Page 58 of Protect my Heart
“Don’t say stuff like that, Aarav,” I whisper.
“Why not?”
“Because I’ll start believing you.”
His fingers curl around mine. And I let them. We don’t say anything else after that. But we don’t really need to. Something’s shifted. And I have no idea what will happen next.
CHAPTER 36
ANIKA
I haven’t stopped thinking about that night.
It’s been three days since Aarav walked out of the shower with nothing but a towel and a smirk that has permanently branded itself into my frontal lobe. Three days since he leaned over me like a scene out of a fever dream and said those four stupid words:“But you are, Anika.”
And I hate it.
Not the moment itself. That was... fine. Nice, even. Too nice. But the after part—the echo of it, the way my brain keeps replaying his voice, his expression, the warmth of his fingers curling around mine like it was the most natural thing in the world? That’s the part I hate.
Because I don’t know what to do with it.
Because he’s been saying things since. Not outright romantic, nothing you could really call a confession, but small, offhand comments that land like grenades in my chest. Like when he handed me a cup of tea yesterday and casually said, “Made it how you like it.” Or this morning, when he saw me shivering in the living room and dropped a hoodie onto my lapwithout a word. “Thought you were cold,” he said, like he hadn’t just handed me a weapon of emotional mass destruction.
And then hesmiled.
A tiny, barely-there smile that wrecked my whole equilibrium.
I hate that it’s working. I hate that I’m unraveling like some stupid ball of yarn just because he’s being... soft.
Ugh.
To make things worse—or better, depending on how I look at it—it’s a long weekend. Holi’s coming up next week, and Aditi decided it was the perfect time for a little family trip to the farmhouse. A break, she called it. After everything that’s been happening.
I didn’t argue. I mean, I wanted to. I wanted to say no, that being in close quarters with Aarav while my brain’s on a romance loop is not my idea of a break. I mean, I do share a room with him, but at home I only have to think about ways of avoiding him during the night, which is fairly easy; I just pretend to sleep. But here he will be beside me almost always. Aditi made herpuppy-eyesface, and Maa looked so excited, and everyone else jumped on the plan like it was some kind of therapy retreat.
So now I’m here.
At the farmhouse.
In Aarav’s orbit again, pretending I’m fine.
The Malhotras have always had multiple properties; I used to spend a lot of time in their garden during childhood, but this is my first time visiting their farmhouse. It’s exquisite, ablend of modern and traditional architecture. But what's the use of this beauty if all I can think about is him?
The sky is overcast, the promise of rain hanging heavy in the air. Global warming is dangerous. March and rain? I step outside, the cool breeze brushing against my skin, and look up just as the first drops begin to fall. There’s something magical about the rain, something that always draws me in.
I hear footsteps behind me and turn back to find him walking towards me. Great. Just what I need.
“You won’t dance?” He asks as he leans to the other pillar, his hands in his pocket, but his veiny arms are on full display. Man, that’s so unfair.
“I’ll fall sick,” I reply, my voice barely above a whisper.
He smirks. “Since when did you care?”
I glance away, memories flooding back of the early days of our marriage, of dancing in the rain and the inevitable cold that followed.
“Didn’t you say dancing in the rain is reckless?” His face falls a bit, and then realization draws in; he pushes off the pillar and comes closer to me. I hold my breath and clench my fist to not let the nearness make me spiral.
His fingers run against my jaw like a breeze as he whispers, “You can be reckless around me.”
