Rayaan's pov:

I don't know whose idea it was to make Arvi sit in the front seat. Probably Areekha's. She shoved her in before I could protest and claimed the back with Aleesha like it was some sort of pre-planned strategy.

Now Arvi sat beside me, barely breathing.

Hands clasped tightly in her lap, dupatta pulled just a little too carefully over her shoulder. Her eyes stayed fixed on the road like she didn't dare glance in my direction.

From the backseat, chaos was brewing.

"Arvi," Aleesha started, voice sweet in that annoying, calculated way, "did you pick this outfit for your first-day-back look or just to impress the driver?"

Areekha giggled. "Yeah, seriously. A little too traditional. What happened to your jeans-and-kurti phase?"

Arvi looked mortified. "It's just comfortable," she mumbled.

"She means Rayaan Bhaiya's comfortable," Aleesha whispered loudly.

I tapped the steering wheel once. "Shut up."

The car went silent for half a second.

"Possessive," Areekha muttered behind a fake cough. "Noted."

I didn't respond. I didn't have to.

Arvi, on the other hand, was shrinking into her seat like she could disappear. Her cheeks had gone red, and she pulled her dupatta tighter, still refusing to meet my eyes.

Good. Maybe then she wouldn't notice how tight I was gripping the steering wheel.

I didn't like the way they teased her. Even if it was harmless. Even if it was stupid cousin-sister nonsense.

Because I knew her. I knew that kind of attention made her anxious. Nervous. And for some reason, that bothered me more than it should've.

"Say one more thing and you both are walking," I said, calm but sharp.

Aleesha gasped. "You wouldn't."

I looked at her through the mirror. "Try me."

They went quiet after that, whispering between themselves but careful now. I could still hear the occasional giggle. But Arvi... she stayed frozen. Eyes on the windshield. Shoulders stiff.

I wanted to say something. Something that would ease the tension. Maybe tell her she didn't need to let them get to her.

But I didn't.

Instead, I slowed the car a little.

So she wouldn't feel rushed.

So maybe she'd know... I noticed.

I pulled the car up to the college gate, the usual rush of students swarming the entrance like bees to a hive. Aleesha and Arekha were already getting restless in the backseat, chatting about something I had zero interest in.

"Thanks, bhai!" Arekha called as she hopped out, Aleesha following with a wink and a flip of her hair.

And then... her.

Arvi.

She sat beside me in silence, fingers curled around the strap of her bag, eyes fixed straight ahead. Like I wasn't even there.

My wife

The title echoed in my mind like a secret I wasn't supposed to say out loud. It still felt surreal how we ended up here. Married, but strangers in so many ways. Under one roof, yet separated by distance that wasn't measured in meters.

"You dont want to go?," I said, keeping my voice neutral.

She glanced at me then just a flicker of a look. Her lips parted like she might say something, but she didn't. Just pushed open the door and got out.

No goodbye. No smile. Not even a glance back.

I watched her disappear into the crowd, a strange ache blooming in my chest.

I hated that feeling.

.

.

The office was quieter than usual when I got in. My chair welcomed me like an old friend, but my mind wasn't with the numbers or the reports waiting on my desk. It was still back there... with her.

I told myself it didn't matter. That she was just playing her part, and I was playing mine. But deep down, I knew better.

She wasn't just anyone. She was mine on paper, in law.

But the question that haunted me was

Would she ever be mine in the way that mattered?

I had been staring at the same damn file for twenty minutes. The numbers blurred into nonsense, and the usual sharp focus I prided myself on? Gone.

All because of her.

Arvi.

The way she left this morning without looking back... it shouldn't bother me. We weren't like other couples. Ours wasn't a marriage built on sweet mornings and soft words.

But still it bothered me.

I leaned back in my chair, jaw tight, fingers tapping against the glass table.

What was she doing right now? Laughing with someone? Hiding that stubborn spark in her eyes behind fake politeness?

Or maybe... she was thinking about me too?

A scoff escaped my lips.

I hated feeling this unbalanced. Like she had the power to distract me without even trying. That wasn't how I operated.

Without a second thought, I reached for my phone.

"Call the HOD of City Central College," I ordered my secretary.

A few minutes later, the call connected. I didn't waste time.

"This is Rayaan Oberoi," I said, my tone sharp and unmistakable. "I want access to your campus's CCTV feed. Specifically the west wing entrances and common areas."

