❣️Chapter 1 – A Love So Still❣️
1305 Words
The dawn was soft over the Rathore estate.
Delicate threads of sunlight filtered through sheer ivory curtains, painting golden patterns on the silk bedding. The mansion, always standing proud and tall, hushed at this hour. A stillness hung in the air—not the silence of emptiness, but the comfort of a world momentarily at peace.
In the heart of that calm, wrapped in a cocoon of warmth and comfort, Ira stirred.
A gentle rustle of sheets. A small sigh. She turned on her side, her cheek brushing the cool pillow before a familiar warmth wrapped around her waist from behind. Strong arms, a little rough with callouses from habitually holding pens like weapons, pulled her closer.
Aarav.
Her husband.
The world knew him as Aarav Singh Rathore—shrewd, immovable, cold. The man who built empires with a single command and broke competitors with a gaze. But this… this version of him? The one whose breath tickled the curve of her shoulder, whose hand now rested just under her ribcage, feeling her heartbeat?
This was the Aarav no one else knew.
"You're awake," he whispered, his voice roughened by sleep.
"Only because you keep pulling me closer," she murmured, a lazy smile tugging at her lips.
He didn't respond. Instead, he pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck, his lips soft and lingering. Then silence again. The kind of silence that exists only between two people who don’t need words to be heard.
---
They stayed in bed longer than they probably should have.
Their mornings often started like this. The rest of the world could wait. Meetings could be postponed. Memos could be ignored. For just this window of time, it was only Ira and Aarav. Their little bubble.
“I have that investor call at ten,” he murmured after a long pause, brushing his nose against her temple.
“Mm-hmm,” she replied, clearly not interested in business at the moment.
Aarav leaned over her, resting his weight on one elbow, his dark eyes studying her face. Her hair was messily sprawled across the pillow, her skin bare and glowing in the sunlight. She looked up at him, smiling.
“What?” she asked.
“Nothing,” he whispered. “Just… you.”
There were moments like this that made Ira question how such a man could exist. How someone so powerful, so feared, could simultaneously be so gentle, so attentive, so utterly hers.
The love in his eyes wasn’t fleeting. It was steady. Anchored. Like he had memorized every curve of her face and held it sacred.
---
Later, while Aarav showered and dressed, Ira walked barefoot across the marble floors, wearing one of his crisp white shirts. It was far too big for her, the sleeves almost comically long, but it made her feel held. Safe.
She wandered into the kitchen, where the staff greeted her with warm smiles. She waved them off, choosing to make Aarav’s coffee herself, as she always did. He pretended he couldn’t tell the difference between hers and the chef’s, but she knew better.
Back upstairs, she set the coffee on his desk just as he stepped out of the dressing room, already in a tailored navy suit. His tie hung loose, and his hair was damp.
“Your coffee,” she said, placing it beside his leather-bound planner.
He pulled her into him with one arm, his free hand grabbing the tie. “You’re too good to me.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
He chuckled, letting her knot his tie for him.
There was a quiet intimacy in it. The way she stood on her toes to reach his collar. The way his hands settled on her hips, grounding himself. The way she leaned in to kiss his chin once she was done.
Neither of them said it—but in moments like this, love was louder than words.
---
The rest of the day moved faster.
Aarav disappeared into calls and boardrooms. The estate buzzed with quiet activity. Ira spent the afternoon tending to the small rooftop garden she had insisted on maintaining herself. Between herbs and tiny flowering shrubs, she found solace.
Occasionally, she’d receive a message from Aarav—short, but always meaningful:
Don’t forget to eat.
Thinking of you.
I miss your voice.
Sometimes, just a heart emoji.
She smiled every time. He was a man of few public affections, but in private, he was a river of quiet love.
---
That evening, after dinner, Aarav took her to the balcony.
A breeze danced around them. Ira wore a shawl, and Aarav, seated on the swing bench beside her, pulled her feet up onto his lap. He began to gently rub them, his fingers pressing into her arches.
"You're spoiling me," she teased.
“I live to,” he replied, eyes fixed on her with that same quiet intensity.
They talked of small things. Childhood memories. Places they wanted to visit. She told him about a poem she’d read. He promised to take her to the library she mentioned.
But there was a pause—something hanging in the air.
“Aarav,” she said softly, her tone shifting.
He looked at her, the hand on her foot stilling.
“Do you ever feel… scared?”
“Scared?” he repeated.
She nodded. “Like something so perfect can’t last forever. That someone might try to steal it away from us?”
His jaw clenched slightly, a flicker of protectiveness flashing in his eyes. But he composed himself before speaking.
“I do,” he admitted, voice low. “Every day.”
She blinked.
“I built this empire,” he continued. “Not for power. Not for money. For control. So no one could hurt what I love. So I could keep you safe.”
Ira felt her chest tighten.
“But love isn't something you can cage, Aarav.”
He cupped her cheek. “No, but I’ll still die trying to protect it.”
Their foreheads touched.
In that moment, the world could have ended around them, and neither would have noticed.
---
That night, Ira drifted to sleep curled beside him, their fingers intertwined. Aarav, still wide awake, watched her.
Her eyelashes fluttered softly. Her lips were slightly parted, breathing slow and steady. She looked so fragile, so unaware of how fiercely loved she was.
He kissed her knuckles and whispered, “I’ll always choose you, Ira.”
And he meant it.
---
But outside their safe little world, shadows began to creep.
A phone buzzed silently on Aarav’s side table.
A message.
From a name he hadn’t seen in a while.
Ria.
The first thread in a carefully spun web.
But tonight, in this room, nothing had changed yet.
The love was still whole.
Still unshaken.
Still so painfully still.
_ _ _ _ _ _
🌸🌸“To the world, I am a man of stone — unmoved, calculating, powerful. But with her… with Ira, I crumble into a thousand unspoken emotions. She’s the only truth in a life built on facades. Her laughter is the only sound that silences the chaos in my mind. Her touch is the only warmth I’ve ever known. I built empires with my hands, but with her, I learned to hold gently — to love quietly, fiercely, endlessly. She doesn’t just live in my heart. She is my heart. And if the world ever tried to take her from me, I would burn it all to keep her safe, even if it meant she’d hate me for it.” — Aarav Singh Ratho🌸🌸
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* * [End of Chapter 1 – A Love So Still] * *
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- Writer
