(Priya’s POV)
I’ve been glancing at the clock every few minutes, waiting for Aarav sir to return like he promised. My fingers fidget with the bedsheet, ears tuned to every sound in the corridor. When the door finally opens, my heart lifts — but it’s not him.
It’s Ritvik Sir.
My little smile falters before I can stop it.
He notices instantly, a teasing smirk curling his lips.
“What happened? Not happy to see me? Or…” he pauses deliberately, “were you expecting some tall, rude guy instead?”
Before I can reply he walks in and takes the seat beside my bed, placing a bright bouquet of flowers in my hands.
“Get well soon,” he says warmly.
I hold the bouquet, inhaling the soft fragrance, and try to hide the flutter in my chest. “Thank you... these are very beautiful.,” I murmured, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear.
He chuckles softly. “Of course. But not as much as you are.”
I grin faintly, feeling a little warmth creep back.
Ritvik leans back in the chair, watching me with that easy, joking expression. “Hmm, you didn't answer… not happy to see me? Or were you expecting someone else?” he ask again.
I shake my head, trying to hide the truth that a part of me was expecting Aarav sir, not him. My lips curve into a small, polite smile. “Just… didn’t expect you, sir.”
He laughs lightly, reaching for a small glass of water on the bedside table and sipping it casually. The sound of his laughter fills the quiet room, and I find myself relaxing, forgetting for a brief moment about the chaos outside these walls.
I tuck the bouquet carefully on my lap, adjusting the flowers so they face me. “Thank you again. It’s really thoughtful of you.”
“You’re welcome,” he says, still smiling, “but don’t go thinking you get extra points for being polite. Just focus on getting better.”
I nod, glancing toward the door, almost unconsciously expecting it to swing open at any moment.
[Author’s POV]
After a few minutes. Aarav steps into the room and freezes for a moment. Priya is sitting up in bed, smiling and talking with Ritvik, and his gaze immediately falls on the flower bouquet resting in her lap. His chest tightens. ‘That motherfucker got to her first? He ruined my plan… my moment…Should I kill him too? No, he is my best friend.’
“Hi!” Ritvik greets casually, glancing at Aarav. “Where were you?”
“Some… important work,” Aarav replies coolly, striding to the couch on the right side of the room. He sets the bouquet he brought gently on the coffee table near the window, careful not to let his irritation show. Priya watches quietly, her eyes flicking between him and the flowers.
He turns toward Ritvik, voice sharp. “What are you doing here? Don’t you have work?”
Ritvik’s smirk widens, clearly sensing the tension. “What do you mean? Why am I here? Of course to see this beautiful goddess. And thank God I came at the right time, she was bored before I arrived, and now she’s smiling, right Priya?”
Priya gives a small, hesitant nod, eyes downcast, clearly nervous under Aarav’s stare.
Aarav clenches his teeth, the image of breaking the man’s leg flashing in his mind. So he will never do this again.
He exhales slowly, forcing a calm tone. “Now that I’m here, you can go.”
Ritvik raises an eyebrow, grinning mischievously as he rises, clearly enjoying the effect he had.
Ritvik chuckles under his breath, shaking his head as he straightens. “Alright, alright… I’ll leave you two alone,” he says, giving Aarav one last teasing look before heading toward the door. The smirk never leaves his face, clearly satisfied with the small chaos he’s stirred.
The door clicks shut behind him, leaving the room quiet except for Priya’s gentle breathing. Aarav turns to her, his gaze softening slightly as he notices how tense she looks, still holding the bouquet from before.
Aarav steps closer, hands brushing lightly over the table as he picks up the flowers. He moves toward Priya’s bed, leaning down just enough to pluck the bouquet Ritvik had given her from her lap. Without a word, he places his own bouquet carefully in her hands. Priya blinks, startled, her eyes wide as she watches the exchange.
Then, Aarav strides to the window, opens the windowsill, and with a swift motion, tosses Ritvik’s flowers out into the bright afternoon.
Priya gasps, her eyes widening even more. Aarav glances at her, raising an eyebrow. “Not smelling good enough?” he says dryly.
The bouquet arcs through the air and lands perfectly on Ritvik’s head outside, petals scattering. Ritvik looks up, eyes wide. “Hey! These are my flowers!” he shouts, his tone half-laughing, half-shocked.
Aarav leans casually against the windowsill, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Fucking jealous bastard, gaandu [Asshole],” Ritvik mutters, shaking his head as he watches Aarav inside, clearly defeated by the display of possessiveness.
