“Your husband doesn't just know how to fly fighter jets... he certainly knows how to get under someone's skin.”
I glanced at Abhiraj, surprised by his bluntness. Across the table, Saurav’s eyes were locked on us. I could feel the heat of his gaze, but I forced myself to maintain a professional mask.
“He’s just protective of the business,” I said softly. I tried to defend my husband, even though I knew his questions were designed to provoke.
Abhiraj chuckled. “Protective? Or just incredibly stubborn? I’ve dealt with fighter pilots before, Kavya. They think they own the sky. It takes a lot to ground them.”
He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a playful conspiratorial tone. “Did you know I once tried to fly a drone for a project like this and crashed it straight into the village head’s cowshed? The cow wasn’t impressed and neither was my ego.”
The image of the sophisticated Abhiraj Sisodiya being chased by a cow over a downed drone caught me off guard. I covered my mouth to stifle a giggle, but my shoulders shook anyway.
“You’re joking,” I whispered, smiling.
“I wish I were. I had to buy that cow a very expensive set of bells to make peace,” he replied with a wink.
I laughed again, feeling the knots in my chest loosen for the first time all morning. But the light moment was cut short by the harsh scrape of a chair against the floor.
Saurav was standing, his face a mask of cold fury. His hands were clenched at his sides, and the look he leveled at Abhiraj could have pierced steel.
“If we’re done with the storytelling, perhaps we can return to the actual figures?” Saurav’s voice was ice-cold.
The room went silent. Mr. Chauhan looked between his son and Abhiraj with a frown, sensing the shift in energy. A sudden chill settled over me. This wasn’t just business anymore. Saurav looked... jealous.
Was he? Just yesterday he had denied it. Perhaps this was about the family reputation.
I lowered my gaze to my notepad, my heart racing. I knew that look on Saurav’s face. He was a man who hated losing control, and right now, he felt like he was losing ground to the man sitting next to me.
The meeting ended abruptly. The tension was so thick that even Mr. Chauhan didn’t try to linger. We gathered our things in a heavy silence. As we walked toward the elevators, Abhiraj caught my eye one last time, giving me a small, knowing smile. My stomach flipped partly from nerves, and partly because I knew Saurav was watching.
“I’ll see you at the site visit, Kavya,” Abhiraj said clearly, ignoring Saurav entirely.
I nodded quickly and hurried toward the parking lot. I expected to head toward my father-in-law’s car, but Saurav grabbed my wrist.
“You’re coming with me,” he said. His voice wasn’t loud, but it had a military edge that left no room for argument. Mr. Chauhan looked at us, sighed, and signaled his driver to pull away.
I sat in the passenger seat of Saurav’s car, the leather cold against my skin. He slammed his door and fired the engine; the roar of the powerful motor echoed through the garage. He didn’t pull out immediately. Instead, he gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white.
“What was so funny?” he asked, staring straight through the windshield.
“It was just a story, Saurav. About a drone,” I said, my voice small. I hated how my pulse quickened, just as it had that morning behind the bedroom door.
“A drone. Right.” He turned his head slowly. His eyes were dark, filled with anger and simmering resentment. “You were laughing with him. In the middle of a professional meeting. While I’m trying to protect our interests, you’re busy being charmed by Sisodiya’s ‘village stories.’”
“He was being light-hearted. You were being unnecessarily hard on him,” I countered, finding a spark of courage. “The project is good for the women in that village. Why can’t you see that instead of attacking him?”
Saurav let out a sharp, mocking laugh. “You think this is about the project, Kavya? He’s playing us all with that charming smile and those manipulative words.”
“That’s not true!” I snapped. “Not everything is a battle, Saurav. Not everyone is an enemy.”
“In my world, they are,” he growled. He shifted into gear and floored it, the tires screeching against the concrete.
I stared out the window as the city blurred past. I wanted to tell him I knew why he was so angry. I wanted to ask him about his mother, the woman he was so desperate to find that he’d scream at his own father. I wanted to tell him I felt his pain, but the wall he’d built today was too high to climb.
He was jealous, yes. But as I watched his jaw tighten, I realized it wasn’t just about Abhiraj. It was about power. He was losing control of his past.
We didn’t speak for the rest of the drive. The silence was louder than any shout.
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