The Stranger's Wife

Chapter-11

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Life at the Black Mansion had settled into a strange routine—Aaira working tirelessly under Arthur’s ever-watchful gaze. Despite his occasional arrogance, she had started to understand him better, though he remained an enigma. Their interactions were filled with unspoken tension, silent battles of wills, and moments where she found herself catching glimpses of a man beyond his cold exterior.

Then, just as the monotony threatened to set in, Aarsh returned home from his boarding school for the holidays, bringing a wave of excitement with him. His face lit up as he saw his mother, wrapping her in a tight hug.

Aarsh’s eyes sparkled with excitement as he clutched the acceptance letter from Lavenham University. It was his dream school, and he had earned a scholarship. His hard work had finally paid off.

Aaira’s heart swelled with pride, tears brimming in her eyes as she pulled her son into a tight embrace. “I’m so proud of you, Aarsh,” she whispered, holding him close. “You deserve this.”

“Thanks, Mom,” he grinned. Then his expression turned mischievous. “You know what this means, right?”

She raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“I want a party, Mom,” he declared. “One last birthday party before I leave school.”

“My 18th birthday is just around the corner! We need to celebrate.”

Aaira chuckled at his enthusiasm. “Of course. Anything for you.”

Aarsh hesitated for a moment, rubbing the back of his head. “Mom… I also want Arthur to come.”

Aaira blinked, taken aback. “Arthur? Why?”

Aarsh shrugged. “He’s important to you.” His words were simple, but they hit Aaira harder than she expected. “And he’s… intriguing.”

She wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Arthur was her employer, her tormentor at times, and… something else she couldn’t quite name. But before she could find the right words, Aarsh added, “I just don’t want my friends to recognize him. Can he, you know, disguise himself?”

When Aaira relayed the request to Arthur, he smirked, arms crossed. “You want me to sneak into a school party in disguise?”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s just so Aarsh doesn’t get unnecessary attention.”

Arthur tilted his head, pretending to consider it. “Fine." I’ll blend in. Just don’t expect me to dance.”

Aaira huffed. This man and his conditions.

As Aarsh’s birthday neared, the house buzzed with preparations. Aaira busied herself with decorations, coordinating with caterers, and ensuring everything was perfect for her son’s big day. The guest list had been carefully curated—Aarsh wanted only his closest friends, keeping it intimate yet memorable.

Arthur, however, remained his usual infuriating self. He gave his opinion on the menu, critiqued the decorations, and even went as far as selecting Aarsh’s birthday outfit.

“You do realize this is my son’s party, not yours?” Aaira snapped at him one evening when he suggested changing the seating arrangement.

Arthur merely smirked. “You asked for my help.”

“I did not.”

“Too late. I’m involved now.”

She groaned, rubbing her temples. Dealing with him was exhausting.

On the night before the party, Aaira found herself standing outside Arthur’s study, knocking hesitantly. He had been acting distant since she scolded him—more than usual—since Aarsh’s invitation.

“Come in,” his voice called.

She stepped inside, finding him seated on the couch, sipping whiskey, deep in thought. “Are you okay?” she asked.

Arthur looked up, his expression unreadable. “Tomorrow will be interesting.”

She sat across from him, studying him closely. “Are you nervous?”

He scoffed. “Hardly. Just… it’s been a long time since I attended anything that wasn’t strictly business.”

Aaira softened. “You don’t have to come if you’re uncomfortable.”

“I said I’d be there. I’ll be there.” His tone was firm, leaving no room for argument.

Something about his seriousness made her chest tighten. Before she could overthink it, she nodded and stood. “Goodnight, Arthur.”

His gaze lingered on her. “Goodnight, Aaira.”

The next evening, the party was in full swing. The backyard was transformed with fairy lights, a dance floor, and a buffet filled with Aarsh’s favorite dishes. His friends arrived, laughing and chattering excitedly.

Then, Arthur arrived.

Aaira barely recognized him. Dressed casually in jeans, a hoodie, mustache and glasses, he looked nothing like the intimidating actor or businessman she worked for.

“You look… different,” she admitted.

He smirked. “Mission accomplished.”

Aarsh, unaware of Arthur’s usual sophisticated demeanor, welcomed him eagerly. The party was in full swing, and everything was perfect. That was, until one of Aarsh’s mischievous friends smuggled in a bottle of alcohol, planning to spike a drink and make Aarsh unknowingly taste it for the first time.

Neil had smuggled in a small bottle of liquor, hiding it beneath his jacket. He nudged his equally reckless companion, Jay.

"Come on, just a little. "No one will notice," Neil whispered, unscrewing the cap of the hidden bottle.

