Later that evening,
Rakshit reached home earlier than usual that evening. As soon as he stepped into the living room, he noticed Aravind standing near the entrance, slipping into his coat.
Placing his car keys on the console, Rakshit looked at him curiously. "Are you going somewhere?"
Aravind buttoned his coat and nodded. "I'm going to Ram's house."
Rakshit's brows drew together. "Why?"
"To hear Appu's decision," Aravind replied calmly as he reached for his car keys.
Rakshit's jaw tightened instantly. Taking a step forward, he said firmly, "There won't be any decision."
Aravind slowly turned to face him. "What do you mean?"
Looking straight into his father's eyes, Rakshit spoke without hesitation. "I'm asking you not to proceed with this proposal."
Silence settled between them.
After a moment, Rakshit continued quietly, "I spoke to Aprajita today." Lowering his gaze for a second, he added, "I've already told her to refuse."
The words made Aravind fall silent. "You did?" he asked softly.
Rakshit nodded once. "There's no point taking this any further."
For several long moments, neither of them spoke.
Then, to Rakshit's surprise, Aravind quietly removed his coat and placed it back on the sofa."Fine."
Rakshit looked at him, caught completely off guard.
"I won't go."
Relief had barely begun to settle inside him when Aravind looked at him again and added calmly, "I'll also cancel tomorrow's chemotherapy session."
Rakshit's expression changed instantly. "What?"
"And the one after that," Aravind continued, his voice frighteningly calm. " There isn't much point anymore."
Rakshit stared at him in disbelief. "Dad...What are you saying?"
A faint, tired smile appeared on Aravind's lips. Looking at his son, he said quietly, "The only reason I've been fighting this illness is because I wanted to leave knowing you wouldn't spend the rest of your life alone."
His smile slowly faded. "If that isn't going to happen..." he paused before finishing softly, "...then I don't have the strength to keep fighting."
"Dad, stop." Rakshit called him.
"No," Aravind replied without raising his voice. "I'm tired, Rakshit."
Aravind looked away for a brief moment before continuing, "Every chemotherapy session reminds me that I'm running out of time." Looking back at his son, he smiled sadly. "The only thing that keeps me going is the hope of seeing you build a life beyond this company."
Rakshit shook his head in frustration and ran a hand through his hair. "This is emotional blackmail."
"If that's what you want to call it..." Aravind replied with a faint smile, "...then yes."He lowered his eyes for a moment before adding quietly, "I have no other weapon left."
Rakshit let out a slow breath and looked away. "Don't do this."
"I'm not asking for anything unreasonable." Aravind tells him.
"You are." Rakshit tells him.
Aravind took a slow step towards him. "Then tell me."
Rakshit looked at him silently.
"Why?" Aravind asked again. "Why is marriage impossible for you?"
Rakshit turned his face away. "I can't."
"Why?"
"I just can't."
"You've been giving me the same answer for five years." Aravind sighs.
Rakshit looked back at him, his expression weary. "And my answer hasn't changed."
Silence filled the room once again.
For the first time, Rakshit's voice lost its usual control. "You're the only family I have left," he admitted quietly, his eyes glistening. "If something happens to you..." His voice faltered before he finished, "...I'll have no one."
Rakshit looked at his father helplessly. "So don't talk about giving up."
Aravind's eyes softened. Walking closer, he gently placed a hand on Rakshit's shoulder. "I don't want to leave you alone either."His voice was barely above a whisper. "That's exactly why I'm asking you to marry."
Aravind squeezed his son's shoulder gently before saying, "So that when I'm gone..." A small smile appeared on his face. "...someone will still be there to remind you to come home."
Rakshit slowly closed his eyes. Every word his father spoke broke through the walls he had spent years building around himself.
He wanted to refuse. He wanted to walk away and wanted to tell him the truth about why he could never marry.
But when he looked at the man who had sacrificed everything for him...
The words never came.
The room fell into a painful silence.
Neither father nor son was willing to surrender.
