The golden light of the evening spilled through the window, bathing the room in a soft glow. Rihaan sat on the edge of the bed, his feet swinging ever so slightly, eyes gleaming with excitement. The innocence in his features made him look untouched by the weight of the world, but Ananya knew—there were shadows behind that childlike joy, shadows that whispered of forgotten cries and unseen wounds.
His fingers toyed with the hem of his sleeve as he looked at her with wide, expectant eyes.
“Anya,” he said, stretching out her name like a child seeking permission. “Can I come to the birthday party too?”
She arched an eyebrow, folding her arms across her chest, mischief dancing in her gaze.
“Hmmm, I don’t know,” she teased, tapping a finger against her chin. “Won’t your bears miss you? How will they sleep without your bedtime stories?”
His expression shifted instantly—serious, troubled. His brows furrowed in genuine concern as he nibbled on his lower lip, eyes darting to the bedside where his collection of stuffed toys sat, neatly arranged in their usual places.
Ananya’s heart melted at the sight of him, the way he still carried fragments of his lost childhood within him, the way he nurtured warmth in places that had once only known cold. She had seen him cradle his bears in his arms, whispering stories of magical lands and grand adventures as if they were his most precious audience.
He let out a small hum, lost in deep thought. Then, almost excitedly, he said, “The kids are having a sleepover so they don’t need my storytelling tonight.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, his eyes widened, realization hitting him like a splash of cold water. He turned to Ananya, his lips parting in horror.
“Anya, no! That was a secret! I wasn’t supposed to tell you!” He gasped dramatically, covering his mouth with both hands, muffling the rest of his distressed words.
Ananya chuckled, walking over to him, her eyes glinting with amusement. “Oh no, what should I do now?” she played along, her tone exaggerated. “Should I tell them that their secret is out?”
Rihaan jumped to his feet, shaking his head furiously, his dark curls bouncing with the motion. “Nooo! Please, Anya, promise you won’t tell them! I don’t want them to be sad.”
His lower lip jutted out in a pout, his large, pleading eyes locking onto hers. The sheer sincerity in them had the power to crumble the strongest of walls.
She sighed dramatically, placing a hand on her hip. “Fine, fine. I won’t tell them,” she said, unable to stop the smile tugging at her lips.
Rihaan’s face instantly lit up like a festival of lights. “Thank you, Anya!” he beamed, throwing his arms around her in a sudden embrace. It lasted only for a few seconds before he pulled away, his excitement bubbling again. “Now I have to get ready for the party!”
Ananya nodded, watching as he dashed towards the bathroom. He had gotten better at doing things on his own now—at least, he was trying. The knowledge warmed her heart.
She returned to the vanity, carefully applying soft touches of makeup, letting her mind wander. He doesn’t want responsibilities or expectations? Her thoughts echoed Mrs. Mehra’s words, but something about them didn’t sit right with her. Then why does he care so much about the kids? Why does he take their little secrets so seriously? Why does he cradle them in the warmth of his love, as if shielding them from the world he himself is afraid of?
The sound of the bathroom door opening pulled her out of her thoughts.
Rihaan stepped out, a white towel wrapped loosely around his waist, his damp hair falling messily over his forehead. Droplets of water traced paths down his toned chest, catching the dim light like liquid diamonds. His skin glowed, kissed by the lingering warmth of the shower.
Ananya felt her breath hitch.
Her stomach twisted with something unfamiliar, something forbidden. Butterflies erupted within her, restless and wild.
Why? Why now?
They had been married for almost five years. She had spent countless moments beside him, holding his hand through his fears, his breakdowns, his laughter. Then why—why was her heart beating so fast?
She quickly averted her gaze, trying to suppress the warmth spreading through her cheeks.
Rihaan, oblivious to her turmoil, smiled as he walked toward her, casual and unbothered. He made no move to grab his clothes, instead stretching his arms above his head, the muscles in his stomach flexing slightly with the movement.
