Zara was too emotional and pleaded with Ayaan to live his life — with or without her. Ayaan was stunned by her words. He swatted her hand away and stood before her, his chest heaving in anger.
“Are you mad? What are you even talking about? It has always been our dream to get married, to have babies. Don’t you dare talk about me loving someone else. There will only ever be one girl in my life, and that’s my Zara,” Ayaan said through gritted teeth.
Zara leaned forward and kissed his forehead.
“Ayaan, I just want you to be happy in your life, with or without me. I won’t be at peace knowing my Ayaan is suffering. I would rather see you living your life than feel guilty and selfish for ruining it with my love,” she said softly.
Ayaan groaned and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. He hated the way she was talking about a life without her. Before he could speak, Zara kissed him and Ayaan kissed her back, the kiss turning desperate and aggressive, pouring out all his anger and pain.
“Don’t be mad, Ayaan. Just… don’t forget these words. It felt like the right time to say this, but that doesn’t mean I’m leaving you. I love you so much, Ayaan,” Zara whispered.
Ayaan pulled her into a bone-crushing hug. “I love you, Zara,” he murmured against her hair.
“Have you ever regretted that we’ve never gone beyond kissing, making out, and cuddling?” Ayaan asked, his voice softer now.
Zara shook her head. “No. We decided together to wait until we’re married. We’ll wait however long it takes,” she said gently.
“Of course, babe. I want our first time to be special and it’ll be with my beautiful, sexy wife. Now stop talking nonsense and let me tell you everything.” Ayaan said, pressing a strong kiss on her cheek.
He pulled her onto the bed, and they cuddled close as he began to recount everything that had happened over the last 48 hours.
His eyes landed on Zara’s handbag on the tea table, and since the zip was open, he noticed a diary peeking out of it. He had often seen her writing in it, and Zara had always said they were confidential key notes on ongoing political developments, a way to keep track of everything happening around. He had also noticed how fascinated she had become with politics, especially in the way she interacted with his mother.
He smiled faintly, shook his head, and caressed her hair as they drifted into sleep.
In Ishaan and Pari’s room, Ishaan was busy going through all the reports from Zara and his PA. He had compiled a complete list of the senior candidates who were contesting for the position of party head.
He called his PA, and just then, Pari entered the room holding two cups of coffee.
“I’ve gone through the details. Get me all the sources of funding for those candidates,” Ishaan said before ending the call and turning his attention to his wife. He pecked her forehead and closed his laptop, pulling her to sit beside him.
“You seemed busy, so why did you close your laptop? Have this coffee and continue your work if it’s something urgent,” Pari said softly.
Ishaan smiled, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.
“No, baby. This is my wife’s time and her right. I can handle everything else in the morning,” he replied, and Pari smiled as they sipped their coffee together.
“Aww, my baby is such a romantic man,” Pari teased and playfully pinched his cheek.
Ishaan grabbed her hand and twisted his arm around her neck, pulling her against his chest.
“What were you saying back in the living room? Seems like you’ve got some problem with your eyes. Or should I prove to you that your husband is stronger than anyone else?” Ishaan asked, his tone half serious, half teasing.
Pari chuckled, seeing the flicker of jealousy in his eyes.
“Oh, are you jealous of my baby brother, Mr. Ishaan?” she teased again.
Ishaan playfully bit her cheek and rocked her body gently, smooching her neck.
“Why would I be jealous when I know my wife just loves to tease me?” Ishaan murmured against her skin.
“The truth is, you both are scary and look like beasts unleashed, but I’m not scared of either of you.” Pari said twisting his moustache.
Ishaan chuckled, carried her to the bed, and they lay cuddled together as he caressed her hair.
“The day after tomorrow, we’ll finally leave for our long-missed honeymoon. I’ll let you get enough rest until then. Relax, eat well, and take care of yourself because once we reach our destination, I won’t let you sleep for at least forty-eight hours.” he whispered.
