Chapter 31: 31. The Game Continues

The next morning, I woke up to find Mayura already up and about, her expression determined as she fiddled with something in the kitchen. I had a feeling she was planning something, especially after our little challenge from the previous night.

She had claimed she would make me smile first thing in the morning, and I was curious to see how she’d try to achieve that.

As I walked into the kitchen, the delicious aroma of freshly made parathas filled the air. Mayura turned around, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she greeted me. “Good morning, Mr. Shekhawat! Ready for a wonderful day?”

I arched an eyebrow, slightly suspicious but amused. “Depends on what you have planned.”

She grinned and set a plate of parathas in front of me. “I made your favorite breakfast! How’s that for a start?”

I couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at my lips, but I quickly hid it behind a neutral expression. “It’s a good effort, Jaana, but you’re going to have to try harder than that.”

Her eyes narrowed, clearly not expecting me to resist so easily. “Oh, don’t worry, Abhimaan. I have plenty of tricks up my sleeve.”

She spent the entire morning attempting to coax a smile out of me—bringing me coffee, playing our favorite songs, even trying to tell me a few jokes she had heard. But I remained steadfast, determined to keep a straight face.

As the hours passed and lunchtime approached, I could see the frustration building in her eyes. But instead of giving up, she suddenly adopted a look of mock anger.

“Fine, Mr. Grumpy,” she huffed, crossing her arms. “If you won’t smile, I’m just going to leave for college. Maybe I’ll find someone there who appreciates my efforts!”

I watched her stomp out of the room, my amusement growing. She was putting on quite the performance, but I knew she was only pretending to be upset. Still, I let her go, curious to see what she’d do next.

A few hours later, around lunchtime, I found myself checking my phone repeatedly. I had gotten used to her sending me little updates throughout the day—something I found strangely comforting, though I’d never admit it out loud. But today, there was nothing.

I frowned, debating whether to call her. After all, I knew she wasn’t really mad, but the silence was starting to get to me. Finally, I gave in and dialed her number.

She didn’t pick up.

I tried again. Still no answer.

That’s when I started to get genuinely concerned. What if something had happened? What if she was really upset and needed me?

I didn’t waste another second. Grabbing my keys, I headed straight to her college, determined to find out what was going on.

As I drove, I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something was off. Mayura wasn’t the type to ignore my calls without a good reason. And she had never once mentioned being upset enough to avoid talking to me.

When I finally arrived at the college, I found myself searching for her in the usual spots. It didn’t take long before I spotted her sitting with a group of her friends, deep in conversation. I could tell they were discussing something important because of the serious expressions on their faces—well, serious with a hint of mischief.

I approached quietly, keeping my distance so I could listen in.

“I’m telling you, Mayura,” one of her friends said, her tone filled with excitement, “the best way to get your boyfriend to smile is to do something completely unexpected. Like, pretend you’re mad at him, and then surprise him with something so over-the-top that he won’t know what hit him!”

Mayura looked skeptical. “But what if it backfires? I don’t want him to think I’m crazy.”

As I walked out of there , leaving Mayura and her friends behind, I couldn't help but chuckle to myself. Their suggestions for making me smile were as dramatic as they were ridiculous. I could picture Mayura trying to pull off each one, and the images were almost too much to handle. But the fact that she was going to such lengths to make me smile—it meant more than she probably realized.

My amusement began to fade, though, as I reached the principal’s office. The reason I was here was to see her, to understand why she was ignoring my calls . I knocked on the door, and the principal quickly stood up to greet me.

“Mr. Shekhawat, it’s an honor to have you here. How can I assist you today?”

I nodded, acknowledging his respect. This was, after all, a college I had sponsored. But I wasn’t here for formalities. “I’d like you to call one of your students to the office. My wife . Her name is Mayura abhimaan deep Shekhawat.”

The principal’s brow furrowed as he checked his records. “Mayura… Shekhawat, you say? Actually We don’t have any students by that name. ”

My eyebrows shot up in surprise. “What do you mean you don’t have a student by that name? My wife is enrolled here.”

He hesitated for a moment, then asked, “Could you mean mishka sen ?” He mentioned another name that I hadn’t heard before, and I felt a knot forming in my chest. “She’s the student in the arts program.actually mam requested to changed her name . ”

That was when it hit me—Mayura had changed her name at college. I clenched my jaw, a mix of irritation and hurt coursing through me. So she really didn’t want to be known as Mrs. Shekhawat here? The thought bothered me more than I cared to admit.

