GAURII’S POV

After we finished eating, the designer arrived. When Abhimaan asked me about the kind of clothes I wanted, I froze.

I’ve only ever worn kurtis before my marriage and sarees after it. Thinking about wearing anything else felt… strange, like stepping into a completely new phase of my life.

But nothing was as uncomfortable as the moment when I had to ask her for undergarments. My face burned with embarrassment. Before marriage, my mother always bought those things for me, and after marriage, I bought them myself. I had never said it out loud to anyone. Asking a stranger felt so awkward… almost shameful.

When the designer finally left, I changed into the clothes she had brought. But the moment my toe touched the floor, Abhimaan scooped me up into his arms. He’s always so careful—he doesn’t even let my feet touch the ground.

He carried me back to his room so I could change comfortably. While I was inside, he waited outside like a gentleman.

When I was done and called him in, we sat together and talked for a while. That’s when he surprised me—he asked me to be his friend.

For a moment, I couldn’t believe it. From last night till now, I had been judging him constantly, thinking of him as just another powerful man who might hurt me. But… he wasn’t like that. I would have agreed so easily if it wasn’t for my baby, but something about his words felt genuine.

I said yes.

Then, with a warm smile, he asked if I wanted to explore the house.

Right now, I’m still in his arms as he carries me around, showing me everything. But instead of admiring the house, my eyes keep drifting back to him.

His penthouse is enormous—there’s a gym, a huge study room, a luxurious kitchen, and at least six or seven bedrooms, apart from the master bedroom where I’ve been staying. I even caught sight of a massive bathroom with a jacuzzi, and another room that looked like a private sauna.

It was all so overwhelming.

When we returned to the living area, he guided me toward a set of tall doors.

“Pull the doors to the right,” he said.

I did as he asked.

“This,” he announced, a hint of pride in his voice, “is the most beautiful place in my penthouse.”

It was a balcony.

He carried me toward the railing. Out of instinct, I glanced down. My heart dropped. The ground felt miles away, and my entire body tensed. I hate heights.

Suddenly, a horrible thought clawed its way into my mind—What if he throws me over?

Panic surged through me, sharp and suffocating.

“Put me down,” I blurted, my voice shaky but urgent.

He looked at me, confused. “What happened?”

Tears filled my eyes, and sweat broke out across my forehead. I didn’t even realize how loud and sharp my next words sounded. “Just put me down!”

Abhimaan’s face shifted instantly, concern flooding his expression. He set me carefully on the ground.

As soon as my feet touched the floor, I rushed inside, my breaths coming in short, shallow gasps. My mind was still spiraling with fear.

Abhimaan followed, catching up to me. “Gaurii,” he said softly, “why are you making such a strange face? What’s wrong?”

I turned to him, clutching the hem of shirt , trying to steady my breathing.

“I… I’m phobic to heights,” I whispered. “And you—” my voice broke, “you were taking me near that huge balcony. I thought… I thought you were going to throw me over.”

Abhimaan froze, staring at me as if I’d said the most impossible thing in the world. Then, without a word, he pulled me into a tight hug.

I didn’t think—I just hugged him back, clinging to him like a lifeline.

His voice was rough with emotion as he said, “Never, Gaurii. Never. Even if I’m drunk or completely out of my senses, I could never think of doing something like that with you . Don’t ever let such a thought cross your mind.”

He took me to the sofa and made me sit there and took my hands in his and he said “ Never please don't think like this I just took there because I loved that place a lot and I thought to show you also but even if would have known a bit also you are phobic to heights so I wouldn't have took you there ” I nodded and understood he didn't do it purposely and I said “ I know I just thought ” he nodded with that

And then he went into the room to come with a tube of cream and he took my feets in his lap. I was hesitating but still he took and applied the cream on my feet which the doctor told me to apply .

That night he again cooked for me and we both had dinner together. My eyes were again and again glancing at him thinking about , does men even look like this ..?

