Tara glanced at the girl she had rescued, now sitting upright on the bed, fully conscious. The morning sun filtered through the windows, casting a soft glow around them. The girl, however, remained silent, her face pale with fear, her eyes wide and distant. Tara's heart ached at the sight-she hadn't spoken a word since regaining consciousness, too frightened to even attempt a conversation.
After the doctor informed Tara that the girl was stable and could be discharged, Tara decided to take her home. Though she wanted to ask questions, to find out what had happened, she understood that the girl wasn't ready. Tara gently brushed aside her curiosity, choosing instead to focus on helping her recover. Once the girl felt safe and regained her strength, then they could address the questions that lingered. For now, getting her home and out of harm's way was the priority.
Tara entered the house with Roohi by her side and gently guided her to sit on the sofa, offering a reassuring smile. Just as she did, Amira appeared, ready to scold her daughter for not coming home the previous night, but her expression shifted the moment she saw Roohi. Amira's brow furrowed in confusion as she looked between the two.
"Tara?" Amira called out, her tone softer now, her curiosity piqued. Tara turned towards her mother.
"Who is this?" Amira asked, her gaze landing on the scared-looking girl beside Tara. Roohi, feeling nervous under Amira's scrutiny, hesitated but remained silent. Despite her fear, she sensed kindness in Tara, which is why she didn't resist being brought here.
Tara explained everything that had happened, recounting the events of the previous night. Amira's concern deepened as she listened, and she soon softened toward Roohi, her eyes filled with empathy.
"Beta, don't be scared," Amira said in a soothing voice, stepping closer. "You're safe here with us." Her words were gentle, reassuring Roohi, who glanced up at her.
"You can tell us what happened," Amira encouraged with genuine concern, her warmth palpable. "Where are you from, and how did you end up like this?"
Roohi hesitated for a moment before sighing and speaking in a quiet, shaky voice. "I'm Roohi," she introduced herself, then began explaining how she ended up in this situation-though she carefully avoided mentioning anything about her marriage.
Tara and Amira listened quietly, feeling a deep sense of compassion for her.
"Don't worry, beta, we're with you," Amira said softly, placing a comforting hand on Roohi's head. Roohi gave a small, grateful smile, but her eyes welled up with tears.
"You can stay here as long as you need, until you feel ready to go back," Amira added, gently wiping Roohi's tears away. Her tenderness made Roohi smile through her tears.
"Don't cry now, it's not good to cry in a home full of love," Amira said with a caring tone. Roohi frowned slightly, confused.
"You're also our daughter for as long as you're here," Amira added warmly, and Roohi, unable to hold back, broke into tears again, this time leaning into Amira for a hug. Tara and Amira exchanged a look of pity and understanding as Amira held Roohi, soothing her.
Amira pulled back after a moment, wiping away Roohi's tears with a smile. "That's better, isn't it?"
Suddenly, Tara gasped dramatically, trying to lighten the mood. "Oh no, I forgot!" she said, her eyes wide with playful shock.
Amira frowned. "What happened?"
"I never introduced myself to Roohi!" Tara said, grinning mischievously before turning to Roohi with a bright smile. "I'm Tara Roy. Nice to meet you, sis!"
Roohi smiled shyly, but before she could say anything, Tara mock-glared at her. "Wait a second! My mom gets a hug, and I only get a smile? Come on, give your sister a hug!" Tara pulled Roohi into a warm side hug, making Roohi smile more openly.
Amira let out an exaggerated sigh, shaking her head at Tara's antics.
"My mom just told you that you're her daughter, so that makes you my sister," Tara continued, excited. "Which means-lots of hugs!" Roohi couldn't help but laugh softly at Tara's enthusiasm.
Just then, Rajvijay, who had been quietly listening from behind them, stepped forward, catching Roohi's eye. She looked at him with confusion, unsure who he was.
Rajvijay raised his eyebrows with a warm smile. "I'm your new mother's husband," he said, earning a glare from Amira, who lightly hit his arm.
