Chapter 41 #4
"Tell them about the farmhouse birthday visit." Shaurya instantly understood why.
Richa must've learned fragments of the truth the previous night. Knowing Dev, he must have already threatened and but she might not expose their friendship directly, but she was capable of dropping subtle hints when it suited her.
And one such weapon she still had was the set of pictures from the day Shaurya had visited Dev's farmhouse for Rachna's birthday.
If he revealed this openly himself, she would lose the chance to weaponize it later.
"In fact," Shaurya continued casually, "I've even visited Dev ji's farmhouse before for his wife's birthday. We spent time discussing social issues, governance, and even bonded over shared interests like cricket."
The crowd reacted with loud surprise.
"So no," he concluded firmly, "I do not believe Mr. Bisht would ever do something like this."
After several more rounds of questions, the press meet finally ended. Most personal questions regarding Akansha and Siya were skillfully dodged.
By the time Shaurya returned home, exhaustion crashed over him completely. He dropped onto the couch, closing his eyes briefly. There was relief in finally acknowledging his wife and daughter before the world. But there was pain too.
Because beneath all the polished statements and carefully crafted narratives... there were lies. It wasn't a mutual decision. Akansha had left because he broke her beyond repair. She suffered because of him.
Not once.
Many times.
And now he had stood before cameras and reshaped her pain into something noble and tragic instead of ugly and cruel. For the first time since the press conference ended, disgust rose inside him.
If speaking those lies hurt him this much... how much pain must Akansha be feeling while listening to them?
Without thinking further, he called her. She picked up immediately. Almost as if she had been expecting it.
"Shaurya," she spoke before he could say anything, "this wasn't just your story. It was our decision together."
Her calm voice eased something inside him instantly.
"We didn't do this for your career," she continued. "We did it for Siya. And honestly? I would've hated it if you had confessed the actual truth there. I don't want strangers knowing what my married life looked like. I don't want sympathy from anyone."
He shut his eyes silently.
"So stop overthinking and wasting your energy feeling guilty," she scolded softly. "Instead, focus on the Father's Day event."
A smile finally appeared on his face.
"What about it?" he asked quietly.
"You have to coordinate your outfit with your daughter's."
Shaurya blinked.
"What?"
"Color coordination," she explained casually. "Didn't you read the event invitation?"
"I never received one," he admitted softly, suddenly reminded that his name still wasn't officially registered as Siya's father in the school records.
"Oh..." Akansha paused. "Sorry. I assumed Dev might've forwarded it to you. Fine, I'll send it now. Once I finalize Siya's dress, I'll let you know the color. You need to wear the same shade of Red."
Shaurya almost looked personally betrayed.
"Akansha... Red? You know I don't wear red," he complained immediately.
For some reason, Shaurya had always disliked the color. Years ago, when Akansha gifted him a red shirt without knowing that, he wore it only for an hour before changing. Even she had eventually asked him to remove it after noticing how uncomfortable he looked.
"I can't help it, Shaurya," Akansha replied, trying hard not to laugh. "You're going to be introduced as Siya's father for the first time. It won't look nice if you don't follow the dress code."
"I would've worn it for her if it was just for a few minutes," he defended himself.
"But this function is going to last the whole day.
God knows what activities they've planned there.
You know how conscious I get while wearing red.
.. I don't like how it looks on me. I haven't worn bright colors, let alone red, ever since I took office. "
Akansha burst out laughing hearing his genuine distress.
"Akansha..." Shaurya sighed dramatically in relief. "So you were teasing me all this while?"
But his relief disappeared almost instantly.
"No, I wasn't," she corrected calmly. "The theme actually is red. You can check the invite yourself. I was laughing because of your whining, Shaurya."
Then her tone turned teasing again.
"And your daughter is not as understanding as me. I accepted your hatred for red and let it go, but Siya definitely won't sit quietly if you embarrass her by refusing to wear the theme color."
Shaurya stared at his phone in disbelief.
"Embarrass?" he repeated dramatically. "I will embarrass my daughter?"
