Page 152 of Mrs. Rathore

After a few moments, I heard them. His heavy and familiar footsteps grew louder and louder.

I didn’t look over my shoulder. I just sat still on the sofa, frozen in time, waiting. Waiting for his warmth, his presence, to surround me again.

And then… he was there, standing in front of me.

Aryan.

His hair was longer, slightly disheveled, and a shadow of beard darkened his jaw. He looked rugged, tired, but still heartbreakingly handsome in his olive green shirt and dark slacks. As masculine as ever. But his eyes were bloodshot.

He looked at me, then away quickly, jaw clenched tight.

“Aryan…” I whispered.

He still wouldn’t meet my eyes. His chest rose and fell, his fists curling and uncurling by his sides.

“I’m sorry…” I stood slowly, reaching out.

Finally, he looked at me and what I saw shattered me.

Tears. Tears I had never seen before.

He ran a hand over his face, shaking his head, as if trying to hold himself together.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered again, stepping forward and wrapping my arms around his broad chest.

In a heartbeat, he pulled me into him tightly and desperately, pressing a kiss to my hairline.

“No. I’m sorry. For breaking you… twice.”

His voice was hoarse, ragged.

He cupped my face and kissed me on the temple, the eyes, the cheeks, the lips, and finally, my neck.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, his voice cracking. “For leaving you alone when you needed me the most.”

Tears welled in my eyes. I had never seen Aryan like this before, never this unguarded. He had always shown me the brave soldier, the dutiful son, the steady, loving husband.

But now… I was seeing the man behind the uniform.

And he was hurting. Because he had hurt me. And still, I had never stopped loving him. I never would.

He gently placed his hand on my belly, breathing shakily. “You kept it…”

My throat tightened. “I felt awful when I realized what I was about to do,” I said, my voice breaking.

“I missed everything…” he murmured, fingers trembling against my belly.

“You sound like you would take five months' leave if we stayed together,” I said, trying to smile through my tears. “You missed nothing. It’s only just beginning.” I guided his hand to the spot where the baby kicked. “See? Already impatient to meet you.”

For the first time in months, Aryan smiled. A real, heartfelt smile.

“We still have two months,” he said softly. He bent down and pressed a kiss to my belly. “God, I love it. I can feel it. It’s so… unreal. I’m going to be a papa?”

“And I’m mama.” I grinned, brushing his hair back. “I thought you didn’t want to see me again.”

He chuckled, shaking his head.

“Rhea told me you were pregnant. She said it like I was supposed to know already.” He laughed lightly. “I applied for leave, but it didn’t go through. And I hated my job for the first time in my life.”

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