DIVYA
With a heavy heart, I clenched my fists, anger boiling under the surface. Ignoring his presence completely, I stormed past him, refusing to acknowledge his existence. As I stepped into the room, I found Ananya, her face etched with exhaustion, talking quietly to Vaani. Her tired eyes softened when she saw me, and she offered me a weary smile. I returned it, trying to keep my emotions in check.
I moved towards the babies, watching their peaceful, tiny bodies as they slept. I didn't have the heart to disturb their slumber. Instead, I turned and gently wrapped my arms around Ananya.
"I'm glad you came," she murmured, her voice carrying a hint of relief.
"How could I not?" I whispered back, my tone soft but steady.
She chuckled, a sound that was more resigned than amused.
"You should rest," I said, squeezing her hand before stepping back. "I'll be just outside." With a final glance at her, I walked out of the room, Vaani trailing behind me in silence.
I paused in the hallway, hesitant to leave so soon. It felt wrong-like I should stay longer, like I had unfinished business. My eyes betrayed me then, shifting toward the far end of the corridor where I saw him. Raghav stood there, talking to Aakash's father. The sight of him made my chest tighten painfully, a reminder of how little I meant to him. I had once imagined he could be my entire world, but now I was nothing more than an afterthought, a name on a forgotten list.
As if sensing my gaze, Raghav's head tilted, and our eyes locked for a brief, charged moment before I quickly looked away. Vaani, ever the observer, smiled gently and handed me a cup of coffee. My hands trembled as I took it, and a few drops spilled onto my dress. Thankfully, the liquid wasn't scalding.
"I'm so sorry, Divya," Vaani apologized, her voice filled with concern.
I waved her off, forcing a small smile. "It's fine. I'm heading home anyway; I'll change there."
I rubbed at the stain absently before pulling Vaani into a quick hug. Then, with a deep breath, I headed toward the elevator, my mind racing. But before I could reach the doors, I heard him. Raghav. He was shouting my name.
I didn't stop. I walked faster, hoping to escape before he could catch up. But just as I was about to step into the elevator, I felt a strong hand grab my wrist. In one swift motion, Raghav spun me around, pulling me flush against him. My heart thundered in my chest, betraying the anger I wanted to hold onto.
"Let go of me!" I snapped, my voice sharp, but it only seemed to amuse him.
He smirked, his grip tightening as he leaned in, his breath warm against my ear. "Careful, sweetheart," he drawled, his tone teasing, eyes glinting with a dangerous edge. "You might not be ready for what you're asking."
His audacity made my blood boil. My eyes widened in disbelief at his shamelessness. How could he act like this, as if everything between us hadn't shattered?
"Divya, why are you ignoring me?" Raghav's voice cut through the tension, but instead of answering, I let out a hollow laugh.
"Oh, so you do know the word 'ignore'? Impressive," I taunted, my words dripping with sarcasm.
"Divya..." he half-yelled my name, frustration evident in his voice.
"Lower your voice. This is a hospital," I hissed, my anger barely contained.
Without another word, he grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the secluded area of the VIP ward, away from prying eyes.
"Why are you acting like this?" he demanded, his eyes searching mine for an answer.
I chuckled again, this time crossing my arms over my chest and fixing him with a glare. "Why am I acting like this? You tell me, Raghav. Why don't you explain why I feel this way?" My voice sharpened as the words left my mouth.
He raked his fingers through his already messy hair, making it even more disheveled. Damn, he looked good like that. But I quickly shook the thought from my mind. I needed to focus.
Silence hung between us, his lack of response only fueling my irritation.
"You know what, Raghav? I fucking hate you. You're such a hypocrite." My voice cracked with the weight of my emotions. "You've got time to show up at the hospital but can't spare a single minute to call the woman you went on a date with?" I yelled, my anger flaring.
"Divya, it's not like that-" he started, but I cut him off, unwilling to hear his excuses.
"I don't know what I mean to you, Raghav, but I refuse to be just another one of your conquests." My voice lowered, more vulnerable now. "I've spent my whole life feeling unwanted. My parents made sure I knew I wasn't wanted, and I refuse to let my future partner make me feel the same. I'd rather end things now than let it destroy me later." My throat tightened, the vulnerability in my voice betraying how much this was affecting me.
"Divya..." he muttered, stepping closer and cupping my face with his hands. His warm touch made my heart stir, but I refused to let myself get lost in it.
