SUMAN'S POV

As days passed, I found herself growing closer to Amay, my heart stirring in unexpected ways.

I admire his gentle nature, the way he always seemed to care for my needs even before I could voice them, and how his humor would effortlessly brighten my day.

He had this knack for making me laugh with his witty remarks, catching me off guard and drawing me in.

But it was his gaze that affects me the most.

Every time his eyes lingered on me, they held a depth of unspoken emotion that sent a warm shiver through me.

I couldn’t meet his intense gaze for long and often looked away, my heart racing, while he seemed quietly amused by my reaction.

I began to notice all the little things about him, things that I hadn’t before.

I admired how mature and composed he was, especially as he worked alongside Ayush on the new project.

Despite knowing Ayush being my ex-fiancé, Amay never brought up his name or made me feel uncomfortable at home.

I knew it couldn’t be easy for him, yet he handled everything with grace, never letting it affect our home life.

It made me proud, realizing how lucky I was to have someone as understanding as Amay in my life.

And as for Ayush—I had long let go of whatever lingering feelings I might have had.

Now, my heart sought something new, someone else.

With a pang of guilt, I remembered how harshly I’d spoken to Amay on our wedding night, accusing him of marrying me with ill intentions.

I had lashed out, driven by my hurt and insecurities, yet Amay had listened to me silently, bearing my words without a hint of resentment.

Even after everything, he’d shown nothing but respect and patience, never once making me feel uncomfortable or unwelcome.

I realized I’d never apologized, a weight that settled heavily on my heart as I wondered how he could be so composed and kind.

SUMAN'S POV ENDS

Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock on the door.

She turned to see the househelp standing there.

"Choti Bahu, khaana lag gaya hai," she said gently.

("Choti Bahu, the food is served.")

Suman nodded. "Aap jaaiye, main aati hoon."

("You go ahead; I'll come.")

The househelp left, and Suman glanced at the clock.

It was already 8 p.m. "Ab tak toh Amay aa jaate hain… aaj kyun nahi aaye?" she wondered aloud.

("Amay would usually be home by now… why hasn’t he come today?")

She went downstairs, hoping to find him in the dining area, but he wasn’t there.

Tara noticed her hesitation and smiled. "Suman, come have dinner."

“Maa, Amay nahi aaye?” she asked, trying to keep her voice casual, but her eyes betrayed her concern.

("Mom, hasn’t Amay come?")

Tara’s smile widened knowingly. "Nahi, aaj usse late ho jaayega. Tum aao, khaana khaa lo."

("No, he'll be late today. Come, have dinner.")

Suman felt a pang of reluctance, realizing how much she didn’t want to eat without him.

She felt hesitant to admit this, but it felt wrong to sit at the table without him there.

She stood, uncertain, near the stairs, casting glances toward the door.

Anirudh looked at her, encouraging her to join them, but she hesitated.

"Maa, Papa, aap log kha lijiye… main thodi der baad kha lungi," she murmured.

("Mom, Dad, you all go ahead and eat... I'll have dinner a little later.")

Anirudh raised an eyebrow, looking confused, but Tara’s gaze softened in understanding.

She teased, "Kyun? Hamare saath khaane se digest nahi hoga?"

("Why? Won't you be able to digest if you eat with us?")

Suman’s cheeks flushed. "Nahi maa, aisa nahi hai… vo… vo… mujhe abhi bhook nahi hai."

("No, Mom, it’s not like that… it’s just… I’m not hungry right now.")

Tara laughed lightly, her humor comforting. "Theek hai, whenever you feel like eating, just have it."

("Alright, whenever you feel like eating, just go ahead.")

With a grateful smile, Suman nodded and turned back to go upstairs.

Reaching her room, she sighed, feeling a strange mixture of restlessness and warmth.

She settled on the bed, waiting, her mind drifting to thoughts of Amay, hoping he would come back soon.

In the Agrawal house, Tina was engrossed in her skincare routine, the soothing scents of her lotions filling the air.

The quiet ambiance of her room was suddenly shattered when the door swung open.

Startled, she turned to see Ayush stumbling in.

His hair was disheveled, his shirt untucked, and his tie was hanging loosely around his neck.

The blazer he usually wore was carelessly slung over one shoulder, and his eyes were slightly red.

Tina sighed, a familiar ache in her chest as she realized he was likely drunk, perhaps drowning his thoughts about Suman.

Ayush took slow, unsteady steps toward her, a side smile playing on his lips.

“Ayush… tum yeh kya kar rahe ho?” she asked, a mixture of concern and annoyance creeping into her voice.

("Ayush… what are you doing?")

He leaned against the door frame, his deep voice sending a shiver down her spine. “Tumhe kya lag raha hai, biwi?”

("What do you think, biwi?")

At the sound of “biwi,” her throat went dry.

Why was he calling her that when he didn’t even consider her his wife?

