Page 122 of Mrs. Rathore

Aryan didn’t look at him. “You should never have come.”

I turned to Prashant and pulled him into a quick hug. “Thanks for coming... and for everything.”

He gave me a sad smile, nodded once at Aryan, who didn’t return it, and walked away through the gate, his sisters silently following.

Once the door shut behind them, a heavy silence fell between us.

Aryan finally spoke, his voice low and tight. “You shouldn’t have let him in.”

“You don’t get to say that,” I replied coldly. “You lost that right the moment you stopped acting like my husband.”

He stared at me for a long moment, then turned and walked into the house without another word.

I stood frozen in place, the sun still shining above but inside, all I felt was cold, frosty cold.

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Chapter 49

AVNI

It was evening. The sky outside was a mix of soft orange and fading purple as I quietly made dinner in the kitchen. The only sounds were the chopping of vegetables and the gentle clatter of dishes. My thoughts kept going back to the fight earlier and the pain was still in my chest. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't forget how Aryan had embarrassed Prashant. Or how he had suddenly acted possessive, territorial, when for weeks he had treated me like a stranger.

The door creaked open.

I slowly turned and saw Aryan standing there, now out of his uniform and dressed in a dark, casual shirt and jeans. He looked incredibly handsome, as always, but his shoulders were tense, and he held a small, neatly wrapped box with uncertainty.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice softer. "I forgot your birthday. I know that's not okay... but I want to make it up to you. Happy birthday, Avni."

He offered me the box. I took it, more from habit than willingness. His eyes searched mine for a sign of forgiveness, but I couldn't ignore the pain still burning inside me. Not after what had happened today. Not after how he had looked at Prashant as if he were dirt, for doing something Aryan himself had failed to do.

He never would have remembered if someone hadn't reminded him. And the kiss we shared two weeks ago... He had acted like it meant nothing.

"What is it?" I asked coldly, already tearing the wrapping paper. The ribbon slipped through my fingers, and I opened the box to find an elegant tray of expensive, sugar-free chocolate truffles. They were my favorite kind. He remembered I didn't eat much sugar, and he remembered my love for chocolates.

"Thank you," I said evenly, giving him a small smile that didn't reach my eyes.

Aryan nodded, the corner of his lips lifting slightly in return.

Then, without another word, I turned and started walking toward the front door with the box in hand.

He blinked, surprised. "What are you doing, Avni?"

I didn't reply. He followed me, confused. I stepped outside into the fading evening light and looked toward the far end of the gate. There he was, Jimmy, the stray dog who had started sleeping outside our house every evening. I had fed him ever since we moved in. He always wagged his tail when he saw me, as if I was the only good thing in his day.

"Jimmy," I called softly.

The dog's ears perked up, and his tail started wagging wildly as he bounded toward me. I knelt down and unwrapped the chocolates, feeding them to him one by one.

The first. Then the second. Aryan said nothing.

The third. Then the fourth. I felt his presence behind me, the warmth of his gaze on my back.

I continued feeding Jimmy calmly until the last of the twelve shiny chocolate balls was gone. Jimmy licked my fingers affectionately, completely unaware of the silent conflict playing out behind him.

With a small, satisfied smile, I stood up and dusted off my hands. I held up the now-empty box for Aryan to see, and without a word, I walked over to the trash bin and dropped it in.

Only then did I turn back to look at him. He stood in the doorway, arms crossed, his jaw set in that rigid way it always was when he was trying to stay calm. His dark eyes held no fire, no ice, just emptiness.

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