The room is filled with a strange mix of amusement, tension, and his undeniable claim over her attention.
Aarav moves away from the window, the faint sound of the flowers hitting the ground outside still lingering in the air, and comes back to Priya. He sits on the edge of her bed, close enough for her to feel his presence, his eyes locked on her face.
“Do you like these flowers?” he asks, his voice low but steady.
Priya’s fingers graze the bouquet in her lap. In a whisper, almost as if speaking too loudly might break the fragile calm between them, she says, “ hmm, v...very beautiful.”
A small curve touches the corner of his lips. “Not more than you.”
Her head snaps up, startled by his words, her wide eyes meeting his.
“Did you call home?” he asks casually, though every muscle in him is alert, listening for the truth. He wants to know if she will tell him about what happened between her and her father.
Priya doesn’t meet his eyes. “No… I don’t want to stress Maa and Papa,” she says, her voice light, almost dismissive. But he doesn’t miss the subtle quiver in her tone or the faint trace of tears that glisten when she blinks at the mention of her father.
But before either of them can say more, the door opens. A nurse walks in with a tray of medicines, the faint clink of glass breaking the moment.
Aarav immediately rises, stepping aside to give her space, and takes a seat on the couch, his gaze still drifting toward Priya. As the nurse busies herself, his thoughts turn to something else.
[Flashback to warehouse]
And the stalker understands, with sickening clarity, that he doesn't have time for hiding things from this men.
“You know what I hate the most?” Aarav said while staring at the stalker, his voice soft, conversational. “When people think they can touch what’s mine without consequences.”
The man’s mouth opens, but before he can speak, Aarav grips the back of the chair and tilts it sharply forward, forcing the man to balance on two legs. The ropes bite into his wrists. His eyes go wide.
“You’ve got ten seconds,” Aarav says, his voice dropping to something darker. “After that, If you still don't speak up, I'll make your situation even worse than him.”
The man in the chair shifts under the ropes, his eyes flicking from Aarav to the private investigator standing behind him and then the dead body.
Thinking that he didn't want to suffer the same fate like the driver, he took a deep breath and started telling the truth.
“Alright! Alright!” the words spill out in a rush. “It’s someone from her village! I don’t know his name, but—”
Aarav’s eyes narrow, already piecing it together.
The man continues in a rush, desperate to appease him. “He said she’s his daughter. He paid me to watch her every move, report back. Said… said he doesn’t trust her in the city.”
Aarav steps back slowly, his face unreadable, but his silence is heavier than any threat.
Aarav’s eyes harden. A slow, humorless smile touches his lips as he crouches down to meet the man’s gaze. “I see.”
He leans closer, his voice low but loaded with venom. Aarav doesn’t blink. “Did you tell her father about it.. about the accident?”
The man’s voice trembles. “No… I didn’t get the chance. You… you got me before I could.”
For a long moment, Aarav just studies him, the silence heavier than any blow. Then, without a word, he straightens, the faint creak of leather from his shoes echoing in the empty room.
The stalker breaks.
“Sir—please,” he cries, his voice cracking, words tumbling over each other. “Please don’t kill me. I’ve told you everything. Please, sir—”
Aarav doesn’t respond.
He doesn’t even look at him.
He turns and walks toward the private eye. The distance is short, but every step carries a finality that makes the air feel heavier. He takes his blazer from the private eye’s hands with calm precision, draping it over his arm.
“Put the driver’s body in his truck,” Aarav says evenly. “Take it to the mountain gorge. It should look like an accident.”
The private eye nods once. No questions.
The stalker doesn’t hear the exchange. He’s too busy pleading, too trapped inside his own terror to notice that his fate has just been postponed.
Aarav slips into his blazer and walks past the door without a backward glance.
Outside, the air meets him like a blade.
Aarav stops beside his car. The rage that’s been coiled tight inside him finally snaps free. He swings his foot and kicks the tire hard, the dull impact echoing in the empty stretch around the warehouse.
“Her father,” he growls, the words thick with fury. “How dare he put a man behind her?”
His hands clench at his sides, veins standing out as his jaw locks.
“Fucking bastard,” he spits on the ground.
And saying this, he got into his car and drove towards the hospital.
Aarav exhales once but his eyes are already burning with intent. This anger isn’t fading.
It’s choosing a direction. [End of Flashback]
[Present Time]
Looking at Priya, Aarav promised himself that he would not let her father come between them.
