CHAPTER 61! CLOSE
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Aadhira pushed open the heavy mahogany door to the master suite, Ayaan sleeping heavily against her shoulder.
She stepped inside.
For a moment, she simply stood there, her hand resting against the polished dark wood of the frame.
She had spent days avoiding this room, treating it like a territory that belonged strictly to him. Tonight, she had walked into it herself.
The room was dim, saved from total darkness by the single lamp burning beside the bed.
Aryav was awake.
He looked at her, then at the sleeping boy in her arms. He didn't know what had made her come here-whether she was fine, whether Ayaan was restless, or if Reyansh had done something foolish to drive her out of her own room.
He crossed the floor and reached for the boy.
Aadhira tightened her hold instinctively, pulling her son a fraction closer. It wasn't that she didn't trust Aryav; she simply trusted herself more when it came to Ayaan.
Aryav could protect them with everything he had-even his life-but she wasn't sure he knew how to be gentle.
Aryav stopped. His hand remained suspended in the quiet air between them before he slowly lowered it back to his side.
"I've got him," he said quietly.
He didn't argue. He didn't remind her that Ayaan was his son, too, nor did he use his strength to take what was his.
He knew how possessive and protective she had become after the truck incident. He couldn't blame her.
She had always poured everything into Ayaan, softening into terms of endearment he had never heard her use for anyone else.
So he simply waited.
Aadhira looked at his sharp, unreadable face. Then, slowly, her arms relaxed.
Aryav slipped one broad, scarred arm beneath Ayaan's back and the other beneath his knees, lifting the boy effortlessly.
Ayaan barely stirred, his cheek turning instinctively into the hollow of Aryav's shoulder as he was carried across the hardwood floor.
Aryav laid him down gently on the far side of the massive bed, pulled the dark duvet up over his small chest, and adjusted the pillow beneath his head.
Ayaan sighed softly in his sleep and turned his face toward the linen.
Aryav stayed there for a moment, his hand resting briefly over the boy's hair. The sight did something quiet to the silence in the room.
When he was sure the boy was settled, Aryav turned back to face her.
"Aadhira."
She met his gaze.
"You've been standing there for a while," he said, his voice stripped of the terrifying authority he used outside these four walls. "What happened?"
She opened her mouth. Nothing came out. Aryav waited.
She looked toward the bed, then at Ayaan, then back to him. There were a dozen easier things she could have said-that the heater in her room was broken, that Ayaan wanted to sleep here, that her room was a mess. All of them lies.
Her fingers tightened around the edge of her sleeve.
"I just..." The words caught. She lowered her eyes, gathering whatever little courage remained, then looked at him again. "I want to sleep here."
Aryav went still.
For a moment, neither of them moved. Aadhira almost wished he would say something, because the sudden quiet made her painfully aware of how much she had just admitted.
Then Aryav simply said, "Okay."
No questions. No smugness. No reminder that this was the room she had spent days refusing to enter.
He walked over to his side of the mattress and pulled the heavy covers back.
Aadhira walked over and slipped beneath the dark linens on one side of Ayaan, while Aryav lay down on the other.
Their son slept peacefully between them, one tiny fist curled near his cheek.
Aadhira turned onto her side, facing away from Aryav.
He stayed on his edge, keeping a deliberate distance so as not to crowd her. Still, the sheer heat and weight of his presence radiated across the mattress.
She listened to the slow, heavy rhythm of his breathing in the dark.
Once, the mattress shifted as he moved. Aadhira's eyes opened. She waited, her muscles locking, but he had only turned onto his back, placing one hand behind his head.
Aadhira closed her eyes again, pulling the sheet tight against her collarbone. For the first time in months, her mind stopped fighting the urge to run.
Then, a heavy, throbbing pressure tightened low in her stomach, making her draw her knees upward.
She closed her eyes tight and waited for it to pass, but another cramp followed, sharper this time.
Of all nights.
She didn't want to need anything from him tonight. She was already exposed enough just by walking through his door.
She didn't want her body to betray her into vulnerability when she had only just managed to step back into this space.
She pulled the duvet higher, swallowing down the frustration.
Careful not to wake Ayaan, she lifted the edge of the blanket and slipped quietly from the bed.
As she stood, her eyes caught a small crimson mark on the pale fitted sheet where she had been lying. A wave of exhaustion washed over her.
