CHAPTER 43
ARYAN
I don’t tell her where we’re going. Partly because I know she’ll overthink it. Mostly because I like the way her brows pull together in that tiny frown when she’s trying to figure something out and failing.
She’s been side-eyeing me for the last ten minutes. “You’re being suspiciously quiet,” I say, glancing at her.
“I’m observing,” she replies without looking at me.
“Observing what?”
“You.”
I grin. “And what have you concluded so far?”
“That you’re planning something unnecessary.”
“That hurts.” He feigns hurt.
“It shouldn’t. You do unnecessary things all the time.”
“Excuse me,” I scoff, “this is effort.”
She's quiet for a moment and I wonder what's going on in her pretty head. “Thank you,” She murmurs so softly, I almost think I imagined it, “I am sorry…” She looks at me, guilt flashing in her eyes, “I am rude to you when all you do is do things for me that…” She shakes her head as if she can’t believe she’s saying all this, “only makes my heart beat faster.”
For a second, I don’t respond. Not because I don’t have something to say. But because I’m trying to hold onto the moment exactly as it is.
Her voice wasn’t sharp. Wasn’t defensive. There was no edge to it. Just…honesty. And Ishika doesn’t give that easily.
I keep my eyes on the road, but my grip on the steering wheel tightens just slightly. Not enough for her to notice. Just enough for me to feel it.
“You don’t have to apologize for protecting yourself,” I say finally, my voice quieter than it was a minute ago.
She doesn’t respond immediately. I can feel her looking at me now, properly this time—not the guarded glances she throws when she thinks I’m not paying attention, but something steadier.
“That’s not what I’m doing all the time,” she says after a moment.
“No,” I agree softly. “Not all the time.”
There’s a pause, “I feel…” Her voice breaks a bit and I glance at her quickly, “I feel I have become a very harsh version of myself…having to always only depend on myself has made me so…unbearable I feel and I am sorry you have to deal with it.”
She shifts slightly in her seat, tucking one leg beneath her, turning toward me in a way that tells me she’s not done talking. That alone is enough to pull my attention. Because Ishika chose to stay in a conversation like this instead of shutting it down? That’s not small.
“How?” she asks.
I glance at her briefly. “How what?”
“How do you…” she trails off, searching for the words, and I slow the car slightly without thinking, like giving her more time will somehow help her find them.
“How do you still want to be around me?” she finishes, more firmly this time. “After all of this.”
I don’t interrupt. I let her say it the way she needs to. “After the way I talk to you,” she continues, her fingers twisting together in her lap now, restless in a way that doesn’t match her usual stillness. “After how I pushed you away. After I—”
She stops herself. Her jaw tightens slightly.
“Why?” she asks again, quieter now. “Why do you want this?”
There it is. Not a deflection. Not a sharp remark meant to create distance. A real question.
And underneath it—Something softer. Something that feels a lot like fear.
And I hate it. I hate how completely she survives in fear mode, how it’s the emotion that rides all her decisions, all her opinions, all of her.
I absolutely hate this world for leaving her clueless about her parents and that stupid boyfriend of hers, I hate him more…
I am grateful to him for leaving her in the most selfish way because I would have never stood a chance otherwise but the damage it did to her… is unfair.
I pull the car to the side of the road before answering.
Because this isn’t something I want to say while half my attention is somewhere else.
The engine hums softly as I shift into park.
For a second, neither of us moves. Then I turn toward her fully.
She’s already looking at me. There’s no challenge in her eyes.
Just…uncertainty. And something that looks dangerously close to hope.
I lean back slightly in my seat, letting out a slow breath before I speak. “Because I see you.”
The words come out simple. Uncomplicated.
Her brows pull together slightly, like she doesn’t understand what that means.
So I continue. “I see the part of you that walks into a room and already knows how to hold everything together,” I say, my voice steady.
“The part that doesn’t wait for anyone else to fix things.
The part that’s been doing it alone for so long, it doesn’t even feel strange anymore. ”
She goes still. “I see the way you act like you don’t need anything,” I add, softer now, “even when you clearly do.”
Her throat moves slightly as she swallows.
“And I see the moments you don’t think anyone’s looking,” I continue.
“When you forget to eat because you’re too focused.
When you get lost in your work. When you stop pacing for a second and just…
stand there like you’re carrying more than you should have to. ”
Her gaze drops briefly to her hands. I let the silence sit for a second before I speak again. “You think you’re being mean to me,” I say quietly. “But most of the time, you’re just…scared.”
Her head snaps up at that. She looks so startled. “And I get it,” I add quickly, not giving her time to shut down. “I really do.”
She searches my face, like she’s trying to figure out if I’m simplifying her. If I’m misunderstanding. I don’t look away. “I don’t take it personally,” I say. “Not the way you think I do.”
“Then how do you take it?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper now.
