94. Why "Dil"?

•┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈•

Days skip.

Mahira sat in her cabin, reviewing the files on her desk when a notification popped up on her phone.

Daisy: "The new chief of surgery is arriving today. You should meet Adviti."

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. A new person meant introductions, adjustments, and yet another conversation when she was still exhausted from everything else.

A soft knock pulled her from her thoughts. She looked up and stiffened. Mahima.

Mahima stood at the door, looking hesitant, her fingers twitching as if she was battling the urge to run. Mahira straightened but said nothing.

Slowly, Mahima stepped in. “Do… do my parents hate me?” Her voice was small, almost breaking.

She wasn’t looking at Mahira, her gaze fixed on the floor, her whole posture defensive, as if she was bracing herself for the answer.

Mahira watched her for a long moment, her heart twisting painfully.

She had expected Mahima to come, but not with this question. Not with this much vulnerability.

She inhaled sharply and then, in a quiet yet firm voice, she said, “Yes.”

Mahima’s breath hitched. She blinked rapidly, as if holding back tears, and turned on her heel.

Without another word, she walked toward the door. But just as she reached it, she stopped.

Still not looking back, she whispered, “I’m sorry.” Then, she left.

Mahira remained still, staring at the door that had just closed. Her fingers clenched into fists, nails digging into her palm.

A few seconds later, Daisy entered, frowning. “Why did you lie?” Her voice was soft but accusing.

Mahira closed her eyes for a second before looking up at her. “Because,” she whispered, “it’s better for my sister to believe a lie… than to face the truth.”

Daisy studied her for a moment before sighing and sitting down. “You always do this, Mahira. You take all the pain for yourself.”

Mahira didn’t respond. Because deep down, she knew Daisy was right.

But this was the only way she knew how to protect the people she loved. Even if it meant breaking herself in the process.

•┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈•

Mahima stood frozen outside Mahira’s cabin, her heart pounding in her chest.

She hadn’t intended to eavesdrop, but after what she’d just heard… she couldn’t move.

"It’s better to lie to my sister than to tell her the truth."

Mahira’s words echoed in her mind, tightening the knot in her stomach.

What truth was she hiding?

Did their parents really hate her?

Or was there something Mahira wasn’t telling her?

Taking a deep breath, Mahima turned and walked out of the hospital. Her hands clenched at her sides, frustration bubbling under her skin.

As she stepped outside, she spotted Rishi leaning against his car, waiting for her. The moment he saw her, he straightened, noticing the look on her face.

“What happened?” he asked, concern evident in his voice.

Mahima stopped in front of him, arms crossing over her chest. She hesitated for a second before saying, “Mahira’s hiding something about our parents.”

Rishi’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I overheard her talking to Daisy. She said it’s better to lie to me than to tell me the truth,” Mahima muttered, looking away. “I don’t know what it is, but something isn’t right.”

Rishi exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Mahima… are you sure you want to dig into this?”

Mahima snapped her head toward him. “Of course, I do! If she’s lying, I have the right to know the truth.”

Rishi held her gaze for a moment before nodding. “Then we’ll find out together.”

Mahima swallowed hard. She didn’t know what she would uncover, but one thing was certain—she wasn’t going to stop until she knew the truth.

•┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈•

At the Raghuwanshi palace, the tension that had loomed over the family for days was finally beginning to lift.

Mahima’s decision to take responsibility for her actions and seek forgiveness had brought a sense of relief to everyone.

The air in the house felt lighter, conversations were no longer laced with unease, and smiles were returning.

It was noon, and Ishika was in her room, curled up comfortably on the bed, lost in the world of her favorite drama.

The soft sounds from the television filled the space, her eyes glued to the screen as she munched on a handful of dry fruits.

Just then, she heard the door creak open.

Frowning, she sat up, pushing her hair back as she turned toward the door.

Rudraksh stepped inside, his face unreadable, his eyes locked onto her.

Her lips parted in surprise. “You’re back so soon?” she asked, tilting her head.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he took slow, deliberate steps toward her. His intense gaze sent an unexplainable shiver down her spine.

Before she could say another word, he reached out and took her hand in his, his grip firm yet oddly gentle.

She blinked. “Rudraksh ji…?”

Still, he remained silent, his thumb grazing over her knuckles as he led her toward the bed.

Her heart pounded at his unexpected tenderness. Rudraksh was not a man of unnecessary gestures, nor was he one to show emotions so openly.

He guided her to sit, and she did, confused but unable to question him further.

