19. Behind Closed Doors

Author's POV

Ishika, Aunt Kavita, and Sakshi were the only ones left at the entrance as the other ladies had already dispersed. Suddenly, the purr of an engine drew their attention, and a sleek car pulled up in front of them. Sahil stepped out, his expression dark and unreadable. Ishika's heart stuttered. After their divorce filling, it was the first time they met again. She hadn't expected him back.

Before she could react, Sahil's eyes found hers. In an instant, he strode over, gripping her hand with a force that made her wince. "Sahil, what-" she started, trying to pull away, but his hold tightened. Aunt Kavita, sensing the tension, quickly spoke up. "Oh, you're back from your trip already?" she called out, her tone forcedly cheerful.

Sahil's jaw tightened, and he gave a curt nod without so much as a glance in her direction. Without another word, he tugged Ishika towards the car and pushed her into the passenger seat. The slam of the door echoed in her ears as he rounded the front and got into the driver's seat.

It was then that Ishika noticed something unusual-there was no driver. Sahil, who almost never drove himself, was gripping the steering wheel with a tension that made his knuckles pale. In her impression, he always had his assistant, Rajat driving him around while he sat in the backseat like a king.

A shiver ran down her spine as he started the car and pulled away from the entrance. The silence inside was suffocating, filled only by the soft hum of the engine. Ishika's mind raced, unable to make sense of his sudden return or the storm that seemed to be brewing in his eyes.

After the couple left, Kavita glanced at her daughter, Sakshi, who responded with an 'I don't know anything' expression.

*****

Sahil wore a grim expression, and his aura was overbearing. As she was sitting beside him, she felt a piercing gaze coming from the driver seat. Indeed, Sahil was glaring at her. The silence weighed heavy in the car, thick with questions she didn't dare to voice. Sahil's unexpected presence felt intrusive, unsettling. He'd never picked her up before, not once in all these years. So why now? Why today?

Her mind raced, each unasked question churning her thoughts into a dizzying whirl. She tried to read his expression in the brief flickers of streetlights that swept over his face, but his gaze was fixed, unyielding, staring straight ahead. She forced herself to look away, fixing her eyes on the city streaming past outside the window. She wanted to lose herself in the blur of passing lights, to calm the storm inside her.

But no matter how hard she tried, her heart wouldn't settle. The car seemed to close in around her, the air too thick, too silent. The feeling gnawed at her, some unspoken tension pressing down between them. And for the first time, she found herself truly afraid-afraid of the answers waiting in that silence.

After what felt like an eternity, they finally arrived at the mansion. As soon as the car came to a stop, Ishika rushed out, determined to put as much distance as possible between herself and him. Her heart was racing, not from the journey, but from the memories that were still raw and aching, cutting deeper with every heartbeat. She dashed into the washroom, closing the door behind her as though it could keep all the hurt and betrayal at bay. She took a shaky breath, staring into the mirror, as if hoping it could somehow reflect a version of herself untouched by his lies.

When she finally emerged, her eyes scanned the room, relieved to find it empty. She placed a hand on her chest, exhaling slowly, her shoulders relaxing just slightly. She didn't want to face him-couldn't bear to, not when the scars of his betrayal were still so fresh. The two years of lies, of feeling cherished only to discover she'd been used, came crashing back with brutal clarity.

But she wouldn't let him see her pain. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing how deeply he'd hurt her. Ishika knew one thing with fierce resolve: she would never speak of his lies, never question him about the deceit, because he was nothing to her now. People questioned those they cared about, sought answers from those who held some importance in their lives. But he had lost that place in her heart; only bitterness and anger remained, her love withered into something dark and unforgiving.

With quiet determination, she walked to the sofa, laying out the sheets to make her bed. She would sleep here, as far from him as the room allowed. As she adjusted the pillows, the sound of the door unlocking pierced the silence, and her hands stilled. She clenched her jaw, refusing to look at him, her fingers trembling slightly as she pretended to be engrossed in smoothing the sheets. She heard his footsteps draw closer, felt his presence heavy in the room. But she kept her eyes on her task, ignoring him as if he were nothing more than a ghost of a memory she'd long since buried.

Sahil stood beside the sofa, his figure looming over her, eyes cold and accusing. She glanced up, already irritated by his silence and his intense gaze. "What's wrong with you?" she snapped, trying to mask the unease creeping over her.

Without a word, he tossed his phone onto the sofa in front of her. She looked down, and the sight on the screen made her blood run cold-a photo of her and Dhruv from that evening. In the image, they looked closer than they actually were, framed in a way that suggested something far more intimate. Whoever took this shot had chosen the perfect angle to twist the truth, making it look as though she were completely absorbed in Dhruv's presence.

Her heart pounded, and a sickening realization settled over her. Someone was trying to defame her, to make her look guilty. But how had this even ended up on Sahil's phone?

Before she could gather her thoughts, she noticed the steely darkness in Sahil's eyes, his lips pressed into a thin line of anger and disdain. She quickly tried to explain, her voice wavering slightly. "Listen, it's not what it looks like. He was the one bothering me."

Sahil scoffed, crossing his arms as he glared down at her. "Bothering you? Funny, because these photos tell a different story." He sneered, his tone dripping with bitterness. "You look pretty comfortable with him, Ishika. Almost like you're enjoying it."

His words hit her like a slap, and she forced herself to hold his gaze. "This is ridiculous! You can't believe I'd-" She stopped, her voice shaking as her frustration mounted. "Someone's trying to twist this, Sahil. I don't even know about him."

"Right. Convenient excuse," he muttered, the anger in his voice barely contained. His eyes hardened, an unspoken accusation hanging between them. "You'd say anything to save your face right now, wouldn't you?"

The words stung, but she swallowed back her frustration, a fire sparking in her own eyes. "And you'd believe anything that makes me look guilty, wouldn't you?" She stood her ground, determined not to let him see the hurt beneath her defiance. "Maybe you should ask yourself why you're so quick to assume the worst of me, Sahil."

For a moment, silence filled the room, tension crackling between them, both refusing to back down, each wounded in their own way.

In a flash, Sahil closed the distance between them, his grip tightening around her arms as he pulled her to him. She barely had a moment to react, her breath catching as his cold hands held her firmly in place, trapping her against his chest. His face was inches from hers, his gaze dark and fierce, and a chill ran down her spine. For a moment, she felt a flicker of real fear-his grip was unyielding, as though he wouldn't let her go, wouldn't let her escape his wrath.

His voice, low and harsh, cut through the silence. "You think I'm a fool, Ishika?"

__________________________________________

End of the chapter.

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