CHAPTER 54! HIS LITTLE BOY
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Kashvi reached home wrapped in a heavy, suffocating silence. She barely remembered the drive back.
The city had passed beyond the rain-slicked taxi window in fractured, blurring streaks of gold and white, but her eyes had registered none of it.
All she could see was Vivaan standing beneath the warm restaurant lights-calm, unreadable, his hand wrapped around another woman's wrist.
She had spent two months trying to convince herself that staying away from him was the right thing to do, telling herself that distance was protection.
But one glimpse of him with someone else had been enough to shatter every carefully crafted lie.
She stepped through the front door, her movements heavy.
"Aa gayi, beta?" Gauri called out, wiping her hands on a towel as she walked into the hallway.
The smile on her face vanished the moment she caught sight of her daughter's pale, drawn expression.
"Kya hua... Kashvi, tu theek toh hai?"
"I'm fine, Maa." The lie surfaced automatically, polished by months of practice.
Gauri studied her for a lingering second, sensing the deep shift beneath her daughter's fragile composure.
"Tu royi hai?"
"No." Kashvi's fingers tightened around the strap of her handbag.
"Kashvi-"
"Maa, please."
Something in her voice made Gauri stop. Kashvi looked away, her throat tight.
"I'm just tired. I'm going upstairs."
"Pehle kuch kha le-"
"I'm not hungry."
Before her mother could press further, Kashvi turned and climbed the stairs. The moment she crossed the threshold of her bedroom, the lock clicked shut.
Her handbag slipped from her fingers, hitting the floor beside the armchair. She collapsed onto the edge of the mattress and simply sat there, staring blankly at the wall. Then her face crumpled.
She bent forward, pressing both hands over her mouth as the first sob escaped-silent and hot at first, then racking her entire frame with violent shudders.
Below, the sharp chime of the doorbell rang through the quiet house.
Gauri glanced toward the wall clock.
"Is waqt kaun ho sakta hai?"
She walked to the front entrance and pulled the door open. A tall figure stood beneath the porch light-a charcoal-grey tailored shirt with the sleeves rolled once at the wrists, dark trousers, and a posture so deliberate it seemed to alter the air around him.
"Namaste."
Gauri blinked, caught off guard by the intensity of his dark eyes.
"Namaste... ji aap kon?"
"My name is Vivaan Khanna."
Her eyebrows lifted. "Vivaan Khanna? Khanna Jewellers wale?"
He inclined his head. "Yes."
Gauri studied the sharp angle of his jaw, the absolute control in his frame.
"Kisse milna hai aapko?"
"Kashvi. I am her friend."
"Koi zaroori kaam tha?" her mother asked.
"I need to speak with her."
"Abhi?"
"Yes. It's important."
Gauri's eyes narrowed slightly. She didn't know this man, but she understood one thing instantly: he wasn't standing on her porch to make a polite impression.
He was here because he had already decided he was coming inside.
After a long, quiet pause, Gauri stepped aside.
"Doosra kamra hai upar wala.
Darwaza khula rakhna."
Vivaan acknowledged the boundary with a single nod. "Of course. Thank you."
He stepped across the threshold and headed up the stairwell. Gauri turned toward the living room, looking directly at her husband.
"Mujhe pehle se shaq tha."
Her husband looked up from his newspaper.
"Kis baat ka?"
"Iska boyfriend hai. Aise hi thodi koi har rishte ko mana karta hai."
He laughed quietly under his breath. "Usne khud kaha ki sirf dost hai wo."
Gauri folded her arms, a knowing smile touching her lips.
"Tum chup raho. Maa hoon. Mujhe achhe se pata hai kaunsa dost kitna dost hota hai."
Upstairs, the shower had run for nearly fifteen minutes before Kashvi finally shut off the tap.
She wrapped herself in a soft bathrobe and stepped out of the bathroom, rubbing her damp hair with a towel.
She took two steps toward her vanity, then stopped dead in her tracks.
A low knock echoed against the doorframe. Vivaan stood just outside her bedroom doorway, leaving a deliberate, respectful gap between the frame and the wood.
Kashvi's entire body froze.
Her heart slammed against her ribs as his dark gaze swept over her damp hair, her bare, unadorned face, her swollen red eyes, and the towel clutched defensively against her chest.
"Why are you here?" she whispered, panic threading her voice.
"What if my mom sees you?"
"I asked your mother."
"What?"
"She gave me permission."
Kashvi stepped toward him so quickly that a few drops of water fell from her hair onto the wooden floor.
"You... came through the main door?"
"Yes."
She blinked, completely thrown off balance.
"Why?"
Kashvi pressed her lips together, her posture locking up as defensive walls slammed back into place.
