AVNEIL.SHORT STORY - Chapter 11: Chapter 11

Neil sat in his office late that evening, staring at the documents on his screen.
He hadn’t read a word.
All he could think about was what he’d overheard that morning — Bebe’s teasing, Swetha’s knowing smile, and most of all… Avni’s silence.
She hadn’t denied it.
She hadn’t confessed it either.
But the way she blushed… the way she laughed when she thought no one was looking…
It did something to him.
And it scared him more than he cared to admit.
His phone buzzed.
“Security footage request: Avni Mehta – charity gala incident.”
Neil frowned. He hadn't asked for that.
But curiosity got the better of him. He clicked.
The footage played: Avni at the gala, helping an elderly guest who dropped her purse. Then talking sweetly to the decorators. Then picking up discarded gift bags and tucking them back properly — even though no one asked her to.
Then came the wine spill. Her terrified face. The mocking women. Her attempt to walk away with dignity.
And then him — storming in like some kind of knight.
Neil sat back slowly, the weight of reality pressing down.
She didn’t flirt with anyone.
She didn’t beg for attention.
She didn’t take credit for anything.
She just… helped.
Quietly. Gently. Lovingly.
Why would a gold digger care about folding donation envelopes for Bebe?
Why would a manipulative woman cry alone in the kitchen after getting scolded, instead of fighting back?
And then he remembered the time she offered to return her wedding jewellery to his mother — saying it "looked too expensive on someone like her."
He’d laughed at that back then. Coldly.
Now it haunted him.
With a heavy sigh, he closed the laptop and walked downstairs.
He found Avni in the garden, kneeling near the rose bushes with her sleeves rolled up, gently trimming dead leaves with a pair of small scissors.
She didn’t notice him at first.
He watched her for a moment — the way her brows furrowed in concentration, the way she smiled when a butterfly landed on the bush.
She looked… peaceful.
Real.
He cleared his throat. “Avni.”
She jumped slightly, standing up. “N-Neil! I didn’t hear you.”
“You’ve been out here long?”
She wiped her hands on her dupatta. “I just… needed some air.”
There was a pause.
Then Neil stepped forward.
“I need to say something.”
She blinked. “Okay.”
His voice was lower now, more unsure than she’d ever heard it.
“I’ve… misjudged you.”
Her eyes widened.
“I thought you were something you’re not,” he continued, eyes meeting hers. “I believed what I wanted to believe — that you were here for the money, the name… all of it.”
Avni looked away. “Most people do.”
“I was wrong,” he said simply. “You’ve done nothing but give to this family. You never asked for anything in return.”
He took a deep breath, then added, “Not even me.”
She froze.
The silence between them stretched — not awkward, but thick with meaning.
“I know I don’t deserve your kindness,” Neil said. “But you have it anyway. And that… says more about you than I ever allowed myself to see.”
Avni swallowed. “Why are you telling me this now?”
“Because I needed to stop lying to myself.”
He reached out and plucked a thorn from her dupatta. “You’re not the gold digger.”
Her voice was soft. “So what am I?”
Neil’s reply came slower. He looked down, then into her eyes again.
“You’re the one thing in this house that doesn’t pretend.”
A gust of wind swept through the garden, carrying the scent of roses.
And something shifted between them — something quiet, but unbreakable.
Neil turned to leave, then paused.
“I’m sorry, Avni,” he said over his shoulder.
She stood there, staring after him, heart aching with emotions she hadn’t expected.
Because now she wasn’t sure which was more dangerous—
His hate.
Or the beginnings of his heart