Just then, Aryan's voice was heard from behind—
"Raman…"
Both Raman and Kiara froze instantly.
Their bodies stiffened.
Their throats went dry.
Fear crept in—cold and sharp.
Only one question echoed in their minds—
Did Aryan hear everything?
Did he…?
Aryan stepped closer to them.
With every step he took, the tension in the air grew heavier.
Kiara's fingers curled slightly at her sides. Raman straightened unconsciously.
The garden that had felt calm only moments ago suddenly seemed smaller, quieter, suffocating in a way neither of them could explain. Even the soft sound of leaves moving in the evening breeze felt too loud in that moment.
Aryan stopped in front of them and asked calmly—
"What are you two doing here?"
Kiara looked at him, startled.
"You… you're here?" she asked nervously.
Aryan frowned slightly.
"I was looking for you. I couldn't find you anywhere in the house, so I came here… and I see you're with Raman."
His gaze shifted between them.
A slow, unreadable look.
A look that made Kiara's heartbeat stumble.
"What were you talking about? Can't I know?"
Kiara and Raman exchanged a quick glance.
And in that moment—
They realized.
Aryan hadn't heard anything.
Both of them let out a silent breath of relief.
A breath so small it almost went unnoticed.
But inside—
It felt like surviving disaster.
Kiara quickly spoke, avoiding his question—
"You were looking for me? But I was with you just a while ago…"
Aryan's expression softened slightly.
"The moment you're out of my sight, I feel uneasy. When I couldn't find you anywhere, I got worried."
There was no accusation in his voice.
Only honesty.
Raw.
Unexpected.
And somehow—
That made it harder for Kiara to look at him.
Kiara gave a faint teasing smile.
"What? Did you think I ran away and left you?"
The moment she said that—
Aryan's expression changed.
His eyes darkened slightly.
Something painful flashed through them so quickly that Kiara almost missed it.
He raised his finger and gently pressed it against her lips.
"Shh… not a word."
His voice dropped.
Low.
Firm.
"Don't ever talk about leaving again."
The way he said it made Kiara's smile fade instantly.
There was something in his tone.
Something deeper than fear.
Almost like a wound.
Raman watched the scene quietly, a small smile forming on his lips.
A sense of relief and satisfaction filled his heart.
Because for the first time in a long time—
He could see something human in Aryan again.
Something softer.
Something real.
Aryan turned to Kiara.
"Come with me."
"Where?" Kiara asked.
"Inside."
"You go… I'll come," she said.
But Aryan didn't listen.
He grabbed her hand.
"No. Come with me now."
Before she could protest—
He pulled her along with him.
Kiara had no choice but to follow.
Her fingers remained trapped in his hand as he led her away.
And strangely—
Even though she should have resisted—
A part of her noticed how warm his hand felt around hers.
Raman watched them leave, a faint, content smile on his face.
As if for a moment—
He allowed himself to hope.
—
Aryan took Kiara straight to his room.
He made her sit on the bed.
"Sit here quietly. Don't move."
Then added, slightly annoyed—
"I'm at home today, and instead of staying with me, taking care of me… loving me… you're wandering around the house?"
Kiara looked at him.
Speechless.
Because he said it so naturally.
As if her place beside him was already decided.
As if she belonged there.
Then suddenly—
"By the way… what were you talking about with Raman?"
Kiara froze.
Her heart skipped a beat.
For a moment, she didn't know what to say.
The question sounded casual.
But something in Aryan's eyes told her—
He was watching carefully.
Then—
She quickly made up a lie.
"I was just telling him… that some things in the kitchen are finished. I asked him to send the driver to get them."
"Oh," Aryan said casually.
He believed her instantly.
No doubt.
No suspicion.
At least—
Not visibly.
He sat beside her and rested his head on her shoulder.
"Give me some affection…" he said softly.
The sudden softness in his voice caught her off guard.
Kiara stiffened.
She gently moved away, lifting his head from her shoulder.