Ananya swallowed thickly.
Without another thought, she grabbed an outfit from the wardrobe and practically shoved it into his hands. “Here. Wear this.”
Rihaan blinked at her, tilting his head in confusion. “Okay,” he said, taking the clothes.
He turned slightly, about to change right there, but Ananya panicked, quickly placing a hand on his arm.
“Wait! Go—go change in the walk-in wardrobe.”
Rihaan blinked again, his brows knitting together. “Why?”
Her face burned. “Just do it, Rihaan.”
He didn’t understand, but he obeyed. She let out a sigh of relief once he disappeared into the wardrobe, placing a hand over her chest to calm the wild hammering of her heart.
Get yourself together, Ananya.
She returned to the vanity, forcing herself to focus on fixing her makeup.
Minutes passed in silence. Then—
The door to the walk-in wardrobe creaked open, and Rihaan stepped out.
Ananya looked up, her eyes meeting his reflection in the mirror.
Her breath caught in her throat.
He stood there, his tie hanging loosely around his collar, damp hair tousled like a perfect mess. His shirt was buttoned all wrong—crooked, uneven, the top few buttons left undone, revealing the sharp line of his collarbones. He pouted slightly, as if confused by the fabric tangled around him.
And yet—
She couldn’t look away.
There was something breathtaking about him. Something effortless. Something that made her stomach twist all over again.
He blinked at her through the mirror, his lips parting. “Anya,” he whined slightly.
She snapped out of her trance, her heart racing. “Yes, Rihaan?”
He stepped closer, standing right beside her now, his presence warm and familiar. “I can’t do the buttons and the tie,” he admitted, his voice small, sheepish.
Ananya exhaled slowly, turning to him. “Alright. Let me do it.”
He nodded, standing perfectly still as she reached for the buttons.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she worked, the tips brushing against his warm skin. He didn’t flinch—he simply watched her, his eyes soft with innocent affection.
He rested his hands lightly on either side of her waist, not in a way that would raise questions, not in a way that held intent. Just an innocent gesture.
But for Ananya—
It felt like a wildfire had been ignited beneath her skin.
She swallowed hard, quickly finishing with the buttons before moving to his tie. Her fingers brushed against the soft fabric as she tightened it around his collar, fixing it properly.
Once done, she took a step back, needing the distance to breathe.
Rihaan tilted his head, his dark eyes gleaming with curiosity. "How do I look?" he asked, his voice carrying the innocence of a child seeking approval.
Ananya found herself speechless.
He stood before her, now properly dressed, the messy disarray of his earlier appearance now replaced by a breathtaking elegance. The shirt she had just buttoned fit him perfectly, accentuating his broad shoulders. The tie she had fixed sat neatly against his chest, adding a sophisticated touch to his usual carefree aura. His damp hair, though slightly tousled, only made him look even more effortlessly handsome.
The dim golden light in the room cast a soft glow on him, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw, the depth of his eyes, the warmth of his expression. There was something almost unreal about him at that moment—like a portrait painted by an artist who had poured every ounce of love into each brushstroke.
Her heart stumbled.
Why does he look like this? Why does he look like—like a dream standing in front of me?
She parted her lips to answer, but no words came out.
Rihaan’s eyes flickered with slight nervousness as he noticed her staring, unmoving. He shifted slightly on his feet, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his sleeves. "Anya?" he called softly, his voice laced with hesitant curiosity.
She blinked rapidly, breaking free from whatever spell he had unknowingly cast upon her.
Clearing her throat, she forced her voice to be steady, to not betray the wild drumming of her heart. “You…” she started, then stopped, because no word felt enough to capture what she was feeling.
Rihaan tilted his head further, his gaze filled with pure expectation.
She swallowed.
Then, with all the love, all the warmth swelling in her chest, she whispered, "You look breathtaking, Rihaan."
