The drive to his next destination was filled with tension. Rudra's usually composed mind was racing, thoughts swirling around the unexpected turn his day had taken. As the car weaved through the evening traffic, Rudra remained deep in thought, replaying Ravi's words over and over.
"Anaya… she's been trying to connect with you…"
The words echoed in his mind, tugging at something he had long buried under layers of responsibility and duty. It wasn't that Rudra didn't care for Anaya—it was that he didn't know how to bridge the chasm that seemed to have formed between them, almost as soon as they were married.
Rudra's grip on the steering wheel tightened as he approached the familiar office building of one of Singhaniya Enterprises' key partners. The meeting had been called last minute, and though the business at hand was important, Rudra couldn't shake the sense that something far more personal was at stake.
Rudra stepped out of his car, his thoughts still churning from the day's events. The meeting had gone as expected, but the tension that had followed him throughout the day was still there, gnawing at the edges of his composure.
As he walked through the grand entrance, he was greeted by the familiar sights and sounds of his home—the soft hum of the air conditioning, the quiet clatter of dishes being set for dinner, and the faint sound of laughter coming from upstairs. But instead of comfort, Rudra felt a growing unease.
He made his way through the mansion, his steps heavy with the weight of the decisions he knew he had to make. As he approached the staircase, he paused, his eyes drifting towards the corridor that led to the guest rooms. He knew Anaya was there, probably unpacking the day's purchases with Ria and Misha.
It was Komal's voice that resonated with him now: "Marriage is about sharing—sharing your lives, your hopes, your dreams, and yes, your space."
Rudra barely noticed the time passing as the meeting stretched on, each decision made with precision, but his thoughts were far from clear. As the meeting concluded, his business partners left with handshakes and polite goodbyes, but Rudra lingered, his mind still preoccupied.
The evening air was thick with anticipation as Rudra's words lingered in the room. Anaya, standing near the bed with her newly purchased clothes spread out before her, could feel her heart pounding in her chest. The tension was palpable, the weight of the conversation that lay ahead pressing down on her shoulders. Rudra's gaze, usually so focused and unyielding, was softer tonight—almost hesitant.
Just as the silence threatened to stretch on uncomfortably, there was a knock at the door. It opened to reveal Rakhi, Rudra's mother, who stepped inside with her usual composed demeanor. But there was a flicker of something in her eyes—concern, perhaps—when she saw Rudra standing there, clearly in the midst of something important.
For a moment, Rudra hesitated, unsure of how to proceed. He wasn't accustomed to these kinds of personal interactions, and the thought of initiating a conversation with Anaya—about something as significant as moving into their room—was daunting.
But then he remembered Ravi's words, and Komal's insistence that marriage was about sharing, and something inside him shifted. This was his responsibility, his life, and he needed to take the first step.
Rudra knocked lightly on the door, drawing the attention of the three women inside. They turned in unison, their expressions ranging from surprise to curiosity.
"Rudra!" Ria exclaimed, her eyes widening in surprise. "We didn't expect you back so soon!"
Misha smiled warmly, though there was a hint of curiosity in her gaze."Did everything go well at the office?"
Rudra nodded, his gaze shifting to Anaya, who stood slightly apart from her sisters, her expression a mix of anticipation and uncertainty. "It went as expected," he replied, his voice steady but softer than usual.
"Rudra," Rakhi began, her voice calm but laced with the authority of a mother who knew her son all too well. "I see you're back. I was just talking to your grandmother about the living arrangements."
Rudra turned to face his mother, his expression guarded. "Yes, we were just about to discuss that."
Rakhi's eyes moved to Anaya, and there was a gentle smile on her lips, though her next words were directed at Komal, who had followed her into the room. "Mom, you are right about what you said earlier. But you know your grandson—he never allows anyone into his room when he is there."
The words hung in the air, a reminder of the formidable walls Rudra had built around himself over the years. Anaya felt a cold shiver of doubt settle over her. How could she possibly bridge the gap between them when even his mother acknowledged the challenge?
Rudra's jaw tightened slightly, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes. He knew his mother was right—he had always valued his privacy, his space. His room had been a sanctuary, a place where he could retreat from the pressures of the world. Allowing someone else into that space—especially someone as new to his life as Anaya—was something he hadn't yet come to terms with.
But then he glanced at Anaya, standing there with her eyes full of uncertainty, and something in him softened. He had a responsibility to her now, a commitment that went beyond his own comfort and habits.