💛
The evening traffic crawled through the city as Aprajita rode her scooty towards home, the cool breeze brushing against her face but doing little to quiet the storm inside her mind. Between the proposal, her conversation with Rakshit, and the countless unanswered questions lingering in her heart, the entire day had felt unusually heavy.
Her phone, mounted on the handlebar, suddenly lit up.
Frowning, she slowed down and pulled over to the side of the road before glancing at the screen.
Rakshit Bharadwaj Calling...
Her breath caught.
For a brief second, she simply stared at his name, wondering if she was imagining it. In five years of working with him, he had never called her after office hours unless it was an unavoidable emergency.
Taking a slow breath, she answered the call. "Hello, sir."
Rakshit's voice came almost immediately. "Have you reached home?"
She frowned slightly at the unexpected question before replying, "No, sir. I'm still on my way."
A brief silence followed before he spoke again. "There's a café about five minutes from your house."
She straightened a little. "Yes..."
"Meet me there," he said quietly before disconnecting the call.
Aprajita slowly lowered the phone and stared at the blank screen.
He hadn't explained anything, even asked if she was free.
He had simply told her to meet him.
That wasn't like Rakshit. He never made impulsive decisions.
Starting her scooty again, she took the next turn towards the café, her thoughts refusing to slow down.
Had something happened to Aravind Uncle?
Had he changed his mind about the proposal?
Or... was this about work?
None of the answers felt right.
Nearly ten minutes later, she parked outside the small café and removed her helmet.
Looking through the glass walls, her eyes immediately found him.
Rakshit Bharadwaj sat alone at a corner table, his untouched cup of coffee growing cold before him. Leaning forward, he rested one hand against his forehead as though trying to silence the thoughts inside his head.
She stopped walking.
Something about him looked, different.
The top three buttons of his white shirt were undone, revealing the collarbone he usually kept hidden beneath perfectly buttoned collars. His sleeves were rolled carelessly to his forearms, and the expensive watch on his wrist sat slightly crooked, as though he'd forgotten it was even there.
Even his neatly styled hair had fallen out of place, making him look strangely... human.
For the first time since she'd known him, he didn't look like the unshakable CEO of House of Bharadwaj. He looked like a man carrying more pain than he knew how to bear.
Aprajita stood at the entrance for a few silent moments, her eyes never leaving him. Whatever had brought him here, it had shaken him deeply.
Taking a quiet breath, she pushed open the café door and walked towards his table.
The soft chime above the door made Rakshit look up.
Their eyes met.
For a brief second, neither of them spoke.
Aprajita stopped beside the table and searched his tired face before asking softly, "Sir... is everything okay?"
Rakshit held her gaze for a moment before quietly pulling out the chair opposite him. "Sit," he said, his voice unusually tired.
There was no authority in that single word.
Only exhaustion. And somehow that frightened her far more than his anger ever could.
Aprajita didn't say anything. She simply pulled the chair back and sat down, her fingers wrapping around the warm coffee mug the waiter had just placed before her. Lifting her eyes to Rakshit, she waited quietly. She knew interrupting him would only make whatever this was more difficult.
Rakshit remained silent. His gaze stayed fixed on the untouched coffee in front of him as he absentmindedly traced the rim of the cup with his thumb. The muscles in his jaw tightened, making it painfully obvious that he was struggling with something.
The silence stretched between them.
Finally, he looked up. Holding her gaze, he asked quietly, "Will you marry me?"
For a moment, Aprajita forgot how to breathe.
Her heart simply stopped. Those were the words she had imagined hearing countless times.
In countless dreams.
In countless impossible futures.
But never, like this.
She stared at him, unable to blink, unable to speak. Seeing the disbelief on her face, Rakshit looked away and let out a slow breath. "I don't want to lose Dad," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
The words hit her harder than she expected. Slowly lowering her eyes, she felt the fragile hope inside her heart crumble.
Of course. This wasn't a proposal. It was a desperate son's plea.
