Chapter 21 Outside Her Door
Breakfast ended with more teasing than Ekansh Rathore had experienced in his entire life.
And strangely—
he didn't hate it.
He sat quietly at the dining table while Savita Mehra forced him to finish another paratha despite his protests.
"You're recovering," she scolded lightly. "No arguments."
"Aunty, he threatens ministers," Vivaan Khanna muttered dramatically. "But one paratha defeats him."
Ekansh ignored him.
Mostly because Aarohi was watching him take his medicines with that calm, expectant look again.
And somehow—
that mattered more than pride.
"You're not going to office today," Aarohi Mehra said firmly after checking his temperature again.
"I have a meeting."
"You have fever."
"It's lower now."
"That's not the point."
Ekansh calmly buttoned his watch anyway.
Aarohi narrowed her eyes.
"You're weak."
"I'm alive."
"Barely."
A faint smile touched his face again.
God.
He smiled too much around her now.
Dangerous development.
"I'll come back early," he said quietly.
Savita immediately supported Aarohi.
"No office."
"Aunty."
"No."
Ekansh looked between the two women silently.
Then surprisingly—
"Fine. Half day."
Vivaan almost applauded.
"This is revolutionary."
—
By afternoon, Ekansh was back inside the cold glass walls of Rathore Global.
And instantly—
the warmth disappeared.
No laughter.
No teasing.
No one asking whether he ate.
Only silence and power.
The conference room filled quickly with businessmen, board members, and political associates.
Fear followed him naturally as he entered.
As always.
Then another figure walked in.
Vikram Rathore.
The atmosphere sharpened instantly.
Ekansh sat at the head of the table expressionlessly.
The meeting continued smoothly for almost thirty minutes before Vikram finally spoke casually—
"Heard you almost died outside a girl's house."
Silence.
Several executives immediately looked terrified.
Vivaan internally prepared funeral arrangements again.
Ekansh didn't react immediately.
But anger rushed through him violently anyway.
Because the sentence felt mocking.
Humiliating.
Weak.
His father continued calmly,
"Emotion makes men careless."
The old rage stirred fast beneath his skin.
The same rage that usually ended with broken bones and blood.
But then—
A memory surfaced suddenly.
Aarohi's voice.
Breathe slowly.
Ekansh closed his eyes briefly.
One inhale.
Then another.
When he opened them again—
the rage remained.
But controlled.
Everyone in the room noticed instantly.
Vikram expected explosion.
Instead Ekansh leaned back calmly.
Then smiled faintly.
Cold.
Savage.
"You're right," he said softly.
Vikram's eyes narrowed slightly.
Ekansh continued,
"Imagine surviving assassination attempts, gang wars, politicians, police raids..."
A pause.
"And still being more emotionally functional than your father."
Dead silence.
One executive nearly stopped breathing.
Vivaan looked proud emotionally.
Vikram's face hardened instantly.
But Ekansh wasn't finished.
"At least when I love someone," he continued quietly, "I don't destroy them."
The room froze completely.
Vikram stood abruptly.
Humiliated.
Exposed.
And for the first time in years—
he had no response.
Without another word, he left mid-meeting.
The silence afterward felt historic.
Then one board member whispered shakily,
"...Should we continue?"
Ekansh calmly opened the next file.
"Yes."
And the meeting resumed.
—
Hours later.
Back-to-back meetings drained whatever energy remained in his already fever-weakened body.
By evening, his headache had become unbearable.
Still—
he worked.
Because stopping meant thinking.
And thinking meant missing her again.
His phone vibrated suddenly.
The moment he saw Aarohi's name—
his exhaustion eased instantly.
He answered immediately.
"You took your medicines?" she asked without greeting.
A faint smile touched his face automatically.
"Yes."
"Did you eat?"
"Eventually."
"That means no."
Silence.
Caught.
Aarohi sighed softly on the other side.
"Come for dinner."
The invitation settled warmly somewhere deep in his chest.
"Okay."
Just one word.
But softer than usual.
—
Dinner at the Mehra house felt strangely peaceful again.
Ekansh mostly stayed quiet while the family talked around him comfortably.
And for once—
silence didn't feel lonely.
It felt belonging.
Savita kept serving him food repeatedly despite his protests.