“Just sleep, Ayush. Tum hosh mein nahi ho,” she said firmly, trying to regain control of the situation.

("Just sleep, Ayush. You're not in your senses.")

He waved a hand dismissively, “Jaanta hoon. Kyunki jo maine tumse kehne wala hoon, vo shayad hosh mein rehkar nahi keh paata.”

("I know. Because what I’m about to tell you, I probably can't say it while being in my senses.")

Tina scoffed, crossing her arms defensively.

The gesture made her nightgown slip slightly, exposing more skin.

She noticed Ayush's gaze shift downward, and an unexpected heat rushed to her cheeks. “Tum divorce de rahe ho mujhe?” she asked, incredulously.

("Are you giving me a divorce?")

But he seemed oblivious to her words, his eyes darkening as they lingered on her cleavage.

She quickly composed herself, annoyed at how his presence was affecting her. “Just sleep, Ayush. Let me also sleep because main thak gayi hoon.”

("Just sleep, Ayush. Let me also sleep because I am tired.")

As she turned to leave, he grabbed her wrist, pulling her closer.

She collided with his chest, the blazer slipping to the floor.

The smell of alcohol clung to him, intoxicating her senses.

She wanted to pull away, but the heat radiating from him made her pulse quicken.

In this moment, he looked dangerously tempting.

With a gentle caress, Ayush’s finger glided down her cheek, sending goosebumps skittering across her skin.

But he didn’t stop there; his fingers trailed down her neck, over her midriff, inching toward her cleavage.

“Leave me!” she gasped, trying to push him away.

He merely stared into her eyes, refusing to release her.

“Kyun aaj kal main tumhare baare mein sochta hoon?” he whispered, his breath warm against her ear.

("Why do I think about you these days?")

Her eyes widened in surprise. “Mujhe toh suman ke baare mein sochna chahiye na… lekin pata nahi kyun, aaj kal sirf tumhara khayal aata hai. Na jaane kyun, tumhe har pal sochta hoon, tumhe yaad karta hoon.”

("I should be thinking about Suman, right? But I don’t know why, these days I can only think about you. I don’t know why I think of you every moment and remember you.")

The confession hung in the air between them, heavy with unspoken emotions. “I don’t want to think about you lekin nahi ho paa raha. Batao mujhe, kyun kar raha hoon main aisa?”

("I don’t want to think about you, but I can’t help it. Tell me, why am I doing this?")

His voice was a mix of frustration and vulnerability, a plea for answers to questions he had been grappling with for days.

Tina stood frozen, her heart racing as the reality of his words washed over her.

The man before her was a storm of confusion, passion, and regret, and in that moment, she felt herself drawn into his turmoil.

The grand hall of Shekhawat Mansion was eerily quiet, the kind of silence that wrapped around Suman, amplifying her worries.

She paced back and forth, glancing at the ornate clock that ticked away the minutes. 10:30 PM, and still no sign of Amay.

Anxiety bubbled within her; each passing second felt like an eternity.

She picked up her phone, her heart racing as she dialed his number, only to be met with the frustrating sound of "unreachable."

Her mind spiraled into a dark place filled with dreadful thoughts.

What if something happened to him?

What if he was in trouble?

Just then, the familiar sound of tires crunching against the gravel driveway broke through her tumultuous thoughts.

She dashed outside, her heart pounding, only to freeze in shock at the sight before her.

Amay’s driver was struggling to pull him out of the back seat.

Amay looked like a wounded soldier; his head was wrapped in a bandage, his arm was injured, and blood stained his shirt.

His hair was a disheveled mess, and he appeared utterly exhausted.

"Amay!" she gasped, rushing towards him. "Yeh kya hua aapko? Yeh chot kaise lagi?"

("Amay! What happened to you? How did you get this injury?")

Her voice trembled with concern as she reached him.

The driver managed to get Amay standing, and Amay glanced at the driver.

"Thank you. Aap jaa sakte hai," he said, his tone calm despite his condition.

("Thank you. You may go.")

The driver nodded and hurried away, leaving Suman alone with her worry.

"Nothing, Suman. Main thik hoon," Amay said, trying to reassure her, but Suman’s eyes filled with tears as she scanned his wounds.

("Nothing, Suman. I am fine.")

"Itni chot lagi hai aur aap phir bhi keh rahe hai ki aap thik hai? Kaise hua yeh sab? Aur muhje phone kyun nahi kiya? Aapko pata hai main kab se aapka intezaar kar rahi hoon? Aapko kitne phone lagaye, lekin ek bhi nahi laga. Main kitna pareshaan ho gayi aur aap iss halat mein vaapis aaye hai!" She bombarded him with questions, her voice rising in distress.

("You have such a big injury, and you are still saying that you are fine? How did all this happen? And why didn't you call me? Do you know how long I have been waiting for you? I called you so many times, but not even one call went through. I was so worried, and you returned in this condition!")