Rakshit leaned back in his chair and rubbed a tired hand over his face before speaking again. "It won't be a real marriage," he said quietly, his voice gradually returning to the calm, detached tone he used in board meetings.
She looked at him again.
"We'll sign a contract," he continued, folding his hands on the table as though discussing another business deal. "Two years."
He paused briefly before adding, "We'll stay married only on paper."
"My father will believe I've finally settled down," he said, meeting her eyes for a fleeting second. "Once he recovers..." His voice faltered before he corrected himself. "...or once the contract ends, we'll file for divorce."
Aprajita remained silent. Every sentence felt heavier than the last.
"There'll be boundaries," Rakshit continued, his expression composed once again. "We'll respect each other's space."
He paused. "Neither of us will owe the other anything beyond what the contract states."
For the first time since the conversation had begun, he hesitated. "And if..." he began before stopping for a moment, "...if either you or I develop feelings for each other..."
His voice remained calm. "...the contract ends immediately. You'll be free to leave."
Aprajita slowly looked down at the coffee between her hands.
A contract.
A marriage with an expiry date.
No love. No promises. No forever.
She had spent five years secretly wishing she would one day become Rakshit Bharadwaj's wife.
She had never imagined that the day would arrive with terms and conditions attached to it.
After a long silence, she finally looked up. "You've... already thought about all of this?" she asked, unable to hide the ache in her voice.
Rakshit gave a small nod. "I had to."
Silence settled between them once again. Beyond the cafe's glass walls, people laughed, traffic crawled through the evening streets, and the city carried on as though nothing had changed.
Aprajita finally found her voice. She looked at him quietly, her fingers tightening around the coffee mug. "If I agree..." she asked after a long pause, "...what happens to my life after two years?"
Rakshit didn't answer immediately. He simply watched her, waiting for her to finish.
She lowered her eyes before continuing. "Who will marry a woman who couldn't save her first marriage?" A faint, bitter smile touched her lips. "This marriage may not mean anything to you, but it will mean everything to the world outside. They'll only see a divorced woman."
Rakshit looked down at the table. "I know."
She slowly shook her head. "No... you don't." There was no accusation in her voice, only quiet hurt. "Every girl grows up dreaming about her wedding. About a husband who chooses her because he loves her." She looked at him again, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "You're asking me to give all of that up."
Rakshit remained silent for a few moments before drawing a slow breath. "If Dad wasn't this adamant..." he admitted quietly, "...I would've never asked you."
Aprajita looked away. Somehow that answer hurt more than she expected.
After a long silence, she turned back to him. "Then why me?" she asked, her voice steadier now. "Tell Uncle you've met someone else. Find a girl who's willing to accept your conditions."
Rakshit shook his head. "I can't."
"Why?" she asked immediately.
"Dad will find out."
She frowned. "Huhhh? Why me?"
Rakshit leaned back in his chair, his eyes lingering on the coffee that had long since gone cold. "Because..." he began quietly, "...I don't know anyone else the way I know you."
Her eyes lifted to his face.
He gave a faint smile. "I've known you since we were children. Our fathers have been best friends for years." His smile grew softer as an old memory crossed his mind. "You probably don't remember much. I spent most of my school life in boarding school. I'd only see you during holidays, and even then..." He shrugged lightly. "...we hardly spoke."
His gaze returned to hers. "But I've watched you grow up."
Aprajita remained silent.
"You joined House of Bharadwaj years later," Rakshit continued, "and nothing about you had changed."
He leaned forward slightly, his eyes holding hers. "I trust you, Aprajita."
The words caught her completely off guard.
"I know you're not with House of Bharadwaj because of money," he said calmly. "I know you've never tried to use my position for your own benefit. And I know you'll honour a promise, even when it becomes difficult."
He paused for a brief moment before continuing. "And most importantly..." His voice was quiet but certain. "I know you'll respect the boundaries of this marriage."
Aprajita's fingers tightened around the mug.