Rishabh exposed Aarohi's childhood stories enthusiastically.
"She once diagnosed our dog with depression because he ignored her for two days."
Aarohi looked horrified.
"I was nine!"
Vivaan nearly died laughing.
Ekansh simply sat there listening quietly.
Nodding occasionally.
Small smiles appearing every few minutes.
Watching Aarohi glare at her brother with fake outrage felt absurdly domestic.
And dangerous.
Because the more normal this became...
the less he wanted to leave.
After dinner, Aarohi naturally walked beside him upstairs toward her room.
And instinctively—
Ekansh followed.
Until her father's calm voice stopped both of them.
"Ekansh beta."
They turned.
Rajeev Mehra stood near the staircase looking serious but gentle.
"I know you both love each other."
Aarohi froze instantly.
Ekansh remained still.
Rajeev continued calmly,
"But before marriage, you won't stay in the same room."
Silence.
"Yesterday was different," he added softly. "You needed someone."
Savita nodded supportively beside him.
"But not every day, beta."
Ekansh's chest tightened unexpectedly.
Then immediately—
"We'll marry."
The answer came so fast everyone blinked.
Savita nearly smiled despite herself.
But Rajeev chuckled softly.
"It doesn't happen that quickly."
"It can."
Aarohi covered her face tiredly.
"Ekansh."
Savita stepped forward gently.
"For now, guest room."
A long silence followed.
Then finally—
"...Okay."
But something inside him still felt oddly heavy afterward.
—
2:32 AM
Ekansh still couldn't sleep.
The guest room felt wrong.
Too cold.
Too empty.
He turned repeatedly against the mattress with frustration growing slowly.
No Aarohi.
No calm breathing beside him.
No warmth.
His chest tightened restlessly.
Eventually exhaustion dragged him into shallow sleep.
And immediately—
nightmares returned.
White hospital lights.
Leather restraints.
Needles.
His father's cold voice.
Calm his anger.
Ekansh woke abruptly with a violent inhale.
Sweat covered his skin despite the fever chills.
His hands trembled badly.
Too much.
Too loud.
He needed—
Aarohi.
Before thinking fully, he left the guest room quietly and walked toward hers.
But halfway there—
Rajeev's earlier words returned.
Before marriage, not the same room.
Ekansh stopped outside her door silently.
Then slowly sat down against the wall instead.
Just close enough.
His fever had returned fully now.
Body shaking weakly from exhaustion and nightmare aftereffects.
But even sitting outside her room somehow felt calmer.
Eventually his eyes closed.
—
3:07 AM
Aarohi woke suddenly.
Restless.
Uneasy.
She frowned slightly in confusion before getting up for water.
The moment she opened her bedroom door—
she froze.
Ekansh sat asleep on the floor outside her room.
Head resting weakly against the wall.
Pale.
Shivering.
Her heart dropped instantly.
"Ekansh?"
His eyes fluttered open slowly.
Disoriented.
Feverish.
Then relief softened his expression immediately after seeing her.
Aarohi immediately knelt beside him.
"What are you doing here?!"
His voice came out weak and rough.
"Don't know."
The fever clearly worsened again.
Aarohi touched his forehead and cursed softly.
Burning.
"Come inside."
She helped him stand carefully.
His body leaned heavily against hers this time from exhaustion.
Once inside, she sat him on the bed quickly and prepared another antipyretic injection.
The second he saw the syringe, his breathing faltered slightly.
Trauma reflex.
Aarohi immediately moved closer.
"You okay?"
Ekansh looked at her through fever-heavy eyes.
Then meekly nodded once.
Trusting her completely.
That trust nearly hurt.
Aarohi injected the medicine gently.
He winced instantly.
And to her shock—
silent tears slipped from his eyes anyway.
Not because of pain.
Memory.
Fear.
Trauma still buried inside his body.
Her chest ached painfully.
Without another word, Aarohi pulled him gently into her arms.
Immediately Ekansh buried himself against her weakly.
Seeking warmth.
Safety.
Her fingers moved softly through his hair.
"It's okay," she whispered.
Slowly his trembling eased.
Then Aarohi carefully pulled the blanket over both of them.
Ekansh instinctively curled closer against her chest.
And finally—
for the second night in years—
the monster slept peacefully in someone's arms.