72. BIRTHDAY ( 1 )

AUTHOR’S POV

As the food was done, they both went to their room. The moment they entered, Abhimanyu locked the door, pulled her close, and gently took her hands, placing them on his chest. One of his hands wrapped around her waist while the other tangled in her hair, pulling her into a passionate kiss.

It wasn’t rough.

It wasn’t obsessive.

It was love.

Pure, raw love poured into her as his hands slowly cupped her cheeks, breaking the kiss softly.

“I love you, Shivuu…” his voice came out in a whisper, filled with sincerity.

Shivnya smiled, brushing her thumb over his lips. “I know… but your birthday surprises aren’t over yet.”

Abhimanyu’s brows knitted in confusion. “Huh? What do you mean?”

She smirked playfully, making him sit on the bed before walking to the dressing table. Pulling out a folded white paper from the drawer, she turned back with mischief dancing in her eyes.

“So, Mr. Abhimanyu Shivnya Singh Rathore, you are going to play a mystery game. Alone. Your birthday gifts are hidden all around the haveli, and you…” she leaned closer with a teasing grin, “…are not allowed to take my help.”

Abhimanyu widened his eyes. “What? Why? You’re my wife, Shivuu! How can I—”

“Stop right there, Mr. Drama King!” she cut him off with a giggle. “No emotional paragraphs. I said no help, and I mean it. I’ve prepared a lot of things for you tonight, baby. Now here…” she placed the note in his hand, “…is your first clue. Go find your gift.”

She turned to leave, but before stepping out, she looked back with a smile. “All the best. I hope you find them all…”

Abhimanyu smirked, his excitement rising as he unfolded the note.

“I am where you take the longest to decide, because you always have too many options. But your wife… always decides for you.”

He read the clue twice, pacing in the room, his mind ticking. “Where do I take the longest to decide…?”

Suddenly, a smile spread across his face. “Clothes. I can never pick what to wear and she always does it for me!”

Without wasting another second, he ran to the closet and opened it. As soon as the doors swung open, a small note slipped down, falling right in the center.

“Don’t you dare make this closet a mess. Your gift is in the right-side drawer of my closet.”

Laughing, Abhimanyu opened the drawer. His breath hitched. Inside was a pristine white shirt covered with soft lip prints, and at the back of the shirt were engraved words: My Wife, along with Shivnya’s pictures stitched elegantly into the fabric.

A warm smile tugged at his lips. He pressed a kiss to the lip prints, then to her pictures, his heart swelling. Without even realizing, he quickly slipped on the shirt in excitement—completely forgetting that he was still in his dhoti pants.

Just then, another folded clue slipped out from under the shirt.

“I am at the place where you and your wife almost made out for the first time.”

Abhimanyu’s eyes widened as the memory hit him, and a mischievous grin curled his lips. “The study room…”

He ran through the corridors, pushing the door open. Right in the center of the room stood a large photo frame covered in layers of newspaper.

Climbing onto the sofa, he carefully tore off the paper, revealing their wedding picture beneath. His fingers traced over their smiling faces as a soft chuckle left his lips.

He never imagined that such a picture even existed. Their marriage had been intimate, attended only by close family, and no professional photographer had been hired. Yet here it was—a breathtakingly sweet moment frozen in time.

Abhimanyu and Shivnya were taking pheras, and in that frame, Shivnya’s gaze was locked onto him with so much love that it almost burned through the paper. His blood was being simmered in her hairline, marking her as his, and she looked at him like he was her entire universe.

Abhimanyu’s chest tightened as he stared at the photo. It felt like he was falling in love with her all over again. With a soft smile, he pecked the glass over her face. That’s when he noticed a tiny sticky note at the corner of the frame.

“It’s just starting… wait till the night.”

A smirk tugged at his lips. He flipped the note and found another line scrawled in bold:

“Check in the drawer, Daddy 🤤😋”

Heat pooled in his stomach as he muttered, “Oh, you’re playing with fire, baby girl…”

Walking over to his study table, he pulled open the drawer and found a small wrapped gift. But when he tore the wrapping, another layer greeted him. Then another. And another. Five times he unwrapped until finally, his fingers brushed against a small polaroid photo book.

When he opened it, his breath hitched.

The first picture was Shivnya in a black, sinful outfit hugging every single curve of her body perfectly. His fingers trembled slightly as he flipped through the pages. Her collarbone. Her back. Her lips, parted just enough to drive him crazy. Her ass was perfectly arched. Her eyes burning with seduction. Her mole. Her hair cascading over her shoulders. Every shot was a piece of art, making his body ache for her.

