Chapter 24 #2
Shaurya considered refusing, but he knew organizing the raw data alone would consume too much time—time he couldn’t afford to waste.
"Yes. Let them clean the data. The rest, I’ll handle. Inform them accordingly," he said.
Shweta nodded and left. Soon, the data was brought in.
Once the preliminary work was done, Shaurya dismissed the team. They offered to stay and assist with the analysis—but he declined. They exchanged concerned glances as they left.
They knew Shaurya was sharp—exceptional with numbers. His ability to catch even the smallest discrepancies, to question details others overlooked, had always set him apart.
But this?
This was too much—even for experts.
What they didn’t know was that before politics, Shaurya had been the Chief Financial Officer of a multinational firm in London.
Numbers had always been his strength.
His refuge.
His escape.
And right now, when his mind was in chaos…
He turned to them again. Not just to work—But to survive the storm inside him.
Shaurya managed to finish his work just ten minutes before the scheduled cabinet meeting.
He had skipped lunch, asked Shweta to cancel all his meetings for the day, and blocked any interruptions.
He needed that isolation—to come to terms with everything that had unfolded in his life over the past few days.
The meeting, however, was far from smooth.
Several ministers opposed Shaurya’s proposal to allocate the remaining budget toward public welfare. Instead, they pushed to divert treasury funds into their election campaign—an illegal move Shaurya outright rejected.
Their greed only worsened his already fragile mood.
For the first time, he snapped.
His sharp outburst stunned everyone present. They had always known him as calm, composed, and in complete control. Though they remained displeased with his refusal, Shaurya’s authority left them with little choice but to eventually yield.
-----------
It was well past midnight when he finally returned home—reluctantly.
He had buried himself in work all day, trying to escape thoughts of his wife and daughter. He didn’t want to bother Akansha with constant messages.
A bitter smile tugged at his lips.
There was a time when a single message from him could brighten her entire day.
Now… That same message could ruin it.
The familiar ache settled deep within him.
He freshened up and dropped onto the bed, knowing sleep wouldn’t come easily. Just then, a soft knock made him sit up.
Mrs. Sudha entered with his dinner.
He appreciated her concern, but gently reprimanded her for staying up so late.
"Relax, Shaurya. I wasn’t waiting for you," she said with a soft smile. "I asked Suraj to wake me when you got home so I could make sure you ate something. I heard you haven’t eaten anything since breakfast with Akansha."
"I’m not hungry, Mrs. Sudha…" he replied honestly.
"I know," she said calmly. "But you still need to eat a little. You can’t afford to fall sick—not now. There’s too much at stake in both your professional and personal life. One wrong step, and you could lose everything."
Her words were firm, yet filled with care.
"I understand why you don’t feel like eating," she continued gently, "but skipping meals won’t fix anything. It will only make things worse."
Shaurya knew she was right.
Not that he needed to be told—but sometimes, he needed to hear it from someone who cared.
Something he had never received from his own parents.
They reached out only when they needed something.
It had always been that way. They may have loved him—but they had never cared for him.
He had always been the one giving—whether it was to his parents, his sister, or his friends. His compassionate nature had become his weakness. People only expected more from him.
Except Dev, he was different.
They would die for each other without hesitation, yet even in that deep bond, expressions of care were rare. They didn’t know how to show it. Their lives were consumed by ambition and responsibilities, leaving little room for softer emotions.
It was only after Akansha entered his life that he truly understood what it meant to be loved.
She had loved him completely, cared for him in ways no one ever had.
Those days had been the best of his life.
So many times, he had wanted to abandon his foolish retribution. To come clean. To beg for her forgiveness.
But every time, the same force that had driven him into that path held him back.
And yet, with every passing day, witnessing her love only deepened his own feelings for her.
Still… He had chosen his revenge over everything.
Though that path had not been entirely his choice—it had been forced upon him—he still had the option to handle it differently.
He hadn’t. There were many reasons behind his actions.
One of them was his love for Akansha, his desperate need to keep her safe, but none of it justified what he had done.
Because it had all begun with deception.
With wrong intentions.
"Shaurya… are you listening to me?"
