92. Give a chance!

●・○・●・○・●

The morning sun filtered through the large windows of Raghuwanshi Palace, casting a warm golden hue over the dining hall.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and warm parathas filled the air as the family gathered for breakfast.

The usual chatter and clinking of cutlery filled the space, but there was an unsettling tension hovering in the air.

Aarush sat in his usual place, his plate untouched. He didn’t engage in the morning pleasantries, nor did he meet anyone’s gaze.

His fingers tapped rhythmically against the table, his head bowed slightly.

His face was blank, but his eyes—if anyone had bothered to look closely—were stormy, burning with something dark and volatile.

Across from him, Mahima ate her breakfast as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

Her movements were precise, composed, her expression neutral. It was the very picture of normalcy, yet to Aarush, it was infuriating.

The minutes dragged on, and his silence began to attract attention. Aaryansh, seated beside him, nudged him lightly.

“You okay?” he asked.

Aarush didn’t respond. He continued staring at his plate, lost in his own thoughts.

The nightmarish images of Mahira, covered in blood, her fragile body trembling with fear, haunted his mind. His fingers twitched, resisting the urge to clench into fists.

Ishika spoke up. “Aarush, why aren’t you eating?”

At that moment, something inside him snapped.

slam!

His hand slammed down on the table, the force making the glasses and plates tremble. Everyone turned to him in shock.

Mahima, unfazed, merely lifted her eyes to him. “What’s your problem?”

Aarush let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. His chest rose and fell with barely contained rage.

“My problem?” His voice was eerily calm, but the anger behind it was unmistakable.

“My problem is that you’re sitting here, eating peacefully, as if nothing happened.” His sharp gaze bore into Mahima, accusing, furious.

A tense silence stretched across the room. The others exchanged worried glances.

“What are you talking about?” Ishwar asked cautiously.

Aarush ignored him, his eyes still locked on Mahima. “How can you sit here so calmly?” His voice grew louder, harsher. “Doing your work, carrying on with your perfect life, while your own sister—”

He stopped, exhaling sharply. His hands clenched into fists. He hadn’t meant to say that.

But it was too late.

A wave of concern swept over the family.

“What happened to Mahira?” Rudraksh demanded.

Aarush didn’t answer. His jaw was clenched so tightly it hurt.

“Aarush,” Amrita’s voice was softer now, cautious, but firm. “Tell us. What happened to Mahira?”

Aarush exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. He hadn’t planned on telling them. He had promised himself he wouldn’t.

But the sheer indifference from Mahima—her cold, detached demeanor—had pushed him over the edge.

He looked around the table, at the faces of the people who were supposed to be Mahira’s family.

They all looked concerned, anxious. All except Mahima. She merely watched him, her expression unreadable.

He scoffed. “Why do you all suddenly care?”

“Aarush,” Geeta started, but he cut her off.

“No, really. Why do you care now? Where was all this concern when she needed you?” His voice was laced with bitterness. “Or does your love for her only exist when it’s convenient?”

The atmosphere in the room grew heavier. No one spoke.

Mahima sighed, setting her spoon down with deliberate slowness. “Enough with the theatrics, Aarush,” she said. “If something happened to Mahira, just say it instead of throwing accusations.”

Aarush let out a hollow laugh. “You really don’t care, do you?” He shook his head in disbelief. “You never cared.”

Mahima’s eyes darkened. “Don’t act like you know everything about me.”

Aarush’s temper flared again. “I don’t want to know anything about someone who can be so heartless toward her own sister.”

He pushed his chair back abruptly, the sound screeching against the marble floor.

“I don’t want to be in a house where the wrong is protected and the right is left to suffer alone.” His voice was colder now, sharper.

He turned to the rest of the family, his eyes filled with something close to disappointment. “And I never want to see someone who can sit here like nothing happened while her sister—”

He stopped himself just in time. He had already said too much.

The worry in everyone’s eyes deepened.

“Aarush, what happened to Mahira?” Aaryansh pressed, his voice urgent now.

Aarush exhaled heavily. His hands trembled, his nails digging into his palms. His heart pounded painfully in his chest.

“Why don't you find out yourself?”

With that, he stormed out of the dining hall, leaving behind a stunned silence and a room full of unanswered questions.

●・○・●・○・●

Aarush’s retreating footsteps echoed through the hall, leaving behind a silence so thick it was suffocating.