"Anaya," Rudra began, his voice steady but low, "I know I haven't made this easy for you. I value my space, but I understand that things need to change. This is your home now, and I want you to feel that it's yours as well."
Rakhi looked at her son with a mixture of pride and surprise. It wasn't often that Rudra spoke of such personal matters, and she could see that he was making an effort—a significant one.
Anaya's heart fluttered at Rudra's words. It wasn't exactly a warm invitation, but it was more than she had expected. She took a small step forward, her voice barely above a whisper. "I understand, Rudra. I don't want to intrude on your space, but I do want to be... closer. I want us to start building our life together."
Rudra nodded, though the stiffness in his posture betrayed his discomfort. "We'll take it one step at a time. There's no rush."
Komal, who had been watching the exchange with a keen eye, smiled gently. "That's all we can ask for. One step at a time, together."
Rakhi sighed softly, her tone more resigned than before. "I know this won't be easy for either of you. Rudra, your habits are deeply ingrained, and Anaya, you're stepping into a situation that requires patience and understanding. But I believe you both can make it work if you're willing to meet each other halfway."
Rudra remained silent for a moment, his mind clearly working through the implications of what was being asked of him. He wasn't accustomed to sharing his space, his life, with someone else—not in this way. But the look in Anaya's eyes, the quiet hopefulness there, made him realize that this was more than just an arrangement. It was the beginning of something that could either bring them closer or drive them further apart.
Taking a deep breath, Rudra made a decision. "Anaya," he said, turning to face her fully, "we'll start tonight. You can move your things into the room, and we'll see how it goes from there. We'll figure it out together."
Anaya felt a wave of relief and gratitude wash over her. She knew this was difficult for Rudra, that it was a significant step for him to even make this offer. "Thank you, Rudra," she said softly, her eyes meeting his.
Rakhi, sensing that this was a pivotal moment for the young couple, decided to give them some privacy. "I'll leave you two to it," she said, her voice warm. "Just remember, you are not only Anaya Malhotra.. you are Anaya singhaniya now.. ohky?.
Anaya nodded in agreement. "Thanks Aunty.."
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Anaya stood in the hallway, just outside the door of Rudra's room—now *their* room. The weight of her grandmother's insistence still lingered heavily on her shoulders. She hadn't wanted this, hadn't been ready to step into a space so intimately tied to Rudra. But Komal had been firm. "You're his wife, Anaya. It's time you both start living as such." And so, with her heart pounding and her nerves on edge, she had agreed.
Ria stood beside her, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet as if trying to dispel the tension. "Are you ready?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern.
Anaya took a deep breath, her hand trembling as she reached for the door handle. "I guess I have to be."
As she pushed the door open, the first thing that struck her was the darkness. The room was unlike anything she had ever seen—rich, deep colors enveloped the space, creating an atmosphere that was both luxurious and foreboding. The walls were painted in shades of charcoal and deep midnight blue, with accents of burgundy and dark wood. Heavy curtains, drawn halfway, allowed only slivers of light to enter, casting long, shadowy patterns across the room.
To the right was an imposing bed, draped in dark linens that seemed to absorb the light, making the room feel even more enclosed. To the left, there was an attached study area, the mahogany desk meticulously organized, with neat stacks of papers and a sleek laptop sitting at the center. Shelves lined with leather-bound books and framed certificates filled the walls, speaking to Rudra's disciplined and precise nature.
Anaya stepped inside, her breath catching in her throat as she took in the overwhelming intensity of the room. It felt like stepping into a different world—Rudra's world, one of control, power, and shadow.
"What…?" Anaya started, her voice barely above a whisper. "Your brother is… What is this?" Her tone was a mix of confusion and awe, as she took in the meticulously curated space. "I mean… this is impressive, but so… intense."
Ria, who had followed her into the room, glanced around and shrugged. "Yeah, that's Rudra for you. His taste is… different from the rest of the family. This is only my second time being in here. It's always like this—dark, brooding, and a little intimidating. But that's just how he is. He likes things to be controlled, structured… even his space."
Anaya nodded slowly, her eyes drifting over the room again. "I can see that," she murmured. The room felt more like a fortress than a bedroom—a place designed to keep people out, to maintain distance. Yet here she was, being asked to share it, to step into the very heart of Rudra's private world.
They were interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. A staff member entered, carrying a stack of Anaya's clothes and belongings, ready to be placed in the room's ample wardrobe space. The staff member bowed slightly before moving toward the large, ornately carved wardrobe, beginning the process of carefully hanging Anaya's clothes and arranging her jewelry and accessories.
