CHAPTER 66! WHO IS SAMEERA
Vote.
The ice-cream parlour was still humming with activity when they arrived.
Ayaan, having miraculously recovered from his brief terror on the giant wheel, had already forgotten that he'd sworn off high places forever.
He sat at a small outdoor table between his parents, completely absorbed in a melting tower of chocolate ice cream that was winning the race against his spoon.
A dark smudge marked his upper lip. Another had somehow found its way onto his cheek.
Aadhira reached over with a napkin, dabbing gently at his face. "Slow down, sweetheart."
Ayaan pulled back with a theatrical frown. "Mumma, I'm eating!"
"I can see that. You're eating like someone is going to snatch it away."
Ayaan looked down at his bowl with sudden suspicion, then looked up at his father. "Papa won't let them."
Aryav, who had been quietly taking a sip of his water, raised an eyebrow.
Aadhira offered a soft, amused smile. "You're very important around here."
"I'm beginning to realize that."
Ayaan grinned, completely untroubled, and went back to his feast.
Aadhira leaned back in her chair, watching her son. The night around them was vibrant and alive.
Children darted past waving glowing light-up swords, the faint melody of carnival music drifted on the warm breeze, and nearby, a group of teenagers burst into sudden, bright laughter.
For the first time in as long as she could remember, Aadhira wasn't bracing for the past. She wasn't dreading tomorrow.
She was simply sitting at a small plastic table, surrounded by the noise of an ordinary carnival, with her husband and their son.
Her family.
The word settled inside her with such unforced naturalness that it almost made her catch her breath.
Her gaze drifted casually across the patio. A couple at a nearby table had paused to take a picture-the mother holding a squirming toddler while the father leaned over them, grinning at the phone screen.
Aadhira watched them for a silent beat. Then she looked at Ayaan. Then at Aryav.
A quiet resolve formed in her chest. "Let's take a picture."
Aryav turned to her and reached into his pocket. "I'll take it."
Before he could pull out his phone, Aadhira reached across the table and caught his wrist. "No."
Aryav looked down at her fingers curled around his skin, then raised his eyes to hers. "No?"
"You're going to be in it."
For a second, the light teasing in his expression vanished.
Aadhira gave his wrist a gentle, decisive tug. "You're sitting with us in family photo."
Something softened around his eyes-a rare, unguarded crack in his usual composure. He didn't joke. He didn't offer a dry remark. He simply nodded. "Alright."
Aadhira stood up, scanning the patio until she spotted a teenage girl sitting at the next table with her friends. She walked over smoothly. "Excuse me?"
The girl looked up. "Yes?"
"Could you please take a family picture for us?"
"Oh, of course!" The girl took Aadhira's phone with a bright smile.
Aadhira returned to the table just as Aryav stood up and lifted Ayaan smoothly into his arms. Ayaan happily wrapped his small arms around his father's neck, still clutching his ice-cream spoon in one sticky fist.
"Don't drop that on Papa's shirt," Aadhira warned softly.
Ayaan looked deeply offended. "I won't!"
As Aadhira stepped into his side, Aryav's arm slid around her waist.
The effortless strength of his hold-firm, warm, and entirely steady-made her breath hitch.
The girl adjusted the phone camera. "Ready?"
"Ready," Aadhira said.
The flash went off once. Then twice.
"One more?" the girl called out.
Aadhira glanced back, a sudden spark of mischief lighting up her eyes. "Wait-just one second."
She stepped forward, leaned down, and whispered something quickly into the teenager's ear.
The girl's eyes widened, and she stifled a sudden giggle, nodding emphatically.
Aryav's eyes narrowed in immediate suspicion. "What did you just tell her?"
"Nothing," Aadhira said innocently, stepping back into his side and smoothing her top.
"Aadhira."
"Just look at the camera, Aryav."
"I know you well enough to be concerned," he murmured, though he didn't pull away.
Aadhira bit back a smile and looked at her son. "Okay, Ayaan. We're going to do a special pose. On three, okay?"
Ayaan nodded eagerly, loving the secret. "Okay!"
The girl raised the phone, her hands trembling slightly with suppressed laughter.
Aadhira took a breath. "One..."
Aryav glanced down at her, his brow furrowed.
"Two..."
Aadhira smiled, her pulse racing with a sudden, playful adrenaline.
"Three!"
On three, Ayaan planted a messy, ice-cream-scented kiss on Aryav's left cheek.
At the exact same instant, Aadhira stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips firmly against his right.
Snap.
Aryav froze.
Completely and utterly.
The sharp, calculated focus that usually defined him vanished, replaced by an expression of absolute, stunned disbelief. System failure.
