[24]

Dehradun...

Vaani parked her car in the expansive driveway of the mansion, her mind preoccupied with the mysterious room Rishit frequented. The air was thick with an unshakable tension, her instincts urging her to uncover the secrets concealed within those walls.

Her steps were hesitant yet determined as she approached the room. She recalled the pin Rishit had entered earlier, the sequence engraved in her memory. Without pausing to reconsider, she punched in the code. The soft click of the lock echoed in the stillness, granting her entry.

The room was engulfed in darkness, its silence almost foreboding. With trembling hands, Vaani fumbled for the light switch. As the glow flooded the room, the sight before her made her heart plummet, shattering into a million irreparable shards.

The space was a shrine, a universe devoted entirely to Nandini. The walls were adorned with her photographs, each frame capturing her essence with unsettling perfection. Large boxes were neatly stacked in one corner, while elegant cupboards stood along the wall. But the centerpiece was an imposing portrait of Nandini draped in a vibrant red saree, her name scripted below in ornate lettering: Nandini Mathur.

The weight of realization struck Vaani like a tidal wave, and she whispered the name aloud, her voice laced with disbelief and agony. "Nandini Mathur," she uttered, her lips trembling.

She turned her attention to the meticulously preserved belongings. Shelves brimmed with books, their spines pristine as though untouched by time. In the boxes and cupboards lay clothes and exquisite jewelry, each piece seemingly untouched, each item a relic of a life lovingly protected.

Every detail deepened the ache in her chest. Tears welled in her eyes, cascading silently down her cheeks as she absorbed the devastating reality. Her gaze landed on the wall where countless photographs of Rishit and Nandini hung, chronicling their story.

In every picture, they were entwined—holding hands, embracing, or caught in candid moments. Rishit's smile in those photographs was radiant, a smile so genuine and unrestrained that it pierced Vaani’s heart. She had never seen him smile like that, not with her.

"Do he love someone else?" Vaani's voice cracked, the words barely escaping her trembling lips. Her tone was raw, an unfiltered outpouring of pain and confusion.

Images from their time together surged through her mind—the distance he maintained, their strained interactions on their wedding night, the aloofness the morning after the reception, and the subtle discomfort that lingered in their shared moments. It all began to make sense, every piece of the puzzle falling into place with cruel clarity.

Sobs wracked her body as she crouched to inspect the boxes. They were filled with dresses, their delicate fabrics preserved with care, and jewelry that glittered with an elegance Vaani found haunting. Then her eyes caught a single box secured with a lock, a detail that stood out amidst the openness of everything else.

"Baaki sab toh khula hai, par yeh lock hai... kyun?" she murmured to herself, her voice choked with fresh tears as she wiped her cheeks.

Her gaze then shifted to a photograph on the table. It depicted Rishit and Nandini surrounded by children, their expressions radiant with joy.

"It was Nandini’s NGO," Vaani whispered, her voice quivering as another shard of truth plunged into her heart.

The enormity of what she had uncovered threatened to suffocate her. Without sparing another glance at the room, she stumbled out, her feet carrying her to her own room in a daze. The tears did not stop, each drop a testament to the shattering of her dreams, the unveiling of a truth she was unprepared to face.

Vaani entered her room, her face streaked with tears, her breath hitching as she struggled to contain the storm of emotions raging within her. She collapsed onto the floor beside her bed, her entire body trembling with anguish. Her gaze landed on a photograph of Rishit resting on the side table.

With trembling hands, she picked it up, her fingers brushing against the frame as though seeking solace. Her voice, raw and broken, escaped her lips in a whisper, “Jab mohabbat kisi aur se thi to phir mere saath iss bandhan mein kyu bandhe?”

Her words echoed in the empty room, a reflection of the void in her heart. She continued, her voice quivering under the weight of her despair, “Pehle hi mana kar dete na... it hurts, Rishit. It hurts when the person you love, loves someone else.”

Her tears flowed unbidden, her heartbreak pouring out as she clutched the photo to her chest. “Jab aapki mohabbat ko kisi aur se ishq ho, toh yeh dil laakhon hisson mein toot jata hai,” she murmured, her voice trembling as she pressed her face against the cold glass of the frame.

Just then, the sound of her phone broke through the silence, jolting her. Wiping her tears hastily, she glanced at the screen. It was Vidhan. She inhaled deeply, trying to steady her voice before answering.

“Haan, bhai,” she said, attempting to sound normal, though the cracks in her tone were evident.

“Are you fine, Vaani?” Vidhan’s voice was laced with concern, piercing through her fragile composure.