The moment the words left her lips, she saw it—the way his eyes widened just a fraction, the way his ears turned slightly pink, the way he glanced down for a second, his fingers curling slightly as if trying to contain something too big for his heart to hold.
His lips parted, and then, after a long pause, he whispered back, "Really?"
Ananya’s smile softened, her eyes holding nothing but sincerity. "Really," she reassured.
Rihaan let out a soft, almost disbelieving chuckle. His fingers reached up, touching the tie she had just fixed, his brows slightly furrowed as if trying to understand something. "I never thought…" He trailed off, then let out a small giggle. "You think I look breathtaking, Anya?"
The way he said it—the sheer joy laced in his voice, the innocent delight dancing in his eyes—made her chest ache with something she couldn’t quite name.
She chuckled, shaking her head lightly. "Yes, I do."
He suddenly grinned, looking like a child who had just been praised for something incredibly important. "Then…" He held his arms out. "Hug?"
Her breath hitched. Oh God.
He had hugged her countless times before. It had always been natural, a part of who he was—a boy trapped in a man’s body, seeking warmth in the simplest of gestures. But tonight… tonight, something was different.
It wasn’t in his voice, nor in his request.
It was in her.
It was in the way her heart skipped a beat before she could answer, in the way her fingers curled slightly at her sides, in the way she hesitated—for the first time ever.
But Rihaan didn’t notice. His smile remained bright, expectant, innocent.
And how could she ever deny him?
Slowly, she stepped forward, closing the distance between them. His arms wrapped around her instantly, the warmth of his embrace spreading through her like the first touch of sunlight on a winter morning.
He nuzzled into her shoulder slightly, sighing contentedly. "Thank you, Anya," he murmured.
"For what?" she asked, her voice quieter than before.
"For making me look breathtaking," he giggled, tightening his hold around her.
She let out a soft breath, unable to stop the small smile forming on her lips. "You were already breathtaking, Rihaan," she whispered, not even sure if she wanted him to hear it.
But he did.
And for a long, quiet moment, he didn’t say anything.
His hold around her loosened slightly, and he pulled back just enough to look at her. His dark eyes searched hers—soft, warm, so full of something unspoken.
Her pulse quickened under his gaze.
Then, out of nowhere, his lips curled into a bright, heart-melting smile. "I love you, Anya," he said, as easily, as effortlessly as he always did.
Her breath caught.
She had heard those words from him a thousand times before. She had always smiled, always responded with the same gentle affection.
But tonight…
Tonight, for some reason, they felt different.
Because tonight, for the first time in years—
She didn’t just hear them.
She felt them.
And that terrified her.
Quickly, she stepped back, letting out a small, nervous chuckle. "Okay, okay, we need to get going before we’re late," she said, brushing past him towards the wardrobe.
She needed space. She needed air. She needed—
She didn’t know what she needed.
But she knew that if she stayed too close to him for too long, she wouldn’t be able to hide from the feelings creeping into her heart.
She grabbed a dress, slipped into it, and fixed her makeup in record time, all the while trying to slow the erratic beating of her heart.
When she finally walked back Rihaan was already waiting near the door, his hands clasped together, rocking slightly on his feet.
The moment he saw her, his entire face lit up, as if the sight of her was enough to make his world brighter.
Ananya’s stomach twisted.
He didn’t even have to say anything. The way he looked at her was enough. Enough to make her feel beautiful. Enough to make her heart ache.
Still, she mustered a teasing smile, trying to mask the warmth blooming in her chest. "How do I look?"
Rihaan tilted his head, eyes twinkling as he stared at her. At her dress, at her hair, at her face—like he was trying to memorize everything about her in this moment.
Then, with the purest, most innocent sincerity, he said—
"You look like the prettiest story ever told, Anya."
Ananya's breath hitched.
Rihaan smiled, his face lighting up like the night sky bursting into fireworks. "Like the stories I tell my bears! But better—way better!" He waved his hands excitedly, trying to explain. "Because you’re not just a story, Anya! You’re like the most beautiful dream ever. The kind that makes you feel warm and happy even after waking up!"
