Page 137 of Mrs. Rathore

His mouth ghosted over my collarbone. “Now you’ll see how tired I am…”

His fingers danced over the back of my blouse, unclasping it with ease. I arched into him, feeling the heat between us surge. My saree slipped away like silk against fire. His hands explored every inch of me like he was relearning a memory.

His kisses turned from gentle to urgent. My body answered him in every gasp, every shiver, and every whispered name in the quiet dimness.

We didn’t just make love that afternoon. We reclaimed each other.

_____

Aryan and I were heading out for dinner, and I couldn’t stop smiling at the way he held my hand throughout the entire ride. His grip was gentle and reassuring. He looked effortlesslyhandsome in a dark shirt and light slacks, his jaw freshly shaven, and his hair neatly slicked back. He smelled of shave cream and lavender soap, familiar and comforting.

“What have you been up to this past month while I was away?” Aryan asked, his eyes on the road as he drove.

“Hmm… cooking, dancing, studying…” I replied casually.

“And…?” He threw a quick glance my way, a teasing grin tugging at his lips.

“And missing,” I said softly, my gaze dropping to our intertwined fingers. “...a lot.”

“You never said that on the phone,” he murmured, a hint of mock accusation in his tone. “I thought I was the only one going crazy missing a girl day and night.”

“You didn’t say it either,” I shot back with a knowing look.

He chuckled. “Touché.”

The city lights began to sparkle as the sun set. Aryan parked his car near a charming rooftop restaurant he had chosen. It was a cozy place with soft fairy lights and a gentle breeze that played with my saree. He reached over and adjusted the pallu on my shoulder, a natural, protective gesture.

We sat across from each other at a quiet corner table, away from the noise. When the waiter came, Aryan, knowing my preferences perfectly, ordered for both of us.

"You always remember what I like," I said, resting my chin in my hand as I watched him.

"Of course," he replied with a smirk. "I've memorized your smile, your silences, your tantrums, how you like your tea, and even the exact color your face turns when you're about to cry."

I laughed, blushing. "I don't throw tantrums."

He raised an eyebrow. "Avni, you once didn't talk to me for two days because I used the last of your hair serum."

"That's because it was imported!" I protested with a playful glare.

We both burst out laughing.

As we ate, we talked about everything: my dance channel, his duty station, and his training stories he hadn't shared yet. I told him how Aarav was preparing for the JEE and how Papa had started smiling again after so long. He told me about the flood victims he helped rescue, the children who clung to him as if he were their savior, and the old woman who made him promise to return safely to his wife.

"Did you really tell her that?" I asked, a little surprised.

He took a sip of water and nodded, looking directly into my eyes. "Yeah. I told her I have a wife who makes the best paneer butter masala in the world. And that I had to come back to her... no matter what."

A strange warmth spread through my chest, feeling both heavy and light. It was as if my heart had just realized it was beating for the man sitting across from me.

"I'm not ready to let you go, Aryan," I whispered, the words coming out unexpectedly. "This divorce... I don't want it. I thought I was just surviving in this marriage, but I think... I've started living."

He reached across the table and held my hand, his thumb gently circling my wrist. "Then don't let go. We still have time, right? Let's not waste another second thinking about ending something that finally started to feel like home."

Tears welled up in my eyes, but they didn't fall. He squeezed my hand again and smiled.

We ended the night walking along the riverbank next to the restaurant. The moon was bright, and the world felt slower, quieter, and warmer.

Aryan took off his shoes, rolled up his pants, and with a laugh like a young boy, pulled me into the cool water with him.

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