Chapter 59
Author's POV:
Three months had passed-quiet, steady, and unbelievably precious.
Ayaan had never known that healing could have a sound.
Sometimes it was Aayat's soft humming in the kitchen.
Sometimes her footsteps outside his study.
Sometimes just the gentle clinking of her bangles when she tied her hair.
He didn't need anything else.
This morning, like so many quiet mornings before it, he stood in the wide, sunlit kitchen of his London penthouse, setting lunch on the table.
The aroma of saffron rice drifted upward; the gravy simmered gently on the stove.
He had learned to cook with one intention-to make sure she ate on time.
To make sure she smiled at least once during the meal.
He placed the last bowl down and wiped his hands with a small, content exhale.
"Aayat!" he called, raising his voice just a little. "Khana laga diya hai... a jao."
Her voice floated down from upstairs-warm, soft, alive.
"Haan, aa rahi hoon!"
Ayaan instinctively turned toward the staircase.
And then he froze.
Aayat appeared at the top of the stairs, descending one step at a time, sunlight falling over her like she carried her own quiet glow.
She wore a sky-blue anarkali suit today-simple, but so breathtaking on her that Ayaan felt his breath stutter.
Her hair fell open around her shoulders, long waves bouncing lightly with every step.
Her cheeks were flushed a soft rose, her smile gentle, and her eyes-those eyes-held the same sparkle he had fallen for the very first day he saw her.
His world stopped moving.
She didn't know how she looked.
She never did.
And that was part of the problem.
She reached the bottom of the stairs, walked toward him, and stood right in front of him.
"Kya banaya hai aj tumne?" she asked casually, tilting her head.
Ayaan didn't respond.
He couldn't.
He just... looked at her.
Her face scrunched in confusion as she waved a hand in front of his eyes.
"Kahan pohanch gaye? Wapas aa jao..."
He blinked-caught-and straightened quickly, clearing his throat as if he hadn't just been staring at her like he'd forgotten basic human behavior.
"W-woh..." He moved behind the chair, pulling it out for her. "Khana thanda ho raha hai. Pehle hum kha lete hain."
Aayat raised her shoulders in a playful shrug.
"Okay," she said, and sat down.
The simple sound of her chair scraping the floor had never felt so grounding.
They ate together, talking about small things-weather, grocery lists, a weird song they'd heard earlier, and the new series she wanted to start watching. These simple conversations, these quiet little moments, Ayaan cherished far more than he would ever admit aloud.
When lunch ended, Aayat stood to clear the table.
Ayaan gently stopped her with a hand on her wrist.
"Nahin... main kar luga.... Aur," he added, " Aj humein Dr. Eleanor ke paas jana hai. Tayyar rehna."
Aayat replied casually, like he had just mentioned a walk in the park.
"Okay."
She turned and headed back upstairs.
Ayaan watched her until she disappeared behind her bedroom door and the soft click of it closing echoed through the quiet penthouse.
He shook his head, a small helpless smile tugging at his lips.
"Pagli," he whispered softly to himself as he gathered the plates.
But his heart was light.
She was getting better.
And that was everything.
~
In the last three months, Aayat had changed in small but miraculous ways.
Her laughter came more easily now.
Her anger eased quicker.
Her nights were less restless.
Her eyes sparkled like they used to-like the world hadn't broken her... completely.
Ayaan had missed that sparkle.
He had prayed for it.
"Ya Allah tera shukar..." he murmured as he rinsed the dishes. "Tu ne mujhe meri purani Aayat de di... jitna shukar karun tera utna kam hai."
He closed his eyes.
And a memory surfaced-sharp and heavy.
~
Dr. Eleanor sat across from him, her hands folded, her voice calm.
"I'll be honest, Ayaan," she said, "I assumed it would take you days to convince her to come hospital. But you brought her the very next day. That tells me... this isn't as deep-rooted as I feared. And she spoke to me-not much, but enough. That silence is normal."
Ayaan leaned forward. "Matlab koi serious masla nahi?"