"You've never crossed a professional line in five years," Rakshit said. "There has never been a misunderstanding between us." A faint smile appeared on his face. "You'll treat this exactly for what it is."
"A contract." The word echoed painfully inside her. She lowered her eyes before he could notice the emotions threatening to surface.
If only he knew. The woman he trusted to never blur the boundaries had spent five years silently crossing them inside her own heart.
The one thing Rakshit Bharadwaj was absolutely certain about was the only thing he had gotten completely wrong.
Rakshit glanced at his watch before looking back at her. His fingers rested lightly against the table as he said quietly, "I need your answer before tomorrow morning."
Aprajita didn't respond. She simply looked at him, hoping he would say something that would make this decision easier.
Instead, Rakshit drew a slow breath and lowered his eyes. "Dad's chemotherapy is scheduled tomorrow," he said, his voice softer than it had been all evening. Looking back at her, he added quietly, "If you decide to help me... do it for him."
Aprajita held his gaze. There was no hope in his eyes.
No love.
Only the quiet desperation of a son who was terrified of losing his father.
After a long silence, she gave a small nod. "I'll let you know."
Rakshit acknowledged her answer with a silent nod.
Aprajita picked up her handbag and slowly stood up. For a brief moment, she remained where she was, her eyes fixed on him, wishing-just once-that he would stop her... or tell her there was another reason he had asked her to marry him.
He didn't. Lowering her eyes, she turned around and quietly walked out of the cafe.
💛
By the time Aprajita reached home, the city had settled into its usual night-time calm. She parked her scooty outside the house and took a deep breath before stepping inside, hoping the quiet outside would somehow calm the storm within her.
The familiar aroma of dinner welcomed her as she entered the living room. Ram Gopal looked up from the newspaper while Malti emerged from the kitchen, drying her hands on her saree.
"You're late today," Malti said, looking at her with concern. "Did work keep you back?"
Aprajita forced a small smile as she placed her handbag on the sofa. "Not really, ma. I stopped at a café on the way." Before either of them could ask another question, she added gently, "I've already had dinner, so don't wait for me."
Malti studied her face for a moment. Something seemed different about her daughter, but she couldn't quite place it. Still, she simply nodded. "Alright. Don't stay up too late."
"I won't," Aprajita replied softly before wishing them goodnight and walking towards her room.
The moment the bedroom door clicked shut behind her, the smile disappeared from her face.
She dropped her handbag onto the chair, slipped off her sandals, and sat down on the edge of the bed. Leaning back against the headboard, she stared blankly at the ceiling.
Will you marry me? The words echoed through her mind once again.
She closed her eyes and let out a slow breath. How was she supposed to live with him?
At the office, it had always been easier. Rakshit was her boss, and work had given her the perfect excuse to hide behind professionalism. Meetings, deadlines, and endless files had protected her from revealing what her heart had quietly carried for five long years.
But living under the same roof, how was she supposed to wake up every morning beside the man she loved and pretend she felt nothing?
Turning onto her side, she hugged a pillow tightly against her chest. The contract itself didn't frighten her.
Her own heart did. She knew herself too well.
If loving him from a distance had already become this difficult, living beside him every single day would only make it impossible.
Another thought suddenly entered her mind, making her grip on the pillow tighten.
What if he finds out?
Rakshit Bharadwaj valued many things. Discipline. Commitment. Perfection. But above everything else, he valued honesty.
That was why he trusted her.
He believed she had never hidden anything from him.
If he ever discovered that she had loved him long before this contract that she had looked into his eyes that evening and lied when he asked whether she had feelings for him, would he ever forgive her?
She didn't need to think about the answer.
No.
Not because she loved him.
But because she had broken the one thing he had always believed about her.
His trust.
Aprajita slowly closed her eyes, a tear escaping despite her efforts to hold it back.
For the first time since she had fallen in love with Rakshit Bharadwaj, she found herself wondering whether saying yes would become the bravest decision of her life or the biggest mistake she would ever make.