His storming out had shaken everyone at the table. The clinking of plates, the casual morning chatter—all of it had been replaced with an eerie stillness.

Then, it began.

Soft whispers, hushed conversations, stolen glances.

“What do you think happened?”

“Why is Aarush so furious?”

“And Mahira… what could have possibly happened to her?”

Worry lined every face. Even the ones who had always remained distant from Mahira couldn’t ignore the way Aarush had just exploded.

If it was enough to make him react this way, then it had to be serious.

Mahima sat frozen, gripping her fork so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

The whispers, the looks, the concern—it was all directed toward her sister. The same sister who had turned her world upside down.

She felt something sharp twist inside her chest, her breathing becoming uneven.

More whispers. More worried murmurs.

And then, she snapped.

“Why do you all care?”

Her voice was sharp, cutting through the murmurs like a knife. The entire room stilled as every pair of eyes turned to her.

She pushed her chair back, the sound screeching against the floor, and stood up abruptly.

Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her body shaking with a mix of anger and something deeper—something she refused to name.

“Why are you all suddenly so concerned about her?” she spat, her voice laced with bitterness.

Her eyes flickered with something dark, something dangerous. “Where was this care before? Where was all this worry when she was ruining everything?”

No one spoke.

Mahima laughed, but it was hollow, bitter. “You all act like she’s some fragile doll that needs protecting. Like she’s the victim here.”

Her voice wavered, but she continued. “But you don’t see what she’s done! She came into our lives and changed everything.”

Her eyes burned with unshed tears, but she refused to let them fall.

“She turned Aarush against us. Against me.” Her voice cracked slightly, but she covered it with anger. “Before she came, this house was happy! We were fine! But ever since she stepped foot in here, nothing has been the same!”

The weight of her words hung heavy in the air.

Daksh finally spoke, his voice calm yet firm. “Mahima, that’s not fair.”

Mahima’s head snapped toward him, her eyes ablaze. “Not fair?” She let out a humorless laugh.

“What’s not fair is how she’s painted as some helpless girl while I’m made out to be the villain!” She turned to the rest of the family, her gaze accusatory.

“All of you just let it happen! You stood by and let her take over, let her twist everything!”

A painful lump formed in her throat.

A single tear slipped from her eye, but she quickly wiped it away.

“I hate her,” she choked out. “I hate how she’s changed everything. And I hate that none of you see it.”

The room was silent.

She exhaled sharply, trying to steady herself, but her body was trembling. She couldn’t stay here. Not now.

Without another word, she turned on her heel and stormed out, her heart pounding painfully in her chest.

●・○・●・○・●

Daisy stood at the grand entrance of the Raghuwanshi palace, her head slightly bowed as Mahima stormed past her, rage burning in her eyes.

Daisy swallowed, her fingers tightening around the strap of her medical bag.

Daksh, who had been watching from the dining hall, noticed her presence and walked towards her. “Come in,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of curiosity.

The moment she stepped inside, the atmosphere felt thick with tension. Several pairs of eyes turned to her, questioning, wary.

Before anyone could ask, Daksh cleared his throat. “I called her for a check-up,” he announced.

Daisy nodded, confirming his words. “Yes, I’m here for a follow-up examination.”

Daksh glanced at Divya, who sat quietly, her hands resting on her lap. He nodded once before gesturing for Daisy to follow.

The three of them made their way to Divya’s room, where she settled on the bed, looking a little nervous.

Daksh remained outside as Daisy began her check-up. She worked efficiently, carefully examining Divya’s wounds.

“It’s healed well,” she noted, gently pressing around the once-injured area. “There’s no sign of infection. You’ve been taking care of it properly.”

Divya gave a small, relieved nod. “That’s good to hear.”

Daisy then met her gaze, her voice softer now. “Are you feeling any pain anywhere?”

Divya hesitated for a second before reaching up and lightly touching her lower lip. “It stings here,” she admitted, pointing to a cut.

Daisy inspected it closely before giving a reassuring smile. “It’s nothing serious. It should heal on its own in about two weeks, maybe sooner. Just avoid touching it too much, and don’t eat anything too spicy or acidic for a while.”

Divya nodded again, her shoulders relaxing slightly.

Once the check-up was complete, Daisy packed up her medical kit. Just as she was about to leave, her gaze flickered to the door, where Daksh stood waiting.