Her façade crumbled. The tears that she had barely managed to hold back returned with a vengeance. “I am not, bhai,” she confessed, her voice trembling as the weight of her heartbreak poured out.

“Kya hua, Vaani?” Vidhan’s voice was gentle, yet firm, urging her to speak.

“He loves someone else, bhai... he doesn’t love me,” she admitted, her words barely coherent through her sobs.

There was a brief pause on the line before Vidhan spoke again, his tone cautious yet steady. “Are you sure, Vaani? Kyunki the girl you’re talking about… she died two years ago.”

The revelation struck Vaani like a thunderbolt. Her tears stopped momentarily, her breath catching in her throat. “What?” she whispered, her voice laced with disbelief and shock.

“Haan, Vaani,” Vidhan confirmed with a heavy sigh, the weight of his words hanging between them.

“Aapko Vidhi ne bataya?” Vaani asked, her voice trembling as she sought clarity.

Vidhan hummed in affirmation.

“But he still loves her, bhai,” Vaani said, her tone morphing into a broken cry.

“Kya Rishit ne aisa kaha?” Vidhan questioned gently.

“Nahi,” Vaani admitted, her voice small and uncertain.

“Phir tujhe kaise pata chala?” he asked, prompting Vaani to recount everything she had discovered in the room.

When she finished, Vidhan’s voice came through, calm yet thoughtful. “Aur isse yeh sabit ho gaya ki he still loves her? Vaani, hume yeh toh nahi pata na ki woh uss room mein kyun gaya tha.”

Vaani nodded to herself, silently acknowledging his point. “Phir?” she asked hesitantly, seeking guidance.

“Try to find out whether he still loves her or not,” Vidhan suggested, his voice steady, yet empathetic.

“Okay, bhai,” Vaani replied, her voice tinged with newfound determination.

As the call ended, she set the phone aside, her heart still heavy but her resolve strengthening. The answers she sought lay ahead, and she knew she had to face them, no matter how painful the truth might be.

"Is there any possibility that he loves me?" Vaani whispered into the silence, her voice barely audible, as if afraid of the answer. Her gaze lingered on the photograph of Rishit for a moment longer before she stood up, her movements slow and heavy.

She walked to the washroom to change, the weight of her emotions pressing down on her chest. As she slipped into her nightwear and settled into bed, her mind refused to quiet. The question repeated itself endlessly in her thoughts until exhaustion finally claimed her, and she drifted into an uneasy sleep.

******************

Singapore...

The morning sun illuminated the sprawling skyline as the flight landed at Singapore’s bustling Changi Airport at 8 a.m. Rishit and Kartik disembarked, their expressions tense but focused.

The pair quickly made their way to the hotel, where they freshened up before heading to the office to address the pressing issue that had disrupted their schedules.

Time passed in a blur of meetings, negotiations, and problem-solving. By the end of the second day, the conflict was resolved, the tension easing as they reviewed the successful outcomes of their efforts.

Despite the passing days, there had been no communication between Rishit and Vaani.

Rishit was consumed by work, his schedule leaving no room for personal matters. The few moments he had to himself were spent strategizing or catching up on much-needed rest.

Vaani, on the other hand, refrained from reaching out. Her heart was a battlefield of emotions, and her thoughts were too chaotic to put into words. Each time she reached for her phone, uncertainty stopped her. She told herself he was busy, but deep down, the unanswered questions about their relationship held her back.

And so, the silence lingered between them, stretching across time zones and growing heavier with each passing hour.

At night...

Rishit and Kartik were seated comfortably in Rishit’s hotel room, the day’s exhaustion evident on their faces. The quiet hum of the air conditioner filled the room, and Kartik was scrolling through his phone when Rishit’s phone buzzed on the table.

Rishit grabbed it quickly, a flicker of excitement crossing his face, only for it to vanish the moment he saw the caller ID. Maa.

Kartik, perceptive as ever, noticed the shift in Rishit’s expression but chose to remain silent, waiting for what would unfold.

Rishit hesitated for a moment before answering. Before he could say anything, a sharp, angry voice erupted from the other end.

“How dare you, Rishit? Tu Vaani ko akele chhod kar Singapore chala gaya?” Meera’s tone was scathing, her frustration palpable even through the call.

“Maa, woh kaam aa gaya tha,” Rishit replied, his voice defensive yet soft, attempting to pacify her anger.

“Bata kar toh jaana chahiye tha na!” Meera scolded, her brows furrowing, the image of her disappointment clear even without seeing her.

“I’m sorry, Maa,” Rishit said gently, his tone laced with guilt.

