AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He chuckles while keeping his eyes on the road and speaking over his Bluetooth earpiece.
“Okay, we will give her a teddy too.”
“Yehhh.”
Her cute voice soothes my heart and it’s strange because just like I feel a connection with Aarav, I have felt the same for his daughter too though we are yet to meet. No. How can I meet her? She might think I am her mother.What if I were her mother? Doesn't she deserve my love and pampering?I shut my eyes to stop my subconscious mind from feeding me these queries.
The car halts at the gates of my Villa.
“Aarvi misses you,” he says, out of the blue and I suddenly loathe this man for pricking my motherly vibes.
“She misses her mother, not me.”
Of course, I don’t meet his eyes when I say that. If by any chance I am really Jhanvi, these words are a big blow to him.
When I try to open the door, Aarav holds my hand.
“Unlock the damn door, Aarav.”
“Not until you give me some hope that you’ll believe my intuitions someday.”
Again, his expectations hit me like a blow to the stomach. I shrug my hand off his.
“No. Even if all your intuitions are right and I am your wife, I don’t think I am ever returning to you, Aarav Raichand. That’s because I don’t have a single memory of you or the life I lived with you. I have and will always choose my present over my past. That’s the kind of woman I have become in these two years, whether you like it or not.”
Deep irritation flares on his face but he doesn't drop my hand. Instead, his finger lingers over my ring finger, and as he strokes the sensitive skin there, my heart skips a beat.
“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you not wearing your ring,” he grins. “That confirms you are coming back to me, Jaan. You want it or not but you are coming back to me.Forever again.”
It is his warning, carrying a harsh edge.
Before he threatens me more, I manage to unlock the car door and hurry to my home. A cold sensation settles in my stomach as I walk away from Aarav but I make sure not to turn around and see him again because I know the moment I do I’ll run into his arms and take back my words which have hurt him so much.
****************
I don’t bother to wait for Rudra to come home at night so that I can share the incident that took place. Feeling exhausted is one thing, feeling traumatized is another. These few hours that went by after that incident on the road has left a deep impact on my head. I am so grateful Aarav helped me out and has even planned to put guards on me which I might never know. At least I’ve someone who is bothered to keep me safe and guarded. With that thought looming in my head, I doze off.
The next day Rudra gets to know about the issue from my driver John and by the time I come down, he is done with the Puja. He offers me the prasad which I eat without a fuss, even if I am upset with him, and then his concern overflows.
“Are you fine now? John told me about that incident. Why didn’t you tell me last night?”
“When should I have told you, Rudra? The moment I picked the call you were barking at me for losing the deal.”
He exhales audibly pulling my hands together.
“Don’t think the deal means anything to me more than you. I am sorry for last night and trust me I won’t repeat that henceforth.”
It’s not about repeating his errant behavior, in fact, it’s not about him anymore. It’s about me, my real identity and the way I am being pulled towards Aarav Raichand.
We eat breakfast together when Rudra reminds me of the party that we have to attend. One of his friends got engaged and threw a party where we are invited. Though I am in no mood to attend one, I agree at the moment and mentally make a note to pick some gift for the couple today.
After a busy workday, I’m at a gift store looking for some exclusive collections of artistic jewelry when I hear someone calling my name. It is weird that I am responding to someone calling me Jhanvi and not Khushi. When I turn around, I see two women – one in her late 60’s and the other around my age. They look at me with so much love and affection that my heart already feels I know them.
“Jhanvi…” the old woman reaches me and gives me a tight hug. I am astounded at her actions. They think I’m Jhanvi. Who are they?
As if they understand my turmoil, the old woman quickly cups my face and kisses my forehead. The motherly warmth in that action touches a chord in my heart.
“Sorry, I know you don’t like to be called by that name anymore,” she adds, wiping her tears. “You really don’t remember us, do you?”