Ayaan immediately broke into ringing, breathless giggles, hiding his face in Aryav's shoulder.
The teenage girl burst out laughing behind the phone, handing it back with a wide grin. "That was perfect!"
"Thank you so much," Aadhira said smoothly, taking the phone back as if she hadn't just completely disarmed her husband.
She turned toward the table, deliberately avoiding Aryav's gaze, though she could feel the heat of his eyes burning into the side of her face.
"Aadhira." His voice was low, laced with a mix of shock and quiet amusement.
She looked at Ayaan instead, tapping his nose. "Did you finish your ice cream, small man?"
"Mumma!" Ayaan squealed, kicking his legs happily in Aryav's arms. "We kissed Papa! As we plan in home."
A warmth bloomed across Aadhira's collarbone, creeping up to her cheeks. "Eat your dessert."
Aryav lowered Ayaan back onto his chair, but his dark gaze never left Aadhira's face.
"You planned that."
"I have no idea what you're referring to."
"You actually did it."
She took a dainty bite of her own dessert, fighting the smile threatening to break through. "Maybe I did."
His mouth twitched, his eyes narrowing playfully. "And You kissed me."
"On the cheek," she pointed out smoothly. "Alongside your son."
"And now you are trying hard to avoid that."
"Because I am enjoying my ice cream."
"You're hiding."
"Than let me hide."
"Not after this bold move, darling."
Finally, Aadhira turned her head, meeting his gaze directly. The intense, simmering warmth in his eyes made it impossible to maintain her innocent facade.
A genuine, radiant smile broke across her face.
Aryav's expression softened, the hard lines of his face melting into something profoundly tender. "I'm going to hold you to this, Mrs. Singhania."
Her heart did a slow, heavy flip. "I'd expect nothing less."
They stayed out for an informal dinner afterward at a quiet, open-air restaurant down the road from the fairgrounds.
Ayaan spent the entire meal delivering a dramatically altered play-by-play of the evening, recanting his earlier fear on the Ferris wheel with the bravado only a five-year-old could muster.
"I wasn't scared mumma," he declared, using a french fry to point at his mother.
Aadhira raised an eyebrow. "Is that why you buried your face in Papa's chest and yelled?"
"I was just giving him a hug," Ayaan insisted, puffing out his chest. "Because he was scared."
Aryav casually took a sip of his drink. "I remember I was fine."
"Papa!" Ayaan looked deeply betrayed.
Aryav's lips curved into a faint smirk. "I am a man of truth, Ayaan."
"You are supposed to be on my side!"
"I support you by holding you in my arms didn't I? ."
Ayaan processed this logic, weighed it carefully, and then nodded. "Fair point."
Aadhira laughed-a light, free sound that seemed to anchor the entire table.
By the time they finally paid the bill and walked out to the car, the excitement of the night had caught up with the little boy.
The moment Aryav buckled him into his car seat, Ayaan's eyelids drooped. Before they had even cleared the restaurant parking lot, his head had fallen back against the cushion, fast asleep.
Aadhira turned in her seat to look at him. His superhero shirt was rumpled, a faint smear of chocolate still lingered near his hairline, and his small fingers were curled into a loose fist over his chest.
Her chest filled with a quiet, aching love. "He's completely out."
Aryav shifted gears, his eyes on the rear-view mirror for a second before focusing on the road. "He won't stir until morning."
"He enjoys a lot tonight he is tired."
The car glided into the steady stream of late-night traffic, the engine humming quietly beneath them.
For a long while, a comfortable silence stretched between them.
Then, without taking his eyes off the road, Aryav reached across the center console.
His fingers brushed against hers before closing gently around her hand.
Aadhira looked down at their joined hands, then up at his profile. "Aryav... what are you doing?"
"Driving."
"You need both hands on the wheel."
"I need one," he corrected smoothly. Before she could protest, he shifted her hand slightly, placing her palm directly over the gear shift and resting his hand over hers, completely encapsulating it.
Aadhira's breath hitched. She knew she should draw back, set a boundary, or at least tease him about his driving habits. But she didn't move.
Instead, she let her fingers relax beneath his. Every time he shifted gears, the deliberate movement of his palm against hers sent a subtle wave of heat straight through her.
It was such a small, domestic gesture. Yet coming from him-a man who lived behind walls and control-it felt extraordinarily intimate.
Using her free hand, Aadhira pulled her phone out to look through the photos from the night.
There were bright, motion-blurred shots of the neon stalls. Photos of Ayaan triumphantly holding his Captain America figure. Photos of the crowds.
And then she reached the family pictures.