His chest tightens. He leans back slightly and whispers to himself. “It’s okay,” he says. “I'm here for you, you don't need anyone else, I'm enough for you."
The nurse gently checks Priya’s vitals and smiles softly. “The medicine will make her drowsy soon,” she tells Aarav. “She’ll need some rest.”
Aarav nods, stepping closer. Carefully, he helps Priya lie down, adjusting her posture so she’s comfortable. He tucks the sheet around her shoulders, making sure she’s warm. Once she’s settled, he pulls a stool close to the bed and sits beside her, eyes fixed on her serene face as the medicine begins to take effect.
Slowly, her eyelids droop, and a soft, even breathing replaces the tension in her features. He reaches out and takes her hand in his, holding it gently, fingers brushing against hers. Aarav remains seated there, silent, watching over her with a mix of protectiveness and quiet affection.
The soft buzz of his phone pulls Aarav from his vigil. He glances at the screen and it's his mother. He swipes to answer, keeping his voice calm.
“Hello, beta! Where are you? I tried calling earlier,” she says, her voice warm but laced with concern.
“I’m fine, Ma. Just… a friend got into an accident. I come to check on him,” Aarav replies smoothly, his eyes flicking back to Priya, still sleeping.
“Oh… a friend?” she says, relief evident, though her tone carries a trace of worry. “Is he badly hurt? How is he?”
“He’s stable now. The doctors are looking after him. Nothing too serious,” Aarav reassures, keeping his voice steady.
“Beta, you should have told me immediately. I was worried sick! You never answer your phone on the first ring,” she chides lightly, though her affection shines through.
“I know, Ma. I’m sorry. It all happened quickly,” he says calmly, shifting slightly on the stool to keep a watchful eye on Priya without her noticing.
“Did you eat something? You’re always so focused on work or… whatever else you’re doing, you forget to eat,” she continues, worried in her voice now mixing with the motherly nagging he knows so well.
“I ate before I left. Don’t worry about me,” Aarav replies, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips.
She pauses, then adds softly, “Promise me you’ll be careful, beta. I don’t want to see you exhausted or hurt. You’re too important to me.”
“I promise, Ma,” he says, the weight of her concern settling on his chest. “I’ll be back soon.”
After a few more minutes of small talk he finally ends the call. Aarav sets his phone down, still holding Priya’s hand gently, his thoughts returning to her sleeping form, his protective gaze unbroken.
Aarav brought Priya's hand to his lips and planted a kiss on the back of her hand and whispered softly.
“I Love You”
Evening settles quietly in the hospital room.
The machines hum in a steady rhythm beside Priya’s bed. Her breathing is still shallow, fragile, but stable. Aarav stands there watching her chest rise and fall, his jaw tight with restraint.
The water jug is empty.
He hesitates for a second, then turns and walks out to refill it, his footsteps echoing softly down the corridor. Nurses pass by. A stretcher rolls past. Everything feels unbearably normal.
It takes less than two minutes.
When Aarav returns, the first thing he notices is that the room feels… different.
Occupied.
A man in a khaki uniform stands beside Priya’s bed, his back half-turned. A police officer. Middle-aged. Calm posture. A small notebook in his hand. Another constable waits just outside the door.
Aarav stops dead at the threshold.
The officer glances up and notices him.
Their eyes meet.
For half a second, nothing moves.
Then the officer speaks, professional and measured. “Are you a relative?”
Aarav steps into the room slowly, setting the water jug down with deliberate care. His face is composed, but something sharp flickers behind his eyes.
“Yes,” he replies. “I’m with her.”
The officer nods once, eyes returning briefly to Priya—her bandaged arm, the monitors, the stillness. “I’m Inspector Rao. We’re following up on the accident.”
Aarav’s fingers tighten imperceptibly around the edge of the bed.
The room suddenly feels very small.
Aarav clenches his teeth. Keeping his voice neutral—steady despite the tension coiled inside him—he leans closer to the bed.
“Priya,” he calls softly. “Priya… wake up.”
Her lashes flutter. Slowly, her eyes open, still heavy with sleep. For a moment, she’s disoriented, her gaze unfocused—until it finds Aarav. Relief flickers across her face.
Then her eyes shift.
They land on the police officer.
Instantly, she’s fully awake.
Fear tightens her expression, breath catching as confusion rushes in. Her fingers reach out blindly—and wrap around Aarav’s hand, gripping it hard, as if letting go might make everything collapse.
