Aakriti's POV

If boredom could kill, I'd already be six feet under. Dhruv's grand "three days of rest" order had turned my life into a prison sentence. He forbids me from any kind of work. What am I supposed to do in these three days? I just spent the entire day in my room doing nothing today. Dhruv came from the office.

"Dhruv, let me go to the office tomorrow. Please." I begged him.

"No rest at home. I contacted your assistant and told them about your leave. If you try to deceive me, your rest days will only increase." He said firmly. He is being mean. Only I know how I passed today. What will I do for the next two days?

He grabbed my face with one hand and squeezed my cheeks and pecked on my lips. He repeated it multiple times.

"Don't overthink. Just rest for two days like a good baby." He said and left for the washroom. This man is taking advantage of my kindness. Cunning, stupid, silly man.

The next day.

"I am bored." I said wandering in the palace. Kabir came running towards me and held my wrist and dragged me.

"Where?" I asked.

"Let's end your boredom." He winked at me.

"Huh!" 

We entered a room that was entirely designed as a theater. Karan was already seated, waiting for us.

"Bhabhi, let's watch a Korean drama." Kabir said with a grin.

"I'm not watching." I said flatly, crossing my arms.

"Yes, you are," he said with infuriating cheer, making me sit in between both, shoving a bowl of popcorn into my lap.

"You need exposure. This show has romance, heartbreak, and betrayal—basically, your daily life with Bhai, but with subtitles."

I glared at him, but he had already pressed play, leaning in dramatically as if the fate of the world depended on me watching this episode.

We three were lost in that drama, watching quietly as the heroine cried in the rain while the second male lead held an umbrella over her.

"Why does this guy always stay her friend?" Karan asked suddenly, pointing at the screen. His tone was casual, but his question made Kabir pause.

"Exactly!" I exclaimed.

"This man is gold. He listens, he protects, he sacrifices—and yet he'll end up giving her up for that cold, arrogant hero who treated her like trash for ten episodes!" I said, feeling sad for the second male lead.

Kabir bit back a laugh. "Because that's how these silly dramas work. Nice guys stay friends. Girls fall for the arrogant ones who secretly have a soft heart."

I frowned, clearly unsatisfied. "Then why does the other girl—the one who likes the hero—always turn into a villainess? She starts normal, then suddenly she's scheming and throwing juice at people. Why doesn't she just stay a good friend like the second male lead?"

I blinked, surprised at how sharp the observation was. Kabir, on the other hand, gasped like Karan had just solved world hunger.

"Exactly, Karan! Justice for second female leads!" he declared, pointing dramatically at the screen.

"Because unlike the female lead, the male lead is direct. She knows the male lead will not keep any contact with her if he dates the female lead. So she tries her all to grasp his love. And the second male lead knows that he can at least stay a friend even if she chooses someone else. For him, something is better than nothing." Karan said as if stating life matters.

His words sank into the quiet room like a weight.

Kabir looked stunned. I just stared at Karan, blinking, because—wow—that was deep.

"Karan, you ruined the heroine's image in my eyes. I can never look at her as a pure one after hearing your words." Kabir said dramatically, and I just nodded, agreeing with Kabir. Karan shrugged.

"It's all the fault of those psychological books he reads. Stop reading those and just go and apologize to her." Kabir said in frustration.

"You think I didn't." Karan said with sadness.

"I have hurt her so much that she is not ready to even see me. She treats me like an absolute stranger." He continued.

"You deserve it." Kabir said.

"Don't talk about my life when yours is a complete mess." He snapped at Kabir.

"At least my mess is not created by me." Kabir argued.

"Huh, lie to yourself." Karan said, and Kabir looked angry.

"Calm down, both of you." I said in a raised voice.

"Bhabhi, would you have married Bhai if he was poor?" Kabir asked me.

"No." They both looked at me with wide eyes. Dhruv is right; these two are stupid.

"I had an arranged marriage with Dhruv. If he was poor, he wouldn't even be on the list. I married him because he was Dhruv Singh Rathore."