His usual cold and guarded expression had softened, replaced by something that made her stomach twist in uncertainty.

“What’s going on?” she asked, her voice laced with curiosity.

Instead of answering, he placed a finger against her lips, shushing her.

Her breath caught.

He never did things like this.

Her eyes widened as he, without hesitation, knelt before her.

A rush of emotions coursed through her, leaving her speechless. Rudraksh Raghuwanshi, the man known for his unwavering control, was kneeling in front of her.

She had never seen him this way before. Her heartbeat became erratic, her hands instinctively gripping the bedsheet beneath her.

“Rudraksh ji,” she whispered, barely recognizing her own voice. “What…what are you doing?”

He still didn’t speak.

His dark, piercing eyes remained fixed on her, searching—no, memorizing—every inch of her expression.

There was something about the way he looked at her right now that made her feel bare, exposed, as if he could see through every layer of her soul.

And then, finally, he exhaled.

A slow, deep breath that held weight, as if he had been carrying something heavy on his chest for too long.

Ishika gulped, her pulse racing wildly.

Was this some sort of joke? A trick? Or… was this real?

She wanted to ask. She wanted to break the silence. But the way his hand still gently held hers made her forget how to form words.

All she could do was stare.

And wait.

And wonder what on earth Rudraksh Raghuwanshi was about to do next.

•┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈•

Ishika’s heart pounded against her ribs as Rudraksh knelt before her, his expression unreadable.

Her hands clenched into fists on her lap, her breath uneven. His silence, his actions—everything about this moment sent her mind into a whirlwind of confusion and curiosity.

"Close your eyes," he finally said, his voice softer than she had ever heard it.

Her brows furrowed. "Why—"

"Just do it, Dil," he interrupted, his tone patient yet firm. "And don’t open them until I say so."

Something in his voice made her comply. Slowly, she closed her eyes, her lashes fluttering as she tried to focus on the sensation around her.

A sudden warmth enveloped her foot.

Her breath hitched.

She gasped, her fingers gripping the fabric of her dress. "Rudraksh ji… what are you doing?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

He didn't answer immediately. Instead, she felt his touch—gentle yet firm—lifting her ankle slightly, his fingers brushing against her skin.

"Just wait," he murmured, his voice a blend of patience and something… tender. "Let me do this."

A strange, cool sensation encircled her ankle, sending an unfamiliar shiver up her spine. A soft jingle followed, delicate and almost melodic.

She swallowed hard, resisting the urge to peek.

Seconds stretched into eternity, her senses hyper-aware of every touch, every movement.

Then, finally, his voice cut through the silence.

"Open your eyes."

Her lashes fluttered open, and the sight before her stole the breath from her lungs.

Her feet… adorned with a set of exquisite silver anklets, intricate and delicate, gleaming against her skin.

The tiny bells on them chimed ever so slightly as she moved her foot in disbelief.

A sharp inhale left her lips, her gaze snapping to Rudraksh in shock.

"You…" she trailed off, unable to find the words.

He was still kneeling, his hands resting on his thighs now, but unlike his usual stoic demeanor, his lips curled into a rare, heart-melting smile.

She had seen Rudraksh smirk, she had seen him serious, she had even seen him angry.

But this… this soft, almost shy smile?

It was new.

And it made her heart skip a beat.

"Rudraksh ji…?" Her voice was barely above a whisper.

He tilted his head slightly. "Do you like them?"

Her fingers instinctively reached down, touching the cold silver, her mind still reeling. "You… bought these for me?"

He nodded, his eyes never leaving hers.

"But… why?" Her voice wavered, emotion thick in her throat.

His smile deepened, and he leaned in slightly, his voice low.

"Because I wanted to," he said simply. "Because they belong on you."

Her breath caught.

The room felt smaller, the air between them electric.

Ishika had no idea what was happening between them right now, but she knew one thing for certain—

She would never forget this moment.

•┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈•

Ishika wiggled her feet slightly, testing the weight of the anklets, and the delicate chime of the tiny bells filled the room.

A surprised chuckle escaped her lips as she listened to the sweet sound, her eyes twinkling with delight.

Rudraksh stilled.

His gaze softened, his heart swelling at the sound of her laughter. He had heard her giggle before, had seen her smile, but this—this pure, unfiltered joy—was something else entirely.

A warmth spread through his chest, a rare, almost giddy feeling.

"I love the sound of your laughter, Dil." he murmured, his voice deep, reverent.