"Roohi beta, this is my husband, Rajvijay," Amira clarified, smiling at Roohi, who nodded, finally understanding.
"Tara, take Roohi to the guest room so she can rest," Amira instructed with a gentle smile. "She must be exhausted."
Tara nodded and helped Roohi to her feet. "Come on, let's get you freshened up," she said, guiding her toward the room. As they walked away, Rajvijay affectionately patted Roohi's head, offering his silent support.
"I'll cook something for you both," Amira called out, her warm smile never fading, as she watched them disappear down the hallway. Tara nodded in agreement, continuing to lead Roohi to the room, making sure she felt safe and at ease in their home.
Abhimanyu leaned forward in his seat, elbows resting on his knees, his fingers rubbing at his temples as the weight of their discussion grew heavier. The flicker of frustration crossed his otherwise composed face as his eyes darted to Ekansh, who had been silent but steadily drinking. The clink of the glass against the table as Ekansh refilled it was the only sound that broke the tension. Aavyan, sitting next to Abhimanyu, exchanged a glance with Arnav, who leaned back against the couch, his arms crossed, his gaze narrowing as he observed Ekansh's every move.
"Ekansh," Abhimanyu's voice cut through the stillness, low and commanding, a tone reserved for when he'd had enough. Ekansh, halfway through lifting his glass to his lips, paused, his head tilting lazily toward Abhimanyu. A slow, sloppy grin tugged at the corners of his mouth.
"Bhai..." Ekansh slurred, the word dripping with a mixture of amusement and the effects of the alcohol that clearly had him in its grip. Abhimanyu sighed deeply, rubbing his temples, his patience wearing thin. He exchanged a weary glance with Aavyan, knowing this conversation wouldn't lead anywhere productive.
"I should head to the office," Ekansh mumbled, suddenly trying to rise, his legs unsteady beneath him. Aavyan, quick to react, reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling him back down onto the couch with a firm grip.
"Sit down, Bhai. It's already evening," Aavyan's voice was sharp, a hint of irritation slipping through as he forced Ekansh to stay seated. His eyes scanned his brother's face, trying to gauge how far gone he was, but it was clear from the way Ekansh's head lolled back that he was far from sober.
"Where am I?" Ekansh asked, a lazy smile creeping across his face as he blinked slowly, his unfocused eyes scanning the room as if he truly didn't know. The sight only further irritated Arnav, who had been biting his tongue in frustration.
"In hell," Arnav muttered under his breath, his voice laced with bitterness as he tore his gaze away from Ekansh. His jaw clenched, and he folded his arms tighter, refusing to engage further. Aavyan stifled a laugh, his lips twitching as he watched Arnav's barely-contained temper.
Ekansh, catching the remark, chuckled darkly, his smile widening.
"That might be true... since you're here," he shot back, his words dripping with drunken sarcasm. He slumped deeper into the couch, looking far too pleased with himself. Arnav's fists curled, his knuckles turning white as he held himself back from responding. The air in the room grew thick with tension, but Aavyan, unable to hold back any longer, let out a laugh, the sound breaking through the heavy silence.
"What's wrong with him?" Arnav growled, his patience snapping as he turned to Abhimanyu, his eyes blazing with frustration. "We don't have time for this."
Abhimanyu let out a long, exasperated sigh, his gaze sliding back to Ekansh, who was now grinning to himself, seemingly amused by his own chaos. "I told you, we're in hell," he muttered, his voice heavy with sarcasm and fatigue. Aavyan chuckled again, shaking his head in disbelief at the absurdity of the situation.
"This is getting us nowhere," Arnav said sharply, rising from the couch with a swift movement. He grabbed his coat from the armrest, his expression hardening as his mind drifted to Arthi. The thought of being away from her all day weighed on him, pulling him away from the chaos of the penthouse. He hadn't seen her since morning, and the longer he stayed here, the more restless he became.
"Where are you going?" Abhimanyu's voice cut through Arnav's thoughts, his tone sharp and impatient. He didn't like loose ends, and right now, everything felt unresolved.