"But stayed married to him because he is Dhruv. My Dhruv." I whispered softly in a voice that was barely audible to myself.

"We heard that, but let's keep it a secret from Bhai." Kabir said and gave me a teasing smile.

"Too sweet. I might get diabetes. Let's watch this drama." Karan said.

We almost watched the entire series. Only two more episodes were remaining. The hero was acting squeamish in front of the heroine. Crying cutely, telling all his grievances like a baby.

"Even I want a husband who can cry so cutely." I said casually.

"Bhai and crying."

"Never. Impossible."

"Your brother looks ugly when he cries." I said, and they both gasp. It broke my heart when I saw him cry. He should always remain happy and smiley.

"Then how am I supposed to cry, wife?" Dhruv said he was leaning on the doorframe.

"When did you come?" I asked and stood up.

"When you wished for a husband who cries cutely." He said with a firm tone. I could feel his anger and jealousy. What is the reason for his jealousy? I just said it casually. Does he think I am really going to get a new husband who can cry cutely?

"We will leave." Karan said and dragged Kabir.

Dhruv came towards me and pulled me in his arms.

"I look ugly when I cry?" He asked me.

"Yes. Nothing looks uglier than your crying face, so do me a favor and never cry again." I said it, but I know I meant those words. 

Dhruv's arms tightened around me as if he was afraid I might slip away. He looked annoyed.

"So... I look ugly when I cry," he repeated, his voice low, almost like he was testing the words on his tongue.

I circled my arms around his neck, pulling his face closer.

"Yes. Terribly ugly."

His brows furrowed, he looked at me with sadness. As if my words cut deeper than I intended. He misinterpreted my words. I sighed, rising on my toes and brushing my fingers against his right cheek. I pecked his lips lightly.

"Ugly because I can't bear to see you so vulnerable." I whispered softly.

"Even though I have only seen you like that once, it wasn't a pleasing sight. Dhruv, I don't wish you to be in so much pain ever again. I want to always see you smiling. I love that cunning smile of yours. The one that irritates me the most but also makes me feel alive."

I saw him going blank hearing my words. His anger, his jealousy, everything long forgotten. His forehead pressed against mine, his breath warm against my lips.

"You'll ruin me, Aakriti," he murmured, his voice hoarse. "You already have."

I blinked, my heart beating fast at the way he said those words. As if he has surrendered to me. Giving me so much power to ruin him but trusting that I won't. His eyes showed so much love that it scared me. Can I even reciprocate this intense amount of love he has for me? If not, wouldn't it leave him feeling suffocated and burned out?

His hands cupped my face gently, thumbs tracing along my jaw as if memorizing me.

"I love you, baby. You drive me crazy." He said and attacked my lips. Without waiting for a reply, knowing that I didn't have one. At least not now.

His lips moved against mine with urgency, stealing my breath, stealing the ground from beneath my feet. There was nothing gentle in the way he kissed me—it was raw, consuming, like he was pouring every ounce of his fear, his love, and his need into that one moment.

I clutched at his shirt, curling the fabric in my fists as if anchoring myself. My heart hammered in my chest, louder than the sound of our breaths mingling. I wasn't thinking about anything else, just him.

He stopped kissing me but didn't leave my lip. He had captured my lower lip between his lips, reluctant to let go. He sucked it multiple times softly. He gently pulled my lower lip. I felt like he was trying to detach it from my body. But as I winced in pain, he let it go.

When he finally let go, his forehead rested against mine, his breath uneven. His eyes were closed, but I could feel the storm still brewing inside him.

"Dhruv..." I whispered, almost afraid to break whatever fragile string held him together.

His eyes opened slowly, and they burned with such intensity it made me tremble.

"I know you can't say those words to me yet, but you do. Don't say it, but don't try to deny it. Or I might not let you go." He said it in a domineering way. It made butterflies in my stomach. I didn't even try to pull myself away because I knew my efforts would be futile. He was seeking comfort in my presence. And so was I? Dhruv, you are wrong about it. It isn't just me who ruined you, but you did the very same. Or maybe more.

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