Page 136 of Mrs. Rathore

I loved spending time with Aryan more than I loved my Kathak practice. I loved eating out with him, laughing over silly things, watching the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. I loved his voice, his touch, and his scent. Everything about him pulled me in like gravity.

I loved him. I had fallen for him completely, and helplessly. And I only realized how deep it ran when Aryan was called away for emergency disaster relief duty.

He was gone for a whole month. One month without hearing his voice in person, without seeing his face across the breakfast table. His duty stole that month from us, and in every waking moment, I found myself aching for him. I lived off memories of his texts, his scent on the bed sheet, and his half-used shaving cream.

I glanced at the clock. It was half past three. He told me he would be here in thirty minutes.

After a month of distance, he was finally coming home. We still had one more month together before the divorce. A divorce I had once been so certain about. Now, the more I thought of it, the more it felt like tearing my own heart out.

I shook the thought off before the ache could reach my eyes and turned to the kitchen, immersing myself in cooking all hisfavorite dishes. He adored my cooking and I loved feeding him, watching the boyish grin light up his face after the first bite.

Since that night on the trip, something in our relationship had shifted. We were stronger and closer. We hadn’t labeled it, hadn’t said the words, but I could feel it.

I still spoke to Prashant occasionally, only on the phone. And when we met, it was always in Aryan’s presence. Aryan never left my side, his arm often brushing mine, his gaze protective and possessive.

As if he wanted the world to know I was his. And in his own quiet, gentle way, he proved time and again how proud he was of me.

My Kathak reels went viral. I crossed 500k followers on Instagram. YouTube took off too. People even started asking me for selfies on the streets. It was overwhelming but thrilling. I started earning well, and every rupee went back to my family.

Aryan had been supportive until I told him I had paid Aarav’s tuition. That bruised his male ego more than he let on. He didn’t like that I no longer needed his money. But despite that, he handled my family with surprising grace. He even tried to convince Aarav to take the NDA exam, though Aarav was more focused on JEE and IIT dreams.

My family was finding stability. My career had taken flight. And my marriage that used to be uncertain was finally settling into something that looked like love.

But did Aryan love me?

I didn’t know.

He cared. He held me like I was something precious. But was it love?

And if it wasn’t...

Could I survive losing him?

The doorbell rang. My heart fluttered and my breath caught.

“Aryan…” I whispered, almost in disbelief, as I walked to open the door.

He stood there, broad-shouldered and wind-swept, a duffel bag slung over one arm.

“Hello, beautiful…” he grinned, stepping inside and kicking the door shut. The bag dropped with a soft thud.

Then he was in front of me. His arms wrapped tightly around my waist as he pulled me in, and his mouth met mine in a kiss that tasted of longing, of the days and nights we had spent apart.

“God, I missed you like hell,” he murmured, his breath warm against my cheek.

I smiled, kissing him back, desperate, hungry for him. Without a second pause, Aryan swept me into his arms. I let out a soft gasp as he carried me to the bedroom, his mouth never leaving mine.

He kicked the door shut behind us.

He didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to.

His hands found the hem of his uniform shirt, pulling it over his head, revealing the smooth muscles beneath, glistening with the faintest sheen of sweat. His belt clinked, his pants fell, piece by piece until he stood before me in nothing but his desire.

All the while, his eyes never left mine. They were dark, intense and starved.

“There wasn’t a single second I didn’t think about you,” he said, his voice hoarse, trembling with restraint.

“Are you not tired?” I managed to laugh softly, trying to catch my breath as he leaned in.