"I'm heading back to the mansion. I'll handle things tomorrow," Arnav replied coolly, slipping his arms into his coat. "I've already got leads on the camera incident. A few more steps, and we'll have the proof we need."
Ekansh's voice suddenly cut through the room, his tone lighter, mocking. "Leaving so soon? What could be more important than sitting here, drinking with your brothers?" His drunken grin widened, his glass raising in a half-hearted toast to the absurdity of the night.
Abhimanyu shot Ekansh a tired look, rubbing a hand over his face. "We're married, Ekansh. Unlike you, we're not free from the 'idiotic thing' called marriage." His voice was edged with bitterness, his thoughts drifting momentarily to Misha. Her presence, her words from earlier, lingered in the back of his mind. He wasn't ready to admit how much they affected him. Ekansh chuckled at the remark, his laughter low and humorless.
"Who said I'm not married?" Ekansh's voice dropped, his grin fading as something more serious flickered across his face. The room stilled, and the tension snapped tight as his words hung in the air.
"What the hell are you talking about?" Arnav turned back, his bsmileurrowing in confusion. Abhimanyu straightened, his sharp eyes narrowing as they fixed on Ekansh, who was now staring down at his half-empty glass, his expression darkening.
"You didn't know?" Ekansh murmured, the laughter gone from his voice, replaced by a slurred, almost sad tone. "I'm married." He swirled the glass, staring into the liquid as if searching for answers, his words barely audible but enough to send a shock through the room.
"Ekansh, you're drunk. You need to stop talking nonsense," Abhiamnyu snapped, his voice hard and commanding, trying to shake some sense into his brother. But Ekansh wasn't listening. His gaze was distant, his thoughts clearly somewhere else.
"I left her... in the middle of the road, I am such a terrible husband," Ekansh whispered, his voice cracking slightly, the sorrow in his tone catching his brothers off guard. He blinked slowly, his face contorting into a grimace of guilt before he slumped back into the cushions.
"I will leave?" Ekansh mumbled, more to himself than to anyone else, his words slurring into incoherence. His brothers exchanged uneasy glances, unsure of how to respond. Aavyan's grip tightened on Ekansh's arm, pulling him back as he tried to rise again.
"Ekansh Bhai, stop it. You're drunk," Aavyan said firmly, pushing him back onto the sofa with a frustrated huff. Ekansh's eyes fluttered shut, his body finally giving in to the alcohol as he slumped deeper into the couch, his breathing evening out.
"What the hell is he talking about?" Aavyan muttered, his eyes wide as he glanced between Arnav and Abhimanyu, both of whom looked equally bewildered.
"He's drunk," Abhimanyu said with a tired shake of his head. "Just leave him. We'll figure this out when he's sober." He stood up, adjusting his coat, the weight of the night finally taking its toll.
"He's gone mad. Pour some water on him before he causes more trouble," Arnav said sharply, his tone strict. With a sigh of frustration,
Arnav gave one last irritated look at Ekansh before storming out, clearly done with the madness of the evening.
Arnav walked into the mansion and immediately spotted Arthi heading toward their room, a bundle of clothes in her hands. As she ascended the stairs, he smiled and followed, his long strides bringing him quickly behind her.
Arnav paused at the doorway, watching as Arthi moved towards the closet, likely to put away the clothes. Once finished, she noticed the scattered files on the nightstand. Muttering something under her breath, she approached the mess to organize it. Just as she sat down to arrange the papers, she turned, startled to find Arnav standing right behind her, one eyebrow raised.
She instinctively took a step back, but with the nightstand right behind her, Arnav swiftly wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer.
"Careful, sweetheart. You're going to give me a heart attack," he teased with a playful smile, one hand still casually tucked in his pocket. As he pulled his hand out from pocket, and he gently tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear, moving with such deliberate care, as if the task was of the utmost importance.
Arthi's heartbeat quickened under his touch, her initial shock replaced by a nervous flutter. Arnav's gaze stayed on her, his eyes soft but intense. After a moment, he sighed and searched her face for a reaction. Flustered, Arthi avoided his gaze, looking everywhere but at him.