Amay stood there with a soft smile on his face, absorbing the torrent of concern and fear that washed over her.

It was a sight that filled him with unexpected joy; she looked so beautiful, so fiery in her worry, and in that moment, he felt like she was completely his.

Suddenly, in a fit of frustration, Suman slapped his injured arm lightly, and he winced in pain.

"Ouch…!" he exclaimed.

"Main yaha itna preshaan ho rahi hoon aur aap smile kar rahe hai?" she said, exasperated.

("I am here so worried, and you are smiling?")

"Muhje dard hua!" he teased, a hint of mischief in his tone.

("I am in pain!")

Her eyes widened in concern. "I am so sorry! Kaha dard ho raha hai? Rukiye, main doctor—"

("I am so sorry! Where is it hurting? Wait, I'll call the doctor—")

Her words were interrupted as he placed his index finger gently on her lips. "Shhh, relax, Sumi. Saans toh lelo," he said in a husky whisper, making her heart skip a beat as he called her by the nickname.

("Shhh, relax, Sumi. Just take a breath.")

They shared a moment, their gazes locked, and Suman, with a tremor in her voice, asked, "Aap pakka thik hai na?"

("Are you really okay?")

He smiled, warmth radiating from him. "Main thik hoon. Bas chota sa accident ho gaya tha."

("I'm fine. Just had a small accident.")

Suman cupped his cheek with her soft hand, rubbing her thumb over his skin, making him blush.

She held his hand leading him toward the living room.

She made him sit on the sofa and said, "Aap yahi baithiye. Main khaana lagati hoon."

("Please sit here. I will get the food ready.")

Amay started to protest, "Sumi, iski koi—" but his words were silenced by her delicate finger on his lips again.

("Sumi, this is nothing—")

He was too shocked to react, completely captivated by the gesture.

"Shhh," she said playfully. "You need to eat, warna main maa ko bata dungi."

("Shhhh, You need to eat, otherwise I'll tell Mom.")

The threat worked wonders; Amay was known to be terrified of his mother. "Okay, fine. But please, maa ko kuch mat batana," he relented.

("Okay, fine. But please, don’t tell Mom anything.")

Suman beamed at him.

"Good boy," she teased, ruffling his hair as she headed to reheat the food.

Amay placed a hand on his heart, feeling it race wildly in his chest. "Well, I’d rather be your good daddy," he smirked, feeling a rush of adrenaline at the banter.

In the dimly lit room, Tina and Ayush stood close together, their bodies almost touching, as if drawn by an invisible force.

The air was thick with sexual tension, each second stretching into eternity as their eyes locked, searching for unspoken answers to questions swirling in their minds.

Unbeknownst to them, their breaths mingled, creating a warm, intimate bubble that enveloped them both.

Ayush's gaze drifted down to Tina's bare arms, and he reached out, his fingers grazing her soft skin.

The touch sent shivers down her spine, igniting a flame of desire that made her heart race.

She instinctively tried to pull away, but Ayush was resolute, keeping her close.

"What do you want from me?" Tina finally broke the silence, her voice a whisper tinged with both apprehension and curiosity.

His fingers traced delicate patterns on her navel, stirring butterflies in her stomach as she felt herself teetering on the edge of surrender.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked, his voice low and husky.

Tina's breath caught in her throat. "Ayush, you're drunk? Please don’t give me any hopes, because I can’t handle your rejection."

A tear slipped from her eye, reflecting her vulnerability.

Instantly, Ayush reached up to wipe the tear away with his thumb, his expression softening. "Has anyone ever told you that your eyes are beautiful, Tina?"

"You’re the first," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper, and he felt a surge of pride swell within him.

"My father never liked my eyes," she continued, sadness creeping into her tone. "They remind him of my mother."

Ayush's heart ached at her words.

Without thinking, he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek.

"You’re changing my perspective about you," he murmured, sincerity lacing his words.

Tina chuckled lightly, a spark of warmth returning to her gaze. "Why? Do I not seem like the arrogant, spoiled brat, you thought I was?"

"No," Ayush said, his tone earnest. "You’re starting to feel like… mine."

The comment elicited a bright smile from her, one that lit up the room and melted away the tension. "Let’s sleep, Ayush."

"I want to kiss you," he admitted, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice.

"You’ll regret it in the morning," she replied, though her heart raced at his words. "So let’s just sleep."

Ayush opened his mouth to argue that he wouldn’t regret it, but the words faltered and died in his throat.

He nodded slowly, the unfulfilled longing hanging heavily between them.

They both lay back on the bed, the silence enveloping them as the tension slowly dissipated, replaced by a comforting warmth.

Soon, Ayush drifted into a deep slumber, the weight of the day melting away.

As always, Tina stayed awake, her eyes lovingly fixed on his peaceful face.

A smile crept onto her lips as she closed her eyes, replaying the beautiful moment they had shared, cherishing the connection that felt stronger than ever before.

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