THE IInd DECISION

47. Between a Mother, Daughter and Sister

Ashi Pov:-

Sunlight peeked through the glass window, filtering past the white curtains and casting a warm glow over the room. The soft rays danced across my face, pulling me gently from my sleep. My eyes fluttered open, and I stretched my arms out from under the blanket, letting out a small yawn. Rubbing my face with one hand, I turned to my side, only to find the space beside me empty.

I sat up slowly, realizing I was wearing his oversized grey T-shirt. Lifting the collar to my nose, I inhaled deeply—his scent still lingered on the fabric, warm and comforting. A blush crept across my cheeks as flashes of last night flooded my mind. The way he had gently removed my payal and bangles, his touch lingering like poetry against my skin. I giggled softly, my cheeks growing warmer.

A notification popped on my phone screen, and just as I reached for it, Ayan entered the room.

"Good morning, cupcake," he said, his voice soft and playful.

I blinked in surprise at the nickname and looked up at him. There he was—Ayan, in his crisp white shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows, an apron tied snugly around his waist, and a smudge of flour on his cheek. His hair was slightly ruffled, and he carried a tray filled with cupcakes.

He looked... adorable.

I smiled at him, and he walked over, sitting on the edge of the bed and placing the tray on the side table. Picking up a cupcake, he held it out toward me.

"Freshly baked, just for you, Your Highness," he said with a boyish grin.

I couldn't stop smiling. Without thinking, I leaned forward and wiped the flour off his cheek with my thumb. He froze for a moment, his eyes fixed on mine, and then smiled softly.

He brought the cupcake to my lips, and I took a small bite. "Yummy!" I said with a happy hum.

He chuckled, his laughter light and infectious. "It's all yours now."

I giggled. "You are now officially my personal baker."

He laughed again, his eyes shining with warmth. I picked up another cupcake and offered it to him. He opened his mouth, and I fed him a bite. A bit of cream lingered on his lips, and without thinking, I wiped it off with my thumb and licked it away.

His gaze softened, his smile turning slightly flirty, but before either of us could say anything, another notification popped up on my phone.

I unlocked my phone distractedly. "Ashi, let's go somewhere today?" he  said.

"Hmm," I mumbled, opening my email.

"Ashi," Ayan said, leaning closer. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Hmm," I repeated absently.

He rolled his eyes, snatched my phone gently, and said, "Listen to me, bacha."

But then his eyes fell on the email displayed on the screen. His expression shifted—his brows furrowed, his forehead creased, and he whispered, almost in disbelief, "Blue Adoption Centre..."

Panic surged through me. No. He couldn't know—not like this. Not now.

His eyes scanned the email aloud: "Dear Ashi, Thank you so much for your contribution for little children. Even a single penny counts. Your request for information has been passed, and all files have been attached. Thank you."

He looked at me, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. My stomach twisted painfully.

"Ayan?" I whispered.