blanket for himself.
For a moment, he stood there—watching them.
His wife.
His daughter.
Asleep.
Peaceful.
He tried to imprint the sight into his memory. Because he knew… Moments like this wouldn’t come easily again.
He lay back down on the couch, but sleep stayed far away. The discomfort of the couch—and the biting cold—only made it worse.
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By morning, his mood had turned sharp.
The conversation from the previous night lingered.
The thought of seeing his daughter only once every two weeks…
It didn’t sit well with him.
He hated himself for agreeing.
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Akansha woke up slowly, still heavy with sleep.
As her eyes adjusted, she took in the state of the room.
A mess.
She frowned.
He hasn’t changed at all.
Whenever he was angry, upset, or sleep-deprived—this is what happened.
Everything around him suffered.
What she didn’t know was that this was the first time in years he had let himself lose control like this.
After she left, he had changed.
Disciplined. Composed. But her presence… It brought back everything.
The old habits. The old chaos.
Looking at the room, irritation flared within her.
She waited for a while, expecting someone to come in and clean it.
No one did.
Her patience snapped.
With a quiet sigh, she started cleaning it herself before heading to freshen up.
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Shaurya’s shirt had torn earlier when it got caught on a nail in his study. A small cut marked his forearm.
He returned to the room to change.
The moment he stepped in, his eyes fell on the now spotless space.