CHAPTER 65! FAMILY TIME #3
Aryav took a breath, flicked his wrist, and let the fifth ring fly. It arced smoothly through the air and landed with a crisp snap, perfectly around the base of the Captain America figure.
Ayaan froze. He stared at the toy as if he couldn't quite believe it was really his. Then he looked up at Aryav.
"Papa. You did it."
Aryav smiled gently down at him. "I told you I'd try."
With a loud gasp, Ayaan threw his arms around Aryav's legs.
"You're the best, Papa!"
Aadhira watched the two of them, a soft, affectionate smile warming her face.
Walking up beside Aryav, she leaned in close, her breath warm against his ear. "I want something too. Will you win a game for me too?"
Aryav tilted his head toward her. "And what do I get in return?"
She tilted her chin up, emboldened by the fact that he'd just missed four times for Ayaan. "Maybe a kiss," she whispered playfully.
"But there's a catch. You have to land at least two rings on the same braslet."
She could barely contain her amusement. It had taken him all five attempts and a generous dose of luck just to land one ring for Ayaan.
The odds of him landing two rings on a tiny, flat box of braslet were practically zero.
Aryav looked at her for a silent second, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. "Fine."
Before reaching for the rings, he glanced over his shoulder and signaled to one of the discreetly placed bodyguards standing a few paces back.
"Take Ayaan to get some ice cream. We'll join you in a minute."
The guard nodded respectfully and stepped forward. "Yes sir. Young master. Please come This way"
As Ayaan ran off happily toward the ice cream parlor, Aadhira crossed her arms, teasing him softly. "Sending him away? What, scared he's going to watch his father lose?"
Aryav's easy smile vanished. He paid the vendor, picked up a fresh set of five plastic rings, and turned back to face her.
"I'm just scared he'll see what his father really is."
He raised his hand.
The first ring left his fingers. It landed with a soft click directly over the braslet box.
Aadhira's teasing smile faltered.
The second ring followed, settling neatly over the first. Then the third. The fourth.
By then, Aadhira wasn't smiling anymore-she wasn't even breathing properly.
Aryav still hadn't looked at the board. His eyes remained locked on hers: dark, steady, and unblinking.
The fifth ring slipped from his fingers and landed cleanly on the stack.
Silence settled over the stall. All five rings rested around the same braslet box.
"How could you do this? You weren't even looking," Aadhira whispered, her breath catching in her chest.
Aryav glanced at her softly. "I looked at it before."
"That's not what I meant."
He leaned toward her, his mouth barely brushing the shell of her ear, his voice dropping into a quiet murmur. "Careful what you challenge me to, Mrs. Singhania. I was trained to hit a target before I was old enough to understand what I was being trained for."
A sudden, quiet realization washed over her.
She looked at his hands-the same hands that had helped Ayaan grip a plastic Captain America figure, the same hands that had wrapped around her waist when she was afraid.
Hands trained for cold, absolute precision long before they had ever learned tenderness. The contradiction unsettled her more than either version of him ever could.
She had forgotten. Not completely-never completely. She had simply allowed herself to forget what existed beneath the man who let Ayaan climb into his lap, argued over rides, and missed carnival games.
It wasn't a performance. That was what truly hit her. Aryav hadn't pretended to be ordinary with Ayaan. He had chosen to be.
The frightening thing wasn't that Aryav could still be that man; it was that he had never stopped being him.
He simply chose, every day, not to be that man with them. He hadn't become harmless. He had simply become gentle.
"If you could do that so easily..." Aadhira stammered softly, looking up at him, "why put Ayaan through that?"
Aryav's gaze softened, the quiet intensity in his eyes receding as he accepted the wrapped prize from the bewildered shopkeeper.
"Because he's a child," he said quietly, handing her the chocolate and the slender bracelet beside it. "He deserves to be a child before he has to learn what his father really is. I want him to have ordinary memories with an ordinary father."
He placed the bracelet directly into her palm and folded her fingers over it.
"The bracelet is yours," he murmured, his thumb tracing the skin of her wrist.
His gaze dropped briefly to her lips. "And the kiss?"
Aadhira swallowed hard, her pulse racing. "You really aren't going to let that go?"
A slow, familiar smile curved across his mouth as he leaned closer. "Definitely not. You made the wager, Mrs. Singhania. I'll collect."