“They need to ask you a few questions,” Aarav says gently, squeezing her hand back. “About the accident.”
Priya’s grip tightens.
“Aarav…” she whispers, panic slipping into her voice.
“I’m here,” he says immediately, firm but calm. “Don’t worry.”
He helps her adjust the pillows, supporting her as she slowly pushes herself up into a sitting position. Aarav stays right beside her, close enough that she can lean into him if she needs to.
The police officer pulls a small stool closer and sits beside the bed. He clears his throat once, professional, composed, his eyes softening slightly as he looks at her.
Priya is still holding Aarav’s hand—clutching it tightly, knuckles pale.
“That’s alright,” the officer says gently. “We’ll take this slow.”
He opens his notebook.
“Can you tell me your full name?” he asks. “And where are you from?”
Priya swallows, glancing briefly at Aarav before answering—drawing strength from the way he hasn’t moved an inch away from her side
“My name is Priya Singh,” she says softly. “I’m from Jharkhand.”
The officer nods and notes it down, pen scratching against paper. He looks up again, studying her face.
“Do you remember the time of the accident?” he asks.
Priya’s brows knit together. She closes her eyes for a second, trying then shakes her head slowly.
“No… I…I don’t remember anything after the accident.”
The officer watches her carefully, then asks, “Who took you to the hospital?”
Priya turns her head toward Aarav instinctively.
Before she can speak, Aarav answers for her, his voice even. “I did. I took her to the hospital.”
The officer’s gaze snaps to him.
“What were you doing there?” he asks, tone sharp, probing. “Waiting for an accident to happen?”
For a split second, something dangerous flashes in Aarav’s eyes, raw anger, the urge to lash out. His jaw tightens, fists clenching at his sides.
He reins it in.
Calm down. Not here. Not now.
“Priya and I work for the same company,” Aarav says steadily. “I was passing by the area when the accident happened.”
The officer hums, nodding slowly. “Ohhh…” He looks back at Priya, then at Aarav again, his expression tinged with something close to resentment. “You’re very lucky, madam,” he says. “Your colleague or relative, whoever he is to you—he didn't leave you there in the same way the rickshaw driver was left.”
Priya’s fingers tightened around Aarav’s hand and looked at Aarav.
The officer continues, almost casually, “Don’t worry. The ambulance reached him on time. He got saved.”
The words land heavily.
Priya exhales, a shaky breath leaving her lungs as relief softens her features—just a little. Her shoulders ease, and for a moment she closes her eyes, as if silently thanking whoever might be listening.
The officer flips a page in his notebook and continues, voice steady, procedural.
“And by the time we reached the spot,” he says, “the truck wasn’t there. We asked around. People said the driver had run away.”
Priya’s brows draw together in confusion.
“So,” the officer goes on, “where did the truck go?” He pauses, then looks up. “After searching, we received news just an hour ago. The truck was found in a ditch this evening—along with its driver.”
He lets the sentence sit for half a second before finishing it.
“Because of that… he died.”
Priya gasps.
Her hand tightens reflexively around Aarav’s, eyes widening in shock. “D—died?” she whispers, the word barely audible.
Beside her, Aarav doesn’t react the way grief or surprise would demand.
Instead, a slow, almost imperceptible smirk touches his lips—gone as quickly as it appears, hidden behind a mask of composed concern before anyone can question it.
The officer closes his notebook and rises slightly from the stool.
“Because the truck driver died,” he says, matter-of-fact, “there is no case now. We just came to inform you—so you don’t keep thinking about it.”
The words settle into the room with unsettling finality.
Priya nods slowly, still stunned, trying to process the weight of what she’s just heard. Her fingers remain locked around Aarav’s hand, seeking grounding.
Aarav says nothing.
The officer gives one last curt nod, already mentally moving on, unaware that the man who did it is standing in front of him.
The officer pulls a single sheet of paper from his folder and places it gently on the bedside table.
“Just a formal acknowledgment,” he says, handing Priya a pen. “To confirm we informed you.”
Priya hesitates, her hand trembling slightly as she takes the pen. She looks at Aarav silent, questioning. He gives a small nod, steadying her without words.
She signs.
The officer checks the signature, tucks the paper back into his folder, and straightens. “Take care,” he says, already turning toward the door.
With a final nod, he steps out, the soft click of his shoes fading down the corridor.
The door closes.
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To be continued………..
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