Chapter 26 Devotion
The day Aarohi Mehra got discharged from the hospital, the entire staff collectively realized one thing:
Ekansh Rathore was no longer functioning as a mafia lord.
He was functioning as an overprotective husband.
Dangerously overprotective.
"Boss," Vivaan Khanna whispered while watching Ekansh glare at a wheelchair suspiciously, "it's transportation, not an assassination attempt."
"It looks unstable."
"It has four wheels."
Ekansh remained unconvinced.
Meanwhile Aarohi sat nearby trying not to laugh while nurses finished discharge paperwork.
One nurse approached carefully with medicines.
Before she could explain anything
Ekansh took the entire file from her.
"I'll handle it."
The nurse blinked.
"Sir, I need to explain dosage"
"I already know."
And unfortunately
he actually did.
Every medicine timing.
Every injection schedule.
Every dressing procedure.
Every warning sign.
The nurse slowly looked toward Aarohi.
"...He memorized everything?"
Aarohi sighed softly.
"He threatened three doctors into giving detailed explanations."
"I did not threaten them."
"You said and I quote," Rishabh interrupted dryly from behind, "'if anything happens to my wife, I'll turn this hospital into a parking lot.'"
Ekansh looked completely calm.
"That was concern."
"That was terrorism."
The drive home somehow became another emotional battle.
Because the second Aarohi tried walking toward the car herself
Ekansh immediately picked her up bridal style.
"Ekansh!"
"You're injured."
"I can walk."
"You got shot."
"That was days ago!"
"You still got shot."
Fair point.
Unfortunately.
By the time they reached the Rathore mansion, security guards looked visibly shocked seeing their terrifying boss carrying his wife like something precious and breakable.
Nobody dared react openly.
But internally?
Historic moment.
Inside the mansion, Aarohi looked around quietly.
The house was massive.
Luxurious.
Cold.
At least normally.
But today
Fresh flowers decorated the halls softly.
Warm lights glowed instead of the usual dim atmosphere.
And near the staircase
a small temple had been prepared quietly with a diya burning gently.
Aarohi looked surprised.
"You did this?"
Ekansh looked away slightly.
"You like warm spaces."
The simplicity of the answer touched her deeply.
Because he noticed things.
Tiny things.
The way she preferred softer lights.
The way she disliked silence during meals.
The way she liked fresh flowers near windows.
Nobody had ever adapted a home for him before.
But he was rebuilding his entire world around her comfort naturally.
Ekansh carefully placed her on the bed upstairs.
Then instantly adjusted her pillows.
Blanket.
Water.
Medicines.
Phone.
Remote.
Everything within reach.
Aarohi stared at him.
"You're behaving like I'm dying."
His expression darkened immediately.
"Don't joke about that."
Instant regret crossed her face.
Because yes
that wound was still fresh.
Aarohi immediately held his hand softly.
"I'm here."
The tension left his shoulders slowly.
Then quietly
"Good."
The next few days transformed Ekansh completely.
The underworld king who once terrified politicians now spent mornings checking Aarohi's temperature with intense concentration.
"You have 99 fever."
"That's barely fever."
"It exists."
"You sound personally offended."
"I am."
Every medicine time became military-level serious.
"Aarohi."
"I know."
"You missed your antibiotic by seven minutes."
She blinked.
"You counted?"
"Yes."
"Psychotic."
"Alive."
He fed her himself despite constant protests.
"Aarohi, eat."
"I can hold a spoon."
"You're weak."
"I'm literally a doctor."
"You're my patient currently."
"Excuse me?"
"Temporary promotion."
Even bandage changes became emotional somehow.
The first time Ekansh carefully removed the dressing from her shoulder wound, his hands visibly trembled.
Not from disgust.
From guilt.
Aarohi noticed immediately.
"Ekansh."
His jaw tightened while cleaning the wound gently.
"He could've killed you."
"Because of me."
There it was again.
That guilt still haunting him.
Aarohi slowly touched his wrist.
"It was not your fault."
His eyes lifted toward hers silently.
"I brought you into my world."
"You also loved me in that world."
Silence.
Then quietly
"I'd still burn that world down if it hurt you again."
The terrifying honesty of that statement made her chest ache softly.
Because he meant it completely.
One evening Aarohi finally decided she was strong enough to walk downstairs alone.
Big mistake.
The moment her feet touched the floor
Ekansh appeared from nowhere.
"Aarohi."
She nearly jumped.
"WHY do you move like a ghost?!"
"You're walking."
"Yes?"
"Without me."
"...I'm going downstairs, not crossing the Himalayas."
Still
he walked beside her the entire time with one arm around her protectively.
Like she might collapse any second.
Halfway downstairs, Aarohi stopped and looked at him tiredly.
"You know I survived medical school, right?"
"You also survived gunshots. Barely."
"That was unnecessary."
"Factually accurate."
Downstairs, Vivaan witnessed the entire interaction while eating chips peacefully.
Then announced dramatically
"Boss has become a devotional husband."
Ekansh ignored him while helping Aarohi sit carefully on the sofa.
Vivaan continued anyway.
"He watches her sleep."
Aarohi blinked slowly.
"You WHAT?"
Ekansh looked mildly defensive now.
"To check breathing."
Vivaan nearly choked laughing.
"He threatened one cook because soup was too hot."
"It could burn her."
"He checks her blanket at night!"
"She gets cold."
Aarohi stared at her husband speechlessly while Ekansh looked entirely serious.
And somehow
that made it worse.
Vivaan wiped fake tears dramatically.
"This is true love. Psychotic but true."
Ekansh finally glared at him.
"You're unemployed if you continue."
"Worth it."
Later that night, rain tapped softly against the bedroom windows again.
Aarohi lay comfortably against the pillows while Ekansh changed her bandage carefully under warm lamp light.
His movements stayed incredibly gentle despite his rough hands.
Almost reverent.
After finishing, he kissed the healing skin near the wound softly.
Like apologizing silently to every scar she carried because of him.
Aarohi's heart melted instantly.
"You know," she whispered softly, "you're actually very caring."
Ekansh looked up briefly.
"Only for you."
The answer came too naturally.
Too honestly.
Aarohi smiled faintly.
Then suddenly
"Come here."
Ekansh immediately moved beside her on the bed.
The second he settled down, Aarohi curled against his chest carefully.
And almost instantly
his arms wrapped around her protectively.
Automatic.
Instinctive.
His chin rested lightly over her hair.
"You scared me," he admitted quietly into the silence.
Aarohi looked up softly.
"I came back."
"Yes."
His fingers slowly intertwined with hers beneath the blanket.
"But now I'm never letting anything happen to you again."
The promise in his voice sounded terrifyingly absolute.
And somehow
safe at the same time.
Because after surviving darkness his entire life, Ekansh Rathore had finally found one thing worth protecting more fiercely than power itself.
His wife.