There was a nervous chuckle on the other end. "O..of course, sir. May I ask the reason?"

"You may not."

Silence.

Then, compliance. As always.

Within the hour, a secure portal link hit my inbox. Password protected, but easily cracked with the access he handed over because no one says no to an Oberoi. And definitely not to me.

I opened the footage, fast-forwarding past the blur of students, until I found her.

Arvi.

Sitting alone under a tree in the courtyard. Her head lowered, fingers fidgeting with the edge of a notebook. She looked distant.

Sad, even.

Something twisted in my chest.

I shouldn't have done this.

I should've just focused on work like the man I was known to be. Cold. Unshaken. Ruthless.

But here I was watching her like some desperate fool, trying to read the silence between her glances and the stories behind her stillness.

God, what the hell are you doing to me, Arvi?

.

.

By the time I stepped out of the car, the rain had already started falling gentle, steady drops soaking into the earth. The sky was a deep gray, the kind that made everything look softer, quieter.

I didn't bother with an umbrella. Just walked through the Oberoi Mansion gates, hands in my pockets, my shirt slowly dampening, hair slicking back. The guards opened the doors before I could reach them, and I went straight up to my room, craving silence.

But then,

Something caught my eye from the window.

Laughter.

I turned my head.

Down in the garden, in the middle of the rain, were four girls. Aleesha, Arekha, Vanisha and her. My wife.

Arvi.

Soaked to the skin, barefoot in the grass, spinning like a child who had never known sorrow. Her hair clung to her face, her kurti plastered to her frame. She was laughing freely, fully. The kind of laugh I'd never heard from her. The kind of smile she never gave me.

She looked like everything I didn't know I needed.

My feet moved before I could think. I stepped closer to the window, eyes fixed on her. The others were jumping around, screaming at the cold, but she didn't care. She just kept dancing.

Without thinking, I pulled out my phone. My fingers hovered for a second

And then I clicked.

A single photo.

Her, mid-laugh, arms in the air, eyes closed.

Captured.

I stared at it for a moment, then locked my phone and slipped it into my pocket. A faint smile tugged at the corner of my lips.

No one saw it. No one ever does.

But in that second, I realized something.

I didn't just want to watch her from a distance anymore.

I wanted to be the reason she smiled like that.

Even if she hated me now.

Even if she never knew I took that photo.

The photo was still glowing on my screen when the door suddenly creaked open.

I didn't move just slid my phone into my pocket and looked up, already knowing who it was.

Arvi.

She froze the second our eyes met. Her chest was rising and falling fast, strands of wet hair clinging to her cheeks, droplets of rain trailing down her skin.

She hadn't expected me.

Her clothes were soaked through completely. And beneath the thin cotton, I could see more than she probably intended me to. Her dupatta had slipped off, hanging uselessly from her elbow. Her arms wrapped instinctively around her torso, trying to hide herself.

But it was too late.

For a long moment, neither of us said a word.

Her lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to speak but nothing came out. Her eyes darted to the side, to the floor, to anywhere but me.

And me?

I should've looked away.

I should've respected the space, the silence, the lines we drew between us.

But I didn't.

Because right then, she looked like poetry in motion fragile and fierce, embarrassed but still burning with that fire she always tried to hide from me.

I finally stood up, slow and deliberate. Walked toward her. She stiffened.

Wordlessly, I reached for the wardrobe, pulled out a towel, and held it out to her no questions, no remarks. Just quiet.

She took it with trembling fingers, eyes still lowered.

"You'll catch a cold," I said, my voice rougher than I meant.

She nodded once, then turned to go. But just before stepping out, she paused.

For a second, I thought she'd say something.

But she didn't.

She walked out, leaving only the scent of rain and jasmine behind.

And me,

Still standing there, wondering when the hell this woman became the center of my world.

Arvi's pov:

The rain had caught me off guard.

I stood by the door, drenched from head to toe, my clothes clinging uncomfortably to my skin. My hair dripped water down my face, and I was shivering before I even stepped inside the room.

He was there again.

Rayaan.

Standing his phone in hand but the second he saw me, His brows furrowed, not in anger for once, but something else... concern?

Without a word, he walked to the wardrobe, pulled out a towel, and walked over to me. My heart skipped a beat when he stopped just inches away.

"Take this," he said, holding it out. "You'll catch a cold like this."