Then he immediately countered,
"And what was that about you being understanding? Fine, you didn't force me... but I did wear red for you. For one full hour. I changed only because you asked me to."
"Obviously I asked you to change," Akansha shot back instantly. "What else was I supposed to do? Even I started hating the color after looking at your face. Karela jaise muh banaye baithe the (You were sitting there making a face like a bitter gourd)."
Shaurya grinned hearing her taunts.
She rarely spoke about their past anymore... and almost never about the lighter moments. Hearing her casually bring up one of those memories made something warm settle inside him.
For him, this alone felt like one of the happiest days he'd had in the last five years.
"Okay, fine. My mistake. Sorry," he surrendered. "Now please help me with a solution. As far as I can tell, your school has planned an entire sports festival in the name of Father's Day. If I spend the whole day worrying about my shirt color, my Siya will lose every competition."
Akansha sighed like a tired mother handling two children instead of one.
"Okay... I'll get Siya an off-white frock with red floral prints or minimal red designs. Or maybe she already has something similar. You can wear a white shirt with subtle red stripes or a light pattern. Happy?"
"That actually sounds reasonable," he admitted quickly. Then, after a pause, he added carefully, "Can you shop for my shirt too?"
Akansha instantly narrowed her eyes despite him not being physically present.
"My schedule is packed for the next few days," he continued innocently. "And I can't exactly explain to my staff what kind of red I can mentally tolerate. Especially after avoiding bright colors for years."
The truth was, he could ask someone else.
Shweta, Mr. Sharma, even a designer friend.
But he didn't want that.
This was the first event where the world would indirectly acknowledge Akansha as his wife and Siya as his daughter. Even if their names and faces remained hidden, people would finally know they existed.
And selfishly... he wanted to wear something chosen by her.
Shaurya never liked designer politics anyway. Most politicians had stylists who crafted fixed public images for them through clothing. Even Dev followed that system to some extent.
Shaurya hated it.
He preferred crisp formal shirts, simple trousers, pure cotton fabrics, minimal patterns, mostly Indian brands. He wore kurtas during festivals or cultural events, but otherwise he dressed in the simplest way possible.
Opposition leaders had mocked him for it for years, calling him "angrez" and accusing him of dressing unlike the common people of the state.
But Shaurya never cared. For him, identity came through work and ideology, not clothing.
And ironically, his refusal to change eventually worked in his favor politically too. His PR team used his consistent preference for Indian manufacturers and local textiles as proof that he genuinely supported regional industries rather than merely speaking about them.
"I can't do that, Shaurya," Akansha refused firmly. "Ask your designer or your staff to get it."
"Akansha... please," he tried again.
"Or," she interrupted, "wear your plain white shirt and add a red brooch or cufflinks."
"I don't own anything red."
She closed her eyes in exhaustion.
"You are genuinely impossible," she muttered. "Now I have to shop for your daughter's accessories and yours. Wonderful."
Then her tone sharpened.
"And listen carefully, Shaurya, I'll buy whatever I like. If you throw tantrums or make comments after seeing it, I swear I'll kill you myself."
"I throw tantrums?" he defended himself weakly.
She immediately shot back,
"Who was crying five minutes ago over wearing red?"
"That was different..."
"Shut up and go back to work," she snapped before hanging up on him.
Shaurya stared at the disconnected call... smiling like an idiot.
For the first time in years, they had spoken without hatred standing between every sentence. Things were nowhere close to normal. But somewhere... somehow... this felt like the beginning of something.
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It was Father's Day and Shaurya wore the white shirt with the subtle red patterns his wife had picked for him. Thanks to the rehearsals Akansha had forced him through a few days ago along with Siya, he was at least able to tolerate the color without looking visibly uncomfortable.
They had also discussed how they would handle the introduction. Both of them preferred a subtle approach, without unnecessary drama or attention, and had carefully prepared their four-year-old for the big day as well.
Meanwhile, Shaurya had received an intelligence report strongly advising that it was no longer safe for Akansha and Siya to continue living like ordinary residents in society. After discussing it with Akansha, she reluctantly agreed to shift temporarily to Shaurya's place.