Ishika stilled.

Her smile faded into a look of surprise, and she turned to him, her cheeks dusted pink.

Dil.

She had heard him call her that before, but right now, after what just happened, after this overwhelming wave of emotions, the word suddenly felt… heavier.

More significant.

She hesitated, her voice almost unsure. "Why do you call me that?"

Rudraksh’s lips curled into a breathtaking smile, one that sent shivers down her spine.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he adjusted his position, rising slightly so that he was kneeling in front of her, his hands resting gently on her lap.

His touch was light, yet it burned through the fabric of her dress, making her heart race.

She had never seen him like this before.

This vulnerable.

This open.

This… in love.

"Because," he started, his voice laced with an emotion she couldn't quite name, "you are my Dil."

Ishika’s breath caught in her throat.

Her fingers curled over the bedsheet as she stared at him, wide-eyed.

He exhaled softly, his eyes locked onto hers, holding her in place, as if this was the most important thing he had ever said.

"Before you, I knew I had a heart," he continued, his tone deep, his words slow and deliberate, as though he was confessing the very essence of his soul.

"But I never realized it was beating like everyone else's. I never felt it."

She swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in her throat.

Rudraksh’s fingers traced small, absentminded circles over the fabric of her dress. "Then you came into my life," he murmured.

"You… changed me."

Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

"You healed me," he whispered.

"You cared for me. Loved me. And that’s when I knew—my heart was never lifeless."

His eyes darkened, filled with something so raw, so intense that she could hardly breathe.

"My heart was beating."

He leaned in, his forehead almost touching hers, his breath mingling with her own.

"And it was beating because of you."

Her chest ached with the weight of his words.

"It is beating because for you." His voice trembled slightly, a rare crack in his usual composed self.

"And it will always beat only for you, Dil."

Tears welled up in her eyes, her heart racing at a speed she didn’t think was possible.

"Aap…" she tried to speak, but her voice was barely above a whisper.

"You are my Dil."

A tear slipped down her cheek.

Rudraksh caught it before it could fall any further, brushing it away with his thumb, his touch so gentle that she felt her entire body shiver.

Her lips parted, trying to find something—anything—to say. But words failed her.

How could she respond to something so… beautiful?

So overwhelming?

Instead, she did the only thing her heart begged her to do.

She threw her arms around him, burying her face into his shoulder as fresh tears spilled down her cheeks.

Rudraksh didn’t hesitate for a second.

He wrapped her in his embrace, his arms tightening around her as though he never wanted to let go.

And for the first time in forever, Ishika realized—

This man, who once seemed so unreachable, so distant—

Was now hers.

Completely.

Utterly.

Hers.

And she was his.

His Dil.

His heart.

His everything.

•┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈•

She pulled back slightly, her breath shaky, her heart still racing. Their faces were dangerously close, mere inches apart, and she could feel the warmth radiating from him.

Her eyes flickered over his features—his sharp jawline, the way his lips curled into a soft, knowing smile, and those intense eyes that held her captive.

She swallowed, her face turning a delicate shade of pink.

“Rudraksh ji…” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath.

He hummed in response, his smile deepening, as if he already knew what she was going to say before she even spoke.

She lowered her gaze, her fingers clutching the fabric of her dupatta.

“Yeh… sab…” she hesitated, trying to gather her thoughts,

(All...this...)

“Aap… matlab…” She looked up again, her eyes searching his.

(You...I mean…)

“You really mean all of this?”

His smile softened, but his eyes darkened with sincerity. “Dil,” he murmured, his hand gently resting over hers,

“I have never meant anything more in my life.”

She inhaled sharply at his touch, her heartbeat thundering in her ears.

“But why now?” she asked, trying to calm the storm inside her chest. “You’ve never said anything like this before…”

Rudraksh let out a small chuckle, shaking his head. “I thought actions spoke louder than words,” he admitted.

“But today, I wanted you to hear it from me. No misunderstandings. No doubts. Just the truth.”

Ishika stared at him, unable to look away. His words wrapped around her heart, making it ache in the most beautiful way.

“Dil,” he said, his voice dropping lower, more intense,

“tum sirf meri patni nahi ho… tum meri har wajah ho. Tumse pehle… mujhe laga hi nahi ki mera dil sach mein dhadakta hai. Tum aayi… aur maine mehsoos kiya—har ek dhadkan sirf tumhare liye hai.”

("You are not just my wife… You are my everything. Before you… I didn't think my heart really beats. You came… and I felt it — Every beat it beats is only for you.")

