CROWNED WITH LOVE : A JOURNEY OF TRADITION AND TEMPTATION

CHAPTER 30 : The Hug

HAPPY READING

Throughout the journey, not a single word was uttered. The tension hung heavy in the air, suffocating any attempt at conversation.

From the altercation, Aadhyant bore the physical marks of the conflict. His lip was split, a thin trail of blood tracing its way down his chin, while a bruise marred his cheekbone, the discoloration evident even in the dim light of the car's interior. Despite the injuries, his eyes blazed with fury, the anger simmering just beneath the surface.

The audacity of Ajeet's insults towards Vihanna fueled Aadhyant's rage to a boiling point. Had Vihanna not intervened, he knew he would have unleashed a torrent of violence upon his antagonist, consequences be damned.

Vihanna was visibly upset with him for reacting in such a manner. Upon reaching home, they both headed straight to their room, silently grateful that no family member was awake to witness Aadhyant's disheveled condition.

As soon as they entered the room, she swiftly retrieved the first aid box, intent on tending to his injuries. With a firm tone, she pointed to the couch, instructing him, "Sit here."

He, still simmering with anger, began to undo his tie when he noticed the first aid box in her hand. Frustration laced his words as he exclaimed, "There's no need for all this. I'm fine."

Hearing his dismissive tone, her anger flared up, and she commanded him angrily, "JUST SHUT UP AND SIT HERE QUIETLY."

Normally, Aadhyant didn't take orders from anyone, but something about her commanding presence snapped something inside him, compelling him to comply with her request. He had never seen her so visibly angry before.

As he sat down obediently, she began to clean the blood from his lower lip with cotton, her movements focused and precise. While she tended to his wound, he found himself unable to tear his gaze away from her.

She moved her hand to tend to another wound, her voice gentle yet firm as she remarked, "The situation could have been handled better. There was no need for violence."

He responded matter-of-factly, "Nobody can foul-mouth my wife and be alright."

Her hand paused mid-motion at the unexpected declaration. The words "my wife" lingered in the air, echoing in her mind. It was the second time that day he had referred to her in such a possessive manner. A flicker of doubt crossed her thoughts as she pondered whether he truly cared for her that deeply.

He continued in anger, "He was lucky that you were there and you stopped me, otherwise I would have killed him right there."

She continued treating his wounds, her tone firm yet compassionate, "You cannot just go out and kill people."

"Why? Why can't I do that? He can say whatever nonsense comes out of his mouth and I cannot hit him," he questioned, frustration evident in his voice.

"No, because he is your cousin. Your family," she explained calmly.

"I don't consider him my family," he retorted.

"Okay, fine. I don't know what happened between you two, but even so, you cannot hit him. Because it was not right. This was not the solution for anything," she reasoned, her words carrying a sense of conviction.

He angrily said, "Why are you defending him?"

"I am not defending him. I am just saying that you could've handled the situation more maturely. Violence is not a solution. What if the media caught you both fighting?" she responded calmly.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, he asked her, "Did you love him?"

She became stunned at his unexpected question and asked, "What?"

He asked again, his voice more urgent, "When you rejected his proposal, you told my family that you said no because you were not ready for marriage. Were you... Were you in love with him? Or still are?"

Vihanna fell silent, her hand pausing in its motion. She looked into his eyes, wondering why he was suddenly asking this.

Aadhyant stared into her eyes, waiting anxiously for her response. Only he knew how difficult it was for him to ask this question, and his heart sank into his stomach at the possibility of her answer being positive.

"No. No, I was never in love with him. We were just friends for a while," she said, her words a balm to his worried soul. He sighed in relief and silently nodded in acknowledgment of her answer.

After cleaning and dressing his wound, she got up from where she had been sitting and went to change.

After changing, Aadhyant sat on the bed, the atmosphere noticeably calmer than before. When Vihanna entered the room, she picked up a pillow from the bed and headed towards the couch.

"Are you not going to sleep on the bed today also?" he asked, curiosity lacing his voice.

She shook her head in response, her expression somber. "I'm still mad at you from our fight," she admitted softly.

Aadhyant wasn't pleased about spending another night without having her in his arms. He couldn't deny the fact that he found solace in her presence. Today had shown him that no other person would have been able to stop him as she did. She seemed to have some sort of power over him.

Oddly enough, he found himself even enjoying her scolding. He couldn't recall the last time someone fussed over him like that. It felt... nice, disturbingly so.

He smiled slightly and nodded his head in understanding. "Okay," he acknowledged. "Can I at least get a hug?"

Her head snapped in his direction at his request. He made a puppy-eyed face and pleaded, "Please. I had a shitty day."

A smile formed on her lips as she watched him go from tough to tender in seconds. "You have major mood swings," she teased gently.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he opened his arms and gestured to her. "Come here."

She chuckled at how cute he looked, his puppy eyes melting her resolve. In no mood to refuse, she got up and walked right into his open arms. He was sitting on the bed, and she stood between his legs. His head rested on her chest, his arms wrapping around her waist perfectly. Her hands roamed through his hair soothingly.

With a light chuckle, he remarked, "Your heart is beating really fast."

She replied softly, "Yours too."

They stayed there for a while, lost in each other's embrace with their eyes closed.

Then, murmuring into her stomach through her T-shirt, he said, "I'm sorry for speaking to you rudely that day. You are my family."

She heard him, and a smile formed on her lips. She kissed his forehead and said, "And you are mine."

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