Chapter 79: chapter 79

Author's POV Agathiyan sat on the doorstep, the cold wind brushing against his skin as the drizzle kissed the earth. His gaze lingered on his Royal Enfield, parked on the side stand before him. He hadn’t bothered to roll it into the garage—just left it there as he stepped inside earlier. Now, he wondered why. He wasn’t the kind to dwell on such trivial things, to notice the tiny details shaping his personal life. But today felt different. Everything felt different. And overwhelming.In his early forties, he was used to carrying the weight of responsibility, to being rigid, unwavering. But today, something shifted. He realized that even he could be pampered—that all it took was shedding the rigidity, making the smallest move. A simple bike ride with his father, the warmth in his grandparents’ home, the way they treated him like royalty—it all felt deeply overwhelming. His brows knitted as he spotted a mark on the bike’s petrol tank. Standing, he stepped forward, wiping it gently with his fingers. Only once the spot was gone did he allow himself to smile, stepping back to admire his bike. That’s when he heard it—the faint chime of anklets.Not the bright, bold sound he was used to in the past. These were different, muted—whispering instead of calling. She had traded the heavy ones for delicate pieces that barely spoke. He had never mentioned it, never questioned the shift. But he missed it—the way the silver jingle had once tangled with her moans, threading through the air like music. Now, she shuffled her sounds, careful, deliberate, as if reining herself in. Even the smallest changes carried weight.Even now, she wore the barely-there anklets because their daughter had chosen them this morning. Otherwise, she might have worn the silent ones.He always love the sounds of her anklets, though he never voiced it. Teenage Thulir had little patience for dressing up—she thrived in the comfort of shirts and pants, her wardrobe sparse with the occasional kurti. Even for grand occasions, she preferred simplicity over elaborate attire. Her mother, Uyir, understood this well, designing outfits that were both understated and elegant, a collection so tailored to Thulir that Tisya named it after her.Uyir had once stepped away from designing to care for her hyperactive daughter, only to find herself returning to it because of the very same child. She saw her own quiet, powerful fashion sense reflected in Thulir—subtle, comfortable, yet undeniably graceful. It was this realization that made her eager to create once more, just for her elder daughter.College brought change. Slowly, her choices evolved—a shift from shirts and tees to short kurtis, then studs, once detested, now an accepted part of her style. By the time she pursued her master's, anklets adorned her feet, a minimal chain rested on her neck. And when she became his secret lover, her awareness of herself deepened. Was she dressing for him? Perhaps. It wasn’t an abrupt transformation, but a gradual embrace of femininity, shedding the weight of being the masculine elder daughter while still holding the strength she always carried. She softened, grew lenient, yet remained the commanding presence within her family.Then parenthood came, reshaping everything. Her failing health demanded adjustments, and as life pressed in on them, her wardrobe retreated, folding into muted simplicity. He never questioned it, yet the absence remained. He missed her—the way she commanded their space, the way she dressed to challenge him, tease him, wreck him. He had loved it all. And when those moments slowly slipped away, consumed by the weight of responsibility, he realized they had stopped being them.Agathiyan exhaled deeply, tilting his head as Thulir stepped beside him, silent. She raised her brows—a quiet what? He said nothing, only took her hand and led her to the steps, where they settled into their familiar ease. After a moment, he dropped to the next step, his fingers toching her feet.Thulir frowned at him, momentarily confused—until she noticed his gaze lingering on her toes. Her lips twitched, curling into an amused smile."It’s fine now… it doesn’t hurt." "Hmm." Agathiyan only hummed, his fingers tracing the delicate chains of her anklets, his touch feather-light."Agathiya.." Her voice carried an unspoken question. He didn’t answer, just nodded before leaning down, pressing his lips to the tops of her feet. A rush of warmth followed the soft press of his lips, but it was the ticklish sensation that had her flinching. She tried to pull away, but he held her firmly, eyes lifting to meet hers in quiet defiance. His grip was steady—not rough, just insistent—his silent message clear. Stay.Thulir took a deep breath, swallowing her protests, and allowed him to continue. His fingers moved with deliberate care, pressing gently into the arches of her feet, kneading the tension away in slow, rhythmic strokes. The warmth of his palms, the pressure of his touch—it was grounding.Her gaze drifted beyond him, landing on the bike parked a few feet away."You left this here?" She pointed at it, breaking the silence.Agathiyan chuckled. "Still jealous of my bike?" Thulir shot the machine a glare, then turned it on him, her lips twisting in mock irritation. Agathiyan laughed out loud—until she delivered a sharp punch to his shoulder."You never took me for a ride when you first got the keys!" "I asked you to come," he protested."Not first. You took your brothers out for a round, then came back and stood in front of me like it was some grand prize—but you didn’t actually ask. Honking the horn doesn’t count." Her words came fast, a playful bite in her tone.Agathiyan tilted his head, smirking. "Before I could open my mouth, you shot me a death glare and marched straight to your appa. And the next thing I knew, he bought you a brand-new Royal Enfield. You learned to ride it in two weeks—while I just stood there watching......I wanted to teach you myself" Thulir arched a brow. " you did?""Of course I did. Because even when you learned to ride a bicycle, you went to Aadhavan instead of me." She huffed. "Because we were enemies, remember? And I’m not jealous of your bike—I just don’t like it."Agathiyan