Chapter 2 The Life He Chose

At exactly 6:00 a.m., Aarav Malhotra's alarm rang.

He silenced it before it could ring a second time.

For a few seconds, he lay still, staring at the ceiling.

The house was quiet.

Peaceful.

The only time of day when nobody needed anything from him.

Then he sat up.

The moment was over.

His day had begun.

---

The kitchen lights flickered on as he prepared breakfast.

One hand stirred milk on the stove while the other packed a lunchbox.

A small container of fruit.

A sandwich cut into neat triangles.

A chocolate biscuit hidden underneath because someone would spend ten minutes negotiating breakfast otherwise.

By now, he could do it all without thinking.

It had become muscle memory.

Routine.

Life.

A few minutes later, soft footsteps padded across the floor.

Aarav glanced up.

A small figure stood in the doorway, clutching a stuffed dinosaur.

Messy hair.

Sleepy eyes.

A blue blanket dragging behind him.

Vihaan.

"Good morning, buddy."

The little boy blinked.

Then slowly walked over and wrapped his arms around Aarav's leg.

Aarav smiled.

The hug lasted only a few seconds.

But it was enough.

It always was.

---

Five years ago, mornings looked different.

Five years ago, his elder brother used to call him every Sunday.

Five years ago, there were family vacations being planned.

Birthday celebrations.

Future dreams.

Then one phone call changed everything.

Even now, Aarav remembered the feeling.

The disbelief.

The numbness.

The moment someone told him his brother and sister-in-law were gone.

Some days it still didn't feel real.

Some wounds simply learned how to stay quiet.

---

"Uncle."

A small voice interrupted his thoughts.

Aarav looked down immediately.

"Hm?"

Vihaan pointed toward the lunchbox.

"Biscuit?"

Caught.

Aarav laughed.

"You weren't supposed to find that until school."

A tiny smile appeared on Vihaan's face.

One of the rare ones.

The kind Aarav worked hard for.

The kind that made difficult days worth it.

---

An hour later, they were driving to preschool.

The city slowly woke around them.

Traffic increased.

Street vendors opened their stalls.

People hurried toward offices.

Vihaan sat quietly in the backseat, looking out the window.

Most children his age talked constantly.

Asked questions.

Demanded attention.

Vihaan didn't.

After losing his parents, something inside him had changed.

He spoke.

But rarely.

Only when he wanted to.

Only when he felt safe.

Doctors called it trauma.

Counselors called it grief.

Aarav simply called it healing.

And healing took time.

---

After dropping Vihaan at school, Aarav drove straight to work.

His company occupied three floors of a glass building in the city's business district.

Meetings began before he reached his office.

Emails flooded his inbox.

Deadlines waited impatiently.

By lunchtime, he had forgotten to eat.

Again.

His assistant reminded him twice.

He ignored her twice.

Finally, around three in the afternoon, his mother called.

Aarav answered immediately.

He always answered family calls.

"Did you have lunch?"

There it was.

The question she asked every day.

"Yes."

A lie.

His mother knew it too.

"Aarav."

"What?"

"You can't keep doing this."

Doing what?

Working?

Managing responsibilities?

Keeping everything together?

He had been doing it for years.

"I'm fine, Mom."

There was a pause.

Then she sighed.

The kind of sigh mothers use when they know their child is being stubborn.

"We're coming for dinner tonight."

"Okay."

"And don't order food."

"I wasn't planning to."

"You were."

Aarav smiled despite himself.

His mother knew him too well.

---

That evening, after picking up Vihaan from school, they returned home.

The house quickly filled with familiar voices.

His parents arrived carrying enough food to feed an entire neighborhood.

His father immediately occupied his favorite chair.

His mother took over the kitchen despite repeated protests.

And Vihaan suddenly became much more talkative.

Not with words.

But with smiles.

With hugs.

With little moments of happiness.

Aarav watched from across the room.

For a brief moment, everything felt normal.

Complete.

Then his mother sat beside him.

A dangerous sign.

"Aarav."

Here we go.

"Hm?"

"You need to think about your future."

There it was.

Right on schedule.

"My future is fine."

"What about companionship?"

"I'm not interested."

"What about yourself?"

Aarav didn't answer.

Because he genuinely didn't know.

Somewhere along the way, he had stopped thinking about himself.

Work.

Vihaan.

Responsibilities.

That was enough.

More than enough.

Marriage wasn't even on the list.

Not because he disliked it.

Simply because he had no room left for it.

And honestly?

He wasn't sure he wanted to make room.

Not anymore.

Across the room, Vihaan laughed quietly at something his grandfather did.

The sound made Aarav smile.

That smile stayed long after the conversation ended.

Completely unaware that somewhere else in the city, a woman named Aanya Sharma had just rejected another marriage proposal she never asked for.

And that fate was slowly moving them toward the same path.

To be continued...

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