Raj Mittal was seated in his office when his assistant rushed in.

“Sir…”

Raj didn’t look up. “What?”

“Sir, it seems someone is keeping an eye on us.”

Now Raj looked up.

“Oh?” His voice was calm. “And who has the courage to do that?”

The assistant hesitated. “It’s not confirmed yet. But I suspect—”

Raj cut him off sharply.

“Come to me with facts. Not guesses.”

“Yes, sir.”

The assistant left immediately.

Raj leaned back in his chair.

His eyes darkened.

Could it be Siya?

He tapped his fingers slowly on the armrest.

No… she doesn’t have that kind of reach.

A pause.

Not yet.

He picked up his phone and dialed Akhil.

“If someone is digging into us,” he said calmly once the call connected, “I want to know who.”

His voice turned colder.

“Before they find something.”

Later that night, Aarav returned home.

After dinner, he walked into their room.

Siya was packing her dresses into a suitcase.

He leaned against the door.

“Hey. Will you pack mine too?”

She didn’t even look at him.

“I don’t have time. Do your own work.”

He smiled. “Fine.”

He started packing his clothes beside her.

After a moment, he paused.

“Wait. I have something for you.”

She sighed. “What now?”

He brought a shopping bag and handed it to her.

She took it reluctantly.

“What is it?”

“Open it.”

She pulled out a box.

Opened it.

And froze.

Inside—

Her favorite Valentino heels.

Not random.

The exact design she had once admired.

“Do you like it?” he asked casually.

She didn’t answer.

She placed the box aside.

“Won’t you take these for the wedding?” he asked softly.

She avoided his eyes.

“They’re too high.”

He sighed lightly. “At least say thank you.”

She turned to him.

“I didn’t ask you to buy heels for me.”

He shook his head with a faint smile.

“You will never change.”

his phone buzzed.

He glanced at the screen and stepped out to answer it.

The room went quiet.

Siya slowly looked at the box again.

Her fingers brushed over the heels.

A small smile appeared on her lips.

Unconscious.

Soft.

Then she stopped herself.

“Why am I smiling?”

She quickly looked away.

Ignored it.

But deep down—

She felt something she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in a long time.

Lightness.

And that scared her more than anger ever did.

Aarav returned to the room quietly.

Siya was already asleep.

He walked closer and sat beside her.

The pillows were still placed between them.

A silent wall.

So close—

Yet so far.

For a few moments, he just looked at her.

Her face was calm, but he knew her mind was never truly at rest.

He sighed softly and lay down on his side of the bed.

After some time, he fell asleep too.

Next Morning

Siya woke up first.

She stirred slightly—

And found him already looking at her.

“Be ready,” he said calmly. “We’ll leave in an hour.”

She nodded. “Fine.”

She took her clothes and went to shower.

When she came out, her hair was still damp, falling softly over her shoulders.

Aarav was sitting on the couch, going through some documents.

He looked up.

And paused.

She stood before the mirror, combing her hair slowly.

The morning light made her look softer than usual.

She reached for the small box of vermillion.

Just as she was about to apply it—

He stood up.

Walked toward her.

Gently held her wrist.

She looked at him, surprised.

Without saying a word, he took the vermillion from her hand.

His fingers moved slowly—

Carefully—

As he filled her hairline himself.

The red line glowed against her skin.

She stared at him.

Her heart skipped.

He looked into her eyes and said softly,

“When I’m here… you don’t have to do this alone.”

Silence.

Heavy.

Intimate.

Her breath felt uneven.

But she didn’t respond.

She simply turned past him and started walking toward the door.

He followed behind her.

Neither spoke.

But something had shifted.

Not the distance.

Not yet.

But the silence between them no longer felt empty

They reached the car.

Aarav opened the door for her.

She ignored the gesture and got inside without looking at him.

The drive was silent at first.

Too silent.

Finally—

“Why do you keep doing that?” she asked suddenly.

He glanced at her. “Doing what?”

“Acting like everything is normal.”

He frowned slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She turned toward him now.

“The vermillion. The care. The concern. The gifts. Stop pretending.”

His grip tightened on the steering wheel.

“I’m not pretending.”

“Yes, you are!” she snapped. “You think filling my hairline makes us husband and wife?”

He exhaled sharply. “We are husband and wife.”

She laughed bitterly.

“On paper.”

He stopped the car abruptly at the side of the road.

Silence filled the air.

He turned to her fully now.

“What do you want from me, Siya?”

“I want honesty!” she said, eyes burning. “Before marriage, you never trusted me. You never stood for me. And now suddenly you act like you’ve always cared?”

“That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” Her voice shook slightly, but not with weakness — with anger.

“You think I forgot how you doubted me? How you chose silence over support?”

His jaw tightened.

“And you think I don’t regret it?” he shot back.

That made her pause.

But only for a second.

“Regret doesn’t erase humiliation.”

He ran a hand through his hair.

“I was wrong. I admit it. But how long will you punish me for it?”

“I’m not punishing you,” she said coldly. “I’m protecting myself.”

He looked at her, hurt flashing across his face.

“From me?”

“Yes.”

That word hit harder than anything else.

He looked away for a moment.

Then back at her.

“You think I would ever hurt you now?”

She didn’t answer.

That silence was louder than words.

He spoke again, softer but intense.

“You don’t trust me.”

She replied just as softly.

“I don’t trust anyone.”

That was the truth.

And it sat heavy between them.

After a long pause, he started the car again.

“You can fight the world,” he said quietly. “But don’t fight me too.”

She looked out the window.

“I’m not fighting you,” she whispered.

“I just don’t know how to stand beside you.”

And that hurt him more than anger ever could.