chapter 62 - The war within
Ira sat alone in her room, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her own words echoed in her mind, stabbing at her heart.
She had lashed out at him, thrown his actions back in his face, hurt him the way he had hurt her. It should have felt satisfying. It should have brought her the peace she was desperately searching for.
But it didn’t.
Instead, all she felt was a deep, gnawing pain in her chest.
She clutched her dupatta tightly, as if trying to hold herself together. But nothing could stop the guilt that weighed on her heart.
She thought about the look in Aarav’s eyes—the way his face had darkened, not with anger, but with something else. Something raw.
And now, that same expression haunted her.
Tears threatened to spill down her cheeks, but she wiped them away quickly. No. She wouldn’t cry for him. He deserved this.
That’s what she told herself.
But then why did it feel like she was the one breaking?
Aarav sat in his room, his fingers running through his hair, his chest tight with emotions he never thought he’d experience.
He had never let anyone see this side of him. Never let anyone close enough to break him.
But Ira had.
And now, for the first time in his life, he felt utterly lost.
He had messed up. He knew that. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut.
But what now?
How did he fix something when he wasn’t even sure where to begin?
His hands clenched into fists.
No. He wasn’t someone who gave up. He wasn’t someone who walked away from what he wanted.
And he wanted Ira.
Not as a temporary wife. Not as part of a contract.
He wanted her. Her laughter, her anger, her stubbornness—everything.
A slow smirk played on his lips.
She thought she could push him away?
Game on, Mrs. Malhotra.
That night, Ira lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling, her thoughts refusing to let her rest.
Her mind replayed every moment—every touch, every glance, every whispered word.
And then, the pain in his eyes.
She turned onto her side, pressing a hand to her heart. Why does it hurt so much?
She told herself she wouldn’t let him break her again. That she wouldn’t fall for his tricks, his charm, his words.
But as a lone tear escaped and rolled down her cheek, she knew the truth.
Her heart was already betraying her.
The next morning, Aarav woke up with a new determination burning in his chest.
He wasn’t going to let her shut him out. He wasn’t going to let her pretend she didn’t care.
She wanted space? Fine. He would give her that.
But he would make her see that he wasn’t going anywhere.
Smirking to himself, he rolled his shoulders back, ready for battle.
This wasn’t over.
Not even close.
Aarav wasn’t a man who believed in grand gestures or romantic words. He was a man of action. And if action was what it took to make Ira see that he wasn’t giving up, then so be it.
The first step? Reminding her that she was his wife—whether she wanted to accept it or not.
So, when Ira walked into the dining hall the next morning, the first thing she saw was Aarav, sitting in his usual chair, sipping his coffee as if nothing had changed.
But something had changed.
His eyes.
They weren’t cold, distant, or indifferent. No, they were locked onto her with a quiet intensity that sent shivers down her spine.
She ignored him and took a seat at the farthest end of the table. If he thought she would fall for whatever game he was playing, he was wrong.
He smirked. Oh, Mrs. Malhotra, you have no idea what you’ve started.
As she reached for the teapot, he stood up, walked over, and took it from her hands, pouring the tea himself.
She froze. Her fingers twitched to snatch it back, but his closeness was distracting—too distracting.
She swallowed. “I can do it myself.”
He leaned in, his voice low. “I know. But I’m your husband. It’s my job to take care of you.”
Her breath hitched.
Everyone at the table had gone silent, watching the scene unfold.
Ira clenched her jaw, snatching the cup and standing up. “I don’t need you to take care of me, Mr. Malhotra.”
And with that, she stormed out.
Aarav smirked, watching her leave.
Beta you have to do a lot to make her forgive you his dad said.
I'm ready to do anything to get her back papa, I can't..... I can't breathe without her papa
Step one—get her to react.
Now, onto step two.
Aarav made sure she couldn’t ignore him.
Everywhere she went, he was there.
When she went to the kitchen to get water, she found him already standing there, casually leaning against the counter.
When she went to the living room to read, he sat across from her, flipping through a newspaper as if he had nowhere else to be.
When she stepped outside for fresh air, he was already there, arms crossed, watching her with that unreadable expression.
No words. No explanations. Just his constant presence.
It was infuriating.
“Are you following me?” she finally snapped after two days of this.
He smirked. “No. I just happen to be where you are.”
She glared. “That’s called stalking.”
He leaned in slightly. “That’s called being a husband.”
Her breath caught. She turned away before he could see how much his presence affected her.
She wouldn’t let him win.
Late at night, Ira was in the her room near book shilf trying to lose herself in a book. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t focus.
Because she knew he was standing at the door, watching her.
“Ira.” His voice was softer this time.
She didn’t look up. “Go away, Aarav.”
Silence.
Then, a quiet sigh.
“I know I hurt you,” he said, stepping inside. “And I know an apology won’t change that.”
Her fingers curled around the book.
“But that doesn’t mean I’ll stop trying to make things right.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. Don’t believe him. Don’t fall for this.
He walked closer. “Tell me what to do, Ira. Tell me how to fix this.”
She slammed the book shut, finally looking up at him. Her eyes were filled with unshed tears. “You can’t, Aarav. Some things can’t be fixed.”
His jaw clenched. “I refuse to accept that.”
She exhaled sharply, standing up. “Then that’s your problem, not mine.”
And before he could say another word, she walked past him, leaving him alone in the dimly lit of her room.
Aarav sat in his room, thinking.
She wasn’t going to make this easy for him.
And honestly?
He didn’t expect anything less.
But if she thought she could push him away forever, she was mistaken.
Because he was Aarav Malhotra.
And when he wanted something, he got it.
Even if it meant breaking every wall she had built around her heart.
Game on, Mrs. Malhotra.