She sighed.
"Ayaan... the problem is serious. Because even small triggers affect her heavily now.
That means her mind has been under strain for a long time.
But-" she raised a finger, softening her tone, "Aayat's response also tells me something crucial.
If you want, you can bring her back. You can stabilize her. "
Ayaan swallowed.
Dr. Eleanor continued, eyes studying him.
"When I spoke to Aayat, I sensed something. Everything she's been through... everything her family did... left a deep scar. But in her story, you appeared again and again. A friend who gave her hope. A thread she held onto."
Ayaan looked down.
New guilt clawed at him.
"When you left her five months ago," Dr. Eleanor said softly, "that thread snapped. And the pain surfaced. That pain led to what happened."
Ayaan clenched his jaw. "Mujhe pata hota toh kabhi nahi jata."
"Well," she exhaled, "in a way... it's good you came back. Because truthfully, Aayat wasn't fine even then. Now-" she leaned back, "you need to treat her gently. Keep her away from work for some time. Take her morning walk. Give her time. Talk to her. She needs you, Ayaan."
He nodded.
"And the medicines. Don't skip them."
"I won't," he promised.
Ayaan opened his eyes.
And for a moment...
he felt grateful just to exist in the same space as her healing.
~
At 4 PM sharp, they reached the hospital.
Ayaan waited outside while Dr. Eleanor spoke to Aayat inside the cabin. Minutes passed. Then the door opened and Aayat peeked out, smiling lightly.
"Ayaan... andar aa jao. Dr. Eleanor bula rahi hain."
He stood immediately and walked in.
Aayat remained standing near the door.
"Main bahir wait kar rahi hoon tumhara." she said gently.
And she left.
Her smile lingered in the air even after she was gone.
Ayaan sat down.
Dr. Eleanor looked at him with the expression of someone carrying good news.
"Well..." she said cheerfully, "Aayat is doing wonderfully. She's stable. Her improvement is very good."
Ayaan's shoulders dropped with relief.
"She's... okay?"
"Better than okay," the doctor laughed. "She's healthy. Emotionally stable. No panic. No tremors. No irrational withdrawal. She's functioning well. You've done a good job, Ayaan."
His heart warmed.
"So... she's completely fine?"
Dr. Eleanor nodded, then raised a cautioning eyebrow.
"She is fine. But still-careful for some time."
Ayaan nodded vigorously.
"Ek aur baat puchni thi," he said hesitantly. "Kya main Aayat ko India le ja sakta hoon? Mama Baba bohut miss kar rahe hain ussey."
Dr. Eleanor smiled brightly.
"Yes. Absolutely. And she can join work again too."
Ayaan stood, bursting with gratitude.
"Thank you so much," he said, shaking her hand.
Then he left the cabin-almost running because he couldn't wait to tell her.
~
He stepped out into the hallway, heart pounding. The air felt lighter. The world brighter.
He reached the car, opened the door, and slid inside.
Aayat looked at him with raised brows.
"Aise kya dekh rahe ho?" she said. "Pagal to-"
But before she could finish, Ayaan reached over and pulled her into a tight embrace.
Aayat froze.
Her eyes widened.
Ayaan held her shoulders firmly, pulling back only enough to look at her face.
"You're okay, Aayat," he said, voice thick with emotion.
"Tum bilkul theek ho gayi ho. Hum India ja sakte hain. Tum office join kar sakti ho."
She blinked at him-shocked, touched, confused, everything at once.
Ayaan looked like someone who had just won the biggest battle of his life.
He quickly straightened, clearing his throat and pretending none of that emotional overflow happened.
"Hum... next week India ja rahe hain," he said, starting the car.
Aayat hid her smile, watching him from the corner of her eye.
"Pagal..." she whispered under her breath.
He didn't hear.
Or maybe he did.
But he didn't say anything.
The drive home was quiet... soft... content.
But fate was rarely this kind.
Because the real test was waiting for them.
Because someone else was waiting in India too.
Someone who had never stopped searching.
Never stopped hoping.