Chapter 27
KAVYA
Saurav shared my bed again that night, but we hadn't spoken since the ride home. The silence was becoming so suffocating I wanted to bolt from the villa. If Saurav Chauhan wanted to torture me, he didn't need to shout; he only had to stay quiet.
Morning arrived the moment I finally closed my eyes. Sunlight filtered through the curtains, but it did nothing to warm the cold space between us. I reached out, only to find his side of the bed empty. God knew how early he'd woken up to bury his frustration in a workout.
I showered quickly and headed downstairs in the kitchen, my movements mechanical as I stirred my tea. My thoughts were stuck in a loop, replaying the events of yesterday: his mother, Abhiraj, and the sharp edge of Saurav's jealousy. I wished I understood my husband well enough to ease his pain, but every time I thought I was getting close, he proved me wrong.
"Good morning, sweetheart." Mr. Chauhan walked into the kitchen with a wide, warm smile. For a heartbeat, my problems felt a little lighter.
"Good morning, Dad." I smiled back, sliding a black coffee toward him as he sat at the kitchen island.
A moment later, footsteps approached. Saurav appeared, freshly showered and looking effortlessly handsome in a navy blue t-shirt and jeans. He sat next to his father, his expression ascomposed as ever. The air in the room instantly thickened. I hated these "family" moments. I wondered what made Saurav loathe his father so much. I wondered why Mr. Chauhan's wife had really left, and why he refused to tell his son where she was. I could only wonder.
"Tea," I said, placing a cup in front of him without meeting his eyes.
He gave a stiff nod. "Thanks." His tone was flat, drained of any emotion.
"I might be out this evening. Rehearsals for my Kathak are starting," I said, glancing between the two men.
"That's wonderful news! I'm so glad you're returning to the stage," my father-in-law said, his enthusiasm genuine.
I didn't get a single word from my husband. He just sipped his tea, his eyes glued to his phone.
My fingers tightened around the edge of the counter. I turned to face him fully. "Would you mind putting the phone away while we're having breakfast?"
Saurav looked up, caught off guard-not by anger, but by the sudden sharpness in my voice. "Yes, of course." He set the phone on the counter and reached for a cookie. He took a sip of tea, then set the cup down with a slow, deliberate click.
"I'm being posted for a high-risk assignment," he announced.
My heart skipped. I snapped my gaze to his. "High-risk?"
He nodded, his eyes fixed on the distant horizon outside the window. "It's a specialized strike over the border. Low-altitude, night-entry. The radar environment is 'red.' They'll be looking for us the second we cross the line."
"And you're the lead pilot," Mr. Chauhan said, his voice turning cold. He clearly didn't approve.
"I have to be," Saurav said firmly. "My squadron needs someone with experience. I'm not just going for the mission; I'm going to make sure the younger guys get back, too."
I froze. This was new. He had shared details about the base before, but never anything about this level of risk. He usually told me the good things; he never spoke of borders, combat, or the reality of what they faced.
"But you said you were going to a military exercise in Spain," I whispered. "Not this..."
"I just got the confirmation," Saurav said, his gaze shifting between me and his father.
"For how long?"
"A few months," he replied. He looked away quickly, as if to preempt any more questions.
Silence fell over the kitchen again. I looked down at my tea; it had grown cold, a thin film gathering on the surface. My appetite vanished instantly. I picked up my cup to take it to the sink, but Saurav's voice stopped me.
"I've applied for leave before I go."
I paused, turning back to him with a frown. "You're already on leave, Saurav."
Saurav glanced at his father before answering. "I lied. I didn't just take a week. I took a month."
My brows furrowed as confusion replaced my dread. "But why?"