Chapter 25
KAVYA
“What was that?” Saurav demanded the moment the door clicked shut behind us. His breath was ragged, his jaw clamped tight, and his eyes burned with a cold fury. “Are you having an affair with Abhiraj Sisodiya?”
“No!” I snapped back. “We’re just friends.”
“Friends?” Saurav let out a mocking, jagged laugh. “You’re ‘friends’ with a man who tried to force himself on you at that party?”
“No, he didn't…I mean, he didn't mean it like that,” I stammered, shrinking under his piercing gaze. “I just … I took it the wrong way.”
“What the hell is this?” he roared, the volume making me flinch. I stepped back, my heart hammering against my ribs. “Do you think I’m a fool, Kavya? Are you trying to make a fool out of me?”
“No,” I whispered, swallowing hard as I backed away. “You don’t have to be jealous of him.”
He lunged forward, closing the gap between us in a single stride.
He caught my arm in a rough grip, staring down at me.
“I’m not jealous. I’m worried about my family’s reputation.
What if the media caught the two of you hugging like lost lovers in the middle of the night?
Think of the money they’d make off those headlines. ”
“I wasn’t doing anything wrong. Abhiraj has been nothing but kind to me.”
“Ask yourself why,” he hissed through clenched teeth, his face inches from mine.
“Ask yourself why he’s always hovering around the moment I’m gone.
It’s because he wants to get into your pants, Kavya.
And once he gets what he wants, he’ll toss you aside like a used tissue.
I’m not jealous…I’m just protecting my name. ”
“Let me go. You’re hurting me,” I said sharply.
Saurav released me abruptly. I rubbed my arm, staring at the red fingerprints blooming on my skin.
He watched me, silently and stony-faced.
Tears pricked my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.
What a beautiful way to celebrate our first anniversary, I thought bitterly. A night I would never forget.
A soft knock at the door broke the silence between us. I quickly wiped my eyes, took a shaky breath, and forced a smile before opening it.
Uncle Dhruv stood there, his expression professional and composed. “Is Saurav-sir here?” he asked politely. I nodded and stepped aside so that he could see my angry husband. “Sir, the backyard is ready as you requested. The cake will be here shortly.”
“Shut up and leave!” Saurav cut him off, disappearing into the bathroom and slamming the door.
I looked at Dhruv, confused. “What did you set up in the backyard?”
Dhruv glanced nervously toward the bathroom. “Saurav-sir called me this morning. He said he was coming home and asked me to set up a table for a family dinner. Because of the anniversary.”
“Is that why you couldn't drive us this evening?” I asked.
He nodded. “I had to prepare. But it looks like the plans were for nothing. He doesn't seem to be in a good mood.”
I looked at the closed bathroom door, my heart aching. He had remembered. He had traveled all this way just to celebrate with us.
“Nothing is going to be for nothing,” I said firmly. “We’ll be down in a few minutes.”
Dhruv beamed. “That’s wonderful news! I’ll go check on the cake.”
I stepped out of the room and headed for the backyard. The hallway felt miles long, each step heavier than the last. When I finally stepped outside, I froze.
The setup was breathtaking. I couldn't understand how a man who supposedly hated me had ordered all of this.
Lavender drapes, which was my favorite color, swayed in the night breeze.
Fairy lights glowed like tiny stars, bathing the patio in a golden warmth.
At the center sat a small round table set for three, adorned with fresh lavender.
How does he even know what I like? We had hardly spent a day together.
The plates were filled with my favorite dishes. The scent of lavender mingled with the savory aroma of the food. And there, in the center, was a butterscotch cake which I liked the most.
“He remembered… ” I whispered as guilt settled in my stomach like lead.
He hadn’t wished me a happy anniversary, but then again, had I tried to wish him? He hadn’t called in months, but had I reached out? He had given up, but I realized now that I had given up too.
He had traveled all the way from Kerala in uniform just to be here.
And I had greeted him with a fight. Saurav Chauhan was becoming a mystery I couldn't solve. He claimed to care only for his reputation, yet he married me to save mine. He hated me for the situation with Abhiraj, yet he’d fought the man for touching me.
He was a man of contradictions, and for the first time, I wondered which version of him was real.
I pulled out a chair, my fingers brushing the tablecloth as if the soft fabric could steady my racing heart. I stared at the elegant setting, trying to calm the storm Saurav had stirred inside me.
“It’s his fault too,” I muttered to the empty air, desperate to defend myself. “He’s an asshole. He didn’t have to act like that.” But my own argument sounded hollow. It was hard to stay angry while surrounded by the effort he’d clearly put into this. At least he had tried.
With trembling hands, I poured a glass of water and forced myself to take a sip.
I put some fries on my plate, attempting to eat even though my stomach was in knots.
Sometimes, pretending everything was fine felt better than facing the truth.
I looked at the empty chair across from me, then up at our bedroom window, sensing him watching me from the shadows.
