𝐔𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞: 𝐀 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐲

Chapter 22

N I K S H A N T

The day had already been taxing. I had spent hours in my office, juggling paperwork and trying to piece together the threads of Aaravi's past. The more I delved into it, the more tangled it seemed to become. There were too many questions and not enough answers.

By the time I reached home, all I wanted was silence. Instead, I walked into what looked like a family gathering. Aaravi was seated awkwardly on the couch, her posture stiff. Yash and Rishabh were sprawled comfortably, chatting with my siblings, Aarav and Aahana, as though this was their home.

I cleared my throat, drawing their attention. "What are you two doing here?" I asked, looking directly at Yash and Rishabh.

Rishabh leaned back against the couch, his signature smirk plastered across his face. "We heard your wife is an exceptional cook. Thought we'd stop by for dinner."

Yash nodded enthusiastically. "And let me tell you, the rumors don't lie. Aaravi really knows her way around the kitchen."

My gaze shifted to Aaravi, who stood near the kitchen door. Her hands were clasped tightly in front of her, her eyes downcast. Something was off—she looked pale, almost frightened.

"Really?" I said, my tone sharper than I intended. "And did it occur to you to ask before inviting yourselves over?"

Rishabh shrugged. "Why would we? You're family, Nik. And family shares food, right?"

I didn't respond, choosing instead to walk past them into the kitchen. Aaravi flinched slightly as I approached, but I ignored it.

"Is the food ready?" I asked curtly.

She nodded without looking up.

Her silence bothered me more than I cared to admit. I wanted to ask if something was wrong, but a part of me resisted. She had her secrets, and I had mine. For now, I would let her stew in whatever was eating her up inside.

The dinner was, admittedly, incredible. Aaravi had made a variety of dishes—each one seasoned to perfection. Yash and Rishabh couldn't stop gushing over it.

"Seriously, Aaravi," Yash said, leaning forward as he took another bite. "Nik is a lucky man."

I glanced at Aaravi, who smiled faintly in response but still seemed distant. Her replies were short, her eyes darting nervously. I was the only one who noticed.

Rishabh clapped his hands together after the meal. "This was amazing! Aaravi, you're going to regret marrying Nik. You should've picked one of us instead."

It was a joke, of course. But when Rishabh stood up and hugged Aaravi in thanks, something inside me snapped.

The moment Yash and Rishabh hugged Aaravi, something within me tightened—a pull I couldn't name. My jaw clenched, and I forced my face into a mask of indifference. I leaned back in my chair, pretending to scroll through my phone as if their praise and her small, awkward smiles didn't matter.

But they did.

I hated that they hugged her, that they made her laugh—a sound so rare, it felt foreign in our home. I hated that I noticed.

"Bhai, you didn't tell us Aaravi cooks like a five-star chef," Rishabh teased, wiping his hands on a napkin. His easy grin made my blood simmer. "You've been keeping her talent hidden!"

Yash chimed in, leaning back with a satisfied sigh. "You're lucky, Nikshant. Marrying someone who cooks this well? Jackpot."

Aaravi's cheeks flushed under their attention, and she mumbled something about being happy they liked it. My gaze flicked to her, noticing how she avoided looking at me.