I looked up at him, the towel still hanging between us, but my lips refused to move. The warmth in his voice caught me off guard. It wasn't demanding or cold... it was soft.

Gentle.

And that made me even more nervous.

I took the towel silently, our fingers brushing for the briefest second. The contact sent a jolt through me, and I immediately looked away, focusing on drying my hair, anything to avoid those eyes of his.

He didn't press. Didn't ask questions. He just stayed.

And somehow, that silence felt louder than words.

I turned my back to him, pressing the towel into my wet hair, trying to calm the storm inside me. The room was too quiet, except for the soft patter of rain still tapping against the windows. I could feel his gaze on me it was heavy, unreadable.

"You really don't take care of yourself, do you?" he said after a pause. Not accusing, just... stating a fact.

I swallowed hard, still not facing him. "I didn't know it would rain."

He didn't reply. I felt him move behind me, footsteps slow and deliberate. Then, to my surprise, a second towel landed gently over my shoulders, warmer than the first.

I stiffened.

He was close now too close. I could feel the heat radiating off him despite the cold in my bones. And still, I couldn't bring myself to move.

"I'm not your responsibility," I whispered, unsure why those words left my mouth.

"I know," he murmured, his voice low, calm. "But that doesn't mean I'll stand by and watch you fall sick."

My fingers gripped the towel tighter. There it was again that gentleness that threw me off balance. He was supposed to hate me, wasn't he? Or at least dislike me enough to not care. But every time I thought I had him figured out... he did something like this.

And I didn't know how to feel about it.

I finally turned, just enough to meet his eyes. "Why are you being nice to me?"

His expression didn't change, but something in his gaze softened. "I'm not nice," he said simply. "I'm just not heartless."

And then, as quickly as he'd come close, he stepped away, leaving me standing there, soaked, confused, and somehow... warm.

Not because of the towel.

Because of him.

The living room was buzzing with chatter when I walked in, towel-drying my damp hair from the earlier rain. Aleesha, Arekha, and Vanisha were all huddled together, whispering like they were plotting a secret mission.

"Let's have a movie night," Vanisha whispered excitedly.

"With popcorn," Aleesha added. "And no phones."

Arekha grinned. "And we'll drag everyone. Even him."

My stomach twisted before they even said his name.

Just then, the door to the study creaked open.

Rayaan.

He walked out with the same quiet intensity that always made the room go still. His white shirt sleeves were rolled up, hair slightly tousled, and jaw sharp like the rest of his expression. He didn't even glance our way at first just walked towards the kitchen for water.

Aleesha leaned toward Vivaan. "Ask him."

Vivaan looked like she'd told him to jump off a cliff. "Me? You ask him."

"He likes you best," Vanisha whispered.

Vivaan let out a sigh and stood hesitantly. "Bhai..."

Rayaan paused mid-sip and turned, eyebrows raised. "What?"

"We were thinking of watching a movie tonight. Just all of us... and Arvi's joining too." He smiled nervously. "You should come."

Rayaan looked at him like he'd lost his mind. "No."

Of course.

"We'll watch something good," Arekha chimed in, voice small now.

"I said no." His tone was sharp cold enough to make even the AC feel warmer. "I'm not sitting through two hours of noise and idiocy."

Silence fell.

Even I felt myself shrink into the cushions. It was like his presence sucked all the air out of the room. I didn't even realize I was holding my breath.

Vivaan gave a weak laugh. "We can't skip movie night just because you're allergic to fun."

Rayaan's eyes snapped to him, dark and unreadable. "You want to push me today, Vivaan?"

Vivaan instantly looked down. "No, bhai."

Rayaan turned to walk away and then, just as he reached the hallway, he stopped.

He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes falling briefly on me.

"If I'm forced to sit through this, there better not be any idiotic rom-coms. And if anyone talks over the movie I'm walking out."

He walked away before anyone could react.

The silence lingered for another beat until Arekha let out a breath. "That's... a yes?"

Vivaan nodded quickly. "That's a Rayaan bhai yes."

I sat there quietly, unsure why my heart was beating so fast.

Maybe it was the tension.

Maybe it was the way his eyes lingered on me for just a second longer than necessary.

Or maybe... it was the fact that Rayaan Oberoi cold, terrifying, impossible was going to be sitting on the same couch with me tonight.

And that was more intimidating than any storm outside.

Home theater-OBERIO MANSION.

Rayaan's pov:

The second I stepped out of my study, I knew I'd made a mistake.

