CHAPTER 60! BETTER?
Two days had passed since Aadhira came back.
The house looked exactly the same as it always had. The polished floors, the tall windows, the paintings on the walls, even the flowers that were changed every morning.
Nothing had changed.
She still didn't feel at home here.
At eight, the dining room was mostly quiet. The only sounds were the occasional clink of a spoon against a plate and Ayaan talking nonstop about a science project he'd done at school.
Aadhira sat beside Ayaan and paid attention to every little thing he said.
His collar was crooked, so she fixed it. A few strands of hair had fallen over his forehead, and she pushed them back while he continued telling her about the volcano he had made for his science project.
She laughed when he got to the part he clearly liked the most.
She didn't look at Aryav.
Aryav sat at the head of the table, his newspaper folded beside his untouched espresso.
He hadn't said much since breakfast had started. Every now and then, his eyes went to Aadhira.
She never looked back.
When Ayaan asked for the fruit, Aryav reached for the bowl. He moved it across the table toward Aadhira, stopping it beside her plate.
He had picked out the pomegranate pieces for her. He knew she liked them more than the melon.
Aadhira glanced at the bowl. For a moment, she said nothing. Then she picked it up and moved it back to the middle of the table.
Instead, she tore a piece of paratha and put it on Ayaan's plate.
She went back to listening to him.
She didn't thank him or say anything at all.
A muscle moved in Aryav's jaw.
He looked at the bowl for a second, then picked up his espresso instead. It had gone cold, but he drank it anyway.
Ayaan kept talking.
By two, the lower floors had become warm enough that Aadhira couldn't sit there anymore. She left the sitting room and wandered through the quieter part of the house instead.
The corridors were cooler.
She walked down the gallery in her slippers, passing two guards near the staircase and another one farther down the corridor. She was getting tired of seeing them everywhere.
The library was the only place she could think of where they were less likely to follow her.
The library doors were half open. Aadhira pushed one of them wider and stepped inside.
The smell of old books and leather met her immediately. She had always liked it in here.
She moved along the bottom shelf, brushing her fingers over the spines without really reading the titles.
Then one of them caught her attention.
A thick leather-bound book of poetry was lying on the small table beside a pile of financial journals.
Aadhira knew that book.
It was the one she'd left on, before she left the house.
She picked it up and opened the cover.
Something slipped out from between the pages and landed on the carpet.
A photograph.
Aadhira picked it up.
It had been taken in the Courtyard four months ago. She was sitting on the stone bench, laughing at something outside the frame.
Her hair was loose, and she remembered that day now only because she'd spent half of it complaining about the heat.
Aryav was standing behind her.
He wasn't looking at the camera. He was looking at her.
She stared at the picture for a while.
Something tightened in her chest.
Footsteps sounded in the hallway.
Aadhira quickly turned the photograph over, pushed it back between the pages and closed the book.
Aryav came into the library with a few documents in his hand, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
He stopped when he saw her standing beside the table with the book pressed against her chest.
His eyes moved from her face to the book.
He glanced at the table.
He knew which book it was.
Whatever he understood, he kept it to himself. He stayed near the doorway.
"Ayaan is home," he said.
Aadhira held the book tighter against herself.
"I know."
Aryav looked at her for another moment, then turned and left.
He left the door open.
By eight-thirty, Aadhira was outside by the pool.
The night had turned cooler, and she folded her arms as she stood near the water. She'd been carrying the last ninety days around in her head since she'd come back, going over the same things and getting nowhere.
The pool lights were off. Only the moon showed in the water.
She heard footsteps behind her.
She knew who it was without turning around.
She hugged her arms a little tighter and turned around.
Aryav was already there.
Aadhira took a breath and walked toward the house, intending to pass him without saying anything.
"How long are you planning to pretend I don't exist?" Aryav asked softly. Aadhira kept her eyes locked straight ahead, taking another step forward.
"Until pretending becomes easier than remembering."
Aryav moved in front of her before she could get past him.
"Aryav."
She tried to step around him. His hand caught her at the waist.
Aadhira immediately twisted away, but he held on.
"Let go of me."
"No."
His voice was calm.
That was enough to bring all of it back.
The last two days of avoiding him.
The guards outside her door. The memory of him carrying her out of her family's house while she fought him the entire way.