"Raghav, it's okay if you've realized I'm not worth your time. It's okay if you don't want me," I whispered, pulling away to create some distance. "But don't give me false hope. Don't pretend to care-it hurts too much."
His eyes flashed with frustration as he grabbed my hand again. "Will you stop looking down on yourself, Divya?" His voice was tight, almost angry. "I'm sorry I made you feel like that. I don't care how your parents treated you. To me, you're everything. You deserve the world."
His words caught me off guard, making my heart race. Could I believe him? I searched his eyes, and for the first time, I saw sincerity.
"I've been swamped with work, and I tried to find time to spend with you, but I failed. I'm sorry," he admitted, his voice softening.
Sorry. That one word felt so foreign coming from him. Maybe I had overreacted. Maybe he really had been busy, but my insecurities always seemed to win the internal battle.
"I'm sorry for hurting you," he continued. "I know I messed up, and I want to make it right."
I narrowed my eyes, skeptical. "And how exactly do you plan to make it right?" I challenged.
"By spending the weekend with you," he offered, his signature charm sneaking back into his voice.
I scoffed. "You really think, after everything you did, I'd agree to spend the weekend with you?"
He shrugged, his grin widening. "True, but there's no harm in trying."
"Raghav, I'm serious. I don't want to waste time on something that's going nowhere. I want something real," I said, my voice steady but filled with desperation.
"I am serious, Divya. About us," he insisted.
"Then why do your actions say otherwise?" I muttered, the sting of hurt evident in my tone.
He exhaled, looking at me earnestly. "Let me be honest. I've never been in a serious relationship before. I've had flings, yes, but nothing like this. I don't really know how to handle it, but I want to try."
I swallowed hard, trying to process his words. Could I trust him? Could I risk getting hurt again?
His voice broke the silence. "So, will you spend the weekend with me, my little angel?" He extended his hand toward me, his eyes full of hope and uncertainty.
I glanced at his hand, then back at him, hesitating. Doubts clouded my mind, but a part of me-maybe the selfish part-wanted to believe in him, to believe I could be loved, even if just for a fleeting moment.
Finally, I sighed. "It would be a pleasure," I said quietly, slipping my hand into his.
A slow smile spread across his face as he pulled me close, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. "Give me a moment, I need to make a call," he murmured, stepping away.
I leaned against the wall, watching as he disappeared down the empty corridor. Hospitals always gave me the creeps, places where life and death hung in the balance. I never imagined I'd be here, of all places, having this conversation with Raghav.
I chuckled to myself. But even now, I didn't know what I truly meant to him, or what this thing between us would turn into. Only time would tell.
As I stood there leaning against the wall, my mind raced. Raghav's words swirled in my head, but uncertainty still gnawed at me. I couldn't shake the feeling that this was too good to be true, that I was setting myself up for heartbreak. Yet, a part of me-foolishly, perhaps-wanted to trust him, to let myself believe that this time, maybe, things would be different.
Footsteps echoed down the corridor, pulling me from my thoughts. Raghav reappeared, his phone tucked into his pocket, a small but satisfied smile tugging at his lips. His presence was as magnetic as ever, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't ignore the way my heart reacted to him.
"Ready to go?" he asked, his voice softer now, almost tender.
I nodded, pushing off the wall and walking toward him. Without another word, we made our way down the hallway together. There was a weight in the air, the unspoken tension of what had just passed between us, but for the moment, we let it linger.
As we stepped outside the hospital, the cool evening air hit my face, refreshing and grounding. The world seemed quieter now, as if the chaos of the day had faded away. Raghav led me to his car, a sleek black SUV parked under the dim glow of the streetlights. He opened the passenger door for me, and I slid inside, my mind still racing.
Once he got in and started the engine, the silence between us grew heavy again, the soft hum of the car the only sound. I glanced at him from the corner of my eye, curiosity getting the better of me.
"Where are we going?" I asked, my voice tentative.
Raghav glanced at me, a playful glint in his eyes as a slow smile spread across his face. "We're going to my lake house," he said casually, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
My heart skipped a beat, excitement bubbling up inside me despite myself. "Your lake house?" I echoed, my voice betraying the thrill I felt.
"Yeah," he said, glancing at me again, clearly amused by my reaction. "I figured we could use some time away from everything, just the two of us. No distractions, no interruptions."
I couldn't help the smile that crept onto my face. I had heard about his lake house in passing, but I never thought I'd be going there with him. The idea of being somewhere secluded, away from the noise of the city and the weight of everything else, felt like an escape I didn't even know I needed.
