CHAPTER 23 #2
Abhimanyu watched him for a moment, completely stunned. His elder brother sat at the bedside, sleeves rolled up, personally tending to his wife. A small smile curved his lips, liking what he saw, even if he knew Karan himself would never acknowledge it.
“I will ask Komal to come and check on her,” Abhimanyu offered.
“No,” Karan’s response was immediate. “I have asked Maria to call Doctor Patel.”
Abhimanyu sighed, accepting the decision. Just then, Mishti murmured again in her sleep, the same word slipping out, barely audible.
“…love…”
Abhimanyu glanced at her, then back at Karan. “I think she has taken too much stress because of what happened yesterday at the office,” he said gently.
Karan said nothing, just continued cooling her forehead.
Maria entered the room at that very moment and informed them that the doctor would arrive in twenty minutes. Karan acknowledged it with a nod.
Abhimanyu hesitated for a moment before speaking again. “Bhai,” he said, “now that Maria is here and the doctor is on the way, I guess we can leave for the office. We have a meeting with the Japanese client. Mr Tong does not like being kept waiting.”
Karan paused.
For a few seconds, he said nothing. Then he spoke, “You go ahead. Handle the meeting. I will stay here. If you need me, call.”
Abhimanyu felt a quiet satisfaction bloom inside him. The concern on Karan’s face, the way he refused to leave Mishti, spoke louder than any confession ever could.
“Are you sure?” Abhimanyu asked, still testing him. “You are more needed there than here.”
Karan finally looked up and glared. “Go.”
Abhimanyu did not argue further. He hid his smile and left the room quickly.
Once the door closed, Karan let out a heavy sigh, adjusting the blanket around Mishti carefully, ensuring she was properly covered.
What the hell was he doing?
Abhimanyu was right. He should have been at work, focused on the meeting, on the deals, on the plans he had been building for years. Not sitting beside her bed, worrying over a fever.
Not staying back for her.
For a woman who belonged to the Goels.
And yet, leaving her like this never felt like an option.
He closed his eyes briefly. What he was even doing? Every time Mishti was involved, something slipped beyond his control. He was too close to striking the final blow in his revenge. Too close to completing what he had lived for all these years. He could not afford distractions.
But despite his conflicted thoughts, there was something which he was certain about. That even after he took his revenge, Mishti was not going anywhere. She would remain his wife. With him. Until his last breath.
Her murmuring reached him again, the same word.
“…love…”
His jaw tightened. What exactly was she dreaming?
He brushed a stray lock of hair away from her forehead with surprising tenderness. Her skin was still burning hot.
Clenching his fists, Karan turned toward the door. Almost on cue, Maria entered the room.
“Check where the doctor has reached,” he said sharply.
Maria nodded at once and stepped out again, dialling Doctor Patel as she went.
Karan turned back to Mishti. His hand hovered over her for a moment before resting lightly against her forehead. He couldn’t wait for her to feel better.
****************
Late Afternoon
Mishti stirred on the bed. Her eyelids fluttered open with effort. She felt her body feeling unbearably heavy. A dull weakness settled in her limbs, and her throat felt dry, almost burning. For a moment, she lay there disoriented, trying to place herself, trying to remember why she felt like this.
When she turned her head slowly, the movement made her dizzy.
“How are you feeling now, Ma’am?” Maria smiled the moment she saw her awake.
Mishti frowned faintly. “What happened to me?”
“You had a fever since morning,” Maria explained softly. “The doctor came and checked you. She gave you medicines and something to help you sleep. You should start feeling better in a few hours.”
Mishti nodded weakly, still trying to process it. Maria helped her sit up, adjusting the pillows behind her back carefully until she was resting comfortably. She then busied herself around the bedside table, arranging her medicines.
“You have no idea how worried Karan Sir was seeing you like this.”
“Karan?” Mishti looked at her, stunned, her weakness momentarily forgotten.
Maria glanced at her and blushed, clearly aware of what she was revealing.
“Sir did not leave your side even for a minute,” she said honestly.
“Only just now he had to step away because of an important call. Otherwise, he was here the whole time. I have never seen Sir care for anyone like this… except Abhimanyu Sir, of course. But even that concern is different.”