Her lips parted, a soft gasp escaping.

He lifted her hand and placed it over his chest. “Feel it,” he whispered. “It beats for you.”

She pressed her palm against him, feeling the strong, steady rhythm beneath her fingertips.

Her eyes filled with unshed tears, overwhelmed by the depth of his words, the love in his voice, the warmth in his touch.

“Rudraksh ji…” she whispered again, this time with emotion so raw, so real, that she herself couldn’t comprehend it.

He exhaled, his forehead touching hers, his fingers gently intertwining with hers.

“I don't know from when… but I can't stay one moment without thinking of you, Dil.” he admitted.

“Before you, Dil… I was just existing. But you taught me how to live.”

A lone tear slipped down her cheek, and Rudraksh caught it with his thumb. His touch lingered, his gaze never leaving hers.

“I love you, Dil,” he said softly.

Her breath hitched. She felt like she was melting under the weight of his words, under the intensity of his gaze.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The only sound in the room was the soft tinkling of her anklets as she shifted slightly.

Then, slowly, Ishika smiled through her tears. “You really are impossible, Rudraksh ji,” she murmured, her fingers squeezing his.

He grinned. “And yet, you still love me.”

Her heart skipped a beat, her blush deepening. “I never said that.”

He smirked. “But your eyes did.”

She bit her lip, looking away, but he gently tilted her chin back toward him.

“Say it,” he whispered.

Her cheeks burned. “Say what?”

His lips hovered just above hers, his breath warm against her skin. “That you love me.”

Ishika’s heart pounded so loudly she was sure he could hear it. She closed her eyes for a moment, gathering the courage she never thought she had.

Then, she looked into his eyes and whispered—

“I love you so much, Rudraksh ji.”

A brilliant smile spread across his face, and before she could react, he pulled her into his arms, holding her so tightly, so protectively, as if he would never let her go.

And at that moment, she knew—he never would.

•┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈•

Ishika hesitated, her breath shaky, her heart drumming against her ribcage. Her fingers trembled as they clutched onto his kurta, her gaze locked onto his lips.

And then, before she could think, before she could stop herself, she leaned in—her soft lips brushing against his in the faintest of touches, before she pulled back.

Rudraksh froze. His eyes widened in sheer shock as he processed what had just happened. She… she kissed him?

His gaze immediately dropped to her lips, the warmth of her fleeting touch still lingering like an unspoken promise.

Ishika, too, was staring at his lips, as if she was still registering her own actions.

Her face turned a deep shade of pink as she whispered again, “Rudraksh ji…”

His throat went dry, his mind blank. “Hmm?” he hummed, his voice rougher than he intended.

“I… I don’t know how to kiss,” she admitted, her voice barely audible, laced with innocence and hesitation.

A slow, teasing smile stretched across his lips. His eyes darkened with a mixture of amusement and something deeper, something more intense.

“Oh?” he drawled, tilting his head slightly. “And here I thought you learned from all those dramas you watch.”

Ishika’s breath hitched, and her face turned an even darker shade of red.

“Rudraksh ji!” she gasped, swatting at his chest in embarrassment.

He chuckled, his laughter warm and husky, making her insides twist in nervous anticipation.

His fingers gently brushed against her cheek as he whispered,

“Let me lead you.”

Before she could react, his hand cradled the back of her head, pulling her closer with a gentleness that sent shivers down her spine.

His lips met hers—this time, firm, deliberate, and passionate.

Ishika’s breath stilled as her entire world narrowed down to this moment—this kiss.

He moved slowly, guiding her, his lips coaxing hers with an intoxicating tenderness.

She clutched onto his kurta, unsure, yet trusting him completely. Her fingers curled against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart against her palm.

Rudraksh deepened the kiss, his arms encircling her waist, pulling her flush against him.

His lips moved against hers like he had all the time in the world to teach her, to make her feel.

His grip remained firm, yet patient, allowing her to follow his rhythm, to explore, to understand.

When they finally parted, Ishika was breathless, her lips tingling, her heart hammering so loudly that she was sure he could hear it.

Rudraksh rested his forehead against hers, his breath mingling with hers.

He smiled, his thumb gently caressing her cheek. “See? You’re a fast learner.”

Ishika buried her face in his chest, too embarrassed to speak, while he only chuckled, holding her even closer.

•┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈•

Her fingers trembled against his chest, his heartbeat wild beneath her touch.💕✨💓✨