"Just leave, Vivaan."
Instead, he pushed the door half-shut-leaving it cracked open-before taking a slow, deliberate step toward her. She instinctively backed away until the edge of the mattress caught the backs of her knees, forcing her to sit down.
Vivaan stopped a few feet away, maintaining his distance, but his dark gaze lingered on her face-her soft, bare lips, her trembling hands.
"Why are you shaking, Kashvi?" his voice dropped into a quiet, unyielding rhythm.
"I'm not."
"You are."
She dropped her gaze to her lap, her fingers curling tightly into the fabric of her robe.
"Let's talk. Can we?" Vivaan asked quietly.
Kashvi slowly nodded.
"Who did you think she was?" he asked softly.
Silence filled the room. Kashvi swallowed hard against the lump in her throat, then slowly looked up.
"Your girlfriend?"
Vivaan reached into his trousers, pulled out his phone, unlocked the screen, and stepped forward to present the display.
The photograph showed the exact same woman-sleek cream coat, stunning features, brilliant smile.
"Are we talking about her?"
Kashvi look at picture, it's same girl from yesterday and slowly nodded.
"Meera," Vivaan said softly. "My sister."
Kashvi stared up at him, her lips parting. "What?"
"She is married."
"Lier, You told me you were an orphan."
"I am," Vivaan said, his tone steady.
"When I was a child, Meera's parents took me in. She didn't have a brother. So she made one."
Kashvi could only stare, breathless, processing the words. Her eyes dropped to his hand.
"She was touching your wrist."
"And?"
"You don't let people touch you."
"So."
"You hate it."
"I do."
Kashvi looked at him, genuinely bewildered.
"So I thought she was your girlfriend."
For the first time, a flicker of amusement touched his eyes.
"She's my sister. And she was trying watches for her husband. She couldn't decide which one would suit him, so she used me as a model."
A shuddering breath escaped Kashvi's lips. The crushing weight in her chest lifted, but it was immediately replaced by a fresh, stinging surge of guilt.
"I thought..."
"I know."
She looked up at him, completely exposed.
"I thought I was protecting you."
Vivaan's eyes hardened slightly.
"From what?"
"From me," she whispered.
"You thought loving you would ruin my life?" His voice dropped.
"So you decided to ruin it yourself? You decided what was best for me. You decided I couldn't handle the truth-that I would be safer without you."
"I was scared. Vivaan."
"Then you should have come to me."
"I didn't know how to love you without putting you in danger!"
Vivaan's jaw tightened.
"And I didn't know how to lose you without losing myself."
The simplicity and raw weight of his words broke something inside her.
He wasn't shouting. He was simply telling her that he understood exactly why she had run-and that understanding didn't make the pain any lighter.
Silence stretched between them. Kashvi could hear the faint ticking of the clock on her bedside table, the soft drip of water from her damp hair, her own uneven breathing.
Then she whispered, "I missed you."
Vivaan stared down at her.
"Not more than me."
That was all. Four words. Her composure completely broke. She stepped forward and wrapped both arms around his waist, burying her face against his chest.
Vivaan went completely still for one heartbeat. Two. Then his arms closed around her-not cautiously, not politely.
He pulled her flush against him with a force that betrayed everything his face had refused to show.
Kashvi's fingers curled tightly into the back of his shirt.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for every time I chose silence."
Vivaan lowered his chin against her damp hair. "I was angry."
She froze against his chest.
"Are you still?"
A heavy pause. "A little. But I'm more relieved that you're finally in my arms."
She tightened her arms around him, a wet laugh bubbling past her throat.
"I was so dumb."
His hand moved slowly over the back of her head. "You are still dumb, Kashvi."
She pulled back just enough to glare at him, hitting him lightly in the chest. "You're horrible."
"And yet you're still holding me."
Kashvi's breath hitched.
Their eyes met, inches apart.
"I love you," she whispered.
Vivaan didn't respond immediately. Her heart dropped, and she swallowed hard against a sudden knot in her throat.
"I've loved you for so long that I don't even remember what my life felt like before you."
His eyes closed for a brief second. When he opened them again, the dark intensity in his gaze made her breath catch.
"Again."
"What?"
"Say it again."
Her lips trembled into a small, genuine smile through her tears.
"I love you, Vivaan."
"That," Vivaan murmured, his breath fanning across her lips, "is the first truth you've given me in months."
A small laugh escaped her, but Vivaan's softened expression shifted sharply, his tone dropping into a quiet, velvet threat.
"Kabir Malhotra."
Kashvi's smile vanished instantly. "Vivaan, no. Please."
"Should I be interested?"
"I met him because my parents asked me to. That's all! There is nothing between us. Nothing. I swear."