CHAPTER 65! FAMILY TIME
To all the readers who asked me for Shourya's story-it's finally here!
By the time Ayaan returned home from school, the house had already settled into its quiet afternoon rhythm. The broad front doors opened, followed immediately by the familiar, messy sound of little shoes being unceremoniously kicked off near the foyer entrance.
"Mumma!"
Aadhira looked up from the sofa in the living room, setting her book down as Ayaan came running toward her.
His schoolbag hung awkwardly off one shoulder, his dark hair was wildly tufted from playing during recess, and his school tie had already been tugged down around his collar.
"Mumma, Papa office se aa gaye?" he asked, breathless and eager.
(Mumma, has Papa returned from the office?)
Aadhira smiled softly at his enthusiasm. "Haan, aa gaye. Room mein hain."
(Yes.He's in the room.)
Ayaan's entire face lit up instantly. "Okay!" He turned on his heel, ready to bolt down the hallway. "Mumma! Papa ko bolunga amusement park chalte hain abhi!"
(Mumma! I'll tell Papa let's go to the amusement park right now!)
He had barely taken two fast strides before Aadhira's calm voice cut across the room, stopping him in his tracks. "Ayaan."
He paused and turned around slowly, his small face painting a dramatic picture of innocence.
Aadhira raised an eyebrow, gesturing toward him. "First, change your school uniform."
His shoulders slumped in total defeat. "Mumma..."
"Don't 'Mumma' me," she said smoothly, pointing a firm finger toward the staircase.
"Uniform change karo, shoes apni jagah rakho, school bag properly rakhna, water bottle empty karke kitchen mein dena, aur kuch kha lena."
(Change your uniform, put your shoes in their place, keep your school bag properly, empty your water bottle in the kitchen, and eat something.)
Ayaan stared at her as if she had just handed him a list of insurmountable mountain peaks to climb. "But Papa..."
"Papa isn't running away anywhere," she countered comfortably.
Ayaan let out an exaggerated, heavy sigh that shook his entire small frame. "Okay."
"And Ayaan?" Aadhira called out just as he reached the first step.
He froze again, looking back. "Homework?" he guessed, tilting his head toward the ceiling. "Baad mein."(Later.)
"Ayaan."
"Pehle thoda sa amusement park, please Mumma," he negotiated earnestly, holding up a single, solemn finger. "Then homework. Promise."
(First a little bit of the amusement park.)
Aadhira pressed her lips together to keep her smile from breaking through her authoritative mask. "Go."
Grouting out a triumphant grin, Ayaan took the stairs two at a time.
True to his word, after changing into comfortable clothes, putting his things away, and quickly eating a snack, Ayaan marched straight up to Aryav's room with absolute purpose.
Aryav was standing near the large window, scrolling through a file on his phone, when the door burst open without a knock.
"Papa!"
Aryav looked up from the screen, watching as his son walked straight toward him with complete confidence, stopping right in front of his knees.
"Papa, chalo." ( Let's go.)
Aryav lifted a single, dark eyebrow. "Where?"
"You forgot?" Ayaan accused, his hands resting on his hips. "You promised yesterday that we would go to the amusement park after your office!"
Aryav didn't hesitate or stall for a single second. "Okay."
Ayaan blinked, taking a small step back. He had clearly prepared himself for a full negotiation round and was thrown off by the instant surrender. "Really?"
Aryav locked his phone and tossed it onto the nightstand. "Really. Go get ready."
"Okay, Papa!" Ayaan shouted, turning around and sprinting out of the room before his father could change his mind.
For the next twenty minutes, the upstairs floor became a quiet hive of preparation. Ayaan was ready first-naturally.
He stood downstairs by the front entrance in his sneakers, bouncing impatiently from one foot to the other, checking the staircase every three seconds.
Upstairs, however, Aadhira was still standing in front of mirror, caught in deep deliberation.
Aryav wasn't merely waiting for her; he sat on the edge of the bed behind her, eyes locked onto her movement with absolute focus.
He had been silent for fifteen minutes-not out of impatience, but with the motionless, intense patience that defined everything he did.
There were several lipstick tubes lined up across the glass top. Aadhira picked one up, studied it, set it back down, picked up another, applied a tiny streak to the back of her wrist, made a dissatisfied face, and immediately reached for a third.
Aryav let out a low, quiet breath, his chest expanding slowly. "You're still deciding?"
Aadhira caught his dark eyes in the mirror reflection. "Yes."
"You've been deciding for fifteen minutes."
"Because I have options."