Inside, she thought—
If I stay here longer, who knows what else he'll ask…
I need to leave.
"What happened?" Aryan asked.
"Nothing… I need to cook. You have to eat lunch, right? You can't fill your stomach with affection alone."
Aryan smiled slightly.
A real smile.
Small.
But dangerously charming.
"Fine. Then I'll come with you."
"You? What will you do there?"
"I'll help you. Please… take me with you. I don't like it when I can't see you."
He insisted.
And hearing those words—
Something strange moved inside her chest.
After a moment, Kiara sighed.
"Alright… come."
—
They both went to the kitchen.
Kiara turned to him.
"What would you like to eat? I'll cook your favorite today."
Aryan went silent.
He tried to think.
But nothing came to his mind.
His expression turned slightly frustrated.
"I don't remember… what I like."
He looked at her.
"You know everything about me, right? Tell me… what do I like?"
Kiara froze.
She had no answer.
She didn't know anything.
Her mind raced, searching for something—anything.
Just then—
A voice came from behind.
"Then how about we make sir's favorite… Chicken Stroganoff today?"
Kiara and Aryan both turned.
Raman stood there.
Calm.
Composed.
"What do you say, ma'am? It's sir's favorite, right?" he added meaningfully.
Kiara immediately understood.
Relief washed over her.
"Yes… yes, of course."
But the problem remained—
She didn't know the recipe.
She looked at Raman helplessly.
Raman caught her expression instantly.
And smoothly began explaining—
"Ma'am, remember that day when you made sir's favorite Chicken Stroganoff…"
He continued naturally—
"You added one tablespoon of butter in the pan and lightly fried the chicken, then kept it aside. Then in the same pan, you added butter again and sautéed onions, garlic, and mushrooms until soft. Sir kept stealing bites from the pan…"
Aryan looked slightly amused.
Raman went on—
"Then you added flour, cream, and chicken stock to make the sauce. After that, you added the fried chicken, salt, pepper, soy sauce, and mustard paste… and cooked it on low flame until the sauce thickened…"
He smiled slightly.
"Sir couldn't wait to eat it."
Then turned to Aryan—
"Right, sir?"
Aryan frowned slightly.
"I don't remember any of this…"
Raman chuckled.
"You will, sir. After eating ma'am's cooking today, everything might come back."
Kiara tried hard not to laugh.
She kept nodding along seriously.
Raman turned to leave.
As he did, Kiara subtly gestured—
Thank you.
Raman gave a slight nod—
All the best.
Then he walked away.
—
After Raman left, Kiara immediately started cooking according to his instructions.
Aryan stayed beside her.
Helping—
But also teasing.
Sometimes he brushed her ear lightly.
Sometimes he messed up her hair.
Sometimes he even dabbed sauce on her cheek just to annoy her.
And every time she turned to glare at him—
He only smiled like an innocent child.
A dangerously handsome one.
Kiara tried to stay focused—
But he made it impossible.
Because every small touch from him—
Every playful glance—
Made her forget for a second that none of this was real.
And that was what scared her most.
By the time the cooking was done—
She was exhausted.
Aryan reached out to taste it—
But Kiara stopped him.
"Not now. At the dining table."
Aryan sighed dramatically.
"Fine."
Like a disappointed child.
And despite herself—
Kiara almost smiled.
—
Kiara went to freshen up and told one of the cooks to prepare rice.
Her steps were quick.
Almost hurried.
As if she needed distance—
Not just from the kitchen…
But from Aryan.
From his presence.
From the way he looked at her.
From the way he made everything feel real.
She splashed water on her face, staring at her reflection in the mirror.
Her eyes looked different.
Confused.
Restless.
"Get a grip…" she whispered softly to herself.
"This is not real."
But even as she said it—
Her heart refused to listen.
—
Meanwhile, Aryan walked out of the kitchen and into the living room.
He turned on the TV, but his eyes weren't really on the screen.