And then… the last picture.

Her areola, captured tastefully yet so erotically, with a calligraphy note written on the side:

“Want it, Daddy?”

Abhimanyu’s lips parted unconsciously as he breathed out, “Yes… baby…” His voice was low, desperate, and rough with need.

He snapped the book shut, his entire body on fire, groaning in frustration. “Shivuuu… just wait till tonight. You’re going to pay for this…”

Two more notes slipped out of the book as if she knew exactly how he would react.

“Did you like it? Huh? Obvious, you little sucker 😉”

Abhimanyu smirked despite the throbbing ache in his pants. Then he opened the second note:

“I have sweetness like honey. My smell is like exotic fruits. But you can’t eat me…”

“What the hell…” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. The clue made no sense in his current condition. With a sharp breath, he slammed the polaroid book shut. “Cold shower. Now. Or I’ll end this game way too early.”

He stormed into his room and turned on the icy water, letting it hit his burning skin, trying to cool down the storm she had created inside him.

---

Meanwhile, in another corner of the haveli, Shivnya was secretly preparing for his birthday party in Dadi’s room. Her hands moved quickly, decorating, arranging, setting everything perfectly while a soft smile danced on her lips.

At first, she had thought of throwing a grand bash for him. But then she realized that in such a formal gathering, they wouldn’t even get a moment for themselves. So instead… she decided on something more intimate. Something just for the family.

—

Abhimanyu stood under the cold shower for what felt like an eternity, letting the icy water hit his heated skin. Thirty whole minutes… and still, those damn pictures of her were burned into his mind. The curve of her body, the teasing calligraphy, that sinful last picture…

“Control yourself, Rathore,” he muttered under his breath as he finally stepped out, running a towel through his damp hair.

Determined to focus on the game again, he slipped into an olive-green shirt paired with light brown pants. Taking a deep breath, he unfolded the clue again:

“I have sweetness like honey. My smell is like exotic fruits. But you can’t eat me…”

“Honey… exotic fruits… what the hell could that be?” he muttered, pacing the room. He searched the kitchen. He even checked the garden. Nothing.

Walking back through the corridor, he caught sight of his mother and Shivnya chatting near the kitchen. Perfect.

“Maa,” he called out casually, “what can be sweetness like honey and smell exotic like fruit?”

Before his mother could open her mouth, a familiar voice cut in. “Ahem! You are NOT allowed to take help, Mr. Rathore.”

Abhimanyu turned with a slow, sarcastic smile. “Correction, Mrs. Rathore. The condition is for YOU. Not for the family. You can’t change the rules now.”

Shivnya gasped playfully and swatted his arm. “Oh, really? Clever boy. Still, out!”

He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a mock whisper. “You just wait, Shivuu. You’re leaving me alone on my birthday, huh? I won’t spare you tonight.”

Shivnya’s cheeks flushed but she pushed him away lightly. “Yeah yeah, we’ll see. Now go! Hush!”

Abhimanyu stomped his foot like a sulking little boy, earning a giggle from his wife. He wandered down the corridor, trying to trick family members into giving hints, but Shivnya had already warned everyone.

And then… Rishi appeared with a stack of files. Abhimanyu’s eyes lit up. He grabbed his assistant by the collar and dragged him into a corner.

“You! Come here.”

Rishi blinked, startled. “Sir? What’s wrong?”

Abhimanyu shoved the note in his hand. “What does this mean? What could it be?”

Rishi skimmed it once and scoffed. “Sir, this is so easy. It’s a perfume!”

Abhimanyu’s eyes widened. “PERFUME—”

A sharp voice rang from behind. “MR. RATHORETHIS IS CHEATING!”

Both men froze. Shivnya stood there, arms crossed, eyebrow arched like a queen catching her king red-handed.

Abhimanyu grinned wickedly and shouted, “Everything is fair in loving you, my lovely wife!”

Everyone in the corridor chuckled, shaking their heads at the drooling husband who couldn’t get enough of his wife.

Abhimanyu dashed to their room, flung open the cabinet, and sure enough… there it was. A sleek bottle of perfume with a tiny heart tag attached. Another clue was tied to it.

---

The whole day went by with him running around the haveli, solving clues, finding gifts, each one making his heart (and body) ache for her more.

By the time evening rolled around, it was 7 PM. Shivnya had been searching for him and finally found him sitting on the glass table in their room, frowning at the next clue in his hand.

