CHAPTER 53! YOU NEVER COAMPLIMENTED ME #2
Aadhira froze.
Not because of the threat.
Because of the word.
Darling.
Her eyes flickered toward him. He had never called her that. Not when they were alone. Not during the nights when she had once fallen asleep against his chest. Never.
And somehow, in front of a stranger, in the middle of a threat, that one word found its way beneath every wall she had spent weeks building.
Then she remembered what he had actually said. Her stomach turned cold. He wasn't joking. He was entirely capable of it.
"I can hang them in our bedroom so you can look at them whenever you want," he added softly.
The table went dead cold.
Aryav leaned back slightly, regarding Rajiv as if evaluating a piece of property.
"You seem like a decent man, Mr. Sharma."
Rajiv gave a stiff, unconscious nod, his face drained of color.
"Stay that way."
Then, Aryav turned slowly to Kabir. He let his gaze settle on him for several seconds-long enough for Kabir to become painfully aware of every breath he was taking.
"She seemed comfortable," Aryav said calmly. "Thank you."
"You knew where the line was," Vivaan added quietly from the side, his tone level. "Keep knowing."
Kabir swallowed hard. He glanced once toward Aryav, then immediately looked back at Kashvi.
He pushed his chair back slowly. "I..." Kabir began, his voice tight. "You don't have to decide anything today, Kashvi. Take all the time you need."
He stood up, smoothing his jacket.
"I think we should leave. I'm getting late for work."
Kashvi looked at Kabir. He wasn't angry or offended; he simply looked like a man who had accidentally stepped into a war that had started long before he arrived.
"I'm sorry," Kashvi whispered.
His smile was small, but genuine. "Don't be. You didn't do anything."
Rajiv stood a second later, stiffly bidding goodbye. "It was nice meeting you both."
Without another word, both men quietly turned and walked away, slipping out of the restaurant as fast as they could.
The quiet left behind in their wake was far heavier than before.
Kashvi stood up abruptly, her posture trembling with adrenaline. Struggling with the latch of her handbag, she crammed her phone inside and snapped it shut. "Aadhi... let's go."
Before Aadhira could even move her hands to the armrests, Aryav spoke. "Vivaan. Take her."
Vivaan rose smoothly. He lifted a hand, holding it suspended in the air a few inches behind Kashvi's back-a cautious gesture meant to guide her through the aisle. He didn't touch her.
Kashvi turned, staring at his suspended hand as if it belonged to a monster. Then her eyes locked onto his face, burning with absolute betrayal.
"Don't." Her voice was razor-sharp, but it cracked on the edge. "Don't touch me. Go show your love to that woman."
Vivaan went still.
For the first time since entering the restaurant, something shifted behind his stone expression. His brows drew together.
A flash of genuine, utter confusion flickered across his face.
"What woman?" Vivaan asked quietly.
Kashvi's lips parted. She had expected anger, denial, or even guilt.
Not that. Genuine confusion.
Her fingers tightened around the strap of her handbag, the certainty she had carried all the way here beginning to crack.
"Don't," she whispered, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. She looked away before he could see her expression crumble. "Just... don't."
"You know exactly who I'm talking about," she added, her voice barely audible.
"Kashvi." His voice was quieter now.
"I don't."
She turned her glare toward Aryav, bracing herself. "I'm taking Aadhira with me. Shaurya Bhai trusted me not to leave her alone with you. And unlike you... I don't break trust."
Vivaan instinctively shifted half a step forward to shield Kashvi, knowing how little tolerance Aryav had for disrespect.
But Aryav gave a tiny, subtle shake of his head-a silent reassurance that he would never harm her.
Vivaan nodded, stepping back.
Aryav regarded Aadhira in absolute stillness. He didn't defend himself against Kashvi's words.
He simply sat there, watching his wife gather herself.
Aadhira reached for her clutch on the table, her fingers brushing the hem of her sleeve as she adjusted it to hide her trembling wrists.
She kept her head down, refusing to meet his eyes.
The silence between them stretched, heavy and suffocating, until Aryav finally broke it.
"You never complimented me," Aryav said suddenly.
Aadhira stopped adjusting her bag. A faint, almost disbelieving beat passed before her head snapped up.
Of all the things he could have said after threatening to carve a man's eyes out-after terrifying everyone at the table-that absurd, possessive thought was what he chose to utter.
"Because you had nothing good worth praising," Aadhira countered, her protective armor slamming back into place.
"Other women will disagree," Aryav replied, his voice calm, conversational. "They say I'm handsome enough."
Aadhira scoffed softly, looking away. "Then go listen to them. Why ask me?"
"Because they don't matter." Aryav leaned forward slightly, his dark eyes locking onto hers with terrifying weight. "You do."
Aadhira's breath caught.
For one second, she hated how easily four words could still reach her.
She had spent weeks building walls, convincing herself that love could be buried beneath anger. He had just put his hand against one of those walls-and somehow, it had moved.
Her eyes dropped briefly to his right hand resting on the table. The white bandage was still wrapped around his palm.
Her bandage. She remembered wrapping it-the heat of his skin beneath her fingers, the way he had gone completely still while she worked, how carefully she had tied the knot.
Aadhira tore her eyes away, her gaze hardening instantly. She couldn't let yesterday invade today.
"You don't get to say things like that anymore," she whispered, her voice laced with iron.
"When are you coming back?" Aryav asked softly.
She didn't answer.
"You've been away long enough, Aadhira," he continued, his voice dropping into absolute certainty.
"Don't test my patience. Come home."
Aadhira met his eyes fully, refusing to flinch or show a single tremble.
"You already know where I live," she replied coldly. "You never waited for my consent before. Why start now?"
The corner of Aryav's jaw tightened, a sharp muscle ticking under his skin.
"If that's an invitation, then I am more than willing to come and take you."
"I said no," Aadhira countered, her voice unwavering.
She grabbed her bag and looked at Kashvi. "Let's go."
Together, the two women walked past Vivaan and strode toward the glass doors.
Just as Aadhira's hand touched the cool metal handle, Aryav's voice cut softly through the space behind her.
"You'll come home."
She didn't give him the satisfaction of turning around. The heavy glass door swung shut behind them.
Aryav remained seated long after the glass doors swung shut. He didn't rise. He didn't reach for his phone. He didn't order Vivaan to sprint after her.
On the table sat the untouched glass of peach tea that Aadhira had left behind. Condensation gathered along the glass, beads of water slowly trailing down the clear surface.
Aryav reached forward. His long fingers wrapped around the cold glass, rotating it deliberately until his thumb rested on the exact spot where her fingers had held it moments ago.
He pressed his skin against the wet surface, lingering there in the quiet.
Vivaan stepped up, halting at his shoulder in complete silence.
"Kabir and rajiv," Aryav murmured. His voice was almost inaudible, but it carried a weight that made the surrounding air feel thin.
Vivaan's gaze sharpened. "Yes, Boss."
Aryav's thumb moved slowly over the condensation on the glass. "Find out everything."
"Yes, Boss."
Aryav finally looked toward the doors through which Aadhira had disappeared. His hand tightened around the cold glass until his knuckles turned white.
"I want to know why they were sitting across from my wife," Aryav said, his voice dropping an octave lower.
"And I want to know whether they ever intends to sit there again."
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