Sanya's POV
I walked toward the room that had always been given to me whenever I stayed at the Rathore mansion. It was a room I'd practically grown up in, just beside Ayaan's. And even though I was older now, I could still feel the remnants of the childhood me-obsessed with Ayaan. It wasn't just him I wanted; it was everything he had, including his attention.
Shaking my head, I tried to push those childish thoughts away. Opening the door, I felt a wave of nostalgia rush over me. Everything was the same. The room felt like it had been frozen in time, just as I remembered it-comforting yet familiar. The soft light filtering through the window, the old books on the shelf, and the pastel-colored curtains that always fluttered slightly when the wind blew, all brought back memories I had almost forgotten.
I ran my fingers over the wooden desk near the window, tracing the faint scratches on the surface. This was where I used to sit for hours, doodling nonsense in my notebooks while Ayaan sat across from me, pretending to study but secretly sketching ridiculous cartoons of me. I smiled at the memory.
Shaking off the nostalgia, I made my way to the closet and pulled it open. Aunty had neatly arranged my clothes, just as she always did when I visited. My heart softened at the sight. She never missed a detail.
I grabbed an oversized t-shirt and a pair of shorts before heading into the washroom. The moment the cold water hit my face, I sighed, letting it wash away the tiredness clinging to me. Today had been exhausting, both mentally and physically.
Once I was changed, I walked back into the room and climbed onto the bed, grabbing my phone from my purse. My inbox was flooded with emails-brand collaborations, PR events, and final confirmations for my upcoming photoshoot with Luxe. I scanned through the details absentmindedly. Nightwear campaign. Lovely. Another round of looking sultry in silk while mentally calculating how much longer I had to pose before I could collapse in bed.
Sighing, I switched to Instagram, expecting my usual flood of notifications. But the moment the app loaded, my eyes widened.
More than a thousand notifications.
What the-?
I frowned and tapped on the notification icon. Dozens of posts. Tags. Mentions. What the hell was happening?
Curious, I clicked on one of the trending posts.
"Are the Rathores and Raichands breaking their alliance?"
I blinked. Breaking the alliance? When did that happen?
My frown deepened as I scrolled further.
"Is there a dispute between the families? No reunion photos this year, even though the Raichands were spotted entering the mansion."
Oh. That.
Every year, like clockwork, our families posted pictures of our annual reunion dinner. But this time, because of all the chaos, we had completely forgotten. And now, because we skipped one photo-op, people were convinced we were at war.
I rubbed my temples. God, people need to calm down.
Just as I was about to ignore the gossip, another post caught my attention.
"Are Ayaan Singh Rathore and Sanya Raichand still together?"
I stared at the screen, my brain short-circuiting.
Together?
Since when?!
Before I could even process the absurdity, another post popped up.
"Sources say the couple hasn't been seen together in a while. Trouble in paradise?"
I let out a loud, disbelieving laugh. Trouble? In what? Our imaginary relationship?!
Shaking my head, I opened my camera, adjusting the lighting before running a hand through my hair. If I didn't address this now, it would spiral into something even more ridiculous.
Pressing record, I leaned into the camera with an unimpressed expression.
"So, apparently, the internet has decided to give me a whole new relationship status overnight. First things first-there is no 'Rathore-Raichand war.' Our families are completely fine. We were just too busy eating to pose for pictures." I rolled my eyes dramatically.
I paused for effect before continuing, "And about me and Ayaan-" I leaned in closer to the camera, lowering my voice mockingly, "we are not a couple."
Then, flashing a cheeky grin, I repeated, "We. Are. Not. A. Couple."
I placed a hand over my heart. "Shocking, right? Breathtaking news. Can't believe it myself."
Sitting back, I smirked. "We just grew up together, and somehow, that means we're married now? Wow. I mean, at this rate, if I sit next to a stranger on a flight, are we engaged?"
A small laugh escaped me. "Anyway, love the creativity, but maybe focus on something real next time?"
With that, I ended the recording and posted it.
Tossing my phone onto the bed, I let out a tired sigh and lay back, staring at the ceiling.
Hopefully, that would shut people up for a while.
But would it shut my heart and my mind.
Why was this feeling giving me a ache.
Closing my eyes, I willed sleep to take over, but before I could even get comfortable-
A loud, sharp cry filled the air.
