Chapter 20: The Heavy Lifting
[System Notification: New Event — 'The Testosterone Trials' | Prize: Meera's Approval]
The air in the half-finished patisserie was thick with more than just cement dust. It was thick with the kind of competitive energy usually reserved for Olympic finals or high-stakes poker games.
Arjun was leaning against a stack of imported Italian tiles, tossing a heavy wrench in the air. "You know, Meera, these old colonial buildings have tricky foundations. You need someone with... physical stamina to handle the renovation. It's not exactly a desk job."
Ishaan, who had been quietly fuming while looking at a plumbing diagram, looked up. He set the paper down with terrifying deliberation. "Physical stamina? Is that what we're calling it now? I spent thirty-six-hour shifts on my feet in the ER, Arjun. I think I can handle a few bricks."
Arjun's eyes sparked. "Is that so, Doc? Because the delivery truck just dropped off the cast-iron oven components at the curb. The lift is broken. If you're so worried about Meera's 'ventilation,' maybe you should help me move them into the kitchen."
I stepped forward. "Arjun, that's a two-man professional job. Don't be—"
"I've got it," Ishaan said, shedding his light linen jacket. He began rolling up his sleeves, revealing forearms that were, quite frankly, a distraction to the entire architectural profession.
Round 1: The Heavy Lifting
[BGM: Intense Industrial Rock]
What followed was the most ridiculous display of "Manly Competition" I had ever witnessed.
Arjun grabbed a heavy crate of tiles, his biceps bulging as he hoisted it onto his shoulder. He walked past Ishaan with a smirk. "Watch the toes, Doc. These are heavy."
Ishaan didn't say a word. He walked to the curb and grabbed the heavier crate—the one containing the industrial mixer motors. He lifted it with a grunt, the veins in his neck popping, and carried it all the way to the back of the store without breaking his stride.
He set it down and looked at Arjun. "Is that all? I've seen heavier toddlers in the pediatrics ward."
Ananya walked in, sipping a cold coffee. She leaned against the blue doorframe and looked at me. "Are they really doing a 'Who can carry more' competition? In 30-degree heat? Men are fascinatingly simple creatures, aren't they?"
"I'm going to stop them," I whispered, though I was secretly impressed by the way Ishaan's shirt was now clinging to his back.
"Don't you dare," Ananya whispered back, pulling out her phone. "This is going straight to the neighborhood group. 'Doctor vs. Contractor: The Battle for the Bakery.'"
Round 2: The Precision Test
After the heavy lifting, both men were drenched in sweat and breathing hard. They were standing in the center of the room, glares locked.
"Strength is one thing," Arjun panted, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. "But construction is about precision. I bet you can't even tell if this floor is level without a machine."
"I'm a surgeon, Arjun," Ishaan replied, his voice dangerously low. "My life is literally built on millimeters. I can tell if your heartbeat is off by two beats per minute just by looking at your neck. You want to talk about precision?"
Arjun grabbed a spirit level and a hammer. "Let's see who can set these baseboards the fastest. Winner gets to take Meera to 'site-survey' that new rooftop cafe tonight."
"Wait, I didn't agree to—" I started.
"Deal," Ishaan snapped.
The next ten minutes were a blur of hammers, nails, and focused silence. Arjun worked with the practiced ease of a professional, but Ishaan worked with the terrifying focus of someone suturing an artery.
Clang. Thwack. Zip.
They finished at the exact same second. They both stood up, looking at their work. Both baseboards were perfect. Both were level.
The Stalemate
"Looks like a tie," Arjun grumbled, though he looked slightly more respectful of the "Doctor" now.
"Not quite," Ishaan said. He walked over to me, and before I could react, he pulled me into his arms. He was sweaty, he smelled like work and intensity, and his heart was thundering against my chest.
He didn't look at me. He looked straight at Arjun.
"The 'prize' isn't a survey, Arjun. And she isn't a prize. She's my fiancée. And while you're here to build the walls, I'm the one who's going to live inside them with her."
Arjun stared at him for a long beat. Finally, he let out a short, dry laugh and shook his head. "Okay, Doc. I get it. You win the 'Territorial Male' award for today."
Arjun picked up his toolbelt and headed toward the back. "Meera! I'll see you tomorrow for the electricals! Try to keep your bodyguard on a leash!"
The Aftermath
As soon as Arjun was out of earshot, Ishaan's bravado vanished. He sagged against the wall, his chest heaving.
"Are you okay?" I asked, rushing over to him with a bottle of water.
"My back... might actually be broken," he groaned, taking a long swig of water. "Why is cast iron so heavy? Who needs an industrial mixer that weighs as much as a small car?"
"You're an idiot," I said, but I was smiling. I reached out and wiped a smudge of dust from his cheek. "You didn't have to prove anything. I already chose you."
"I know," Ishaan whispered, catching my hand and kissing my palm. "But I wanted him to know. And besides..." He leaned in, his eyes sparking with that old mischief. "Did you see my arms when I lifted that crate? Admit it, you liked it."
"I'm not answering that," I blushed.
"Silence is a 'Yes' in medical terms," he grinned.
[System Notification: Relationship Status — Bonded through Manual Labor | Warning: The 'Secret' in Julian's flowers is still waiting...]
[Author's Corner]
THE BROMANCE RIVALRY! 😂 Ishaan almost threw out his back just to prove a point! But now that the dust has settled... we still don't know what Julian sent in those flowers.
Status Update:
Ishaan: Victorious (but sore).
Meera: Entertained and Smitten.
Arjun: Respectfully defeated (for now)