"You have one hundred seven," Aryav noted dryly, his gaze shifting briefly to the expansive collection organized along the side of the table before settling back on her silhouette.
"Exactly."
"They all look the same."
Aadhira turned around on her stool instantly, her eyes narrowing. "They're absolutely not the same."
Aryav didn't argue. Instead, he rose from the bed with deliberate slowness, stepping into her space until his shadow fell heavily over her chair.
Aadhira watched him through the mirror as his hand hovered over the collection. Without hesitation, his fingers reached down and picked up a specific dark-rose tube from the back row.
"That one," he said, holding it out to her.
Aadhira looked at the lipstick in his hand, then up at his face. "This one?"
"Yes."
She took it from him, uncapped it, studied the color against her skin, and shook her head slightly.
"It won't look good."
"It will."
"You don't know that."
"I do."
She gave him a deeply skeptical look, her lips twitching with amusement. "Since when did you become an expert in lipsticks?"
"I didn't."
"Then?"
Aryav's eyes fixed on her reflection through the glass, quiet precision melting into something far deeper and undeniably possessive.
"You wore this shade in Rishikesh on the first day."
Aadhira's fingers froze around the sleek gold casing. She stared at him through the mirror, her mind coming to a complete halt. "Rishikesh?"
"Yes."
"That was four months ago, Aryav."
"I know."
The skeptical edge in her expression softened into quiet surprise.
"You remember that?"
Something unreadable settled across Aryav's face. "Yes."
Aadhira slowly turned her body toward him, the lipstick resting loosely in her palm. "How do you remember these things?"
There was a quiet, soft curiosity in her voice now. It wasn't about the makeup anymore-it was the realization that he quietly cataloged every detail of her existence, keeping them locked away in his mind.
She narrowed her eyes playfully, trying to mask the warmth spreading in her chest. "And don't just say you remember. Tell me how."
A faint, barely perceptible curve touched Aryav's mouth. "I connected it with something special that happened that day."
Aadhira stared at him for a second before letting out a soft laugh.
"Something special?" She set the lipstick back down on the glass. "Aryav, we literally fought with a local gangsters on the first day. Then it rained so heavily that half our travel plans got completely ruined."
She looked up at him, her smile widening. "Is that what you consider special?"
"No," he said quietly.
His tone was so calm, so absolute, that her laughter died away into quiet stillness.
Aryav stepped closer, closing the last remaining space between them.
"Not that," he murmured.
Aadhira waited, her heart picking up an unexpected, rapid rhythm.
His eyes dropped briefly to her lips before rising back to meet her gaze.
"After the rain stopped," he said softly,
"you kissed me."
The air in the room thickened instantly. Aadhira's breath caught in her throat.
Aryav didn't shift his gaze; he stated it softly, like a memory he had carried untouched for four months through everything that had happened afterward.
"It was the first time you chose to come to me yourself."
Aadhira's lips parted slightly, but no words came out. The memory flooded back-the smell of wet earth, the freezing mountain air, the pulse of her own heart, and the moment she had reached up to pull him down into her kiss.
A sudden, fierce heat bloomed at the base of her neck, climbing swiftly until her cheeks burned flush.
She turned away from his gaze instantly, looking anywhere else in the room.
"Aryav..." she murmured, her voice carrying a soft warning that lacked even an ounce of authority.
He looked down at her, entirely unbothered by her flustered state. "What?"
"You really don't think before saying things."
"I thought before saying it."
"Than you are shameless," she muttered, her hands busying themselves needlessly with her jewelry box.
A small, dangerous satisfaction settled in Aryav's eyes.
Refusing to look back at him, Aadhira picked up the rose lipstick he had chosen, uncapped it with quick movements, and carefully applied it to her lips.
She checked her reflection in the mirror. It looked stunning against her skin.
She glanced at his reflection through the glass, her chin held high. "Happy?"
"Very," Aryav replied smoothly.
She placed the tube back on the vanity, put on her earrings, and stood up, doing her best to sound completely collected.
"Let's go. Ayaan must be down waiting for us."
They walked out of the bedroom and headed down the wide staircase together.
The moment Ayaan caught sight of them from the living room, his face lit up in absolute triumph.
"Finally!" he cheered, rushing to the foot of the stairs.
Aadhira laughed, the lingering heat in her cheeks softening into a bright, easy smile. "We're coming, impatient boy."
Ayaan immediately reached out, grabbing Aadhira's hand in his right and Aryav's large hand in his left, tugging them both toward the front doors. "Come on! Amusement park time!"