That night he tucked me into bed again. Maybe he went back to sleep in room, I wasn’t sure. As I lay there, my hand instinctively moved over my very small baby bump. For the first time in all my pregnancies, I felt it—really felt it. A wave of new emotions washed over me. I started whispering to my baby, telling them about this strange yet beautiful feeling, my mind drifting towards thoughts of their father.

What would he be doing right now? Probably storming into my mother’s house, insulting her, accusing me of running away with another man. The whole village must be buzzing with names for me, for my mother, and even for this child. But none of it mattered anymore. All that mattered was protecting this tiny life inside me from that torturous man. If I hadn’t left last night, I might have lost my baby forever.

I didn’t even realize when I fell asleep, still whispering to my child, still worrying about the world outside.

---

Morning

A soft knock woke me up. My eyes fluttered open.

“Who…?” I asked groggily.

“It’s me, Abhimaan,” came the deep reply.

I drew in a breath, straightened up, and said, “Yeah, come in.”

He walked in, dressed in a black vest drenched with sweat. His broad shoulders and bulky arms glistened, veins standing out. I couldn’t help but look at him. Breaking the silence, he said,

“You should get freshened up. I’ve appointed some staff—you should meet them. And the designer will be coming soon with your clothes.”

I nodded. He walked closer, then added gently, “Let me help you to the bathroom.”

Flustered, I quickly stopped him. “Wait… actually, I think I can manage that part myself. You don’t have to. You can help me with other things.”

I was embarrassed saying it, but he simply nodded. “Okay. But if you need help, call me without thinking twice.”

I gave him a small smile. He squeezed my hand softly. “I won’t carry you, but I’ll walk you to the door.”

That single gesture overwhelmed me. He led me to the bathroom, waited outside, and when I stepped out, he was still there—waiting. Without a word, he scooped me up in his arms. My hands wrapped naturally around his neck. I didn’t know why he insisted on carrying me again and again, but it never felt wrong. It felt… right.

He set me on the couch in the living room. Four people stood waiting.

“This is the chef,” Abhimaan introduced, “he knows Indian food. She will assist him. These two will handle dusting and cleaning every morning.”

I nodded politely. Then he turned to me.

“What would you like for breakfast?”

I smiled faintly. “Whatever you’re eating. I’m not choosy.”

His eyes softened. “I know you’re not. But still.”

I thought for a moment, and from last night I was craving misal pav so I admitted, “Uhmm… maybe misal pav?”

He gave me a curious look but nodded. With that, the staff dispersed.

“You sit here. I’ll come after taking a bath,” he said, leaving me alone.

My hand instinctively went to my belly again. This was the second week of my fifth month, and for the first time I could feel a tiny bump. I was already falling in love with it.

The aroma from the kitchen tempted me beyond control. Quietly, I tiptoed there, only to be caught by the staff.

“Do you want anything, Mrs. Greyson?” the chef asked.

I smiled nervously. “I’m Gaurii… just call me Gaurii.”

They nodded warmly. “Can I… cook, until he comes?” I asked softly.

They exchanged glances, then hesitated. “Please,” I whispered.

Finally, they nodded, and I began cooking. My mouth watered as the flavors filled the room. But just fifteen minutes later, his voice thundered through the house.

“Gauriii…?”

My body shivered. “I—I’m in the kitchen…” I called out meekly.

Within seconds, Abhimaan appeared. His eyes softened when they landed on me, but when he glanced at the staff, his gaze turned sharp as steel. Without a word, he lifted me into his arms.

“I think I appointed you all so she wouldn’t have to work,” he said sternly.

They lowered their eyes in silence.

He carried me back to the couch. My heart was pounding, afraid of his anger I hadn’t seen before. He sat in front of me, exhaled deeply, and asked, “Gaurii, why did you go into the kitchen?”

I lowered my head. “Because… the smell was so tempting. I couldn’t stop myself. And… I was hungry.”

Tears pricked my eyes before I couldn’t stop them.

“They were cooking for you, Gaurii,” he said softly, tilting my chin up. Seeing my moist eyes, his expression changed instantly. He pulled me into a hug, murmuring, “Sorry, Gaurii. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just worry… if you strain your injury, you won’t heal quickly.”