Noise. Laughter. Screaming.

And the unmistakable sound of Vivaan yelling, "We are not watching Kuch Kuch Hota Hai again! That movie is ancient!"

Aleesha threw a pillow at him. "It's a classic! Shut up!"

"Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara!" Arekha chimed in, hopping onto the couch. "It's mature. Inspiring. Rayaan bhai might not hate it."

"Don't drag him into this," Vivaan muttered. "He'll say no to everything anyway."

Smart boy.

I leaned against the wall silently, arms crossed, watching the chaos.

"Yeh Jawaani Hai Deewani?" Vanisha offered next.

"No!" chorused three voices at once.

"Fine!" she huffed. "Then Main Hoon Na! Action and emotion!"

Vivaan looked like he was going to throw himself out the window.

I cleared my throat.

Silence hit the room like a slap.

All eyes turned to me.

Aleesha smiled nervously. "Rayaan bhai, we were just... deciding on a movie for tonight."

"No," I said simply, already turning back toward my room.

"Wait!" Vivaan said quickly. "Just one movie. Everyone's here. Even Arvi."

I glanced briefly toward her. She was sitting curled into the far corner of the couch, quiet, hugging a cushion like it was her shield.

The rest of them stared at me like I was some strict school principal they were trying to win over.

"You all are this loud before the movie's even started," I muttered. "Can't imagine what it'll be like during."

Arekha held up her hands. "We'll be silent! Promise."

I raised an eyebrow. "No rom-coms. No singing. And no one talks over the movie."

Vanisha blinked. "...So you want to watch a documentary?"

"Jab We Met?" Arvi's voice cut in quietly.

Everyone turned to her like she'd said something revolutionary.

"That's... actually perfect," Aleesha nodded quickly. "Fun. Light. Not too much singing."

Vivaan grinned. "Bhai? Jab We Met?"

I stared at them all for a second too long. Then sighed. "Start it. Before I change my mind."

Cheers broke out immediately as they scrambled for the remote.

I took the only empty spot next to her.

Arvi.

She didn't look at me, just focused on the screen. Her shoulders were tense. Like even the smallest shift in my mood could set her on fire.

Good.

Let them remember who I am.

Even if tonight... I wasn't quite sure why I stayed.

The movie played on, full of loud music and ridiculous optimism. I didn't care for it but I didn't leave either.

Maybe because Arvi was sitting beside me. Maybe because... I was tired of silence tonight.

She didn't say much. Just sat quietly with her knees tucked to her chest, her eyes fixed on the screen. Every time she shifted, the faint rustle of fabric or the brush of her elbow against mine made me hyper-aware of how close we were.

Halfway through the movie, I noticed her breathing had slowed.

I turned slightly.

She had fallen asleep. Just like that. Head slumped gently onto my shoulder, her hair brushing the edge of my jaw.

I stilled completely.

Her skin was soft. Warm.

It felt... unfamiliar. And yet weirdly comforting.

I could've woken her. I should've. But something stopped me. Something I didn't want to name.

Vanisha was out cold too, snoring lightly beside Arekha.

"Vivaan," I said quietly, not moving, "take her to her room."

He yawned. "She's heavy."

"Take her anyway."

He grumbled but obeyed.

The rest started picking up on my tone and scattered without another word. No one argued. No one lingered.

They knew better.

When the room was finally empty and the screen faded to black, I looked down at her again.

She was still there. Still sleeping against me like she had no idea who she was leaning on.

I watched her for a second longer than I should've.

And then carefully I slipped one arm under her knees and the other behind her back, lifting her into my arms.

She barely stirred. Just nestled in closer.

I held her tighter.

Her head rested just beneath my chin, and her hair smelled faintly like rain and jasmine.

I walked slowly toward the stairs, my steps silent against the marble. Every part of me tense but not because I was angry.

Because I didn't want to let go.

In my room, I laid her down on the bed gently. Her brows twitched in protest, like she sensed the loss of warmth.

I watched her breathe.

Then pulled the blanket up over her, letting it cover her shoulders.

I should've walked out.

But instead, I stood there a little longer, hands clenched at my sides, staring at the girl who'd fallen asleep on the one shoulder no one dared to lean on.

She didn't know it yet.

But tonight, something shifted.

Not in the way she thought.

Not in the way I could admit.

But it shifted.

And I couldn't pretend otherwise.