Soft Pillows | ✓

Chapter 12

He reached over to switch off the lamp beside his bed, and that's when his eyes fell upon the cuts he'd created. The blood had already dried but the wounds hadn't healed. His eyes landed on the blue sheet which was stained too. He sucked in a sharp breath and scrambled to his feet. Quickly pulling off his bedsheet, he went straight to the bathroom and dumped it inside the washing machine. After that, he took out the first-aid kit from the cabinet and cleaned up his wounds, bandaging them carefully.

He didn't know whether to relax or slap himself for what he did. It had taken him years to learn to control himself from self-harming, and here he was, doing the same thing. If Dr. Gupta knew, he would be shocked out of his wits. How could he possibly tell the doctor he was fine one day, and he cut himself the next day? Heck, what will his wife think? And that made him pause. What if she'd heard him? Had she come into his room after he had passed out? He shook his head at his absurd thought. The door was locked, and he'd made sure to be quiet through the pain.

He decided to take a quick shower, trying his best to keep the bandages dry in the process. He changed into his usual office clothes and ran a hand through his wet hair before slipping into his shoes and heading to the kitchen.

He had been so cooped up in his thoughts, he had totally forgotten to see the time. But after finding Aahana in the kitchen, he knew he had gotten ready for nothing.

Suddenly he stilled, his mind going haywire as he recalled what had happened yesterday.

He knew why Urvashi had taken him to her room, and how he ended up in that condition, but Aahana didn't, yet she hadn't asked him a single question. Instead, she had stayed beside him throughout the party, playing the role of a caring and loving wife. And the way she'd held his hand, he couldn't make out anything of it. After all, he was always so cold to her, and she was gentle and pleasant to him.

"Here." Aahana placed a plate full of scrambled eggs on toast, with a cup of coffee on the dining table and gestured for him to sit.

He gave a slight nod and took his seat, eating silently as his mind pondered over Aahana again and again. He watched her move around the kitchen with natural grace, a soft hum escaping her lips which sounded angelic to his ears. She grabbed her own plate and sat down opposite him. Her fingers moved to tuck a loose strand of her hair behind her ear as she eyed her food with a deep scowl. She bit her bottom lip and picked her knife and fork to slice her toast before tentatively taking a bite.

She swallowed it and scrunched up her nose in a strangely adorable manner.

Atharva hid a smile.

And he didn't know when, but he was already questioning her out loud. "You don't like it?"

She froze mid-bite and looked up at him, confusion and shock clear on her face. "Huh?"

"You don't like what you are eating," Atharva said slowly, glancing at her plate and back at her.

She flushed. "Uh, no. It's just...I-I like to eat heavy breakfast. You know aloo paratha, poha—" His eyebrows shot up, a look of incredulity crossing his features. She abruptly shut up, picked her half-eaten plate, and almost ran into the kitchen. Atharva took the time to look at her and frowned. She didn't have an ounce of fat on her, in fact, she was absolutely fit. He remembered the navy blue dress she wore, and how it flaunted her enviable curves perfectly.

"I work out!" Aahana blurted, her cheeks redder than a tomato if that was possible when she found Atharva checking her out.

"Oh," Atharva said as heat crept his neck. He coughed awkwardly and looked down at his plate.

Had he really thought that?

For years, all he did was hate women. They were like a jigsaw puzzle— impossible to solve, and no matter how hard you tried, you could never understand them and their constant mood swings. They said something but did something else.

As if that wasn't enough, they were dangerous and manipulative, a lethal combination. The real cause of chaos in the world. Never put your trust in them, or you will be scarred for life.

And love? Gah, don't even get started on that word. Love was for fools. It only brought heartache and suffering. No person in their right mind would want to fall in love and go through all those fucked up feelings. In fact, he didn't believe in love, love wasn't real.

He shook his head and sipped his coffee. Why was he thinking all that anyway?

No more words were exchanged as Atharva finished his breakfast and left for the office whilst Aahana washed their plates and placed them inside the cabinet.

A small smile played on her lips as she made her way to her room. She still couldn't believe that he spoke to her willingly. Her inner high school girly self wanted to squeal in happiness but she refrained herself from looking mentally challenged.

Right at that moment, she had wanted to ask him everything, but the chances of him telling her his secrets were nil. So deciding to take baby steps, she let it slide.

She glanced at the clock hanging on her blue wall and gasped in panic. Hurriedly she threw on a knee-length dark dress and tied her hair in a high ponytail, few free strands framing her face.

Damn, I am going to be late today, she thought as she stuffed all the important files she'd brought from work inside her bag and drove to the office.

What do you think is wrong with Atharva? Any guesses? No? Keep reading further to know more! And don't forget to vote and comment. ❤