Mrs. Sudha’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts.
He nodded slightly and took the plate from her, serving himself some food.
"You’ve eaten?" he asked softly.
She smiled and nodded.
Mrs. Sudha had been part of his life since he was a toddler. She had been barely a teenager when she joined the household. With her parents gone and no relatives willing to take her in, she had started working at a young age to survive.
Taking care of little Shaurya had, in many ways, given her purpose—something stable to hold on to.
Despite the deep bond they shared, Shaurya had never truly opened up to her. Not about his loneliness, not about his pain.
To the world, he appeared outgoing, compassionate—someone who connected easily.
But when it came to his own emotions… He remained closed.
Even with Dev, it had taken years before he shared anything real. But with Akansha… Everything had changed.
With her, his emotions had never needed effort—they simply flowed. He had loved her deeply. Completely.
And even now, he carried the weight of his failure.
His one mistake had taken away four years of his daughter’s life—years she had lived without a father.
Siya.
Just the thought of her tightened his chest.
A strange mix of pain… And overwhelming, aching joy.
"I’m done," Shaurya said after forcing down a few morsels.
"I won’t force you to eat more today," Mrs. Sudha replied, watching him closely, reading the storm he was trying to suppress. "Don’t overthink, Shaurya. It won’t just steal your peace—it will take away your chance to correct your mistakes. Let time do its part. You just do what you must."
Her words were simple, but they carried weight.
Seeing him like this hurt her. He was the most compassionate man she had ever known—and yet, fate had denied him that very strength when it mattered the most… with the woman he loved more than anything.
After wishing him good night, she left with the dishes.
Shaurya leaned back on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. Every corner of the room reflected Akansha’s taste—not just the bedroom, but the entire house was a blend of her choices and his.
When he had bought this place, he had foolishly held on to a hope—that one day, she would live here with him.
Even when that hope had seemed distant, almost impossible, he had still spent hours—despite his schedule—designing everything with her in mind.
So that if she ever returned… She would feel at home. Back then, even he had thought his actions were absurd.
And now… She had returned.
But not the way he had imagined. Her presence didn’t bring his dream to life—it shattered it.
He knew it was his fault. But he refused to let his past destroy her future… or his daughter’s.
Restless, he picked up his phone.
WhatsApp. And then he froze.
Akansha had changed her display picture.
Earlier, it had been a picture of her with Siya.
Now… It was just Siya. His daughter.
But what caught his breath wasn’t the picture. It was the shawl wrapped around her.
His shawl.
The one he had given her that night—the night everything between them had changed.
The night they had silently promised never to regret what they had become to each other.
After their blissful moment of becoming each other’s, Shaurya gently wrapped her in his shawl before pulling her closer into his arms.
"This is yours now," he had said.
She had looked at him in surprise.
"But this is your favorite shawl, Shaurya. You said it has been with you since childhood… that it’s your comfort in every pain. What will you do without it?"
"Now you are my comfort," he had replied, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.
"But I can’t be with you all the time… at least not now," she murmured, absentmindedly brushing her fingers against his stubble, making him inhale sharply.
Even her smallest touch had the power to undo him.
"Just like I can’t be with you all the time," he said softly. "So keep this with you. Whenever I’m not there… feel my warmth in it."
"But I can’t keep this knowing how much it means to you," she whispered, running her fingers over the soft Kashmiri fabric, overwhelmed by what he was giving her.
"Relax, I’m not asking you to keep it forever," he said, a playful glint in his eyes. "You’ll have it only until its rightful owner arrives."
"Rightful owner?" she scoffed. "Really?"
She knew his teasing nature—but this time, there was something serious in his eyes.
"Yes," he said. "My long-term plan is to pass this on to my daughter. After me, it belongs to her. You’re just borrowing it till she comes."
She glared at him.
"And what if we have a son?"
"Then we’ll try again for a daughter," he replied without hesitation, pulling her closer and making her blush.
"And what if we keep having sons?" she challenged, a smirk playing on her lips. "What if there’s no daughter? Will you let me keep it permanently then?"
For the first time, he went quiet.