Chapter 9
IRA
I was surprised, not shocked, to learn that Aryan had been temporarily transferred to Barmer.
Even better, he had been granted family accommodation and had already moved into his quarters with his wife, Avni Rathore.
What fantastic news. I had just run away from two men, and now, by some twisted stroke of fate, they had come to settle in the same place I had been quietly trying to live in peace.
First Prashant, six months ago. Now Aryan.
To be honest, Aryan didn't deserve the cold shoulder I had given him all these months.
I hadn't even replied to his letter, just rejected it with brutal finality.
It wasn't his fault Avni had forced him into marriage.
And if I hadn't pushed him to drink that night, maybe he wouldn't have.
Maybe he wouldn't have been behind the wheel.
Maybe he wouldn't have run over the woman who was now his wife.
I didn't know the current state of Aryan and Avni's marriage, but I was going to find out.
I did feel a flicker of guilt for calling Avni a cripple, but I couldn't help it. I didn't like her. I would never like her. Aryan deserved better than that stubborn, sharp-tongued woman.
There was an officers' party that evening in the community hall, and Aryan and Avni were expected to attend.
I was still stuck on duty, sorting paperwork, but I planned to go later to speak to Aryan, to make sure he was okay, and that Avni wasn't torturing him with her usual drama.
If she tried anything, I swore I would rip the hair from her head.
"Lieutenant," he said, his deep voice slicing through the silence and making me jolt to my feet.
I raised an eyebrow, feigning indifference. "Captain."
Prashant stood at the doorway, arms crossed, his expression unreadable and cold, same as always.
He had hated me ever since I made that awful comment about his failed mission.
Truth was, he hadn't failed. He had won the war as every scar on his body testified to that.
I was just so angry that day. The words slipped out before I could stop them.
I hadn't meant to wound him, but I had. I had been hurting him since the day we met.
"You finished your work?" He asked as he stood tall in his perfectly pressed uniform, his jaw locked tight. His eyes were sharp and cool, unwavering.
I hated that nothing ever seemed to rattle him. What I hated even more was how he looked at me like I was a problem that needed solving. I had just been wallowing in my own thoughts, and now he had materialized, stone-faced and unreadable.
He could laugh, smile, and joke with every other woman in the barracks, but not with me. He had a problem with me. Then again I was the one who had created that problem.
"I need to pick up a classified file from Major Choudhary," he said briskly. "You're coming with me."
I blinked. "Me?" It had been months since we had even exchanged words, let alone worked together.
"Yes, you..."
"There are at least a dozen other officers available."
He didn't blink. "But I asked for you."
My heart paused.
Slowly, I set down my pen. "Is that an order, sir?"
His jaw twitched. "Would it make you move faster?"
I stood, adjusting the collar of my uniform as I stepped toward him. "No, Captain. But it would remind me why I can't stand working with you."
The corner of his mouth twitched, almost a smirk, but it was too bitter to be amused. "You think the feeling's not mutual?" he muttered as he turned and walked away.
I followed him, my boots echoing sharply against the hallway floor.
We didn't speak for the next two minutes. The silence stretched between us. Years of arguments, old wounds, and unsaid words clung to the air, simmering just beneath the surface.
"Remind me again," I finally said, my voice dry, "why do we hate each other?"
Prashant didn't look back. "Because even silence feels warmer than your company."
"No," I shot back, walking right behind him. "It's because you hate people who question your authority. And I don't bend."
We reached Major Choudhary's quarter. He paused at the door then glanced at me sideways.
"Then keep standing, Lieutenant," he said flatly. "Just make sure you don't fall when things get tough."
I met his gaze, unflinching. "I won't fall, Captain."
Without another word, he pushed the door open and walked in.
"I'll see you at the community hall," I added casually as I turned to go.
He paused, brow raised. "Why are you going to the community hall?"
"To meet Captain Aryan Rathore," I said with a wink.
His eyes narrowed for the briefest moment, but he said nothing and walked into the major's quarter. Luckily for me, the major's house was close to the community hall. I could take a walk.
The hall was awash in golden lights, filled with the scent of delicious food and too much expensive perfume. Couples mingled, children ran around shrieking with joy. I ignored the chaos, pushing through with purpose. I was looking for only one person.
And there he was.
Aryan stood beside Avni, his arm gently resting around her waist as he introduced her to a group of officers and their spouses. She looked stunning in her elegant saree and backless blouse. They looked perfect together.