"That sounds... amazing," I admitted, letting myself feel the excitement for once.
Raghav chuckled softly, the sound warm and reassuring. "I thought you'd like the idea."
The car ride stretched on, but it wasn't an uncomfortable silence. In fact, there was something comforting about the quiet, the way the city lights blurred past the windows, giving way to the darker, more open roads leading out of town. I rested my head against the seat, watching the world fade away as we moved farther from the hospital and closer to whatever awaited us at the lake house.
The shrill ring of my phone cut through the silence. I pulled it out, my brows furrowing at the unknown number. Part of me wanted to ignore it, but something told me it could be important. I sighed and answered.
"Hello?" I said, keeping my tone neutral.
"Ms. Aggarwal," came the deep voice on the other end.
I straightened, recognizing the voice immediately. "Yes, Mr. Scott. How can I help you?"
"So, what have you decided about the investment?" His tone was calm, almost too calm, but there was an edge there I didn't like.
I hesitated for just a moment. "Well, it's a good proposal, but I've decided to decline."
He didn't respond immediately, and the silence felt heavy. Finally, he said, "If you need more time to reconsider, you can take it. I'm in no hurry."
"No, Mr. Scott, I've made my decision. Thank you for your offer, but I won't be moving forward. Have a good day," I said firmly, ending the call before he could try to sway me.
As I slipped my phone back into my bag, I noticed Raghav watching me, his brows slightly furrowed.
"Who was that?" he asked, his voice casual, though I could sense the undercurrent of curiosity.
"Henry Scott," I replied. "He's been wanting to invest in my art gallery."
Raghav's expression darkened slightly. "Why does he want to invest? It sounds... fishy."
"Exactly," I said, nodding. "That's why I turned him down. Something about the whole thing didn't sit right with me."
Raghav exhaled, the tension easing from his shoulders. "Good. But be careful. Men like him don't usually take 'no' for an answer."
I offered a small smile, appreciating his concern. "I know. Don't worry, I can handle it."
He gave me a long, searching look before he spoke again, softer this time. "I know you can, Divya. But if anything happens... if you need help, promise me you'll let me know."
His sincerity made me smile. "I promise," I said, giggling softly at the way his concern made him so endearing.
As we pulled up in front of the lake house, my eyes widened at the sight.
The house wasn't overly large, but it was perfectly nestled by the water, surrounded by lush greenery. It was peaceful, serene-the kind of place that made you forget the rest of the world existed. Birds chirped in the distance, their song mixing with the soft breeze that rustled the trees. The afternoon sun cast a warm glow over everything, making the scene look like something out of a dream.
I stepped out of the car, taking in the fresh air, and for a moment, I felt a pang of homesickness-not for a place, but for Arctic, my big cat.
Without thinking, I turned to Raghav and asked, "How is Arctic? Does he miss me?"
Raghav looked taken aback by the sudden question, but a smile tugged at his lips. "He's doing fine. And yeah, I think he misses you."
I laughed softly, though there was a warmth in my chest at the thought of my cat missing me. But Raghav's next words caught me off guard.
"Shouldn't you ask how I'm doing? Or if I miss you?" he teased, his eyes sparkling mischievously.
I let out a laugh, shaking my head. "Are you jealous of Arctic?" I teased back, unable to resist.
He scoffed, though the hint of a smile betrayed him as he entered the code to unlock the front door. "Jealous? Of him? Please," he muttered, but I could tell by the way his lips twitched that I had hit a nerve.
I followed him inside, grinning to myself. Jealous Raghav was definitely cute. The thought made me chuckle, and for the first time in a long while, I felt the tension between us ease, replaced by something lighter, something that felt almost... natural.
As I entered the house, my eyes widened at the sight of the pristine interior. Everything was immaculately clean, and the entire space was bathed in white-walls, furniture, and even the floors. The full-length windows offered a breathtaking view of the lake, its tranquil waters sparkling under the afternoon sun. Across the open living space, I could see the sleek dining table and the modern kitchen beyond, every inch of the place radiating elegance and calm.
"This place looks spotless," I said, impressed. "But I didn't see any staff around."
Raghav, casually leaning against the doorframe, replied, "There's a servants' quarters out back. They must've cleaned up before leaving."
I hummed in response, still taking in the sheer serenity of the place. Then, as if reading my mind, he said, "Why don't you go and change? The first room on your left upstairs is yours."