Pari blushed deeply at his words and nodded shyly.
“Tomorrow, I’ll have to go to the office to finish some pending work before we leave. Are you happy, Pari?”
Pari moved above him, resting on his chest as Ishaan wrapped his arms around her.
“I’m not just happy, Ishaan… I’m content. It feels like I finally found the missing piece of myself. You are my home, Ishu. I love you, baby.”
Ishaan’s chest heaved as he took a deep breath hearing her confession, then kissed her crown gently.
The next morning, Ishaan arrived at Rey’s arcade and walked straight into the conference room. Reyansh, Mithun, and Ayaan were already waiting for him.
“Sorry I’m late, I had to wait until Pari finished her breakfast.” Ishaan said, taking a seat.
Mithun immediately shot a glare at Reyansh and then at Ishaan.
“Don’t worry, Ishu, I’m used to this. Earlier, it used to be your father. Now it’s you. Anyway, let’s start before your wife calls you for lunch.” Mithun said dryly.
Reyansh glared at him, and Mithun smirked.
“Today, we have three discussions. First, Meghna’s parents are still alive, and they might start looking for their daughter and then there’s Varun’s family. We can’t leave things unfinished. It would be suspicious to let two businesses sit without anyone to run them. So, how about we give Meghna’s father control of both businesses, and appoint our own people at the management level to keep him under our supervision?”
The men exchanged glances, and Ishaan gave a thumbs-up, agreeing with the plan.
Ishaan then looked at Ayaan for a brief second before turning to Reyansh.
“Second discussion is about the girl Ayaan saved that night. It’s like she vanished into thin air. There’s no information about her yet, but we can’t take any risks. So, I’ve informed our CSO to replace the security team and the front desk at the hospital with our own people for a while just to monitor for any possible threats.”
Ayaan’s jaw tightened, anger flashing in his eyes as memories of the night he lost the pendant resurfaced.
“Third is about the opposition party. We took a risk once, and we don’t want another rising out of nowhere in the next ten or twenty years. So, how about we take control of the party ourselves?”
Ayaan gasped, clutching his chest in disbelief, while Reyansh and Mithun chuckled, clearly expecting such a bold idea from Ishaan.
“Bro, are you crazy? Our mom is the most popular minister in the ruling party, and you’re talking about taking over the opposition?” Ayaan asked, rising from his seat in shock.
“We won’t be directly involved, Ayaan. We’ll choose a candidate and sponsor him, pour in so much funding that no one can challenge him. We’ll appoint a committee to draft policies and strategies so no one suspects our influence. We’ll buy loyalty from the key members and keep the opposition permanently under our control. Anytime in the future, if a problem arises, we’ll have leverage. Like Appa used to say — nothing should be left to chance, and we must think at least twenty-five years ahead.” Ishaan explained calmly
Reyansh and Mithun exchanged a look of admiration, proud of how Ishaan was already planning for the next generation. Ayaan stood stunned, then pulled Ishaan into a hug.
“What about the interview? Are you planning to do one with Pari?” Mithun asked, standing up from his chair.
“No, Mamu, we’re not interested in that. Tomorrow, we’ll be flying to the island. Once we’re back, I’ll talk to Pari about her career. If she wants to work, I’d love for her to be part of my business or whatever she wishes to pursue.” Ishaan replied, glancing at his wristwatch.
“And that’s our cue, you’re ready to run back to your wife,” Mithun teased, and Ishaan smiled, closing his laptop.
He bid them goodbye and walked out of the conference room, his PA following closely behind, carrying his things. Just then, Ishaan’s phone pinged with a notification, a message from Pari saying she had reached their penthouse to pack for their honeymoon.
His PA opened the car door, and Ishaan got in, with the PA taking the passenger seat. During the drive, Ishaan gave detailed instructions about the tasks to be handled in his absence.
