The days had passed quietly, too quietly for Sanaya's liking. The tension between her and Abhimaan was still there, unspoken but tangible in every glance, every moment of silence. She had spent the week trying to reach out to him, but each time, he shut her down. Cold, distant, and unreachable-that was the Abhimaan she was learning to live with.
But the party tonight, meant to celebrate Abhimaan's success, was a chance for things to shift. She had hoped, foolishly maybe, that the atmosphere would allow some warmth to slip into their relationship.
She was wrong.
The moment Abhimaan had seen her speaking to one of his clients, everything changed.
---
The applause echoed around the room, a chorus of praise for the man who had conquered the business world. Abhimaan Singh Rathore stood on the stage, the glinting award in his hand, but his gaze was fixated elsewhere-on her.
Sanaya was across the room, engaged in conversation with one of his clients. She smiled, her laughter carried faintly over the clinking of glasses and chatter, and it twisted something deep in Abhimaan's chest. A feeling he hadn't allowed himself to acknowledge for years surged up with a force that shocked him.
Jealousy.
It was irrational, he told himself. She was his wife, and their marriage was nothing more than a contract, a binding arrangement of convenience. And yet, seeing her laughing-laughing-with another man set something ablaze inside him. He hated how much it affected him. How much she affected him.
The client leaned in closer to her, and Abhimaan's blood boiled. He didn't care what the man was saying; all he saw was the way Sanaya smiled at him, the way she looked comfortable, open, in a way she never was with him.
What the hell is so funny?
He couldn't take it anymore. With the award still in his grip, he cut through the crowd, his steps measured but every movement filled with restrained anger. The closer he got, the harder it became to keep that icy mask in place.
"Abhimaan," his client greeted with an oblivious grin when he approached. "Your wife is amazing, man. We've been talking about-"
"I don't give a damn what you've been talking about," Abhimaan cut him off coldly, his eyes locking onto Sanaya's startled face. His voice dropped, low and lethal, "This isn't your party, and it sure as hell isn't your wife."
The client blinked in confusion, clearly not expecting this reaction, but Abhimaan didn't care. He couldn't tear his gaze from Sanaya, his eyes burning with a mix of fury and something else-something far more dangerous.
Sanaya's smile faltered under the weight of his glare, and Abhimaan felt a grim satisfaction seeing it vanish. She had no idea how far she had pushed him tonight. No idea how close he was to snapping.
"You're done here," Abhimaan told the client, his voice as sharp as a knife. "Leave."
The man, clearly sensing the brewing storm, mumbled something about getting another drink and quickly excused himself, leaving Sanaya and Abhimaan alone in the midst of the crowded room.
"What the fuck were you thinking?" Abhimaan hissed, stepping closer to her, his voice barely controlled.
Sanaya met his gaze, her own eyes sparking with defiance. "I was just talking."
"Talking?" His voice was harsh, disbelief dripping from every syllable. "Don't play dumb, Sanaya. I saw the way he was looking at you."
"And?" she shot back, her tone sharper now, her frustration bubbling to the surface. "You don't care, remember? This marriage doesn't mean anything to you."
The words struck deeper than Abhimaan expected, a flash of something painful crossing his expression before his features hardened again. He leaned in close, his breath hot against her ear, his voice a low growl. "It means more than you think. And if you ever pull something like that again, you'll wish you hadn't."
---
Sanaya watched as Abhimaan turned and walked away, his shoulders tense with the weight of unspoken emotions. Her heart pounded in her chest, confusion and frustration swirling inside her like a storm. She didn't understand him-he was impossible to read. One moment he was cold and distant, the next he was acting possessive, as if he actually cared.
Does he?
That thought lingered in her mind long after the party ended, echoing in the quiet of their shared room. But no matter how hard she tried to understand him, the walls he had built around himself were too high, too thick for her to break through.
Sanaya lay awake that night, her mind racing, replaying his words, his actions. She knew there was something there-something beneath the surface. But how could she reach it if he kept shutting her out?
And why did it hurt so much every time he did?
---
The Next Morning
The tension from the previous night still hung in the air, thick and suffocating. Sanaya didn't know how to face Abhimaan after everything that had happened. But as usual, he was already up and gone by the time she left their room, leaving her alone with her thoughts.
She wandered through the Rathore estate, trying to clear her mind. But everywhere she went, memories of the night before followed her, Abhimaan's harsh words playing on a loop in her head.
It means more than you think.
What did he mean by that? Did it mean he cared more than he was willing to admit? Or was it just another way to control her, to remind her of the power he held in their marriage?
Lost in her thoughts, Sanaya didn't notice Abhiraj standing by the doorway until she nearly bumped into him.
"You seem distracted, Bhabhi," he said, his voice gentle but with a hint of curiosity. "Something on your mind?"
Sanaya gave him a small smile, trying to mask the turmoil she felt inside. "Just... processing some things."
Abhiraj nodded, his expression knowing. "Abhi Bhai can be difficult, I know. But he's not impossible to reach."
Sanaya glanced at him, surprised. "What do you mean?"
Abhiraj gave her a thoughtful look. "He's spent his whole life shutting people out. It's going to take time for him to let you in. But don't give up on him yet. I've never seen him like this with anyone before."
Sanaya felt a flicker of hope at his words, but it was quickly tempered by doubt. Could she really reach him? Could she break through the walls he had so carefully constructed?
She wasn't sure. But one thing she knew for certain: she wasn't ready to give up just yet.
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