💛
The next morning, Aprajita got ready in silence. She tied her hair into a neat ponytail, picked up her handbag, and walked downstairs, where the aroma of freshly made dosa's filled the house.
Malti looked up from the dining table and smiled gently. "Appu, come," she called, placing another dosa on the plate. "Have breakfast before you leave."
Aprajita nodded and slipped into her usual seat beside her father. "Good morning, Papa... Mumma," she said softly, forcing a small smile.
"Good morning, beta," Ram Gopal replied, smiling back as though nothing had changed.
The dining table felt unusually quiet. Ram Gopal unfolded the newspaper while Malti poured coffee into three steel tumblers, but both of them stole occasional glances at their daughter. The question sitting in their hearts remained unspoken.
Aprajita absent-mindedly tore a piece of dosa and dipped it into the chutney. She stared at her plate for a long moment before taking a bite, barely tasting it.
Malti looked at her husband, silently asking if they should bring up the proposal. Ram Gopal caught her gaze and gave a faint shake of his head, telling her to wait.
Neither of them wanted their daughter to feel pressured. A few more moments passed in silence. Then Aprajita slowly placed the spoon beside her plate and looked up.
"Papa... Mumma..." she called quietly, making both of them look at her at once.
She held their gaze for a brief second before saying, "I'll marry Rakshit."
The words settled over the room like complete silence. Ram Gopal looked at Malti, and she was already staring back at him with wide, stunned eyes. Neither of them had expected the answer to come so suddenly.
After a long pause, Ram Gopal spoke gently. "Appu..." He leaned forward slightly. "Are you sure?"
She met his eyes and nodded. "I am."
He studied her face for a few moments before asking softly, "You don't have to do this for anyone."
"I know," she replied.
"Then..." he continued carefully, "...what changed?"
For a brief moment, Aprajita forgot how to breathe. How could she tell them that Rakshit had asked for a contract instead of a marriage?
How could she tell them he had already asked her to refuse?
How could she admit that she had loved him for five years... and still chosen him?
She couldn't.
Looking at the two people who had never hidden anything from her, she did something she had never imagined she would.
She lied. "Rakshit and I spoke yesterday," she said quietly, keeping her voice as steady as she could.
Ram frowned slightly. "You met him?"
She nodded. "We work in the same office papa .. He told me he'll make this marriage work." Lowering her eyes, she added softly, "I think... I should give this relationship a chance." The lie felt heavier than she had expected.
Malti's eyes immediately filled with tears. Reaching across the table, she held Aprajita's hand and smiled through her emotions. "You've made us very happy, Appu."
Aprajita smiled back, though it never reached her eyes. "I know, Ma."
Ram Gopal let out a slow breath he hadn't realised he was holding. "I've known Aravind for more than thirty years," he said warmly. "I know he'll always stand by you."
No, Papa, it's me who has to stand by his son.
The thought stayed locked inside her heart.
Unable to sit there any longer, Aprajita stood up and picked up her handbag. "I should leave," she said, avoiding their eyes. "I have an early meeting."
"So soon?" Malti asked as she got up with her.
Aprajita nodded with a small smile. "I'll be late otherwise."
She bent down and touched both her parents' feet. Ram Gopal rested his hand on her head, while Malti gently cupped her face before blessing her with trembling fingers.
As she walked towards the door, Ram Gopal called after her. "I'll inform Aravind."
She paused for a brief second before nodding. "Okay, Papa."
A few moments later, her scooty disappeared through the gate. Ram Gopal stood at the entrance until she was out of sight. Then he looked at his wife, took out his phone, and smiled with quiet relief. "It's time to call Aravind."
Far ahead on the road, Aprajita tightened her grip on the handlebars as the morning breeze brushed against her face.
She wasn't afraid of becoming Rakshit Bharadwaj's wife.
She was afraid of becoming his wife through a lie because from today onwards every promise she made, every step she took towards him would begin with a truth she had chosen to hide.
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