His mind was somewhere else.
On her.
On the way she avoided his gaze.
On the way she pulled away.
On the way she hesitated.
His fingers tapped lightly on the armrest.
Something didn't feel right.
Something was… off.
But he couldn't place it.
And that irritated him more than anything.
—
After a while, Kiara returned.
Her face looked fresh.
Calm.
As if nothing had happened.
As if she hadn't been running from her own emotions just moments ago.
She walked toward him.
"You should come eat now."
Aryan looked up at her.
For a second—
He just stared.
Then slowly stood up.
"Let's go."
—
They both sat at the dining table.
Kiara served the food.
Carefully.
Quietly.
Aryan picked up a bite—
Rice with the chicken.
He placed it in his mouth.
And the moment the taste settled—
His expression changed.
His eyes widened slightly.
"Wow…"
He looked at her.
Genuine surprise in his gaze.
"This is amazing. What did you make? It's delicious."
Kiara blinked.
Relief washed over her.
At least—
She hadn't messed it up.
"Try it," he said, pushing the plate slightly toward her with a small smile.
Kiara sat down and started eating with him.
Aryan kept praising her cooking.
Again.
And again.
Every few seconds—
Another compliment.
Another look.
Another smile.
"You really made this?"
"It's perfect."
"I could eat this every day."
Kiara nodded softly each time.
But inside—
Something twisted.
Because every word—
Every appreciation—
Felt undeserved.
Felt like it belonged to someone else.
Not her.
—
After finishing, Aryan leaned back slightly.
Satisfied.
Content.
"I feel like I've eaten something I've been missing for a long time," he murmured.
Kiara's hand paused for a second.
Then she quickly looked down.
Avoiding his eyes.
—
Aryan stood up and went back to the room.
His steps were slower now.
Relaxed.
While Kiara stayed back for a moment.
Cleaning up.
Giving herself time.
Time to breathe.
Time to think.
Time to remember—
This is temporary.
Everything is temporary.
—
A little later, Kiara walked back to the room.
She pushed the door open slowly.
And stepped inside.
The room was quiet.
Empty.
Aryan wasn't there.
She let out a small breath.
Good…
He's not here.
For a moment—
Her shoulders relaxed.
The tension in her chest loosened slightly.
But just as she took a step forward—
"Boo!"
Kiara gasped and turned around instantly.
Her heart jumped to her throat.
Aryan stood behind her.
Laughing loudly.
Completely amused.
"You scared me!" she said, placing a hand on her chest, trying to calm her racing heartbeat.
Aryan laughed harder.
"You should've seen your face."
Kiara frowned slightly.
"You're the best at mischief."
Aryan stepped closer.
Slowly.
One step at a time.
His eyes fixed on her.
"And I'm the best at something else too…"
He tilted his head slightly.
"Want to see?"
Kiara's breath caught.
She stepped back.
Instinctively.
"What…?"
Aryan didn't answer.
He kept moving forward.
And she kept stepping back.
Step.
By step.
Until—
Her back hit the wall.
She froze.
No more space.
No escape.
Aryan came closer.
Too close.
He placed both his hands on the wall—
On either side of her.
Trapping her between them.
Kiara's heartbeat became uneven.
Loud.
Fast.
Her breath turned shallow.
His face moved closer to hers.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Kiara shut her eyes tightly.
As if that would somehow stop everything.
As if that would protect her from what she was feeling.
From what was about to happen.
Her fingers curled slightly.
Her body stiff.
Waiting.
Not moving.
Not resisting.
Not accepting either.
Just—
Caught.
Between everything.
But suddenly—
Aryan's movement stopped.
Completely.
Kiara felt it.
The pause.
The shift.
Something changed.
She opened her eyes slowly.
And saw—
He wasn't looking at her anymore.
His gaze had shifted.
Toward the wall.
Behind her.
His expression changed instantly.
Completely.
The softness disappeared.
The playfulness vanished.
His face darkened.