“Call her in,” I said tersely, trying to mask the irritation in my voice.

The principal nodded and made the call. I took a seat, my thoughts racing as I waited for her. I couldn’t believe she had gone to such lengths. Was she ashamed of being my wife?? Either way, it stung.

A few minutes later, the door opened, and Mayura walked in, her eyes widening in shock the moment she saw me sitting there. The principal, sensing the tension, excused himself and left us alone.

“Abhimaan… what are you doing here?” she asked, her voice laced with a mix of surprise and concern.

She glanced nervously toward the door, as if considering making a run for it. But before she could take another step, I was on my feet, closing the distance between us in two strides. I grabbed her wrist and pulled her back, pinning her gently but firmly against the wall.

“Running away from me, Jaana?” I murmured, my voice low and dangerous. “That’s not very wifely of you, is it?”

She swallowed hard, her eyes darting around the room as if looking for an escape. But there was no way I was letting her go that easily. The thought of her changing her name—of hiding her identity as my wife—ignited a possessiveness in me that I hadn’t felt in a long time.

“So, Mishka , is it?” I whispered, my voice dripping with a mix of anger and something else—something deeper. “You decided to change your name and not tell me? Why, Mayura? Why would you do that?”

She looked up at me, her eyes wide and filled with uncertainty. “Abhimaan, it’s not what you think—”

“Then tell me,” I demanded, leaning in closer until our faces were mere inches apart. I could feel the warmth of her breath against my skin, but it did nothing to cool the fire raging inside me. “Why did you feel the need to hide who you are?”

Her breath hitched, and she hesitated before responding. “I… I just didn’t want people here to know… who I am. I wanted to be normal, to blend in.”

“Blend in?” I repeated, my voice thick with disbelief. “You think you can just erase who you are? Erase us?”

“No,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “It’s not like that… I just… I wanted to keep this part of my life separate.”

Her words struck a nerve, and I could feel my control slipping. “Keep it separate? Mayura, you are mine. You belong to me, and I won’t have you pretending otherwise. Not here, not anywhere.”

I could see the conflict in her eyes, the way she was struggling to find the right words. But I didn’t need words—I needed her to understand, to feel what I was feeling.

Without warning, I closed the distance between us, my lips crashing down onto hers with a force that took her by surprise. The kiss was rough, demanding, a silent punishment for daring to utter those words—words that cut deeper than she could ever know.

She gasped against my mouth, but I didn’t relent. I needed her to feel the intensity of my emotions, the raw possessiveness that she had unleashed. My hands gripped her waist, pulling her closer, as if trying to fuse us together, to remind her that she was mine, and nothing would change that.

When I finally pulled back, she was breathless, her lips swollen from the intensity of our kiss. But I wasn’t done. I moved to her neck, trailing rough kisses along her soft skin, leaving marks that would remind her of this moment. I bit down gently, eliciting a soft moan from her as I claimed her in every way I knew how.

“Abhimaan… please,” she whispered, her voice shaky, but I couldn’t stop. Not now.

My hands roamed her body, feeling the way she responded to my touch, the way she surrendered to the possessiveness that I knew she felt too. I needed her to understand that she could never escape this—that she could never escape me.

“You’re mine, Mayura,” I murmured against her skin, my voice rough with emotion. “You’ll always be mine, no matter what name you go by, no matter how far you run. Don’t ever forget that.”

She nodded, her hands clutching at my shirt as if seeking some form of stability in the storm I had unleashed. And as I held her there, against the wall, I knew that this was the truth neither of us could deny. We were bound together in ways that went beyond names or identities. We were each other's, in every sense of the word.

Finally, I pulled back slightly, enough to look into her eyes. They were filled with a mixture of emotions—fear, longing, confusion—but beneath it all, I saw the same possessiveness that I felt mirrored in her gaze.

“Abhimaan… I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

I leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “You don’t have to be sorry, Jaana. Just don’t ever hide from me again.”

She nodded, and I could feel her body relaxing against mine, the tension slowly melting away.

“I won’t,” she promised, her voice stronger now.

I smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “Good. Because I don’t think I could handle it if you did.”

As we stood there, locked in each other’s embrace, I knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, we would face them together. Because in the end, nothing could come between us—not even the names we chose to wear.