"Did you miss me?" Arnav's voice was low and husky, making her breath hitch. Her lips parted to respond, but she hesitated, shaking her head slightly.
"I didn't," she managed to whisper, though her tone betrayed her. She didn't want him to know she had been waiting for him. It wasn't fear exactly-more like confusion. His presence made her feel vulnerable in a way she couldn't quite explain. What if she liked him? And worse, what if he didn't feel the same? These thoughts raced through her mind, leaving her unsettled.
"You didn't?" Arnav echoed, feigning shock as his eyes widened. "I am hurt, Oh, my poor heart!" He placed a hand dramatically over his chest, his expression morphing into one of exaggerated hurt.
Arthi's guilt was immediate. "No, no! I did miss you!" she blurted out, her tone suddenly earnest. Her eyes softened with concern as she watched him pretend to be wounded, completely unaware that he was just teasing her.
Arnav smirked at her sudden change in demeanor and stepped closer, lowering himself to her height. She instinctively grasped the hem of her saree, swallowing nervously as the space between them closed.
"You should have called me then," he murmured with a playful frown. "I would've talked to you all day."
Arthi glanced away, embarrassed as she recalled the obvious reason. "I... I don't have a phone," she admitted softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Arnav blinked, tilting his head slightly. "Sweetheart, why didn't you tell me earlier?" he exclaimed, feigning surprise. Arthi hesitated, unsure how to respond.
"No worries," Arnav said confidently, waving away her hesitation. "We'll get you one soon." He smiled mischievously. "It's for my own benefit anyway," he added with a chuckle before walking over to the bed and sitting down.
Patting the space next to him, he beckoned her over. "Come on, let's talk about our day," he said, his voice taking on a casual, teasing edge as he looked at her expectantly.
Blushing, Arthi approached the bed and sat beside him, her hands neatly folded in her lap as she avoided eye contact.
"Ladies first," Arnav prompted with a soft grin. "Tell me everything."
Taking a deep breath, Arthi began to recount her day. "I woke up, got freshened up..." she started, her voice trailing off slightly as she glanced at him. Initially, she was hesitant, unsure of how much he actually wanted to hear. But as she spoke, she noticed how intently he was listening, hanging on to every word. His attentive gaze emboldened her, and soon she was talking freely, her hands gesturing animatedly as she described her day in detail.
Arnav observed her with a faint smile, finding her openness endearing. She had started off shy and hesitant, but now she was laughing, frowning, smiling-her emotions on full display. "She can talk,"he thought to himself, amused. "Not just talk... she could talk all day, and I could listen all day". Her excitement bubbling over. It was like watching a different side of her, one he could happily listen to for hours.
As Arthi animatedly described her routine, she paused mid-sentence, wide-eyed.
"Then I came to collect the clothes, and you came and held me and..." Her words trailed off, realizing she had been rambling for quite some time."I-I'm sorry," she stammered, her wide eyes filled with embarrassment. "I didn't mean to talk so much."
Arnav reached for her hand, gently taking it in his and pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles.
"Your day sounded wonderful," he said with sincerity, his soft smile deepening as her heartbeat quickened again. Her heart skipped a beat-she had never talked this much before, and certainly never had someone so interested in listening to her.
Feeling a bit flustered, Arthi gathered her courage and asked, "What about you? How was your day?" Her voice was soft, hesitant, as if she wasn't sure how to phrase the question.
Arnav's smile deepened, and without hesitation, he replied warmly,
"It was you." His gaze never left her face, and Arthi's brows furrowed slightly, confusion flickering in her eyes.
"I'll go freshen up," Arnav said after a brief pause, standing up. Before leaving, he bent down to her level and gently kissed her forehead, a gesture so tender that it left Arthi momentarily stunned. She watched him walk away, a small pout forming on her lips as he disappeared from sight.
Arnav, catching her expression in the mirror, couldn't help but smirk to himself. As he headed into the bathroom, he muttered under his breath,
"This is going to be the best part of my life." With a light sigh, he shut the door, his heart feeling unexpectedly lighter than it had in a long time.