When he reached the penthouse, he headed straight to the bedroom. Pari was in the walk-in closet, carefully picking out outfits to pack. Ishaan walked up behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist, and pressed a soft kiss on her cheek.
“Missed you, baby,” he mumbled against her skin, and Pari smiled, ruffling his hair before continuing with her work.
Ishaan changed into a pair of shorts and a polo T-shirt, then joined her in packing.
“I think we don’t need too many outfits. We’re flying for our honeymoon, so I don’t think we’ll really need clothes.” Ishaan said teasingly.
Pari immediately pinched his arm.
“It’s not like we’ll be locked in the room all the time, Ishu. We’ll go out too so yes, we do need some outfits,” she replied, trying not to blush.
Ishaan chuckled, then gently pulled her toward the couch and trapped her between his arms, his hands resting on either side of her. He leaned closer, kissing her eyes, her nose, and the corner of her lips.
“I don’t know what people assume a honeymoon to be, but I want to redefine it — to show you the difference between a honeymoon and a vacation. When we fly to a destination to relax, go sightseeing, shop, and have fun with a little romance — that’s a vacation. But a honeymoon…” he brushed his lips lightly against hers, “…is about us. just the two of us spending time together, personally, romantically, and soulfully. That’s why we’re flying to our island. The next time we travel, that’ll be a vacation.” he whispered, his voice low and husky.
Pari’s breath hitched as his words sank in, and before she could respond, Ishaan captured her lips in a gentle, lingering kiss.
When he finally pulled back, he smiled and whispered, “I have something to show you.”
Ishaan moved back, and Pari watched him curiously. He opened his wardrobe, pulled out a box, and placed it before her.
“Open it. This is a little surprise I’ve been saving for you all these years,” Ishaan said with a smile.
Pari opened the box and gasped softly. The first thing she pulled out was her favorite doll, the one she used to carry everywhere until she started school. Beneath it were her old coloring books, filled with faded colors and messy strokes, the same ones she used to paint with Ayaan.
Ishaan picked up a tiny frock from the box and held it delicately.
“One day, I saw Amma going into a room, and I followed her. I was so shocked to see that she had kept all your things safe. This frock caught my attention… so I stole it.” He chuckled softly and continued, “I even have a photo of you wearing this frock. We’ll make our daughter wear it one day and I want a huge photo of both of you together.” he said, his tone turning nostalgic.
He touched the frock with a tenderness that melted Pari’s heart. She couldn’t take her eyes off him, the way he smiled, the way he spoke, the love in every word.
Ishaan then pulled out an album from the drawer of his wardrobe and handed it to her.
“Here, take a look at this, my Queen. I’m sure you’ll love it.”
Pari opened the album and immediately burst into laughter. It was a collection of her childhood drawings — a chaotic yet adorable mix of colors, lines, and stick figures. The cover page was a drawing of her whole family, all with grass heads and crooked smiles.
She laughed uncontrollably while Ishaan tried to snatch the album from her.
“Don’t you dare laugh, Mrs. Ishaan. These are masterpieces, my little Pari took so much time for these. But there’s one special drawing you need to see.” Ishaan said.
Pari tilted her head in curiosity as Ishaan flipped through the pages. He stopped at a particular one — a drawing of a boy with donkey ears, big round eyes, two horns, and a tail. Beside it, in bold, crooked letters, was written ‘Ishaan’ and even the letters had little horns and tails.
Pari slipped off the couch, laughing so hard that she clutched her stomach. Ishaan pulled her ear playfully, and she hissed, pushing him away.
“You drew this the day I told Mamu not to let you use social media before you turned eighteen. You were so angry that you sat there and drew this.” Ishaan said, chuckling.
Pari climbed back onto his lap and kissed his cheek softly.
“My cute devil,” she whispered, smiling.
Ishaan grinned and flipped through the rest of the pages, and the two of them laughed together, reliving every precious memory.
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A/N:
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