“Abhimanyu!” she gasped, “What are you doing? Get off that glass table, it’ll break with your weight!”

He whipped his head up, eyes wide in mock-offense. “Excuse me?! What do you mean ‘with my weight’?!”

Shivnya pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh. “N-nothing! Just… get down!”

He puffed his cheeks like a sulky little boy and crossed his arms. “No. I have to find this gift before the next clue. I’m not moving.”

With an amused sigh, Shivnya walked over and held out her hand. “Give me the clue. I’ll help you.”

Abhimanyu froze. His wife—the same woman who had forbidden even his mother from helping—was offering help herself?

His eyes narrowed suspiciously as he slowly handed it over. “What’s your game, Mrs. Rathore…?”

But before he could even finish the sentence, Shivnya snatched the clue out of his hand, her mischievous grin giving away nothing.

Abhimanyu jumped off the table in a flash, closing the distance between them until their breaths mingled. His voice dropped, low and teasing.

“Shivuu… you’re breaking your own rules. Should I… punish you for that?”

Shivnya looked at him with a mischievous glint. “Shut up and follow me.”

Abhimanyu obeyed like a good baby boy, trailing her back into their room. As soon as they entered, she pointed to his closet. “Go. All your gifts are inside.”

He stepped in and froze. Hanging neatly was a three-piece dark blue suit paired with deep blue ruby cufflinks, a leather belt with a lion-claw engraved buckle, and his favorite brand of Armani shoes.

Abhimanyu turned to her, eyes wide. “You… customized it? Wow, baby! This is… this is perfect.” He hugged her tight, burying his face in her neck. “All your gifts were so beautiful, so thoughtful… so us.”

Shivnya smiled softly. “There are still more surprises. Now get dressed. I’m going for a shower.”

He smirked teasingly, ready to make a comment, but she cut him off instantly. “Nope. Don’t even think about saying it. You, mister, are going to change. I’m going to bathe.”

Abhimanyu chuckled, shaking his head as she slipped into the bathroom. He started changing into his suit, his hands brushing over the fine fabric, the scent of her gift wrapping lingering faintly.

Shivnya’s shower was slow and soothing. Afterward, she stepped into the closet and found it empty—Abhimanyu was gone. Smiling to herself, she began draping her beautiful cetacean-blue chiffon pre-stitched saree. The delicate fabric hugged her in all the right places, and she was just adjusting the pleats when she felt a familiar presence.

Abhimanyu appeared silently, his gaze locking on her like a predator. He stepped close, slipping an arm around her waist and burying his face in the crook of her neck. His voice was husky. “You smell like… vanilla buttercup.”

A small chuckle left her lips. “And you, Mr. Rathore, look absolutely sinful in that suit.”

She was sliding bangles onto her wrist when he suddenly stepped back, eyes narrowing. “Wait… did you learn to wear a saree? Or did someone help you? Because last I checked… you can’t drape one without me.”

Shivnya turned, leaning closer with a playful smirk. “It’s a pre-stitched saree.”

The moment those words left her lips, Abhimanyu’s fingers curled around her neck—not harsh, but with possessive intensity. His eyes darkened, voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “How dare you… wear a pre-stitched saree?”

Shivnya blinked in surprise, then smiled softly. “Why? I can wear them too, can’t I? And honestly, baby, I should learn. For how long will I keep depending on you to drape my saree?”

Her innocent words ignited something primal in him. His arm snaked around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest. His voice was low, commanding, and tender all at once. “Shhh… you won’t ever learn. Because the only hands that will wrap you in a saree… are mine.”

Before she could respond, he stepped back slightly, grabbed the soft pallu draped over her shoulder, and with one sharp tug—tore it apart.

Shivnya gasped, eyes wide in shock, as his voice filled the room, each word heavy with love and possession.

“YOU ARE MINE TO CHERISH AND ADORN. I WANT TO BE THE ONE TO WRAP YOU IN A SAREE, ALWAYS. IF YOU EVER CHOOSE TO WEAR ONE WITHOUT ME—OR A PRE-STITCHED AGAIN—I’LL RIP IT APART AND BURN IT. BECAUSE THIS… THIS IS OUR BOND. OUR INTIMATE RITUAL. AND IT WILL ONLY EVER BELONG TO US.”

The torn fabric slipped from his fingers to the floor as silence hung between them—thick, heated, and intimate. Shivnya’s breath trembled as she looked into his eyes, seeing love, desire, and raw emotion burning in them

Shivnya’s eyes widened as she looked at the shredded pallu on the floor. “NOW WHAT WILL I WEAR?!” she yelled, her voice echoing through the room. “I specially twinned it with your suit! And now I don’t even have another saree ready!”