She pulled the duvet over the spot to hide it, promising herself she would deal with it when she came back, and slipped into the adjoining bathroom.
Aryav woke the moment the mattress shifted.
He didn't call out. He looked at the empty space beside Ayaan, then at the narrow line of light spilling from beneath the bathroom door.
Five minutes passed. Then ten.
He stayed where he was, staring at the ceiling, listening to the complete silence from inside.
At fifteen minutes, he threw back the covers and got up. He walked silently across the floor and stopped outside the wooden door, knocking twice.
"Aadhira?"
Silence.
He knocked again, softer. "Aadhira, are you okay?"
There was a long pause before her voice came through the thick wood, stripped of her usual armor. "I'm... I'm fine."
Aryav waited, his jaw tightening. He can hear her sobing even outside the door.
"It's just my period," she added, her voice dropping to a faint whisper.
The words sounded unbearably small. She hated how exposed they made her feel. There was nothing shameful about it, and yet saying it to him here, in the middle of the night, felt far more intimate than she was prepared for.
She waited for him to say something. Anything. He didn't. The silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable; it was respectful.
"Okay," he said quietly. "Wait."
Aadhira slid down until she was sitting on the cold tile against the door, pulling her knees tight against her chest.
She listened as his heavy footsteps moved away down the hall.
When Aryav returned a few minutes later, he knocked gently. "Aadhira. Open the door a little."
She reached up, unlocked the latch, and pushed the door open a few inches. Aryav stood outside, turning his face slightly to the side to give her privacy.
"Take this," he said, extending a brown paper bag through the narrow gap.
Aadhira reached out, her fingers brushing against his warm hand.
Inside, she found several different brands of sanitary products, her usual pain medication, a fresh change of soft lounge clothes.
Her lips parted. "You bought all of these?"
Aryav rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes fixed on the floorboards. "I didn't know which ones you needed."
Despite the aching cramps, a faint laugh escaped her. "You could have asked."
He looked back down at her through the gap, his expression intense and unguarded. "You were hurt. I wasn't sure you'd answer."
Aadhira held his gaze for a second before softly shutting the door to change.
She washed her face, changed into the clean clothes, and swallowed the pills with water, knowing the medicine would take time to touch the edges of the pain.
When she finally unlocked the door and stepped back into the bedroom, she froze.
The marked sheets were gone. Crisp, dark charcoal linens now covered the mattress, and the pillows had been rearranged around Ayaan, who remained completely undisturbed.
Aryav was standing near the door, folding the pale sheets into a neat bundle.
She looked from the bed to him. "You..You changed them?"
"They needed changing."
"I could have done it."
"You didn't have to."
"Why?" she asked softly.
Aryav looked up, his silhouette broad against the dim light. "Because I am here."
Aadhira didn't know what to say to that. He didn't wait for an answer, turning to carry the bundle out toward the laundry space.
Left alone, Aadhira walked over to the edge of the mattress and sat down. Something inside her shifted uncomfortably.
She knew how to respond to anger, distance, or coldness. She didn't know what to do with tenderness-especially when it arrived without being demanded, earned, or used as leverage.
A sudden cramp hit her lower belly, folding her in half. She pulled her knees together, wrapping her arms around her middle as hot tears leaked from her eyes.
She tried to wipe them away before he returned, but they were stubborn.
He walked back in carrying a tray-warm broth, hot chocolate, a glass of water, and a hot water bottle wrapped in a soft towel.
He set it down on the nightstand beside her.
"You should drink something," he said.
"You're very bossy."
"I've been told," he replied, the harshness in his face softening completely. He picked up the mug of hot chocolate and held it out to her.
"You remembered?" she asked, her voice thick.
"You always order it."
"That was a long time ago."
He set the mug back down and picked up the hot water bottle, handing it to her instead. "I don't forget things I want to remember."
She took the bottle, pressing the radiating warmth against her lower stomach. Within minutes, the sharpest edge of the spasm began to dull.
Seeing the dried tear tracks on her cheeks, Aryav lowered himself onto his knees right in front of her.
The movement caught her off guard. Not because he was kneeling-he had done that before.
Because he was doing it for her.Aryav didn't kneel for anyone.
He sat there, looking strangely helpless. His dark eyes moved over her face, taking in her tightly locked posture.