Chapter 30
Aditya
As the early morning sun filters through the curtains, I stir awake, her warmth still clinging to my skin, a reminder of the night we owned. A lazy smile tugs at my lips as I reach out, half-asleep, instinctively wanting to pull Sana closer… only to find the space beside me empty.
My eyes snap open and a sharp jolt of panic shoots through me. My heart thunders against my chest as I throw back the covers and spring to my feet. Where is she? Did she leave? Did she regret last night?
Fumbling into my jeans, I yank my shirt over my head before rushing downstairs, my breathing uneven.
The moment I reach downstairs and glance around, I skid to a stop when my gaze falls on her in my kitchen. She is standing by the window, staring blankly outside, lost in thought. Relief crashes over me, but it’s quickly followed by an ache, a need to know what’s running through her mind.
“You scared me... I thought you’d left,” I breathe out. She jolts, snapping around to meet my gaze.
“My ankle was hurting... I needed ice,” she mumbles, and my eyes catch the way her fingers clutch the edge of the counter. Her body is tense.
“You should have woken me up,” I say, closing the distance between us. God, I wanted to say so much more—that I hated waking up alone, that not having her in my arms made me feel incomplete, that I missed her the second I opened my eyes.
Before she can argue that she didn’t want to wake me and could manage on her own, I scoop her up, lifting her into my arms and placing her on the counter. She gasps, her hands gripping my shoulders.
“You shouldn’t be on your feet,” I murmur, my hands instinctively holding her hips, unwilling—unable—to let go.
She lets out a soft sigh. “I didn’t want to wake you… You looked so peaceful,” she murmurs. “And it was no hardship to get the ice from the kitchen on my own.”
Stubborn. Always so damn stubborn.
I shake my head, my grip on her tightening just a little. “I don’t care how peaceful I looked—I’d rather wake up to you than an empty bed,” I say, my voice low. “Next time, wake me up.”
She blinks at me before nodding silently. I exhale, my fingers gently brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. “Let me get you the ice.”
Turning away, I open the fridge and grab the ice pack.
Shutting the door, I make my way back to her.
Pulling out a chair, I sit down in front of her, my movements steady, controlled—though I can feel the weight of her gaze on me the entire time.
Without a word, I gently lift her leg. My hands are careful as I press the ice pack against her ankle, my thumb tracing slow, reassuring circles on her skin.
“Is it hurting?” I ask, glancing up at her.
“Not as much now,” she mutters, nibbling her full bottom lip.
I press the ice pack a little more firmly against the slight swelling, watching her closely, searching for any sign of discomfort.
She exhales softly, but there’s no wince, no flinch.
“Good,” I murmur, relieved. “But you still shouldn’t be walking around on it.”
Her lips press together, that familiar stubbornness flickering in her eyes.
I raise a brow. “Don’t even think about arguing, sweetheart.”
Her lips twitch, a ghost of a smile playing at the corners. “You worry too much.”
“And you don’t worry enough,” I huff, then add, “That’s why I’m taking charge and will make sure nothing ever happens to you.”
She doesn’t reply. Instead, she looks away, scanning the kitchen as if suddenly fascinated by the white cabinets. A soft pink flush creeps up her cheeks, and damn, it’s adorable.
I let the silence stretch for a beat, my fingers still cupping her ankle, but we have matters to discuss. And as much as I could sit here and just admire how utterly flustered she looks, we can’t ignore it forever.
Clearing my throat, I draw her attention back to me. “Sana,” I say, my voice softer now. “We should talk about last night.”
She swallows hard, still avoiding my gaze as she speaks. “Aditya, last night was—”
“Don’t,” I cut her off immediately, my voice sharper than I intended, making her head jerk toward me. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence by saying it was a mistake, because that will piss me off.”
“I wasn’t going to say that,” she murmurs, shaking her head. “I wanted it... I wanted you. But at the same time, it’s just... it made everything more complicated.”
I let out a sigh. “Why does it have to be complicated, Sana? We’re not doing anything wrong.”
She lets out a bitter laugh. “You know why, Aditya. Your parents…”
“My parents will come around,” I interject, my tone firm. “But this—us—this is our life. Our happiness is what matters, and they’ll see that in time.”
She bites her lip, uncertainty written over her face. “What if they don’t?”
I shake my head, unwilling to let doubt seep in. “Then it will be on them for having made the mistake of their lives—something they’ll have to live with. But no matter what, the way I love you won’t budge an inch.”
Her expression softens and something flickers in her eyes—fear, hope,? I can’t tell, not until she suddenly blurts out, “I love you too, Aditya. And I hate to see…”
But I don’t hear the rest. My brain short-circuits at the first part.
“You love me?” I whisper, my breath catching as I cup her face.
She blinks, startled, like she just realised what she said, but there’s no taking it back now. And I won’t let her.
“Tell me,” I urge, my voice low, firm.
“I love you,” she breathes. “Every single part of me does”
A slow, incredulous smile spreads across my face as I rest my forehead against hers.
“I’ve waited so long to hear those words.
” I lift my head slowly, my eyes locking with hers.
“You have no idea what they mean to me. I swear, I’ll spend every day proving just how much I love you, sweetheart,” I say as my lips claim hers, cutting off any hesitation she might have.