Ananya’s heart twisted, her fingers trembling slightly at her sides.
He wasn’t done.
"You look like the first bite of chocolate cake," he continued, his voice filled with wonder. "Like when it's soft and sweet and melts in your mouth, and you close your eyes ‘cause it tastes so good!" He giggled, then tilted his head again, thinking harder. "Or—or like sunshine on a rainy day! When everything is cold and sad, but then the sun peeks out, and everything feels warm again!"
Ananya could feel the warmth spreading across her chest, creeping up her neck, reaching her ears.
Rihaan grinned even wider, completely oblivious to the effect his words had on her. "And you smell nice too!" He took a small step closer, his nose scrunching slightly as he inhaled. "Like flowers but also like home! Like soft blankets and bedtime stories and when you hug me after a long day!"
Ananya swallowed, her lips parting slightly, but no words came out.
Rihaan simply stared at her with the same innocent affection he always had. "You look like… like…" He suddenly fumbled, struggling to find the perfect words. His brows furrowed in concentration, and then, finally, he let out a soft, contented sigh.
"You look like everything that makes my heart happy."
And just like that, Ananya’s heart didn’t just skip a beat—
It completely forgot how to function.
*****
The grand venue of Mr. Kaushik’s birthday celebration stood tall, adorned in golden lights that cascaded over its ivory walls like liquid fire. The entrance was bustling with people—men in tailored suits and women draped in silk, their laughter weaving through the crisp evening air.
Ananya stepped out of the car, smoothing down the fabric of her elegant gown, her gaze flickering to Rihaan, who was eagerly looking around like a child stepping into a magical kingdom. His wide eyes sparkled beneath the golden chandeliers as he clung onto her arm.
“Anya, look! It’s so big,” he whispered, awestruck.
She smiled, ruffling his hair affectionately. “It is, isn’t it? Now come on, let’s behave, alright?”
He nodded earnestly, his fingers gripping hers as they walked inside.
Just as they entered, they were met with the warm smiles of Mahira’s parents—Mr. and Mrs. Malhotra, a couple Ananya had always respected.
“Ananya, dear!” Mrs. Malhotra greeted, her eyes lighting up with delight. “It’s so lovely to see you here.”
Ananya greeted them politely, exchanging pleasantries before raising an eyebrow. “I was confused when I heard Mahira wasn’t coming to the party, considering you were friends with Mr. Kaushik.”
Mrs. Malhotra chuckled softly. “Oh, Mahira’s enjoying herself with Dev.”
Her husband added with a proud smile, “That boy is such a gentleman. Really passionate about his work… and Mahira too.”
Ananya smirked knowingly. “Oh, I’m well aware of that.”
They laughed in response, and Rihaan, who had been listening curiously, suddenly spoke up. “Anya…”
She turned to him. “Hmm?”
“I’m hungry.”
The Malhotras chuckled at his innocent confession, his big, expectant eyes making him look even more endearing. Mrs. Malhotra gently patted his shoulder. “Then you should go and eat lots of tasty dishes, beta. This party has everything you’ll love.”
Rihaan beamed, his grip tightening on Ananya’s wrist as he pulled her towards the food section with excitement.
Ananya let him lead her, an amused smile curving her lips.
*****
The buffet stretched endlessly, a masterpiece of colors and fragrances—steaming noodles, rich curries, golden pastries, and vibrant desserts lined up like a festival of flavors. But Rihaan’s eyes fixated on one thing first.
Chocolate cake.
His face lit up as he carefully took a plate and placed a generous slice of cake on it, followed by a heap of noodles and some other dishes he loved. He carried the plate like it was a treasure, plopping down onto the nearest chair.
Ananya sat beside him, resting her chin on her hand as she watched him eat with unfiltered joy. His cheeks puffed slightly as he chewed, his eyes crinkling in pure satisfaction.