I nodded against his chest, still feeling foolish for crying, yet safe in his arms. He wiped my tears gently and made me look into his eyes, where only concern lingered.

ABHIMAAN’S POV

When I saw her crying, it felt as if my heart stopped beating for a second. The sight tore me apart. All I ever want is to protect her from every single pain in this world, and yet… here I was, the reason behind her tears. I pulled her closer to me instinctively, wiping away the drops that stained her cheeks. In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to kiss those moist eyes, to erase every sorrow with my lips. But I couldn’t. I had to hold myself back, had to maintain the distance—the demeanour I’ve built around myself.

She whispered softly, “Sorry… I cried like this.”

I smiled faintly and shook my head. “It’s okay. It’s not a big deal.”

Her lips curved into a gentle smile, and my chest warmed.

The chef soon arrived with the food. Normally, I wouldn’t tolerate anyone serving me anywhere other than the dining table. But here I was—sitting on a couch, accepting it without a thought, simply because she was beside me.

As the plates were placed, I hesitated. On one side was bread, on the other was a curry glistening with oil and spice. Before I could decide, she looked at me and urged, “Eat.”

I hesitated, then said, “You eat first. You’re the one who’s hungry.”

She smiled, licked her lips slightly, and began preparing her plate. She sprinkled crispy namkeen into the curry, added onions, squeezed fresh lemon over it, and mixed everything before making a bite. I followed her movements carefully, copying each step like a student. When she finally took a bite, her entire face softened into bliss. I could see her soul glowing just from the taste.

I thought, It must be that good.

So I took a bite the same way.

The next second, my eyes flew open like doors being slammed wide. It was—burning. The spice exploded on my tongue, igniting a fire that shot straight to my throat.

“Water!” I gasped, coughing.

Her eyes widened, and she immediately set down her food. With quick hands, she wiped her fingers on a tissue and patted my back gently. When the staff brought water, she held the glass for me, bringing it to my lips.

“Easy,” she murmured, guiding me, her eyes filled with concern.

I drank, breathing heavily, and when I looked at her, she was still watching me like I was the only thing that mattered.

“How,” I managed between breaths, “can you eat something this spicy…?”

She giggled lightly, that sound like a melody. “It’s tasty, Abhimaan.”

I shook my head in disbelief, still catching my breath.

Her face softened again. “Sorry… I thought you’d be able to handle the spice. I won’t ask them to make it like this again. You should eat something different.”

I nodded, my gaze lingering on her. She loved this food—her whole face showed it—and yet she was ready to let it go for my sake.

Turning to the chef, I said, “Make a strong black coffee. And maybe a sandwich. Nothing spicy. It should be healthy.”

The chef nodded and left, while she continued eating her misal pav with absolute bliss lighting up her features.

And me? I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

Was this really love?

Maybe.

I didn’t know.

By the time my food arrived, she was already done with hers and sat quietly beside me. I took a bite of the sandwich. It wasn’t the best I’d ever eaten, but it wasn’t the worst either. Simple, plain… tolerable.

I glanced at her and offered a piece. She looked at me with that thoughtful expression, as if debating whether to accept or not. Finally, she leaned forward.

“Eat it,” I urged.

She took a tiny bite, nibbling at the bread like a child. A smile tugged at my lips as she chewed carefully.

“It’s not that bad,” she admitted, wrinkling her nose. “But it’s too bland… kuch bhi nahi hai isme. Na namak, na mirch.”

( there is no flavour in this neither spicy nor salty )

Her honesty made me laugh. “Yeah… I like this type only.”

She tilted her head curiously. “But there should be something, you know? We shouldn’t eat bland food. You know, even if by mistake I used to cook food with less spices, then my husband used to…”

Her voice broke off. Instantly, her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. She forced a smile, but the silence that followed was heavy.

I wanted to reach out, to hold her hand, to say something that could erase the pain in her words. Instead, I said softly, “You know… friends can share.”

She nodded faintly, trying to hide behind a smile.

And then—the bell rang.

Why does she always come at the wrong time?

The designer entered, breaking the fragile moment. Gaurii quickly wiped her eyes and put on a smile so perfect it almost fooled me. Almost. To the world it looked real, but I knew it wasn’t.