I was about to head upstairs when I suddenly realized, "Wait, I don't have any clothes with me."
Raghav chuckled, his voice laced with amusement. "Don't worry, I've already arranged everything for you."
I shot him a knowing look, already guessing what that meant. "You mean you bought me a bunch of expensive clothes again, didn't you?"
He grinned, his smile unapologetic. "Guilty."
Sighing in frustration, I couldn't help but scold him, "Raghav, I told you before not to waste money like that. If you have so much to spare, why not donate it to charity?"
"Relax, my angry bird. I won't do it again. Happy?" he said, though the press of his lips told me he was lying. He would do it again-and probably soon.
I sighed in defeat and turned to head upstairs. Arguing with him was a lost cause.
As I climbed the stairs, I heard him murmur under his breath, "Cute."
I quickly made my way into the room and paused, taking in its soft, inviting charm. The white walls were accented by a wooden ceiling, giving the space a cozy yet modern feel. The room had a large window that led to a balcony overlooking the lake, and in one corner, there was a fireplace that added warmth to the room's aesthetic.
But I didn't have much time to admire the room. I went straight to the walk-in closet and, as expected, found it filled with beautiful, vibrant clothes. Dresses, blouses, shoes-it was like stepping into a boutique.
The sight of the colors lifted my spirits, and I found myself drawn to a blue puff-sleeve dress. It was simple but elegant, and as I slipped it on, I felt an odd sense of satisfaction. I braided my hair and added a delicate silver chain around my neck, wanting to look nice for him. I wasn't sure why, but the thought of Raghav seeing me like this made me feel... different.
When I looked at my reflection in the mirror, I saw someone who looked content, someone who glowed-not just from the sunlight but from within. So this was what it felt like to be happy and at ease with someone you care about.
Humming softly to myself, I headed downstairs, only to frown when I didn't see Raghav in the living room. Then, I heard some noise coming from the kitchen, and curiosity got the better of me.
What I saw left me utterly speechless.
Raghav stood in the kitchen, his jacket gone, sleeves rolled up, and the veins on his forearms visible as he skillfully chopped vegetables. His movements were precise, focused, and there was something incredibly attractive about the sight of him working so intently. I never imagined he could cook, let alone with such perfection. The scene was so domestic, so... intimate.
I swallowed, suddenly feeling the air grow warmer, despite the cool breeze from the air conditioner.
"If you're done staring," he said in that deep, teasing voice of his, "why don't you tell me what you'd like for lunch?"
My cheeks flushed, caught in the act. Embarrassed, I walked over and took a seat on the kitchen stool, trying to act nonchalant. "You know how to cook?" I asked, still stunned.
He gave me a sideways glance, smirking. "You're asking the man who went to culinary school if he knows how to cook?"
My eyes widened in shock. "Culinary school? I thought the restaurant was a family business or something! And I thought you owned a tech company. Like some tech genius"
He chuckled at my reaction. "Nope. The restaurant chain isn't part of my family business. My dad was in... exports, if you know what I mean."
I couldn't help but laugh, knowing all too well what kind of 'exports' his father dealt in, given their mafia ties. But I was still amazed.
"And i build the tech company just to take revenge from Aakash. It's solely handle by Rohan. He is indeed a tech genius. " he said
"So, you built this entire restaurant empire yourself?" I asked
He nodded as he rinsed the rice. "I had a trust fund when I turned eighteen. I used it to build the chain from scratch."
I gasped, realizing Raghav wasn't just some wealthy heir-he was a self-made billionaire. "That's... incredible. But what made you want to become a chef?"
He stopped chopping suddenly, his expression shifting to something more somber. After a long pause, he said softly, "My mother."
His voice was quieter, more vulnerable, and I immediately regretted asking. We never talked about his mother-he'd always kept that part of his life locked away.
"She loved cooking," he continued, stirring the vegetables in the pan. "She dreamed of opening her own restaurant one day. And I promised her, when I was just a kid, that I'd do it for her."
He chuckled sadly, the sound hollow. "I guess you kept the promise." I said
I watched him, feeling a strange sense of connection. In that moment, I understood that we were both broken, though in different ways. He had lost the mother he loved beyond words, and that loss had shattered him. I, on the other hand, had parents who never gave me their love, and that absence had left me hollow. One of us had love and lost it, while the other had never known its warmth.
In that moment, it hit me: maybe we were fated to meet, two broken souls destined to find each other. To heal each other.
Maybe this wasn't just coincidence.
Maybe this was destiny.