She exhaled softly, her heart warming.
Oblivious to her affectionate gaze, Rihaan took another bite of the chocolate cake, only to pause mid-chew. He turned towards her, noticing how her eyes were lingering on his plate.
His brows furrowed in concern. “Anya… do you want some?”
She blinked. “Hmm?”
He innocently scooped a forkful of cake and held it up to her lips. “Here.”
Ananya chuckled, shaking her head. “No, Rihaan, you eat—”
“But you were staring,” he pointed out earnestly. “I know you want it.”
She laughed softly before leaning forward and taking the bite from his fork. The rich, velvety sweetness melted on her tongue, but the warmth that bloomed in her chest was even sweeter.
She ruffled his hair. “Thank you, Rihaan.”
He grinned, proud of himself, before returning to his food.
As Rihaan continued to eat happily, Mr. Kaushik himself approached them with a warm smile.
“Ah, Ananya, it’s a pleasure to see you here,” he greeted, shaking her hand. “And this must be the famous Rihaan I’ve heard so much about.”
Rihaan looked up from his plate and grinned. “Hello!”
Mr. Kaushik chuckled. “Hello, young man. Enjoying the food?”
Rihaan nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! The chocolate cake is the best.”
The elderly businessman let out a hearty laugh. “I’ll let the chef know that’s the highest praise we’ve received tonight.”
Ananya smirked. “You should. Rihaan has a very refined taste.”
They talked for a while, exchanging pleasantries and teasing Rihaan, who responded with the same innocent enthusiasm that made everyone around him smile. Mr. Kaushik eventually expressed his gratitude for Ananya’s presence, his admiration for her company, and his hopes for future collaborations before excusing himself.
Time passed as the event continued, laughter and conversations filling the air.
Rihaan, having eaten his fill, sat beside Ananya, his fingers absentmindedly tracing over hers, playing with her nails. His expression was calm, almost bored, as his thumb ran lightly over her painted nails, tracing their shape with a childlike fascination.
Ananya didn’t react, but her heart fluttered inside her chest. The simple, innocent touch sent waves of warmth through her, making her stomach feel light. She exhaled softly, keeping her expression neutral even as she felt her cheeks heat.
Then, the speech began.
Mr. Kaushik took center stage, microphone in hand, addressing the guests with his usual charm.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for being here today to celebrate my son’s birthday.” His voice carried through the room, full of warmth and pride. “As you all know, my son has spent most of his life enjoying his youth, and I have always encouraged him to do so. After all, life should not just be about responsibilities.”
A soft chuckle rippled through the audience.
“But,” he continued, his tone shifting slightly, “my son has recently made a decision—one that I greatly respect. He has decided that he is ready to take on responsibilities, to step into the world of business, and to continue our family’s legacy.”
A round of applause echoed through the hall.
“And so, on his birthday, I take great pleasure in announcing that in two months, my son will officially take over as the CEO of Kaushik Industries.”
Another wave of applause.
Mr. Kaushik turned, gesturing toward someone offstage.
“Ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce you to the next CEO of Kaushik Industries—KARAN KAUSHIK.”
A round of applause erupted.
But Ananya felt something shift beside her.
Rihaan’s grip on Ananya’s hand tightened—painfully so.
She flinched. “Rihaan?”
His entire body had gone rigid, his breathing suddenly sharp and unsteady. His fingers, once playfully tracing her nails, were now trembling against her skin. His eyes—wide, unblinking—were fixated ahead, but not at Mr. Kaushik. Not at anything.
He was looking through the world.
A sharp pang of worry shot through Ananya’s chest.
“Rihaan,” she whispered, her voice careful, controlled. She tugged on his hand gently. “What’s wrong?”
No response.
The air around them thickened, pressing down on her lungs. The sounds of the party—the laughter, the clinking glasses, the murmurs—blurred into an indistinct hum.
