In the quiet aftermath of yesterday’s chaos, a fragile sort of relief settled over me. Thank God we had been alone. If Divyansh’s family had been there to witness the vitriol my Chachi spewed, I think I would have simply ceased to exist from the sheer weight of the embarrassment. But Divyansh... he was a revelation. He handled her with a calm authority I hadn't expected, even looping in Vivek to ensure the fire was truly out.
The fallout was messy, but manageable. Amol is out of jail, though the police kept his bike and revoked his license—a small mercy, despite the tantrums he’s throwing for a replacement. Even better, Avyansh is finally moving out next week. Chachi-ji is practically glowing at the news. Looking back, it’s bitter. After my parents died, Chacha-ji took us in, but Chachi made sure we knew we were a burden. I spent my youth juggling part-time jobs just to keep my brother and me afloat.
That drive is what built "Ruiraay." My friend handled the artistry; I handled the blood, sweat, and corporate steel. Success brought the house and the car, but it couldn't touch the hollow ache of loneliness in my chest. Then came Divyansh.
He is the antithesis of my "ideal" man. He’s younger, less established, and carries a stubborn streak that rivals my own. On paper, the cons outweigh the pros. At our wedding, the whispers about our age gap were loud enough to reach the altar. Yet, he surprises me every day. He is fiercely independent, standing his ground even with his own mother to defend our choices. When he stood between me and my Chachi’s cruelty, I realized for the first time in my life that I actually had someone to lean on.
And then there are my own impulses. I don't know what possessed me to kiss his dimples; I’ve never been the type to succumb to "urges." At the office, I am the "Ice Queen"—a cold, emotionless executive. My staff would be horrified to know their boss spends her mornings shamelessly gawking at her sleeping husband, nursing a schoolgirl crush on a man who does pushups before bed just to stay fit.
He’s started with the nicknames, too. "Jaana." He said it last night, and the word has been on a loop in my head ever since, making my stomach do a slow, dizzying flip. Jaana, Darling, Sweety... and his favorite, "Avi." I act annoyed, but God, I can’t get enough of it.
I’ve even saved his contact in my phone as "Dimples." If he ever found out, he’d tease me into early retirement. If my employees found out, my "dominating aura" would vanish in a heartbeat.
I’m losing my mind. I’m actually jealous of Scooby. The dog gets to cuddle with him every night, while I’m over here—the "Ice Queen"—wishing I were a damn pillow just so he’d snuggle me that tightly. Get it together, Avni, I tell myself. Sleep before you get caught staring at him like he's a meal you’re about to devour. Shut up, you idiot.
The Author’s Perspective
Avni slammed her eyes shut the moment she felt Divyansh stir. When his hand brushed against hers, the sensation felt like a physical explosion. Her heart wasn't just beating; it was a high-performance engine redlining on an F1 track. She stayed like that for two hours, frozen in a silent war between the urge to crawl closer and the instinct to flee. By the time her alarm shrilled at 6:30 AM, she had retreated to the very edge of the bed.
She bolted for the bathroom, desperate to wash away the heat of her own thoughts. When she emerged, ready for the corporate world, she found Divyansh sitting up. He was a mess of bedhead and half-closed eyes, his veiny hand absently stroking Scooby’s fur.
"Good morning, Avi," he rumbled. The morning rasp in his voice sent a treacherous shiver down her spine.
"Good... morning," she managed, her voice tight with the effort of appearing composed.
"I should get ready," Divyansh said, standing to gather his clothes from the wardrobe. As he moved past her, Avni’s hand acted on its own, catching his wrist.
"Divyansh, I... I wanted to tell you something." She didn't have a plan. She just couldn't let him walk away yet.
He turned, a lazy smirk playing on his lips. "I’m listening, Jaana."
The nickname turned her bones to liquid. "There’s a business party tonight," she blurted out. "One of my first investors is celebrating their 40th anniversary. Be ready by seven."
"As you wish," he said, leaning in slightly. "Your husband will be ready. Anything else?"
"No. Go. You’ll be late for the office."
"I would," he whispered, glancing down at her grip, "if you’d let go of my hand."
Avni felt the heat rush to her face. She wished the floor would simply open up and take her. "I was just... making sure you were paying attention. Go!"
Breakfast was a domestic blur. Vinayak was covertly feeding omelet scraps to Scooby under the table; Ridha was mothering Vivek with extra parathas despite his protests. Amidst the clatter of silverware, Avni sat in a daze, replaying her morning embarrassment.
"I’ve been invited to the Malhotras' anniversary party," Vivek announced, breaking her trance. "I won't be home for dinner."
"Oh," Avni said, clearing her throat. "Divyansh and I are going to that as well."
"Perfect," Ridha smiled. "You can all go together."
Vivek shook his head, a knowing glint in his eye. "No, Ma. I’ll head there straight from my chambers. These two can go on their own. I have no interest in being a third wheel to the newlyweds."
Divyansh grinned, catching Avni’s eye. "Bhai’s right. I’ll come home first, and then Ani and I will leave together."
With the plans set, the house slowly emptied, leaving behind only the lingering scent of coffee and the quiet hum of a morning that had changed everything.
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