She was angry all over again.
Aadhira grabbed his forearm.
Before he could say anything else, she sank her teeth hard into the bare flesh between his wrist and thumb.
She waited for him to react. He would pull away. he would get angry.
Aryav didn't flinch. He didn't pull his arm back. He didn't even tighten his hold around her waist.
He simply stood there in the cold night air, his chest rising and falling slowly, watching her bite him with an unsettling, calm.
She bit him again, harder this time.
Then she tasted blood.
Aadhira let go and stepped back, breathing through her mouth.
There was a small mark on his skin where she'd bitten him.
For a few seconds, neither of them said anything.
Aryav lowered his arm and looked at the bite.
He wasn't angry.
That made Aadhira nervous.
"Better?" he asked softly.
Aadhira swallowed hard, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, her eyes burning. "What?"
Aryav lifted his injured hand between them, showing her the bloody mark. "You are angry Did that make you feel better?"
He didn't sound offended. He didn't sound furious. He sounded genuinely, disturbingly calm-as if her anger was something he was entirely willing to absorb if it brought her closer.
That only made her more frustrated.
"I hate you," she spat, her voice trembling.
"I know," Aryav replied smoothly.
"You don't seem bothered by that."
"I'm not."
"Why?"
Aryav stepped closer.
"Because you are lying."
Aadhira's breath hitched.
"You are obsessed." She placed both hands flat against his chest and pushed with every ounce of strength she possessed. He barely moved an inch.
"Is that my fault?" he asked, tilting his head.
Aadhira stared at him. She opened her mouth, closed it, and stared even harder. "Then whose fault is it? Mine?"
"Entirely."
"There are eight billion people in this world, Aryav!"
"I know."
"Then why me?"
His eyes stayed on hers.
"You're the only one who makes me feel everything."
Aadhira didn't know what to say to that.
She looked away first, but even that felt like losing some small argument she hadn't agreed to have.
"What did I ever do to you?" Her voice cracked. "Why are you doing this?"
Aryav bent his head until his mouth was close to her ear.
His voice dropped when he spoke.
"Because every time you walk away from me," he said quietly, "I start thinking that one day you might not come back."
Aadhira didn't answer.
For a moment, she could only hear the water moving behind them.
She had expected control from him. Threats. Maybe another argument.
She hadn't expected that. She swallowed.
The anger in her chest suddenly had nowhere to go. She had no response left.
"Why are you so angry?" he asked softly.
You carried me like a child right in front of my family!" she snapped, a sudden flush of heat spreading up her neck to her cheeks.
"Do you have any idea how embarrassing that was? What are they going to think?"
Aryav pulled back slightly, his expression steady. "That I finally brought my wife home."
"Aryav-"
"Let me go," she whispered.
" I want to sleep."
Her voice was tired now, and she couldn't keep looking at him.
Aryav looked at her for a moment.
Then his hand loosened. He stepped back.
Aadhira hadn't expected him to let her go so easily.
She straightened her clothes, took a couple of steps back and then turned toward the house.
At the threshold, her hand gripped the cool metal door handle. She stopped. She told herself not to look back.
She told herself to walk inside and lock the door. But unable to stop herself, she turned her head over her shoulder just once.
Aryav was still standing near the edge of the pool, his hands resting casually in his pockets, watching her.
The moment her eyes met his-as if he had known with absolute certainty that she would look back-a small, dark smirk touched his lips.
Aadhira's breath hit her throat. She snapped her head back around, pulled the glass door open, and hurried inside.
The bedroom was dark except for the orange light coming in from the courtyard.
Aadhira closed the door and leaned against it for a moment.
Her heart was still beating too fast.
She changed quickly and climbed into bed, pulling the duvet up to her chin.
She closed her eyes.
Maybe if she slept, she'd stop thinking about what he'd said.
She turned onto her side and pulled the spare pillow closer. Then she stopped.
There was a familiar smell on it.
It was cedar, dark tobacco, and cold rain. Aryav's cologne.
She had spent months trying not to think about him. She had told herself she'd left everything behind when she walked out.
Apparently, Aryav hadn't done the same.
She lay back down and pulled the duvet around herself. Sleep didn't come.
Outside, Aryav was still by the pool.