“Mr. Greyson,” the designer greeted, “I’ve brought everything a woman may need. Where should I set up?”

I glanced at Gaurii. “You sit here,” I told her gently. “I’ll take care of it.”

I led the designer to my room—the room she was currently staying in. Opening my closet, I realized almost eighty percent of it was filled with my things. For the first time, I started moving them aside, rearranging the space to make room for her.

If someone had told me three days ago that I’d be adjusting my closet, making space in my life, eating fiery food, and changing routines for a woman… I would’ve looked at them with boredom. But here I was—changing. For her.

The designer finished arranging and said, “I’ve set up the essentials. From toiletries to wardrobe, makeup to footwear—everything a woman would require.”

I gave her a small nod. She and her staff began leaving.

When I walked back out, I saw Gaurii sitting, clearly bored. As the designer passed her, she smiled and said politely, “Bye, Mrs. Greyson.”

Gaurii’s eyes widened. She stammered quickly, “G-Gaurii… I’m Gaurii.”

The designer chuckled, correcting herself. “Ah, sorry. Mrs. Gaurii Greyson.” and she left

I bit back a laugh. Inside, I was smiling, giggling even. I had never thought my surname would sound this good on anyone else. But on her? On her it fit perfectly.

She looked so flustered, so shy, while I couldn’t stop thinking—Mrs. Greyson.

And for the first time, I wanted it to be real.

I went near her and sat down. She looked at me curiously while I started eating the sandwich. Without looking at her, I said softly, “Ask.”

She blinked, flustered. “Ask… what? I wasn’t thinking to ask you anything… Why would I? Is it because your surname is Greyson…? Obvious, right? Or maybe not…” She babbled, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

Leaning slowly toward her, I lowered my voice to an almost intimate whisper. “You know… you already asked it. Yes, my surname is Greyson. Do you have a problem with it?”

Her eyes twinkled. “So… so when people… call me Mrs. Greyson, why don’t you object?”

I smiled faintly and returned to my sandwich. She frowned, confused. “Tell me… why don’t you?”

I took a deep breath and moved towards her again . “Gaurii… tell me. If you see a man and a woman in the same house, who could they be?”

She tilted her head. “They… they could be brother and sister… mom and son… cousins… dad and daughter… anything. It doesn’t have to be husband and wife.”

I chuckled, my eyes softening. “True… but I never said that you and I are husband and wife.”

Her face fell into a pout as I stood and walked toward the kitchen. From behind me, she called, “You… you… confused me!”

I laughed quietly, shaking my head.

Later, I showed her the closet I had rearranged for her. She said she wanted to rest, so I let her, returning to my office work. I worked in my study only.

Night came, and it was time for dinner. I asked the cook to make something healthy and mild since she had been sleeping. The food was ready and it was late so the butler and all the staff had gone , and I went to wake her.

Her cheeks had faint tear stains. I didn’t understand why she cried every night before sleeping, but I couldn’t let her go hungry. “Gaurii… wake up. You should eat something before sleeping.”

She stirred slightly but didn’t wake fully, so I scooped her into my arms. For the first time, she snuggled into my neck and chest and she wrapped her hands around my neck , falling asleep in ease. I carried her to the living room couch and gently sat myself. I tried to set her down but she wasn't willing to move . She stayed close, neither moving nor pulling away from me.

I slowly patted her head, brushing my hand through her hair. “Gaurii… eat something, please… then sleep.”

Inside, I was fighting the urge to call her baby… bacha… my cute little baby. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. I restrained myself.

She stirred again, opening her eyes briefly. Looking at me, she murmured softly, “Maan.”

My chest felt like it could burst. She’d called me by a nickname—just like that, quietly, in trust, in comfort. If she hadn’t been sleeping in my lap, I might have shouted, or danced, or done anything to express my happiness. But here she was… my little chutku sa baby, sleeping in my lap.

She stirred again, her focus sharpening. “What are you doing…?”

.・゜゜・

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Hello Everyone !!!!

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CHRONIC

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