Page 113 of Mrs. Rathore

We finally reached a small shopping complex. It was simple, and tidy shops painted cream and brown. Aryan parked the car and walked around to open the door for me.

“You’ll find almost everything here: tailors, uniform stores, a beauty parlour, and general stores. It’s not a mall, but it does the job,” he said with a playful shrug.

I looked around, taking in the simplicity of it all, the calm, the order, and the quiet dignity that seemed to float through the air like a silent anthem.

“It’s peaceful here,” I said, smiling softly.

Aryan glanced at me. “That’s the best part. Outside, the world’s loud. But here, everything breathes in rhythm.”

I nodded slowly.

This kind of life was unfamiliar to me. But somehow, walking beside Aryan through the quiet, disciplined world of the cantonment, I felt like maybe I could belong.

“After shopping, we’ll go out for dinner,” Aryan said casually.

I turned to him, surprised.

Did he really just offer to take me on a date?

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Chapter 45

AVNI

It was an officers’ party at the community hall, and I had absolutely no idea what to wear. If Rhea had been here, she would've picked the perfect saree for me in minutes and even done my makeup while humming her favorite songs. Just thinking about her made my chest ache a little.

I’d spent a week here, yet I wasn’t familiar with any of my neighbors. If it had been up to me, I would’ve stayed in the quarters, curled up with a book or just binge-watched something to escape. But Aryan had insisted I come with him. He said I should start getting to know people, or else they might think I was arrogant or too proud to mix with others.

The word arrogant stung a little more than it should have.

I grabbed my phone, desperate for advice. Rhea. Of course. But I stopped myself from calling because her NEET exam was tomorrow. She’d been preparing for it for two years. I couldn’t distract her, not now. I put the phone down and tried calling Kavya. Switched off. Great. Noor came to mind next, but she was probably busy, spending the evening with her husband.

God, I was alone in this. I felt helpless and silly for caring so much about a saree. But it mattered. I didn’t want to show up looking out of place, overdressed, or underdressed.

With a sigh of frustration, I yanked open the wardrobe and started flipping through my collection. My fingers stopped ona purple saree. It was a soft shimmer across its body, with a delicate silver border. I didn’t even remember buying it. Elegant, light, and perfect for a formal evening.

But the blouse.

A thin strap, sleeveless, backless. That was why I’d never worn it. It had always felt too bold, and too exposed. I stared at it for a long moment.

“I shouldn’t wear that,” I murmured, already turning back to the wardrobe. But every other saree suddenly looked dull, outdated, or too heavy.

“God, I have no choice.”

Thirty minutes later, I stood in front of the mirror and nearly gasped. The saree clung to me like it was made for my body. But I couldn’t stop staring at the amount of skin I was showing. My heart pounded.

Aryan would get angry.

Or would he?

Why should it matter? It was my body and my choice. I could wear whatever the hell I wanted.

Still, I kept adjusting the pallu, trying to drape it higher, lower, anything to make myself feel less naked.

I finished the look with a soft pink lipstick, a hint of blush, and a light stroke of mascara. It was simple, pretty, and feminine.

“You got rea—” Aryan’s voice stopped abruptly behind me.

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