Page 49 of Married in Vengeance

The room was freezing, the blackout blinds drawn tight and the only sound in the room, the low hum of the air conditioner.

He sat down in a chair beside her bed reaching to place the back of his palm against her forehead. Aadhya reared back, avoiding the simple contact.

“I don’t have fever,” she muttered, not meeting his eyes.

Ram dropped his hand, his gaze on her downbent head. Aadhya kept typing out something on her phone not bothering to acknowledge his presence.

“Everything okay at work?”

Her head snapped up, eyes blazing. “Why do you care?”

Ram opened his mouth to reply but the words disappeared into the ether somewhere. Why did he care? This was the woman who’d betrayed him, stuck a jagged knife in his back, and done it while fucking his brains out. Why did he care?

He looked at her face painted in fury and hurt. What did she have to be hurt about? To be furious about? She was the one who’d destroyed them. She’d taken the hope of there even being a ‘them’ and buried it six feet under the ground.

Why? To ruin him? To smear his reputation so his ambition of a Supreme Court judgeship was forever out of his reach? Did she hate him so much? And if she hated him that much then why did she look at him the way she did? And why, after all this, did he still want her the way he did?

He cared. He didn’t know why he did but he cared. So fucking much!

When he didn’t answer, Aadhya went back to her phone and whatever she was typing out on it. Ram watched her for a long moment but before he could bring up any of the confused thoughts swarming through his brain, there was a knock on the door and the staff wheeled a dinner tray in for Aadhya.

He stepped back as they set it all up on a bedtray for her and left. His mother had sent up a simple meal of chicken soup and steamed vegetables with buttered toast on the side. Ram stared at it bemused. He loved his mother dearly, but this wasn’t a side of hers that he was familiar with. His mother was many things but maternal was not one of them. At least she never had been with her children. Apparently, Aadhya woke something in her that none of the brats she’d given birth to had managed to.

“You’re going shopping with my mother,” he murmured, more to himself but Aadhya glanced up at him.

“Is that a problem?” she asked, the edge to her voice noticeable, as she stirred some vinegar and green chillies into her soup.

“No.” Ram shook his head, the strangeness of the moment making his head spin. “I,” he paused before adding, “Thank you.”

Aadhya’s spoon stopped turning as she frowned up at him. “For what?”

“For being nice to my mother. She…” Ram considered his words carefully. “Finds it hard to connect with people.”

Aadhya’s fierce gaze softened. She shoved some of her unruly hair out of her face before sighing. “So do I normally. But it wasn’t hard with your mother.”

Aadhya smiled, the smallest smile but it felt like the crack of dawn had arrived early, brightening up every corner of this dark, shadowy room.

“It was hard with you though.” The smile still teased her full lips making him want to kiss her and brand it into his.

“It wasn’t a piece of cake for me either,” he retorted, but the warmth in his voice eased the sting in his words.

“Won’t you come back to the bedroom?” he asked, the words carrying an unspoken plea he could no longer hide.

Aadhya’s smile disappeared. “Not tonight.”

The brief answer lay between them, a grenade with its pin pulled out. Not tonight. Aadhya hadn’t shut the door completely on them but neither had she opened it. All she’d done was leave it ajar.

“If you feel unwell or need me at any point tonight-“

“I won’t,” she cut him off before he could say anymore. “I can take care of myself.”

But I want to take care of you. The words died unsaid on his lips.

“Thank you for all you’ve done so far,” she said formally, her eyes darkening with emotion he couldn’t decipher. “But I’ve got this now. I don’t need anything from you.”

“But if you do-“

“I won’t, Ram.”

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