Ria, always quick on her feet, realized that this was quickly becoming too personal for her liking. She looked around the room, visibly uncomfortable with the idea of staying in such an intimate setting for too long. "Uh, I think I should leave you to settle in," Ria said quickly, glancing at the staff and then at Anaya. "You know, before Rudra gets back."
Anaya blinked, a bit taken aback by her sudden rush. "Ria, wait—" she started, wanting her friend to stay with her just a little longer in this overwhelming space. But Ria was already backing toward the door.
"I'll catch you later, okay? And don't worry, you'll be fine!" Ria called over her shoulder, offering a quick, reassuring smile before she slipped out the door.
Anaya watched her go, feeling more alone than ever in the shadowy room. She turned back to the staff, who were quietly going about their work, placing her belongings into the dark, polished wardrobe. She couldn't help but feel like she was intruding—an outsider trying to find her place in a world that wasn't hers.
With a sigh, Anaya began to wander the room, her fingers trailing along the smooth surface of the desk, the arm of the leather chair. Everything was so perfectly arranged, so meticulously in place. It was like stepping into a museum, where each item had a story, a purpose, carefully curated by the man who lived here.
As she moved toward the far wall, something caught her eye—photographs. They were framed and hung with precision, each one depicting moments from Rudra's life. There were pictures of him at business events, shaking hands with important-looking people, others of him in more casual settings, though still with that same composed, serious expression.
Anaya found herself drawn to one photograph in particular. It was a black-and-white image of Rudra standing in front of a sprawling cityscape, his gaze intense, as if lost in deep thought. There was something about the picture that captivated her—a glimpse of the man behind the controlled exterior, the one who bore the weight of responsibility with such determination.
She leaned in closer, studying his expression, trying to decipher what he might have been thinking at that moment. Without realizing it, she murmured to herself, "You asked me to marry you… out of nowhere. But why, Rudra?"
Her voice was barely audible, the question lingering in the air, unanswered. She was so absorbed in her thoughts, in trying to understand the man she had married, that she didn't notice when Rudra entered the room.
He stood in the doorway, his sharp eyes taking in the scene before him—Anaya, standing by the wall of photographs, her gaze fixed on his image. For a moment, he simply watched her, the corners of his mouth tightening as he observed her quiet curiosity.
Anaya flinched slightly when Rudra's voice broke the silence, his tone as cold and controlled as ever. "So, you're in my room now. Or should I say, our room? "
She spun around, her heart skipping a beat at the sight of him standing there. His presence seemed to fill the room, making it feel even smaller, more suffocating. She swallowed hard, her mind racing to find the right words. "I… I was just… looking," she stammered, her voice a little shaky. "I didn't mean to… I mean…"
Rudra's expression remained unreadable, his gaze sharp as he looked from her to the photographs on the wall. "It's fine," he said coolly, stepping further into the room. "You're free to look at whatever you want. This is your space now too."
Anaya nodded quickly, feeling the tension in the air thickening with every passing second. "Thank you," she managed, her voice barely above a whisper. "I just… I didn't expect it to be like this. Your room, I mean."
Rudra arched a brow, though his tone didn't change. "What did you expect?"
She hesitated, unsure how to answer without offending him. "I guess… I didn't know what to expect," she admitted, her eyes darting around the room again. "It's just so different from the rest of the house. Darker. More…"
"Controlled?" Rudra finished for her, his lips curving into a faint, almost humorless smile.
Anaya nodded, grateful that he had provided the word she was searching for. "Yes. Controlled."
Rudra's gaze lingered on her for a moment before he turned away, walking toward the desk where he casually placed his keys. "I've always preferred it this way. It's how I function best."
She watched him move through the room, each step measured and deliberate. There was something intimidating about the way he carried himself—so sure, so in command. But there was also a hint of something else, something deeper that she couldn't quite grasp.
"I can see that," Anaya replied, her voice still quiet. She felt a strange urge to break through the coldness between them, to find a way to connect with the man she was now married to. But how? How did you reach someone who had spent his entire life building walls around himself?
Rudra stopped at the edge of the bed, turning to face her again. "This isn't going to be easy, Anaya," he said, his voice low but firm. "But we'll figure it out. One step at a time."
Anaya nodded, feeling a mix of relief and anxiety at his words. "Yes… one step at a time," she echoed.
**To be continue...**