rolled his eyes. "Why?""Because it was the first thing you truly fought for. The first time I saw you be so stubborn."Agathiyan nodded and took a deep breath and finally asked her "Did you really think I’d give up on you if Aadhavan confessed his love?" Thulir hesitated, then shook her head. "I thought you wouldn’t fight for me. I didn’t have that hope then... I know it’s hypothetical, but I want to ask—what if Aadhavan had told me first? And I accepted his love? What would have happened then?" There was something almost fragile in the way she asked, as if she wasn’t sure she wanted the answer.Agathiyan raised a brow, lips twitching."Then our story would have had an anti-hero. I would’ve taken you—from him, from anyone who thought they had a right to you. The only reason I ever stepped back was because you were the one stopping me—not anyone else. And I knew you’d come back to me, so I didn’t have to make that extra effort."Thulir swallowed. "What do you mean by taking me?"He tilted his head, gaze darkening. "Like kidnapping you. Then marrying you. Making you mine. Maybe even erasing the person who stood in my way. Taking you somewhere far—somewhere only I knew. Locking you up until you accepted me. Because at the end of it all, you’re my destiny, and I’m yours. And if there was no way for that to happen—I’d make one."His tone was calm. Unwavering.Thulir stiffened, her breath catching. He wasn’t teasing.Agathiyan’s fingers brushed against her cheek, tracing lightly over her skin. Her gaze locked onto his—searching, questioning."I couldn’t imagine you in that light, Agathiya.""It’s just… circumstances make people act differently, Thulir. I would’ve gone insane if I hadn’t gotten you. That’s the truth. I’m more obsessed with you than you realize. You are the only thing keeping me sane—the only reason I still walk this earth as a gentleman."She swallowed hard, her heartbeat loud in her ears.Then, without thinking, she leaned forward, capturing his lips with hers—slow, steady, pressing into the certainty of his presence. When she pulled back, their foreheads touched, her fingers cupping his cheeks, her thumbs brushing over the rough stubble lining his jaw."I thought I was the only one obsessed with you," she murmured, lips curving into a faint smile."You know that’s a lie."She chuckled, resting against him."Being dead obsessed is fine—as long as it doesn’t hurt you."Thulir exhaled, pulling away slightly, eyes bright."I think I just found my next story’s hero.""Huh?" Agathiyan furrowed his brows."The anti-hero Agathiyan. My next story hero—obsessed, short-tempered, and criminal-minded. A policeman.""And equally criminal-minded and dominant Thulir as his obsession,"Agathiyan finished, a wicked glint in his eyes. Thulir laughed, nodding. He pulled her in again, capturing her lips with his, but the sudden crash of thunder forced him to pull back.“Seems like it’s going to pour… Let’s go inside,” he suggested, brushing his thumb against her cheek.But Thulir shook her head, eyes bright with mischief.“Ena dii?” “Let’s go on a ride.”His gaze flicked to the sky—dark clouds churned, the wind tugging at their clothes, teasing the ends of Thulir’s hair. Rain hadn’t set in yet, just a playful drizzle. Then he looked at her, waiting eagerly, lips parted as if holding back the rest of her excitement. He knew there was no talking her out of this.“Okay, wait here. I’ll bring the car keys,” he said, standing up.Before he could take a step, slender fingers curled around his wrist.He raised a brow. “Ipo ena dii?” (What now?)Thulir’s gaze darted toward the bike.Agathiyan stilled. His breath hitched slightly, not in disbelief—but surprise. “Are you sure?”She shrugged, unfazed.His mind whirled back fifteen years. Back to that young, hopeful Thulir—the one who had wanted to ride with him the moment he got his license. The memory flashed vividly: him grinning, proudly wheeling his Royal Enfield out of Revathi Illam, ready to show it off. And then her mother’s firm denial. From that moment, Thulir never touched his bike, never sat behind him, never entertained the thought of that ride again.That was why his favorite machine remained in the garage, untouched, collecting dust instead of memories. What was the point of keeping it when his wife refused to sit behind him?Once, it had been his dream—roaming the city on his bike, wind in their hair, her laughter ringing in his ears.“What... You still won’t take me on a ride? Not even now?” Thulir raised a brow at him, waiting.He blinked. Happiness surged through him so fast it left him breathless. Before he could think twice, he scooped her up and spun her in a circle. She gasped, then giggled, holding onto him tightly.Setting her down, he grasped her hand and pulled her toward the bike, his heart hammering with excitement. He picked up a helmet, ready to secure it on her head, but she jerked back.He frowned. “You’re not wearing a helmet?”She folded her arms, defiant. “I don’t want to.”With a sigh, he reached for his own, but once again, her hand shot out, stopping him.“Yeii Theeni, ena dii?”“You don’t wear one either.”His brows drew together. “Hello, madam... If a police officer catches me riding without a helmet, I’ll get a ₹1,000 fine, and my license will be suspended for three months.”“As if I don’t know.”“Yeii—"“Listen.” She leaned in, voice teasing but firm. “We’re not drunk, not racing, and definitely not on a busy highway where we’d get thrown off by some heavy vehicle. It’s about to rain, and I want to go on a ride—with my husband, on his favorite bike. No helmets, no interruptions. I want to kiss your neck, bite your ears while you drive, tangle my fingers in your hair, scream in delight as the rain drenches us. And all that isn’t possible with helmets in the way.”She paused, eyes twinkling with challenge.“But if you’re scared the traffic police will suspend the Salem district’s Commissioner in Chennai for this, then—” She slipped her hand into his pants pocket, plucked out the bike key, and climbed onto the seat. “I’ll ride it. I’ll pay the fine. My license suspension won’t affect me. And your reputation? Safe and sound.”Agathiyan stood frozen, gaping like a fish, struggling to grasp what had just happened.