Mishti listened in stunned silence.
“Karan did not go to the office today?” she asked quietly.
“No, Ma’am,” Maria replied. “He stayed back.”
Mishti did not know what to think anymore. Karan staying back for her didn’t make sense. Before she could gather her thoughts, Maria added. “You were murmuring something in your sleep.”
Mishti’s heart skipped. “What… what was I saying?”
“You were saying ‘love’. Again and again.”
Mishti froze. Her mind instantly went back to the previous night.
To the questions she had been running from.
To the realisation she had finally faced.
Ever since she had accepted that she was probably in love with Karan, no matter how complicated and painful that truth was, her thoughts had refused to leave him.
She had barely slept because of this tension and fear of being in love.
And that was a problem. Ever since childhood, whenever she was overstressed, her body reacted first. Fever had always been her weakness.
But this time, it was not just stress.
It was something else entirely.
A bitter, helpless smile touched her lips as the thought crossed her mind. This was not an ordinary fever. This was ‘pyar ka bukhar’…Fever born of love.
She turned to Maria again. “Did… did Karan hear me saying that?” she asked.
Maria nodded without hesitation. “Yes, Ma’am. He surely heard that as he was here all the time.”
Mishti’s fingers curled into the sheet beneath her. The thought of him hearing her murmur that word, over and over again, made her pulse race with nervousness.
What would he think?
That was when the door opened, and Karan walked in.
He was still in his formal workwear. A deep wine shade silk shirt, perfect against his broad shoulders, paired with dark brown tailored trousers that made the whole combination look quietly powerful and expensive without trying too hard.
The moment his eyes fell on her, awake and sitting up against the pillows, the tension he had been carrying since morning eased, just a little. His shoulders relaxed in a way he probably did not even realise himself.
Maria noticed it. Wanting to give them time to talk in private, she cleared her throat gently and smiled at Mishti. “I will get some hot soup for you, Ma’am,” she said, and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her.
Mishti instinctively leaned back against the pillows, using whatever strength she had left, gripping the comforter. Her heart pounded too loudly in her ears, and she could hardly meet his eyes.
She was in love with him.
She swallowed the thought as Karan walked closer and sat down on the edge of the bed. He reached out, lifting his hand instinctively toward her neck, ready to check her temperature.
The moment his fingers were about to touch her skin, she flinched and pulled back.
Karan froze, his hand suspended mid-air. He glared at her in irritation, not because she had stopped him, but because he did not understand why.
Mishti dropped her gaze immediately. “Why are you home?” she asked, unable to look at him.
He knew that would be her first question, and he was prepared.
“So that people do not say that when my wife was sick, I was still busy making money at the office,” he replied flatly.
Mishti knew that was not the truth. Karan Wadhwa had never cared about what people said about him. Not once.
She lifted her chin slightly, just enough to look at him. “And since when did Karan Wadhwa turn into a people pleaser?” she asked.
Before she could say another word, he leaned in and pressed a finger gently against her lips. “Shh,” he said quietly. “The doctor has asked you to talk less and stop your mind from overworking.”
Her lips parted at the unexpected touch.
It was a small movement, barely noticeable, but he felt it.
His finger lingered for a fraction longer than necessary, and his gaze dropped to her mouth before he could stop himself.
The memory of the other night flashed before his eyes.
The night he had claimed those lips, tasted them, sucked them to his heart's content.
Even now, he remembered and felt that taste of her in his mouth, and the way she had responded to him.
He immediately pulled his finger away from her lips, coming back to his senses. Instead, he checked her temperature with the back of his palm now.
“You look fine now,” he said. “Drink the soup Maria makes for you, take the medicines, and get some rest.”
Mishti watched him without blinking. The way he cared for her so openly was really surprising.
She did not even realise when her lips curved into a smile.
Karan saw it.
It was different from the polite smiles she gave others. Different from the brave ones she wore when he hurt her with his words. This one was soft, genuine, meant only for him.
For the first time, he realised that her smile was because of him. He had earned it.
And just with that smile, once again, Mishti was drawing him into her web. And he had no idea how to deal with it.
He stood up from the bed, turned his back to her, and walked away. Going to the office felt like the only sensible choice. Work was his safest distraction.