There was something in his expression—something unreadable. The tension from earlier still lingered in the air.

She forced a polite smile. “Everything is fine. Just keep an eye on the lip, and she should be completely healed soon.”

Daksh gave a short nod but said nothing.

As Daisy reached the door, Daksh's voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Doctor.”

She turned around slowly, her expression neutral. “Yes?”

Daksh studied her for a moment, his sharp eyes scanning her face as if trying to read her thoughts. “You work at M Care Hospital, don’t you?” he asked, his tone calm but firm.

Daisy nodded cautiously. “Yes, I do.”

His gaze darkened slightly. “Then you must know what happened to Mahira.”

The air in the room seemed to thicken. Divya, who had been silent, sat up a little straighter.

Daisy, however, remained composed. She met Daksh’s eyes without hesitation but didn’t answer right away. She could see the worry behind his calm façade, the silent demand for an answer.

But she had given her word.

With a soft sigh, she shook her head. “It’s better if you find out yourselves, Sire.”

Daksh frowned, not expecting such a cryptic response. “What do you mean by that?”

Daisy simply picked up her bag, adjusting the strap over her shoulder. “That’s all I can say,” she replied firmly.

Without waiting for another question, she turned on her heels and walked out, leaving the house heavy with unanswered questions.

Daksh clenched his jaw, his mind now racing with thoughts he wished he could ignore.

Something had happened to Mahira—something serious. And from the way Daisy refused to speak about it, it wasn’t just a minor thing.

He exchanged glances with Divya, who looked equally unsettled.

And for the first time in a long while, unease settled deep into his chest.

●・○・●・○・●

As the silence hung heavy over the dining hall, it was Ishwar who finally spoke, his deep voice breaking the tension.

“Rishi,” he said, his tone calm but firm, “Do you think you could talk to Mahima?”

All eyes turned to Rishi, who had been sitting quietly, observing everything without a word.

For a moment, he didn’t respond. His expression remained unreadable, his fingers lightly tapping against the edge of the table.

Then, without any rush, he stood up, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt. His movements were calm—too calm.

But there was a weight behind his posture, something heavy that no one else could quite understand.

“I’ll try to talk to her,” he said, his voice smooth but unwavering. “But let me make something clear to everyone here—” His gaze swept across the room, lingering on each face before finally settling back on Ishwar.

“Whatever happens… I will stay by Mahima’s side.” His words were deliberate, as if daring anyone to question them. “Because I love her. I love her more than anything else in this world.”

His voice softened, but the conviction in it only grew stronger. “Even if she’s wrong—even if the whole world turns against her—I’ll still choose her. Every. Single. Time.”

A few people exchanged glances, but no one dared to interrupt. The quiet strength in his voice made it clear—nothing and no one could change his loyalty.

“I won’t justify her actions if she’s at fault,” he continued, his tone still calm. “But I will stand beside her. Because that’s what love is. You don’t leave someone when they’re at their worst.”

With that, he gave a small nod toward Ishwar. “I’ll go see if Mahima will talk to me.”

And without another word, he turned and walked out, leaving the room heavy with the weight of both his promise—and his love for Mahima.

●・○・●・○・●

Rishi drove up the winding road leading to the hilltop, the air cool against his skin as he rolled down the window.

His hands tightened on the steering wheel as he thought about what had happened earlier at the Raghuwanshi palace.

Mahima had stormed out, and even though she had walked away from everyone, he couldn’t just let her be alone—not that day.

As the car came to a stop near the edge of the cliff, he spotted her.

Mahima sat on the rocky ground, her knees pulled up to her chest, arms wrapped around them as if she were trying to shield herself from the world.

The sunlight above twinkled, but she didn’t seem to be looking at it. She was staring below—at nothing, really—completely lost in her own thoughts.

Rishi stepped out of the car, his footsteps light on the gravel as he walked toward her.

He didn’t call out to her, didn’t ask if she was okay. He just sat down beside her, leaving a small space between them.

Silence stretched between them, only the sound of the wind rustling through the trees filling the air.

Finally, Mahima let out a small, bitter laugh. “You followed me all the way here?” Her voice was hoarse, like she had been holding back too much for too long.

Rishi leaned back on his hands, gazing at the view. “I knew you wouldn’t go home. And… I couldn’t leave you alone.”

