The Unwanted Royal Marriage

61. Tiny little heartbeat of its own.

Adhyay's pov

I stood on the balcony, letting the cool breeze calm my nerves while the muffled voices from the living room carried on. Every calculated move Meera and I had planned was falling into place, but the weight of pretending to doubt her still gnawed at me.

I clenched my fists, leaning on the railing. This wasn't just about exposing Bua sa—it was about protecting Meera and Ruhaan. The audacity of her to insinuate that my son wasn't mine, to try and taint the purest joy of my life, was unforgivable.

After a moment, I turned back toward the room. As I entered, the atmosphere was tense. Meera sat stiffly on the couch, her arms crossed, while Bua sa wore an air of smug self-righteousness. Abhimaan Bhai sa stood by the corner, observing quietly, his jaw tight with restrained anger.

"I've made my decision," I said, my voice firm.

All eyes turned to me.

"Meera," I continued, keeping my expression neutral, "we need to address these doubts, openly and honestly. If there's nothing to hide, then there's no harm in clearing the air."

Her eyes flickered with something unreadable—hurt, anger, or maybe just the weight of the act we were putting on. She nodded, her voice clipped. "Fine, Adhyay. If that's what you need, let's do it."

Bua sa's face lit up with triumph, and it took everything in me not to call her out right then and there.

"Good," she said, clasping her hands together as though she were a judge passing a verdict. "It's about time, Adhyay. You deserve clarity, and I'm glad you're taking the initiative."

"I'll call my men," Meera said, standing. "They keep records of everything. Every movement, every operation."

"Your men?" Bua sa scoffed. "The same men who conveniently disappeared when Rohan took you? How reliable can they be?"

"More reliable than you," Meera shot back coldly, walking toward the door.

I raised a hand to stop her. "No need for that now, Meera. We'll handle this step by step."

The room fell silent again, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Ruhaan's soft footsteps suddenly echoed from the stairs, and he appeared, rubbing his sleepy eyes.

"Baba, Maa," he mumbled, his tiny voice cutting through the heaviness. "Why are you fighting?"

I immediately crouched down to his level, scooping him into my arms. "We're not fighting, champ. Just having a serious talk, that's all."

Ruhaan's gaze shifted between Meera and me, his little face scrunching up in concern. "Promise?"

"Promise," Meera said, her voice softening as she ruffled his hair.

"Ruhaan, go play with Saurabh Mamu for a bit," I said, handing him off to Abhimaan Bhai sa, who gave me a subtle nod before carrying him away.

Once Ruhaan was out of earshot, I turned back to Bua sa. "Let's get one thing straight, Bua sa. My loyalty lies with my wife and son. If there's even a hint of manipulation in this... I will not tolerate it."

Her face faltered for a moment, but she quickly recovered, her voice dripping with false sincerity. "Of course, Adhyay. I only want what's best for you."

"Good," I said. "Then let's put everything on the table. But remember, Bua sa—lies have a way of unraveling, and when they do, the consequences won't be light."

With that, I took Meera's hand, leading her out of the room. As soon as we were out of sight, her tense posture relaxed, and she let out a slow breath.

"That was... intense," she muttered.