His breath came in short, panicked bursts, his chest rising and falling too fast, too erratic.
Then, barely audible—
“…Anya…”
His voice. Small. Weak. Not his usual soft, innocent tone—this was something else. Something fractured.
“…help me… please…”
Her stomach twisted.
Rihaan’s hand was freezing, but his body burned as if he had been tossed into a fever. A fine layer of sweat formed along his temple, his lips parted, whispering something she couldn’t quite catch.
Ananya’s heart pounded.
She didn’t think—she acted.
She grasped his wrist tightly, pulling him to his feet. “Rihaan, let’s go.”
He didn’t move.
His feet felt glued to the floor, his entire body unresponsive.
A flicker of panic flared in her chest.
No, no, no, he needs to move—
She took both his hands, pressing them between hers, her voice unwavering despite the fear bubbling inside her. “Rihaan, look at me.”
His eyes darted to her, but he wasn’t seeing her.
It was like he was drowning.
Ananya’s breath hitched.
She stepped closer, shielding him from the curious glances around them, from the crowd that would only suffocate him further. “We’re leaving,” she murmured. “Hold onto me.”
His fingers clutched onto hers instinctively, and she wasted no time, guiding him away.
Through the crowd.
Through the golden-lit corridors.
Away.
*****
By the time they reached the car, Rihaan was barely walking. His body swayed, his grip loose, his breath too shallow.
Ananya threw open the car door and pulled him inside.
The moment she sat, Rihaan curled into her, his arms wrapping around her waist as he buried his face against her shoulder.
A deep, shuddering inhale.
Then another.
But his trembling didn’t stop.
She felt it against her body, the way his muscles tensed as if he was bracing himself for something horrible.
“Anya…”
His voice was so broken, so raw, that something inside her cracked.
“I’m here,” she whispered. “I’m here, Rihaan.”
She didn’t know what to do.
She held him. That’s all she could do.
One arm wrapped securely around his shoulders, the other cradling the back of his head. Her fingers wove through his hair, stroking softly, soothingly.
His grip on her tightened.
He was shaking.
He was scared.
The realization hit her like a punch to the gut.
Rihaan—who had always been so full of wonder, so untouched by the world’s cruelty—was afraid.
Her Rihaan.
Ananya shut her eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply. She couldn’t panic. Not now.
Instead, she spoke.
“You’re okay,” she whispered. “You’re safe. No one will hurt you.”
His breath hitched.
A barely audible whimper escaped his lips.
Her arms tightened around him. “I promise, Rihaan. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Slowly, his breathing evened. Not completely—his body still trembled against hers, but the erratic gasps softened into slow, shaky inhales.
Ananya exhaled.
Her hand trailed down his back in soothing circles, her fingers brushing against the fabric of his suit. “It’s okay,” she murmured again. “I’m here.”
Minutes passed.
The world outside the car continued—distant music, muffled conversations, the occasional honk of a car driving past. But inside, time slowed, wrapped in the quiet sanctuary of their embrace.
Rihaan had stopped shaking, but he hadn’t let go.
Ananya didn’t mind.
She didn't let go.
Didn’t move.
Didn’t loosen her hold even when his breathing steadied, even when the tension left his body, even when he finally let his eyes flutter shut against her shoulder.
Because even though the panic had passed—
He was still holding onto her like she was the only thing keeping him from falling apart.
And maybe she was.
Her mind raced.
Why?
Why had he reacted like that?
What had terrified him so much?
Her brows furrowed.
It wasn’t the crowd—he was used to people. It wasn’t the speech—he hadn’t even been listening properly.
Then what—
Her eyes flickered with realization.
When did he start shaking?
She traced the moment back in her mind.
Mr. Kaushik’s announcement.
His son’s name.
Karan Kaushik.
Ananya’s breath caught.
Could it be—?
She glanced at Rihaan, who was still clinging onto her, still seeking comfort.
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