6
Chapter 6
The Man at the Door
The next morning, Anaya woke up to the sound of something crashing.
She sat up immediately.
"Kabir!"
A loud giggle answered her.
Anaya rushed out of her room only to find her son standing in the kitchen, looking extremely guilty.
A broken glass lay on the floor.
"Oops."
She closed her eyes.
"Please tell me you didn't touch the top shelf."
"I was trying to help."
"You were trying to reach the cookies."
Kabir considered that.
"Both can be true."
Anaya sighed and picked him up.
Some mornings, she genuinely wondered if she was raising a child or a tiny lawyer.
After cleaning the mess and getting him ready for school, she finally dropped him off and headed to work.
Unfortunately, the moment she arrived, she knew something was wrong.
Riya looked far too excited.
That was never a good sign.
"What happened?"
Riya grabbed her arm.
"You need to tell me everything."
Anaya frowned.
"About what?"
"You and Aarav Rathore."
Anaya nearly choked on her coffee.
"There is no 'me and Aarav Rathore.'"
"Then why is he here?"
Anaya blinked.
"What?"
Riya pointed toward the glass conference room.
Anaya turned.
And froze.
Aarav was sitting inside.
Looking completely out of place among the colorful office decorations.
His expensive suit probably cost more than their monthly office rent.
"What is he doing here?"
Riya grinned.
"That's what we're all wondering."
Before Anaya could respond, her boss appeared.
"Miss Mehra."
She already didn't like this.
"Yes?"
"Mr. Rathore wants to review the gala preparations personally."
Personally.
Of course.
Because apparently being one of the busiest businessmen in the country wasn't enough.
Now he had time to visit event planning offices.
Anaya took a deep breath and entered the conference room.
Aarav glanced up from the documents.
"You're late."
"It's nine o'clock."
"You were supposed to be here at eight fifty-five."
Anaya stared at him.
He looked completely serious.
She hated him.
Just a little.
Maybe a lot.
For the next two hours, they worked through schedules, vendors, and security arrangements.
Everything went smoothly until Aarav's phone rang.
The name on the screen made his expression darken.
He immediately stepped outside.
Anaya wasn't trying to listen.
She really wasn't.
But his voice carried through the glass.
"I told you not to contact me again."
A pause.
Then silence.
Then anger.
The kind of anger that made even nearby employees uncomfortable.
Whoever was on the other end clearly wasn't a friend.
By the time Aarav returned, his mood had completely changed.
His expression was colder.
Harder.
Dangerous.
Anaya remembered that look.
It belonged to the man the newspapers feared.
Not the one who laughed at Kabir's jokes.
---
That afternoon, Aarav sat in his office reviewing security reports.
His attention wasn't on the documents.
It was on a photograph.
A school photograph.
Kabir's.
Vikram had left it on his desk an hour ago.
Aarav hated how often he found himself looking at it.
The resemblance was becoming impossible to ignore.
Not because the child looked exactly like him.
He didn't.
But there were similarities.
Small ones.
The eyes.
The expressions.
The way he carried himself.
Aarav rubbed a hand over his face.
This was ridiculous.
He was building theories based on instinct.
Yet he couldn't stop.
A knock interrupted his thoughts.
"Come in."
Vikram entered.
"We found something."
Aarav straightened immediately.
"What?"
"The timeline."
His pulse quickened.
"What about it?"
Vikram placed another file on the desk.
"We confirmed the dates."
Aarav opened it.
And went completely still.
Because according to the records, Kabir had been born exactly when he should have.
If Anaya had been pregnant when she disappeared.
The room suddenly felt smaller.
Much smaller.
"Sir?"
Aarav looked away from the file.
His jaw tightened.
"Keep investigating."
"Still not enough?"
"No."
Because if he was wrong, accusing Anaya would destroy whatever fragile peace existed between them.
And if he was right...
The consequences would be even bigger.
---
That evening, Anaya and Kabir were enjoying dinner when the doorbell rang.
She frowned.
Nobody visited unexpectedly.
Especially not at night.
"Mumma, I'll open it."
"No."
Immediately no.
Kabir dramatically slumped back into his chair.
Anaya walked toward the door.
The moment she opened it, her heart stopped.
Aarav stood outside.
For a few seconds, neither spoke.
"What are you doing here?"
His gaze moved past her.
Into the apartment.
Toward the living room.
Toward Kabir.
Anaya immediately stepped into his line of sight.
Protective instincts taking over.
Aarav noticed.
Of course he noticed.
His expression became unreadable.
"I need to talk to you."
"At my apartment?"
"You weren't answering your phone."
She checked her pocket.
Three missed calls.
Oops.
Still.
Showing up at her home was crossing a line.
"You could've waited until tomorrow."
"I couldn't."
Something in his voice made her pause.
Not anger.
Not arrogance.
Urgency.
Before she could respond, small footsteps approached.
Kabir appeared beside her.
The second he saw Aarav, his face lit up.
"Uncle!"
Anaya closed her eyes.
Wonderful.
Just wonderful.
Kabir immediately grabbed Aarav's hand.
"You came!"
Aarav looked surprised.
Almost caught off guard.
"Apparently."
Kabir nodded seriously.
"Mumma never has guests."
"Thank you for sharing that information," Anaya muttered.
Kabir ignored her.
As usual.
Then he pulled Aarav toward the living room.
"Come see my drawings."
Anaya wanted to refuse.
She really did.
But somehow, within thirty seconds, Aarav Rathore was sitting in her apartment.
Looking through Kabir's drawings.
And smiling.
The sight felt strangely wrong.
And strangely right.
Which was exactly why it terrified her.
Because for the first time in five years, Aarav wasn't just entering her life again.
He was entering Kabir's too.
And neither of them knew the truth.
Not yet.
To be continued...