“Theek hai,” Meera sighed, her voice softening slightly. “Ab yeh bata ki wapas kab aa raha hai?”

“Kal aa raha hoon,” Rishit informed her.

“Okay,” Meera said curtly before disconnecting the call without another word.

The moment Rishit set the phone down, Kartik leaned forward, his curiosity piqued. “Tu bhabhi ko miss kar raha hai kya, Rishit?” His tone was serious, though his eyes held a hint of teasing.

Rishit’s expression remained unreadable as he stared at the floor, the weight of his emotions pressing heavily on him. “Kartik, tujhe pata hai... main apni life mein Nandini ki jagah kisi ko nahi de sakta,” he began, his voice steady but tinged with a quiet sadness.

“Rish—” Kartik started, but Rishit cut him off, his gaze still fixed on the floor.

“But... pata nahi kyun is dil mein Vaani ke liye ek alag jagah ban rahi hai,” he admitted, his voice soft but honest, the words surprising even himself.

A slow, knowing smile spread across Kartik’s face. “I don’t know why, but it’s the reality,” Rishit added, a faint smile finally breaking through his otherwise solemn demeanor.

Without a word, Kartik sprang up and pulled him into a tight hug, his excitement bubbling over. “Hayee, mere bhai ko phir se pyaar ho gaya!” he exclaimed, his tone brimming with joy.

Rishit chuckled softly at Kartik’s reaction, a small but genuine smile lingering on his face. Though he didn’t say anything more, the warmth in his chest spoke volumes—a warmth he hadn’t felt in a long time.

*****************

Bangalore...

Two days had passed, and the dynamic between Ved and Aarohi remained unchanged. Aarohi continued to admire him from afar, her gaze following him almost instinctively, while Ved, stubborn as ever, made a deliberate effort to ignore her.

They were in the classroom, and Aarohi’s eyes were fixed on Ved once again, her thoughts consumed by him.

Ved, however, was growing increasingly restless. "It’s enough now. I need to confront her," he thought, the tension building within him.

When the lecture ended, the students began filing out of the classroom. Ved, lingering behind, approached Aarohi’s bench discreetly and placed a letter on it before quickly walking away with Vidhi.

Aarohi and her friend Amrita noticed the gesture, and a smile spread across both their faces. Aarohi’s heart raced as she picked up the letter and unfolded it with trembling hands.

"Meet me at the XYZ café this evening at 6 pm," she read aloud, her voice tinged with both surprise and excitement.

"Oh God, he wants to meet me!" Aarohi exclaimed, clutching the letter to her chest before pulling Amrita into a tight hug.

In the evening...

The café was abuzz with activity, yet Aarohi’s world felt still as she waited nervously at a table, her eyes darting to the entrance every few seconds. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw Ved walk in. He approached her table and sat down across from her without a word.

Before Aarohi could say anything, Ved fixed her with a serious gaze. "Why do you look at me like that?" he asked abruptly, his tone firm and direct.

Aarohi blinked, startled by his question. "What?" she asked, confusion flickering across her face.

"Answer my question," Ved insisted, his voice steady, his expression unreadable.

Aarohi exhaled heavily, summoning all her courage. "Because I love you," she confessed, her voice soft but resolute, her gaze unwavering despite the nervous flutter in her chest.

Ved’s reaction was immediate. He shot up from his seat, his chair scraping loudly against the floor, and without another word, he walked out of the café.

Aarohi stared after him, her heart sinking. "Bas ye puchne ke liye mujhe yahan bulaya tha? He is unbelievable," she muttered, leaning back in her chair with a sigh.

Shaking her head, she added, "Ab pata nahi kya hoga." Gathering her things, she left the café, her emotions a tumultuous mix of frustration, sadness, and hope.

Meanwhile...

Ved was back in his room, pacing restlessly. His mind replayed Aarohi’s confession on a loop, and his heart wouldn’t stop its relentless thumping.

"Why was my heart beating so fast when she confessed?" he muttered to himself, his voice laced with confusion and irritation.

He paused, placing a hand over his chest as if to scold it. "No, no. You can’t beat so fast," he said, his voice firm but tinged with panic, as if reprimanding his own emotions.

Desperate to calm the storm within him, Ved grabbed a towel and headed for the shower, hoping the cold water would wash away his turmoil. Later, he lay in bed, forcing himself to sleep as a distraction.

Outside his room, Vidhan and Vidhi stood by the doorframe, watching him quietly. They exchanged a knowing look before shaking their heads in silent amusement, their expressions a mix of sympathy and understanding.

____________________________________________________________________________

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