She scoffed. “Alone?” She turned her head slightly, finally looking at him, her eyes dull and tired. “I’ve been alone my entire life, Rishi. What’s new?”

He remained silent, letting her speak.

Mahima let out a shaky breath and rested her chin on her knees. “You know… it wasn’t easy at all growing up without parents.” Her voice was quiet, but the pain in it was deafening.

“I din’t know them,” she whispered. “I din’t know if they loved me. I din’t know if they abandoned me or if something happened to them. All I know is… they were gone. And I was left behind.”

Her fingers gripped the fabric of her jeans tightly. “The kids at the orphanage used to remind me of that every single day. 'You don’t have parents because you weren’t worth keeping. They left you because you’re trash.'”

She swallowed hard, her voice growing more bitter. “Every single day, Rishi. I heard it every single day.”

She let out a humorless laugh, shaking her head. “Do you know how exhausting it is to fight back all the time? To pretend you don’t care? To build walls so high around yourself because if you don’t, you’ll.... break?”

Rishi clenched his fists, his jaw tightening, but he didn’t interrupt.

Mahima exhaled shakily and hugged her knees closer. “Even after I left that place, it didn’t stop. I was just a girl—alone, with no one to protect me. And people… people see that, Rishi. They see weakness, and they take advantage of it.”

Her voice broke slightly, but she kept going. “I was cornered so many times. By men who knew I had no one. Who knew no one would come looking for me if I disappeared. Do you know what that feels like? To look around and realize there’s no one? That if you scream, no one will hear you?”

Rishi’s entire body stiffened, rage simmering in his veins. He had always known Mahima was strong, but he had never known the weight of what she had carried her entire life.

She laughed again, but this time, her voice trembled. “If Amrita and the others hadn’t saved me that day… something else would have happened. And you know the worst part?”

She turned to look at him, her dark eyes filled with unshed tears. “No one would have cared. No one would have fought for me. No one would have avenged me.”

Rishi felt something inside him crack.

Mahima looked away, gazing at the distant lights below. “So yeah… I fight for myself. Because no one else ever did.”

Rishi took a deep breath before finally speaking. “You’re wrong, Mahima.”

She let out a dry chuckle. “Am I?”

He turned to face her fully, his voice firm. “You’re not alone now. You have people. You have me.”

She didn’t respond, just stared at the ground.

Rishi sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I know I can’t erase your past. I know I can’t take away what you’ve been through. But I swear, Mahima… I will never let you feel alone again.”

Her lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to say something, but no words came out.

The wind howled around them.

Rishi exhaled deeply, running a hand down his face before looking at Mahima again. "You're not the only one, Mahima," he said softly. "I'm an orphan too."

Mahima's eyes snapped toward him, surprise flickering through them.

He smiled faintly, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Aarush and I… we grew up together in an orphanage."

His voice grew distant as he recalled those days. "It was hell. Not knowing where you came from, not having anyone to call your own. Watching other kids get adopted while we were left behind. The world treated us like we.... didn’t matter."

He let out a bitter chuckle. "We had each other, but that didn’t make it any easier. There were nights we slept hungry, days we spent wondering if we’d ever be wanted. And the people… they weren't kind, Mahima."

Mahima didn’t say anything, just listened as he continued.

"Aarush was strong. He used to protect me from the bullies, take the beatings meant for me. But even he had moments where he’d break down. We both did." His jaw clenched.

"We fought to survive. To be seen. To be more than just forgotten children in a crowded orphanage."

He looked at Mahima, his voice softer now. "And then… the Raghuwanshis found us."

Mahima blinked, her expression unreadable.

"They took us in. Gave us a home. A family." His eyes held a strange mix of gratitude and pain. "They cared for us, Mahima. Something we had never known before. For the first time in our lives, we weren’t just existing—we were living."

Rishi turned toward her fully, his gaze intense. "And you? You have that now too."

Mahima stiffened.

"You have a family now, Mahima. The Raghuwanshis may not be your blood, but they are yours. You don’t have to fight alone anymore. You don’t have to carry this weight by yourself."

She shook her head slightly, but Rishi didn’t let her look away.

"You’re not just some abandoned girl anymore. You are a sister, a daughter, and whether you accept it or not, you are loved." His voice was firm, unwavering. "And no matter what happens, I will always stand beside you."

Mahima's lips trembled, her fingers digging into her arms as she fought back the storm raging inside her.