Abhimanyu blinked, guilt flashing in his eyes as he gave her an apologetic smile. “Uh… wear something else, baby. A dress maybe?”

Her glare could have burned him alive. “NO! I want to wear the saree. Only the saree!”

He held his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay! Calm down. I’ll find you one.”

Abhimanyu rushed to her closet, carefully searching through the neatly arranged clothes without messing anything up. Finally, he pulled out a golden saree and turned to her with a triumphant grin. “Found it.”

Shivnya crossed her arms, pouting. “Golden? Seriously? With your blue suit? We’ll look like mismatched wedding guests!”

He stepped closer, wrapping the fabric around her gently. “Shh… you’ll look beautiful.”

“All the time wearing this, you better listen to me!” she huffed, still pouting as he began draping the saree over her.

“This is not looking good.”

“You’ll look gorgeous.”

“It doesn’t match at all! The theme was blue!”

“You’ll stand out. My golden queen.”

Shivnya shot him a deadly side-eye as he continued wrapping the pleats. “From next time, if you even think about tearing my saree, I swear I will tear you and throw you in the dustbin, Mr. Rathore.”

He smirked, leaning close to whisper, “I won’t… as long as you promise no pre-stitched sarees, no other hands helping you, and never wearing one without me.”

She scoffed, muttering under her breath as the bickering continued:

“This saree is not looking good.”
“You look perfect.”

“It’s not matching with yours!”
“You’ll be the most unique one there.”

“I hate you.”
“I know you love me the most.”

“I’m not going to leave you for tearing my saree.”
“And I’m never letting you go.”

“I will look like an idiot! I decided the whole theme and now I’m wearing GOLDEN!”
“You’ll look like my goddess.”

“I. HATE. YOU.”
“I. LOVE. YOU.”

By the time the last pleat was tucked, Shivnya stood with puffed cheeks and an adorably angry face, refusing to meet his eyes. Abhimanyu stepped back to admire her, his expression softening.

“You’re stunning…” he murmured.

“Shut up,” she said curtly, still pouting. “Let’s go. Your surprise party is waiting.”

Abhimanyu grinned, watching her stomp away in her golden saree, her irritation making her even more beautiful to him. He followed behind, his heart swelling with love for the woman who could fight with him and still make his world feel perfect.

As they appeared at the top of the stairs, the whole family clapped, and poppers went off, filling the mansion with a soft pop-pop sound. The entire place was draped in a blue and white theme—subtle, dreamy, and elegant, not too flashy but absolutely mesmerizing.

Hand in hand, Abhimanyu and Shivnya descended the stairs. As her eyes swept across the hall, she noticed everyone dressed in the theme—except her. She was the only one standing out in a shimmering golden saree.

Shivnya’s gaze caught her brother Aarav and his wife Avantika, who were already there. Her lips curved into a smile when she spotted Avantika’s little baby bump. Her cousins Divit, Sanj, and Aayansh were also present. One by one, everyone stepped forward to wish Abhimanyu a happy birthday.

It was an intimate, low-key celebration with just the closest ones—her cousins and his sister. But while they were greeting Abhimanyu, Shivnya could feel all eyes on her, the confusion evident.

It was Sanj who finally broke the silence with a raised brow, “Umm… was there a last-minute theme change?”

Shivnya mentally cursed herself, her eyes immediately snapping to Abhimanyu, who looked back with a pleadingly sorry face. She plastered on a fake smile, giving him a deadly side-eye, and replied smoothly, “Oh… no. Actually, I was ironing the border of my saree and it got burned suddenly, so… I wore this instead.”

Everyone gave a soft understanding smile while Abhimanyu stood there trying not to laugh.

Yuvraj clapped his hands lightly, breaking the moment. “Alright then, let’s cut the cake!”

Shivnya hummed in agreement and brought out a small yet adorable cake. She had already prepared something extra sweet for the family as another surprise for Abhimanyu later.

Abhimanyu cut the cake, feeding the first bite to Shivnya and then to everyone else as the family cheered for him.

“Now,” Yuvraj announced with a grin, “it’s dance time!”

Music began to play and the first on the dance floor were Aarav and Avantika. Abhimanyu turned to Shivnya, offering his hand with a soft smile. She placed her hand in his, and they joined the dance. Slowly, all the couples followed, filling the floor with laughter and movement.

