Anaya-His heartbeat

CHAPTER-45

Shivarth

Shivarth

The ringing of my phone cut through the stillness of the night, dragging me out of a rare, peaceful sleep. For a moment, I debated ignoring it, but the persistent vibration forced my hand. Squinting at the screen, I saw Daksh’s name flashing. Great. This couldn’t be good.

I answered, my voice low and impatient. "What is it?"

“Sir,” Daksh started, his tone cautious, “your father will be arriving at the mansion tomorrow morning. He insisted I inform you.”

The words hit me like a slap, wiping away the last traces of sleep. My father. Of course. He had to pick now to show up. I hadn't seen or spoken to him since the wedding, and honestly, I was fine with it staying that way.

"Fine," I muttered, cutting the call before Daksh could say anything else.

Leaning back against the headboard, I let out a long breath, staring at the dark ceiling above me. My father. The man who had been more of a shadow than a parent. He didn’t even pretend to care—always treating me like a responsibility he couldn’t wait to offload. His rare appearances were never pleasant, just reminders of the weight of his expectations and the distance between us.

Why was he coming now? Was it just another formality, or did he have something else in mind? The thought made my jaw tighten. I didn’t want to face him, not now, not ever. Seeing him again would only remind me of everything I’d tried to bury—the coldness, the indifference, and the anger I could never fully let go of.

I glanced at the empty space beside me, my mind briefly flickering to Anaya. Tonight had been different, peaceful even. For the first time in what felt like years, I hadn’t felt alone. But the thought of my father stepping into this fragile new phase of my life made my stomach churn.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. Tomorrow would come whether I liked it or not. And when it did, I’d have to face him. For now, all I could do was try to salvage what was left of the night.
***.

.I woke up with an ache in my chest, the kind that tightens with each thought of him. My father was coming today. The very idea of him stepping into this house felt like a storm brewing on the horizon. I didn’t want Anaya involved in this. She didn’t need to greet him or even know he was here. This was my battle—mine alone.

I headed to the gym, letting the hum of machines and the clink of weights distract me. Each rep felt like a release, a way to clear my head before the inevitable. But no matter how hard I pushed, the knot in my stomach remained.

After my routine, I grabbed a towel and checked the time. He was probably here already. Taking a deep breath, I braced myself and walked out, heading to the living room. As soon as I saw him, the tension between us snapped into place like a taut wire. His sharp eyes swept over me, and I could feel his disapproval without a word.

“So,” he started, his voice laced with contempt, “you’re fully consumed by this marriage, aren’t you? Already losing your edge, Shivarth. Do you even understand the mess you’ve gotten yourself into?”

I clenched my fists, keeping my composure. “This isn’t a mess. It’s my life, my decision, and I don’t owe you an explanation.”

He laughed, a harsh sound that grated against my nerves.

I stared at my father, his words echoing in the room like a taunt designed to cut deeper each time. “You’ve already forgotten what it means to stand on your own,” he said, his voice calm but dripping with disdain. “Tying yourself down like this—marriage, Shivarth? You’re sacrificing your freedom, your focus, for what? A fleeting sense of stability?”