The night stretched on. Crickets chirped a lonely melody for my anniversary, and the stars seemed to mock me, they were part of a vast constellation, while I sat here alone. Only the moon offered comfort, a reminder that you could still shine even with borrowed light.
I checked the time and exhaled. “Of course,” I whispered to the vacant seat. “Why would he come?”
I was about to leave when the crunch of dried leaves stopped me.
My eyes snapped toward the sound, and my hand froze mid-air.
Saurav stepped into the golden glow of the fairy lights.
His hair was damp from a shower, and though he was dressed simply, he looked striking enough to make my heart betray me.
I hated it. I hated how easily he gave me butterflies.
He reached the table and sat across from me without a word. A heavy silence followed; we had fought so bitterly that neither of us knew how to find the path back to a normal conversation. I glanced at him once, then quickly looked down, pretending to be fascinated by my plate.
Saurav leaned back, his gaze drifting to the stars. His expression was a closed book. Minutes passed, and the small table between us felt like a vast canyon.
Then, unexpectedly, he reached across the table. I flinched as his fingers closed around mine. I tried to pull back, but his grip was gentle and careful this time. His thumb hovered over the faint red marks on my wrist. His own fingerprints.
His jaw tightened, and for a second, his composure cracked. “I…” He paused, his voice low and gravelly as he steadied himself. “I’m sorry.” He sighed heavily, as if those words weighed a thousand pounds. “I shouldn’t have grabbed you like that. It was wrong.”
The silence that followed wasn't suffocating anymore.
“You’ve done it before,” I whispered.
“I know.”
He finally met my eyes. “I was angry,” he admitted. “But that doesn’t justify it.”
“I’m not having an affair with Abhiraj,” I said. I didn't know why I was bringing him up again, but I needed my husband to know the truth. “Trust me.”
He exhaled but didn’t let go of my hand. “It’s not just about trust, Kavya. It’s about fear.”
“Fear?”
“My family’s name. The media. Scandals. And… men like him.”
“Abhiraj isn’t…”
“I don’t like the way he looks at you,” he interrupted. His voice was calm, but I could see the heat behind his eyes. “Maybe I’m wrong about him, maybe I’m not. But I don’t trust his intentions. Have you forgotten what he did at that party?”
“We’ve already talked about this,” I said, pulling my hand away. But as I saw that unfamiliar flicker of emotion in his eyes, I softened. “I… I might have been wrong about him, too.”
His shoulders finally relaxed.
I looked around at the beautiful setup, then back at him. “You did all this?”
He looked away, looking almost awkward. “Not me. Dhruv did it.”
“But you asked him to?”
He nodded without looking at me. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”
Something twisted painfully in my chest. “It’s beautiful,” I said softly. “I mean it.”
He gave a small nod. “Happy anniversary, Kavya.”
“Happy anniversary,” I replied.
A faint, fragile smile passed between us. I picked up my fork, feeling a little more like myself. “Are you going to eat?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Is that an invitation?”
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t ruin the moment.”
A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he finally picked up his cutlery.
For a while, the tension that usually suffocated us began to thin, replaced by a conversation that felt almost normal.
He spoke about his duty in the Air Force, his voice dropping into a low, rhythmic hum as he described the adrenaline of the cockpit and the grueling discipline of his drills.
I found myself watching his hands as he moved his fork, wondering how those same fingers that could handle a fighter jet could also be so gentle when they touched my wrist.
In return, I told him about the chaos at his father’s office, the endless meetings, the demanding clients, and the pressure of keeping a business empire running while he was away.
He listened more than he spoke, his dark eyes fixed on me in a way that made my pulse skip.
Then he mentioned Spain, describing the upcoming international military exercises with a sense of duty that both impressed and intimidated me.
For a few moments, it wasn't about the scandals or the family name; it was just two people sharing the details of their separate lives, trying to bridge the miles that always seemed to exist between us.
“So, are we cool?” I asked tentatively.
Saurav frowned in confusion before realising what I was talking about. “Not 'cool,' but we’ll work on the relationship,” Saurav said, studying me. “I want to make my father happy. I haven’t done much for him, so I figured keeping our marriage together would be a start.”
The bitterness returned. “So this whole display was just a show for your father?”
“It wasn't a 'show,' Kavya,” Saurav sighed. “I did it for you, too.”
“I think I’m tired,” I said, standing abruptly. I felt like a fool. I thought he’d done this for me, but he was just playing the part of the good son.
I went upstairs, changed out of my saree, and climbed into bed. A few minutes later, I heard him enter the room.
“Are you sleeping here?” I asked, turning to face him.
“Yes,” he said shortly, lying down beside me.
“I’ll go to the guest room then,” I said, starting to move, but he caught my hand firmly.
“Just stay right here.”
I lay back down, stiff and silent. A moment later, I felt his powerful arm wrap around my waist. He pulled me close until I felt his soft breath against my neck. Within minutes, he was fast asleep.
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