Jay hesitated before nodding. "Fine, but don’t let Aarsh see. His mom is here. She’ll flip."

The boys glanced around, making sure no one was watching. They grabbed one of the soft drink cups from the refreshments table and poured a generous amount of alcohol inside. Neil stirred it quickly, laughing under his breath.

"Let’s see how long it takes before he realizes."

They intended for Aarsh to drink it as a prank, but just as Neil was about to hand him the cup, Aarsh got distracted by another friend calling him over.

“Hold on,” Aarsh said, turning away to talk to someone else.

Before Neil could think of another plan, Aaira walked past, holding an empty tray after collecting used plates from a nearby table.

“Oh, Auntie, here!” Jay said quickly, acting as if he was offering her a normal drink. “You’ve been running around all evening." Have something.”

Aaira blinked, slightly taken aback by the sudden kindness. “Oh, that’s sweet of you.”

Without a second thought, she took the cup from Jay and sipped. The boys exchanged wide-eyed glances, realizing their mistake too late.

Aaira frowned as the unfamiliar taste hit her tongue. It was oddly sweet but burned slightly at the back of her throat. “It tastes strange. "What is it?” she asked, inspecting the cup.

Neil panicked. “Uh—it’s just a different brand of soda! Imported stuff!”

Arthur, standing nearby, watched the interaction with narrowed eyes, but before he could intervene, Aaira had already taken another sip.

The effects didn’t kick in immediately. At first, she simply felt a little warm, her head slightly light. But within minutes, her vision blurred at the edges, and she felt unsteady on her feet. Her thoughts became a little too relaxed, her usual sharpness dulling.

Arthur noticed the subtle change in her demeanor. The way she swayed slightly, her normally strict and poised self looking uncharacteristically… off.

His eyes darkened.

Something wasn’t right.

Then, he saw Neil and Jay trying to slip away from the crowd, looking guilty as sin. It didn’t take much for Arthur to put the pieces together.

Furious, he strode toward them. “You two.”

Neil and Jay froze like deer caught in headlights.

Arthur’s voice was low and dangerous. “What the hell did you put in that drink?”

Jay stammered. “It—it was meant for Aarsh—”

Arthur didn’t let him finish. His glare was sharp enough to cut glass. “Get out.”

Without waiting for another word, he turned to the rest of the party guests and clapped his hands loudly, commanding attention.

“Party’s over. Everyone, go home.” His tone brooked no argument.

Aarsh looked confused. “What? Why?”

Arthur ignored him and made sure Neil and Jay were among the first to leave. Meanwhile, Aaira, oblivious to the chaos, had wandered toward the pool, her emotions suddenly overwhelming her in a way she didn’t understand.

He found her by the pool, sitting at the edge, her toes dipping into the water, silent tears streaming down her face.

Arthur’s chest tightened. He had never seen her cry before.

She was always strong—always holding herself together, no matter what challenges life threw at her. Yet here she was, completely unraveling.

He crouched beside her. “Aaira,” he said gently. “What’s wrong?”

She didn’t respond at first, just staring into the water as if searching for answers beneath its surface.

Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, she murmured, “I don’t belong here.”

Arthur’s brows furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

“This… life. "This house. "This job. "Everything.” Her voice trembled. “I feel like I’m just… existing. Not living. Do you know what that feels like?”

His heart clenched. Yes, he wanted to say. I do. But he remained silent, letting her continue.

“I don’t even know who I am anymore,” she confessed. “I was a wife, then I wasn’t. I was a mother, but soon Aarsh will leave. And then what? What am I?”

Arthur swallowed hard. He had never seen her this vulnerable.

“You’re Aaira Han,” he said firmly. You’re more than someone’s wife or someone’s mother. You’re you.”

Aaira let out a broken laugh. “You say that like it means something.”

“It does.” His voice was softer now, almost gentle. “You matter.”

Aaira turned to look at him then, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Then why does it feel like I don’t?”

Arthur clenched his jaw. Who had made her feel this way? Who had broken her so badly?

Without thinking, he reached out, cupping her face. “You’re not alone, Aaira.”

Something in her expression shifted, her breath hitching slightly at the unexpected tenderness in his voice.

Then, as if realizing how close they were, she suddenly pulled away, laughing weakly.

Arthur forced himself to smirk, though his mind was still reeling. “You’re a terrible drunk,” he murmured to himself.

She pouted.

She sighed, resting her head against her knees. “Arthur?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you… for being here.”

Something tightened in his chest at her words, but he pushed it aside.

“Anytime,” he muttered. “Now let’s get you inside before you catch a cold.”

As he helped her up, their hands brushed. Neither of them pulled away immediately.

For the first time, the walls between them cracked—just a little.

To Be Continued…