Abhimanyu arrived home at one in the night, exhausted from the day. He was about to climb the stairs when his eyes caught sight of Misha standing near the dining table. His brow furrowed in confusion as he slowly made his way toward her. What could she possibly be doing at this hour?
"What are you doing? It's already one in the night," Abhimanyu's voice carried a sharp edge as he frowned, his gaze fixed on her. Misha, however, stood still, her face devoid of expression, as if drained of emotion.
"I was waiting for you," she replied softly, her voice hollow, her eyes distant. Abhimanyu blinked, momentarily taken aback by her words, unsure how to react.
"What did you say? Why were you waiting for me?" he asked, his voice tinged with confusion, his mind racing to make sense of her response. Misha let out a quiet sigh, looking away for a moment.
"I was waiting for you, as.........." she began, her voice trailing off.
"Oh, I almost forgot," Abhimanyu interrupted with a slight click of his tongue, annoyance flickering across his face.
"You didnât have to wait this late. You couldâve managed somehow," he said, his frown deepening. He hated the thought of her staying awake because of his own selfishness-this wasnât fair to her. He had asked her to act in front of his grandmother, but it shouldnât come at the cost of her well-being.
"But⦠Dadi Ma must have been asleep long ago. You shouldâve gone to bed instead of waiting for me," his tone softened, a hint of regret seeping through as his eyes briefly reflected his guilt. Misha noticed it-the regret. It was not what she had been hoping to see in him, perhaps even a smile, something that acknowledged her effort.
Suddenly, Misha reached out and grabbed his hand, startling him. His eyes widened, confusion swirling in them as she led him to the dining table without a word. Abhimanyu's brow knitted as he sat down, his gaze following her movements. She quietly served the food and sat across from him, her eyes watching his every move, silently urging him to eat.
With a resigned sigh, Abhimanyu picked up his spoon and began to eat, savoring the home-cooked meal. He hadn't planned on eating tonight, but the warm food melted some of the tension away. Yet, as he ate, Mishaâs eyes searched his face for any hint of emotion-a smile, some form of recognition for her efforts. She had stayed up all night, cooked for him, and waited. Surely, that deserved something, didn't it?
But her husband ate in silence, his focus entirely on the meal. Misha's fists clenched beneath the table as anger surged within her. He didnât even bother to ask if she had eaten. He didnât care. She had planned to share this meal with him, thinking they might talk, thinking he might notice her. But no. He ate, oblivious to her presence, like an idiot, not sparing her even a glance.
The moment he finished, Misha stood abruptly, her chest heaving with anger. She couldnât bear it any longer. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but her rage consumed her too much to let them fall. Without a word, she stormed off towards the bedroom, her footsteps echoing with fury.
Abhimanyu barely had time to process what had happened. He had finished his meal and was about to say something to Misha, but before he could, she was already gone. Frowning, he muttered to himself,
"Whatâs gotten into her? Wasnât she waiting for me?"
He shook his head, perplexed by her sudden departure. "She didn't even told, why she was waiting for me, Strange wife," he muttered under his breath in disbelief, before making his way upstairs to the bedroom.
Once inside, he found Misha already in bed, facing away from him, her back tense. Letting out a long sigh, he headed into the closet, quickly changing into more comfortable clothes. When he returned, he noticed she hadnât moved, her breathing heavy but not quite peaceful. Abhimanyu stared for a moment, contemplating whether to wake her. He had meant to ask her who had cooked the meal-it had been so good-but now, seeing her like this, he hesitated.
"She must be asleep," he thought to himself, letting out a quiet sigh. "Iâll ask tomorrow." He settled into bed beside her, his mind easing as the fatigue finally hit him.
But Misha was not asleep. Her fists remained clenched under the sheets, her heart pounding in her chest, her tears threatening to spill over as her mind warred with itself. This wasnât what she had wanted. She wasnât asking for much, just a sign that he cared, something more than silence.