My eyes snapped open. The baby.
Closing my eyes, I willed sleep to take over, hoping exhaustion would drag me into unconsciousness. My body ached from the long day, and I just wanted to shut everything out.
But before I could even get comfortable-
A loud, sharp cry filled the air.
My eyes snapped open.
The baby.
I lay still, waiting, listening. Maybe she would calm down in a few seconds. Maybe Ayaan would handle it.
The cries grew louder, more urgent, cutting through the silence like a blade.
I turned onto my side, squeezing my eyes shut. Ignore it. Ayaan was there. It was his responsibility. I had no reason to interfere.
And yet, something inside me twisted. The cries weren't stopping. If anything, they were getting more desperate, almost pleading.
Damn it.
Before I could second-guess myself, I threw the blanket aside and got up. My bare feet made no sound as I stepped into the dimly lit hallway.
I hesitated in front of his door.
If this had been a year ago, I wouldn't have thought twice before barging in. But now? Everything had changed. Ayaan barely spoke to me unless it was necessary. Would he even want me here?
Maybe he'd think I was just like the others-desperate for his attention.
That thought alone was enough to make me turn back. My fingers curled around the doorknob of my own room.
Let it go.
Click.
I turned instinctively at the soft sound.
Ayaan stood in his doorway, the baby in his arms. His white t-shirt was slightly crumpled, his dark hair messier than usual, falling into his eyes. But his expression was blank. Guarded.
His gaze met mine, unreadable, but he didn't say anything.
I quickly looked away, stepping back slightly. Dangerous. This is dangerous.
"Is something wrong?" I asked, my voice quieter than intended.
Ayaan let out a sharp exhale. "I don't know why she's crying."
I glanced at the baby, her tiny face scrunched up in distress, her little fists waving in the air. My lips parted slightly as if I could figure out what was wrong just by looking at her.
"Did you figure out something?" he asked.
I pressed my lips together. "I'm not exactly a baby expert," I muttered, looking away.
He let out a slow breath and looked to the side, as if the conversation itself exhausted him. "So what should I do?"
"Maybe she's hungry," I suggested.
"I tried. She won't eat."
"Diaper?"
"Checked. It's clean."
I hesitated. I wasn't sure why, but I wanted to hold her. Maybe because she looked so small, so helpless. Maybe because Ayaan looked... lost.
"Can I hold her?"
Ayaan didn't react at first. Then, wordlessly, he stepped back inside his room, tilting his head slightly-a silent invitation.
I followed.
The room was dim, only a small bedside lamp casting a soft glow. The bed was unmade, papers scattered on the desk, as if he had been working before the baby started crying.
He handed her to me carefully, his fingers brushing mine for the briefest second.
I swallowed, ignoring the way my skin tingled from the accidental touch.
She was warm. So, so tiny. I rocked her gently, walking across the room in slow steps.
Her cries softened almost instantly.
Ayaan exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "That worked."
I didn't say anything. I just kept swaying slightly, feeling her tiny fingers clutch at my shirt.
"You should sit. You'll get tired," he said after a moment.
I glanced at the couch, stepping towards it.
"Wait."
I stopped mid-step.
"I spilled water on it earlier."
I stared at him. "So where exactly am I supposed to sit?"
He hesitated before motioning toward the bed. "Sit there."
I didn't want to.
But my arms were starting to ache, and when I shifted slightly to hand him the baby, she whined, her tiny face scrunching up again.
I sighed. Fine.
Sitting on the very edge of the bed, I adjusted the baby in my lap, letting her tiny fingers curl around mine. She was peaceful now, her little eyes fluttering closed.
Ayaan sat on the other side, a noticeable distance between us.
The silence stretched on.
"Thank you," he muttered after a while, his voice barely above a whisper.
I nodded. "It's fine."
Another long silence.
"You can go now," he said, leaning back slightly against the headboard.
I looked down at the baby in my arms. If I moved, she'd cry again.
"I'll wait," I said simply.
He didn't argue. He just turned his head, staring at the ceiling. His expression unreadable.
The minutes passed.
At some point, my eyelids grew heavy.
I didn't know when I drifted off, only that warmth surrounded me-the baby in my arms, the soft sheets beneath me.
And Ayaan, sitting just a few inches away.
Still awake.
Still watching.