Page 81 of Mrs. Rathore

Yes, Aryan had his flaws: a sharp tongue, and a fierce pride. But beneath it all was a heart that was kind, loyal, and generous.

Just not for me.

I stared at him as he continued talking to Ira, his eyes glowing in a way I had never seen directed at me. And there it was again. It was sharp, and an unwelcome ache in my chest. I shouldn't feel this way. I wouldn't let myself.

Because I never wanted to be the second woman... not when Aryan already had his first.

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Chapter 30

ARYAN

She thought I was angry because Grandma had scolded me, but that wasn’t entirely it. I was worried about her, though I would never admit it aloud. I was mad because I believed she had pulled that reckless stunt to humiliate me in front of my family. What if something bad happened to her? What if she had drowned? Then what? I’d probably be blamed. Hell, I could end up in prison.

I still didn’t like Avni, and maybe I never would.

I glanced at her. She stared out the car window, a faint smile curving her lips as if the world beyond the glass amused her in ways I could never understand. Sometimes she was too calm, almost detached, and other times she was far too nosy. I didn’t like either version of her. She was unpredictable, and unpredictability put me on edge.

I couldn’t help comparing her to Ira.

Ira was composed, sophisticated, and quiet. She only spoke when it mattered and smiled when it was appropriate. She kept her emotions locked behind a wall she let only me peek behind. Her strength lay in her restraint. Whether it was love or anger, she viewed both as vulnerabilities and refused to show weakness. She saved her softest parts for me, for us.

We’d been together for over a decade, but I’d never spent this much time with her as I was now forced to spend with Avni.

I met Ira in school during our final year. At sixteen, I cleared the army entrance exams and got selected for officer training. By seventeen, I was off to the National Defence Academy. There was barely time for letters, let alone real conversations. Then Ira joined the army too, and everything became harder. When you’re both in the military, stationed in different corners of the country, finding time for each other becomes a rare luxury.

Whatever leave I got, I tried to spend it with Ira. But that was only possible if her leave matched mine, which it rarely did. And now, here I was, in a forced marriage, spending an entire month with a woman I barely knew and didn’t want to know.

I hated the way Avni looked at me, as if she was always trying to figure me out. I hated how she flinched when I came too close and recoiled from my touch. Yet, I hated even more how easily she ignored me. To be fair, I had been ignoring her too. Ever since she pulled that stunt with Ira, I’d kept my distance.

Still, when she admitted she was wrong, I respected that. I liked that.

I didn’t like many things about her, but that moment when she acknowledged her mistake stayed with me. There’s something to be said for people who own their faults. The army didn’t just teach us to fight; it taught us how to fall, how to admit failure, and how to rise stronger. Owning your mistakes isn't a weakness; it’s discipline. It’s strength in its truest form.

If Avni hadn’t accepted her fault, I would’ve written her off entirely. Not that I liked her now, no, I didn’t. I told myself that firmly.

I looked at her again. She was quietly counting the trees we passed on the roadside, lost in her own world. We had just had a decent conversation a few minutes ago, surprisingly pleasant until Ira called me. Avni had withdrawn after that, retreating into herself like she always did when Ira’s name came up.

Oddly, I wanted her to stay. To talk more. A part of me wanted to know what made her tick. I even wanted to ask how her leg was doing, if she was still in pain after falling into the water. I hadn’t asked. Maybe because I didn’t want to care.

But maybe I already did.

I sighed and turned my eyes back to the road. The silence stretched between us, it was not heavy like before, but uncertain. It felt like we were both standing on unfamiliar ground, unsure of the next step. Maybe it had been easier when we were arguing. At least then, we knew our roles.

I didn’t like her. That much hadn’t changed. But I didn’t hate her anymore either. Not like I used to.

Maybe it was because she wasn’t pretending anymore. Perhaps it was because she had stopped constantly challenging me. Or maybe I was beginning to see the cracks beneath her stubborn exterior. Once you see someone’s wounds, it becomes a lot harder to hate them.

Ira never showed me hers.

She was a fortress with cold, and impenetrable walls. I used to admire that. Her strength, her discipline, her mystery. She never cried, never faltered. In her world, emotions were weaknesses, anger, love, sadness, they all tucked neatly away behind duty anddignity. She let me in sometimes, but even then, it was through a guarded door.

But sitting next to Avni now, I couldn’t help but wonder what it might be like to be with someone who didn’t hide behind armor all the time.

No. I wasn’t going there.

This wasn’t some fairytale. There was no happy ending waiting around the bend. I had responsibilities, a deal I didn’t ask for, a life that wasn’t entirely mine. Avni was just… part of it.

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