𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐟𝐞

19. Echoes of Unspoken Truths.

AVNI'S POV:

After the snacks, he reaches into his pocket and takes something out. He extends it toward me, and I freeze in shock. It’s my medicines—the ones the doctor prescribed yesterday. I had completely forgotten them at home this morning. But how does he know I need them?

His voice pulls me out of my daze.

“Avni, take these quickly. You didn’t have your afternoon dose either.”

“How do you know that?” I ask, astonished.

“Aarohi told me you left your medicines at home,” he replies calmly.

Without stretching the conversation further, I take the medicines and swallow them. He insists on paying the bill, and when I try to contribute, he firmly refuses.

“No,” he says, his voice gentle yet unwavering, his eyes locking with mine and a small smile playing on his lips. That smile says, I’ll handle it, because I’m older than you.

I decide not to argue any more and let him pay.

We leave the restaurant, and he drives me home. Before stepping out of the car, I mustered the courage to ask him.

“Please come inside for some coffee.” I try to keep my tone polite and inviting.

Before he can answer, his phone rings. He takes the call, and I wait patiently while he speaks to someone on the other end. A few minutes later, he ends the call and looks at me apologetically.

“I’m really sorry, Avni. I’d love to have coffee with you, but something urgent has come up. I have to go.”

“It’s okay. I understand—it must be important,” I reply with a small smile before stepping out of the car.

Once inside, I retreat to my room, but dinner is no different tonight. As usual, Taiji doesn’t miss a chance to insult me, and Anya, being her usual self, starts questioning me about where I was and what I was doing.

I hate these constant interrogations, but I answer briefly to avoid further drama. Afterward, I head to the kitchen to help Mumma with the chores.

A Month Passes By

A month has passed, and I find myself slipping into our shared routine. I step into my cabin, carrying two cups of coffee in my hands. It’s become our habit to have coffee together at noon. Knocking lightly on the interconnected door, I enter his cabin and place one cup on his table.

He doesn’t look up from his laptop, his focus entirely on his work.

“Arjun ji, at least have your coffee first, and then you can get back to work,” I say, my annoyance creeping in as I watch him drown himself in his workload.

He’s been working non-stop lately, becoming more of a workaholic than ever. Oh, I forgot to tell you—we’ve started addressing each other by our first names. Well, I call him Arjun ji, while he simply calls me Avni. This past month has brought us closer, and it feels nice.

In just fifteen days, his coronation ceremony will take place, and he’ll officially become the King of Udaipur. It sounds surreal, but if anyone deserves it, it’s him.