I hold her gaze. “As proof that you’re still here.” Her breath catches slightly. “You could have walked away a dozen times by now,” I continue. “You didn’t.”
Her lips part like she wants to argue that. She doesn’t. “You talk to me,” I say. “You fight me. You push back. You don’t ignore me.”
A small, almost helpless huff of breath leaves her. “That’s not exactly a compliment.”
“It is to me.” She blinks. Confused. I lean forward slightly, resting my forearms on the steering wheel, still turned toward her. “Indifference is easy, Sunshine,” I say gently. “If you didn’t feel anything, you wouldn’t bother reacting at all.”
Her fingers are still in her lap. Her shoulders soften just a fraction. “And the way you look at me sometimes,” I add, quieter now, more careful, “doesn’t match the way you talk to me.”
Her eyes flicker. She looks away for half a second before forcing herself to meet my gaze again. “I do…like you,” she murmurs and that makes me smile, “I just don’t know…I feel like if I say it out loud…I may jinx it and you may…vanish.”
“Baby,” I cup her cheeks, pressing my lips gently on her forehead, “You don’t have to say it if you feel that way, I know…you like me.” I chuckle, “Although occasional confessions may help.” I pout and it's her turn to chuckle.
“Why me?” She asks in a small voice and I sit with that question for a second. Not because I don’t have an answer. But because I want to give her the right one.
“You want the honest version?” I ask. She nods. “Because you don’t make it easy.”
Her brows knit together slightly. “That’s supposed to convince me?”
I shake my head, a small smile touching my mouth. “No,” I say. “It’s just the truth.”
I let that settle before I continue. “You don’t try to impress me,” I say. “You don’t say what you think I want to hear. You don’t act like I’m something special just because I have money or a title.”
Her lips press together, like she’s trying not to react to that.
“You treat me like a person,” I add. “A very irritating person, but still.” That earns me the faintest flicker of something at the corner of her mouth.
“I have always felt so lonely too…because anytime I tried to build a genuine connection with someone, it turned out them being interested in my…power and so…I have craved this for too long too.”
Her hands come up to mine as she squeezes them, “And more than that,” I continue, my voice dropping slightly, “you make me want to show up better.”
She blinks. “That doesn’t happen easily,” I admit. “Not for me.”
Her gaze sharpens slightly, curious now. “When I’m with you, I notice things I usually ignore,” I say. “Like whether someone’s eaten. Or how long they’ve been working. Or when they go quiet for too long.”
Her breath slows. “I don’t feel like I have to perform around you,” I add. “I just…am.” The words hang between us. “And I like who I am when I’m around you,” I finish quietly.
She looks at me like she doesn’t know what to do with that. Like it’s too much and not enough at the same time. “And you don’t…get tired?” she asks after a moment. “Of this?”
Her hand lifts slightly between us, gesturing vaguely. “Of me being like this?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Not even a little?”
I consider that. Then answer honestly. “I get frustrated sometimes,” I admit. “Not because of who you are. But because I can see how much you hold back.” Her eyes flicker. “But tired?” I continue, softer now. “No.”
“Why?”
Because you matter. The answer is simple. But I don’t say it like that.
“Because you’re worth the effort.” Her breath stutters. Just slightly.
Enough for me to notice. “I’m not trying to fix you,” I add gently. “Or change you. Or rush you into something you’re not ready for.”
Her shoulders drop a fraction more. “I just…” I pause, choosing my words carefully, “want to be someone you don’t have to fight all the time.”
Silence fills the car again. But it feels different now.
Not tense. Not guarded. Just…quiet in a way that lets things settle.
She looks down at her hands again. Then back at me.
I watch as she shifts in her seat and sits on her knees as she reaches for my face, my heart skips a beat at the way she’s looking at me, so gently, I have rarely seen her like that, maybe never.
She cups my face, her hands so tiny, and she presses her lips against mine as she murmurs, “I promise…I will try my best to open up to you,” her breath falls on my lips and I smile because that’s more than enough for me, “I am not sure if I will succeed but thank you…for being so patient with me.”
I crash my mouth to hers as I kiss her desperately, almost as if I am trying to show her all my feelings, as if I want to drown in her which I do. “For the matter of fact, I like mean you…” I smile against her lips and she returns it.
“So tell me where are you taking me,” she smirks and I chuckle doing a happy dance inside me because this feels like a breakthrough and I haven’t been so happy ever.
“I am taking you bowling, Sunshine.” I wink as I press my forehead against hers.
Her face falls a bit, “I have never…” She takes a deep breath, “I will suck at it…and I don’t like losing.”
I beam, “I will teach you…” I caress her cheek, “I won’t like it if you lose either…” I smirk, “It will be catastrophical for the world to see loser Ishika because something tells me you will be a pathetic loser and take your revenge.” She swats my bicep and snickers which feels like a win.