Poor Sanj, however, became the center of playful chaos as all four brothers kept shuffling her between them, twirling her from one to another. Her annoyed expressions only made everyone laugh harder.

Eventually, the elders stepped aside, letting the younger ones continue dancing. Abhimanyu, Shivnya, Aarav, and Avantika retreated to one corner, drinks in hand, enjoying the moment.

Shivnya leaned forward with a soft smile, her hand brushing against Avantika’s belly. “Do you feel the baby kick yet?”

Avantika giggled and nodded. “Sometimes. It’s the weirdest, most beautiful feeling ever. But…” She suddenly smirked and glanced at Shivnya’s saree. “Tell me honestly—did the saree really burn, or did it get spoiled during a make-out session?”

Abhimanyu and Aarav both choked on their whiskey at the same time, coughing violently.

Aarav pointed a finger at his wife in disbelief, “Avantika! Your hormones are really messing with your head. At least don’t say such things in front of me—she’s my little sister!”

Abhimanyu joined in, glaring at Avantika while trying not to laugh, “Seriously! You need to stop this nonchalant behavior—I’m your elder brother, for God’s sake!”

Avantika burst out laughing, her giggles echoing through the room as Shivnya covered her flushed face while the men continued to glare at her playfully.

Dinner was laid out in the grand dining hall, the soft clinking of cutlery mixing with the warm hum of family chatter. By now, Shivnya’s earlier anger had melted away, replaced with laughter as she sat beside Abhimanyu, watching her family enjoy the evening.

The butlers soon entered carrying silver trays, placing delicate plates of ghewar before everyone. The sweet aroma of saffron and ghee filled the air.

Abhimanyu was the first to take a bite. As he chewed thoughtfully, his brows furrowed. “Maa… who made this? It doesn’t taste the same as yours.”

Ridhimaa smiled faintly. “I was busy, beta, so someone else prepared it. Tell me, how is it?”

Abhimanyu tilted his head, making a dramatic thinking face. “Hmm… it’s good. I mean… not bad. But not the great one either. ”

The words hit Shivnya like a soft thud in her chest. She lowered her gaze, forcing a small smile to hide her disappointment. For the past ten days, she had been secretly trying to learn how to make the perfect ghewar. She knew it wasn’t easy; mastery came with years of practice. But still, she had poured her heart into this.

Ridhimaa’s eyes twinkled as she leaned forward. “Are you sure about that answer? Think once again.”

Abhimanyu popped another bite into his mouth and shrugged casually. “Yeah, yeah, I’m sure.”

A knowing smile tugged at Ridhimaa’s lips as she dropped the truth. “Shivnya cooked it.”

The table went silent for a heartbeat before breaking into soft chuckles. Abhimanyu froze mid-bite, his eyes snapping to his mother in disbelief. “What?”

Ridhimaa only nodded, laughing under her breath.

Abhimanyu’s gaze darted to his wife. Shivnya sat there, giving him the blankest expression imaginable. Panic surged through him as he put the plate down and immediately backtracked.

“No, no, wifey! What I meant was—it’s amazing! The best! The bestest ghewar I’ve ever had. It’s so creamy, so perfectly—”

Before he could finish, Shivnya interrupted softly, “You don’t have to lie, Abhi. I know it’s not as good as Maa’s. But… It's my first time. At least it turned out decent.”

Relief washed over him seeing the small, genuine smile on her face. She wasn’t angry, and that was enough for him.

The family continued enjoying the dessert when Ranveer suddenly called out, “Shivu, come here.”

Confused, Shivnya walked over to her father-in-law. Ranveer reached into his side pocket and pulled out a velvet case. Opening it, he revealed a beautiful pair of gold bangles.

“These are for you,” he said warmly. “Your first time cooking for the family… and such delicious food too. You deserve it.”

Gasps echoed around the table, especially from the younger ones.

“Bade papa!” Tanmay immediately jumped in, his eyes wide. “I also helped Bhabhi make it! Where’s my gift?”

Ranveer gave him a sharp look, trying to suppress a smile, but before he could respond, Abhimanyu snorted. “Why don’t you just change your gender already? Always greedy for jewellery and money.”

Laughter erupted around the table, the sound filling the hall. Shivnya hugged her father-in-law tightly. “Thank you, Papa,” she whispered, her heart swelling at the gesture.

One by one, the family began leaving after wishing Abhimanyu one last time for the night, the warmth of the evening lingering in every corner of the mansion.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:
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