I waited for envy to rise in me, but it didn't come. It never did, not even when Aryan was surrounded by other women. Maybe that was the real revelation here.
His eyes found mine across the room. He paused mid-sentence, muttered something to Avni, then walked toward me.
I offered him a polite smile as he approached.
"Good evening, sir," I saluted him. He was my senior captain now. Not my ex. Not even my friend.
"Good evening," he replied, his voice quiet.
We moved to a quieter corner of the hall for what I hoped would be a short conversation. I crossed my arms tightly, holding myself together. Aryan stood across from me, hands shoved in his trouser pockets, his expression unreadable.
I said first, "I can't believe you brought her here with you... to live with. For six whole months."
I let out a dry laugh, bitterness clinging to every syllable. The absurdity of it the way he stood there so calmly made it obvious. He had started to care about her. His little wife.
"Are you kidding me, Aryan? Don't tell me you're giving her hope and pretending you'll stay with her forever, like some perfect husband. Which you're not."
I stared at him, searching for a flicker of emotion. Something. But whatever I found was positive and warm.
His voice cut through my thoughts, low and steady. "I thought we were here to talk about something else. I don't want to talk about Avni, Ira. And I assume you don't either."
"No," I muttered. "I was just shocked to see you with her. I hope you'll break her heart, Aryan. Will you?" I held his gaze. "Is that the little revenge I can expect from you?"
He didn't flinch and didn't even blink.
"What break?" he said, his tone flat as stone. "We don't love each other. There's nothing to break. I'm just fulfilling my responsibilities."
My stomach twisted. Responsibilities. That's all she was to him? So they weren't happy. Just pretending, smiling for the crowd, performing a role.
"Why do you want me to break her heart?" he asked, something unreadable flickering in his eyes.
I gave a bitter shrug. "Because she broke mine."
With that, I turned and started walking back into the hall.
"Leave it," I said over my shoulder. "I gotta be going now."
I stepped into the crowded hall and froze.
There they were, Prashant and Avni, standing way too close, laughing like old friends.
My eyes widened as I blinked, trying to make sense of what I was seeing.
Was I hallucinating? What the hell was Prashant doing with Avni?
They looked like two lovers reunited after years.
And then, without hesitation, Prashant leaned in and hugged her.
I glanced around, expecting someone, anyone, to react.
But no one batted an eye. Apparently, an unmarried man hugging a married woman was no big deal here.
If I were one of those nosy gossip aunties, I would have clapped my hands, gathered the whole crowd, and publicly shamed them for hugging like that for no damn reason.
Pain shot through my palm. I looked down and realized I was clutching my phone so tightly it was digging into my skin.
I hated Avni Rathore at that moment. That stupid, sweet-faced girl. How dare she talk to Prashant like he meant something to her?
What really burned was watching Prashant, the way he smiled at her, that dimple he only flashed when he was genuinely happy, and the way he tossed a casual, funny remark like he had no worries in the world. Why couldn't he be like that with me? Why was I always the enemy in his story?
He never showed this side of himself to the world. But I had seen it, because he had let me. I knew what was crumbling beneath his uniform, the way he was quietly falling apart inside. The world didn't notice. But I did.
"Prashant Pandey," Aryan's voice cut through the tension as he approached them. Both of them turned at once.
"Good evening, sir," Prashant replied formally, his tone changing instantly.
"You two know each other?" I asked, my voice sharp despite how hard I tried to sound neutral.
"He's my childhood bestie," Avni beamed, all innocence and charm. God, I wanted to scratch that look off her face, especially when Prashant glanced at her like she was the best part of his past. "We used to go to school together."
"That was the best time of my life," Prashant added, grinning even wider.
My jaw clenched as I looked away, pretending not to hear the throbbing of my anger in my ears.
"That's great," Aryan said, surprisingly cheerful. "I'm glad Avni found someone she knows. At least she'll feel more comfortable now."
Aryan, please punch him for touching your wife, I begged him silently, but the words stayed locked behind my teeth.
"Did you bring the file, Captain?" I asked Prashant tightly, forcing the professional tone through my gritted teeth.
"See you around, Avni," Prashant said as he turned away from her and walked toward me. I glanced one last time at Aryan and Avni before following him, my boots echoing behind him.
He got into the vehicle, his expression softer now, clearly lost in the haze of sweet nostalgia.
Avni already had Aryan, and now she was setting her sights on Prashant? All this time, I thought boys were crazy about me. It turns out I was wrong.
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