She gasps, her fingers curling into my shirt, holding on.
I deepen the kiss, sealing the words with the only proof she’ll ever need.
I pull back just enough to hold her gaze, my thumb gently brushing against her cheek. “We’ll worry about the rest as and when it comes. But one thing’s for sure—we’re not letting go of what we have.”
Sana nods, her eyes shimmering with emotion. “I need to get back home today,” she says softly.
My heart sinks, and I frown.
“No,” I argue, shaking my head stubbornly. “I don’t want to go back. God, can’t we just stay here? Forget the world, forget everything—just you and me.”
“Tempting,” She lets out a soft chuckle. “But like you just said, we’ll face whatever comes our way. And that means we need to go and face our parents.”
I groan, dropping my head against her shoulder. “Why do you always have to use my own words against me?”
She laughs, her fingers threading through my hair. “Because it’s the only way to win an argument with you.”
I lift my head, narrowing my eyes at her. “You are a devil.”
“And yet, you’re completely obsessed with me,” she smirks, tilting her head.
I scowl. “That’s the problem, sweetheart. You could drive me insane, and I’d still want you.”
She grins. “So… shall we get going?”
I exhale dramatically, trailing my fingers down her arm. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
Her grin widens. “Maybe a little.”
I sigh. “Fine. Let’s go face the storm.”
She smiles, her hands cupping my face. “It will go fine.” Sana shifts slightly on the counter, her fingers still resting lightly against my face as she murmurs, “Will you feed me before we leave? Because I’m starving.”
As if on cue, her stomach grumbles loudly.
I let out a laugh, pressing a quick kiss to her nose. “I’ll order us something right now.”
She shakes her head, her lips curving into a teasing smile. “Well, I always dreamed that my man would cook for me. But if you can’t… I guess I should start looking for someone who—”
I cut her off instantly, my arms caging her in as I lean close, my voice dropping into a possessive growl. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence.”
She smirks. “Why not?”
“Because,” I say, brushing my lips against her cheek, “you’ve already sealed your fate with me. And I can damn well cook for you.”
She bites her lip, trying to hold back a giggle. “This… I have to see.”
“Challenge accepted,” I step back, rolling up my sleeves as I move around the kitchen, pretending to know what I’m doing. Which—I don’t.
Opening the fridge, I grab eggs and bread, then start hunting for a pan. Sana watches me with open amusement, her legs swinging slightly over the counter. “You sure you don’t need help?”
“Absolutely not,” I say, determined not to tamper with my man card. “I’ve got this,” I announce. Except I don’t.
I crack an egg, and half the shell ends up in the pan.
“Damn it.” I try fishing the pieces out with a spoon, but the yolk is already spreading unevenly. Then I pop the bread in the toaster—easy enough, right? Except I get distracted trying to flip the now very questionable egg, and when I turn back, smoke is rising from the toaster.
Sana’s hand flies to her mouth, her eyes wide with barely contained laughter.
“Uh…” I pull out the toast. It’s burnt black.
With a dramatic sigh, I plate everything and slide it in front of her. “Bon appétit, princess.”
She stares at the half-cooked, slightly raw egg and the charcoal toast, then back at me.
Her lips twitch. And then she loses it.
Laughter spills out of her, her entire body shaking as she holds her stomach. “Oh my God, Aditya!” she gasps between giggles. “This is so much worse than I imagined!”
I cross my arms, pretending to be offended. “It’s not that bad.”
She wipes her eyes, still laughing. “Bad? This isn’t breakfast—it’s a public safety hazard!”
I place my hands on my heart. “Ouch, that’s just mean.”
Still giggling, she slides off the counter and wraps her arms around my neck. “But ten out of ten for the effort,” she says, pressing a soft kiss to my jaw.
I tighten my grip around her waist. “You do realise this means I’m never cooking again, right?”
She grins. “Yeah… we’ll work on that.”
Still wrapped in my arms, Sana tilts her head up at me. “So… can I take your offer and just order food instead?”
I huff out a laugh and press a kiss to her nose. “Smart choice,” I murmur, pulling out my phone and placing the order. Once it’s done, I place my phone on the counter and glance at her. “Till the food gets here, what do you want to do?”
She doesn’t even hesitate. “Movie.”
I grin. “Movie it is.”
Before she can take a step, I scoop her up into my arms. She squeals in surprise, clutching onto me as I walk into the living room and settle us onto the couch.
Reaching for the remote, I barely get my fingers on it before she snatches it away, holding it to her chest with a triumphant grin. “I’m choosing, Mister.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Is this torture Aditya day?”
“Something like that,” she smirks, scrolling through the options before stopping at a classic chick flick, her grin widening.
I let out a mock sigh but don’t argue. Instead, I wrap my arms around her, my hands absentmindedly tracing her skin as she settles against me, her head resting on my shoulder.
The movie starts playing, and even though I couldn’t care less about it, I find myself completely lost—not in the film, but in her.
There’s something about her that reaches deep into my soul, stirring something raw and undeniable. I don’t want bits and pieces of this. I want everything with her—no half-measures, no compromises. And I’ll be damned if I settle for anything less.