For years, she had believed that no one would ever stand by her. That she was alone in this world, fighting battles no one could understand.

But here was Rishi—telling her she wasn’t.

She wasn't alone.

For the first time in a long time, the walls she had built so carefully around herself began to crack.

She let out a shaky breath, her arms tightening around her knees. “You hate me too, don’t you?” she whispered, her voice barely audible against the cold wind.

Rishi frowned, his brows knitting together. “What?”

“You hate me,” she repeated, her voice trembling. “Just like everyone else. Because I hurt Aarush, right?”

Rishi shook his head immediately. “No, Mahima. No one hates you. And they never will.”

She let out a bitter chuckle. “You’re lying. Everyone looks at me like I’m the villain. Like I ruined everything. And maybe I did.”

Her eyes darkened. “Maybe I deserve to be hated.”

Rishi leaned forward, his tone firm but calm. “I don’t hate you, Mahima. None of us do.”

She turned away, her fingers digging into the fabric of her sleeves. “You think of me as your own?” Her voice was laced with quiet disbelief.

“Yes,” Rishi answered without hesitation.

Mahima scoffed. “Then tell me, Rishi, am I right or wrong?” She turned to face him, her eyes searching his for an answer she wasn’t sure she wanted.

Rishi sighed. “I don’t know, Mahima. I don’t know if you’re right or wrong.” He held her gaze, his voice gentle but unwavering. “But I do know one thing—you should give Mahira a chance.”

Mahima stiffened, her fingers clenching into fists.

“She’s your sister,” Rishi continued. “And despite everything, I think you care about her more than you admit.”

Mahima remained silent for a long moment. The weight of his words pressed against her chest, making it harder to breathe.

Finally, she exhaled and gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.

Rishi smiled softly.

Mahima quickly wiped her unshed tears before they could fall. “Let’s go back,” she murmured, standing up.

Rishi stood beside her. “Alright.”

And as they walked back toward the car, a part of Mahima felt lighter—as if, for the first time in years, she wasn’t completely alone.

●・○・●・○・●

Aaryansh was driving through the quiet morning streets, his mind preoccupied with work and the incidents back at his house when his eyes caught a familiar figure walking on the roadside.

His brows furrowed, and instinct took over as he pressed the brakes, bringing his car to a halt.

Stepping out, he walked towards the figure, his confusion turning into sheer joy the moment he recognized her.

“Advi!” he called out, his voice filled with excitement.

The woman stopped in her tracks and turned, her eyes widening in shock. “Aaryan?!”

Aaryansh grinned. “I can’t believe this! It’s really you!” He walked closer, taking in her familiar features.

She looked different—more mature, yet still the same Advi he remembered.

She blinked a few times before a bright smile spread across her lips. “Oh my god! Aaryan! What are you doing here?”

“I should be asking you that!” he chuckled. “Where the hell have you been all these years? You just disappeared!”

She laughed, shaking her head. “You were the one who disappeared first, Mr. Busy Man!”

Aaryansh crossed his arms. “Excuse me? You’re the one who never returned my calls! I thought you moved to some unknown land to escape me.”

She rolled her eyes. “As if you would let that happen! But seriously, how long has it been?”

“Years,” Aaryansh said, still staring at her in disbelief. “Way too long.”

They stood there for a moment, just taking in each other’s presence before she smirked. “So, tell me, do you still cheat at board games?”

Aaryansh gasped dramatically. “Excuse me? I have never cheated in my life!”

She burst out laughing. “Oh, please! I still remember how you used to hide cards under the table while playing Uno.”

He shook his head, pretending to be offended. “Lies! Slander! I demand proof.”

She crossed her arms. “Too bad I didn’t have a phone back then to record it.”

Aaryansh chuckled. “Well, I missed this. I missed you.”

Her smile softened. “Me too, Aaryan.”

His eyes gleamed with excitement. “Come on, let’s catch up properly. I’m not letting you disappear on me again.”

She smirked. “You better not. So, where are we going?”

Aaryansh grinned. “Somewhere with food. We have years’ worth of stories to share.”

And just like that, two long-lost best friends reunited, ready to dive into the nostalgia of their past while embracing the unexpected joy of the present.

●・○・●・○・●

Felt Mahima's pain? And why she had been pushing Mahira away?

Even in the worst moments, life still had its way of surprising them.🩵