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Vedant stood outside the grand Rathore mansion, nervously adjusting the cuff of his shirt. He took a deep breath, murmuring to himself, "Come on, Vedant! You can do it. Isme kuch galat nahi hai." Resolving his thoughts, he pushed open the gate and walked inside.

In the garden, he spotted Vaibhav crouched over a patch of soil, planting flowers with Preksha. She giggled as she smeared a bit of mud on Vaibhav's cheek, only for him to retaliate by dabbing some on her cheek as well.

"Vaibhav! Stop it!" Preksha huffed, standing and turning to leave. But Vaibhav caught her wrist, his face breaking into a playful smile as he held his ears in mock apology. Preksha tried to maintain her stern expression, but the sincerity in his gesture made her burst into laughter. She lightly hit his chest, shaking her head in faux exasperation.

Vedant couldn't help but smile at the sight. Their easy camaraderie filled the garden with warmth, momentarily putting him at ease.

Vaibhav turned his head and noticed Vedant standing at the edge of the garden. His face lit up with surprise and delight.

"What a surprise, chokre! Aao na," Vaibhav called out, gesturing for him to come closer.

Vedant approached, joining them with a polite smile. "Namaste, uncle."

Vaibhav gave him a friendly pat on the back. "Kaisa hai, beta? Aur tere Mr. Mathur aur Mrs. Mathur kaise hain?"

Vedant’s lips twitched with a smile. "They’re good, uncle. In fact, maa couldn’t stop praising you after meeting you at the party."

Preksha, who had been wiping her hands, chimed in with a teasing laugh, "Oh, haan. Unhone bataya tha ki she used to have a crush on Vaibhav in her teenage days."

Vedant chuckled, nodding. "Yes, she was telling me about it just yesterday."

Vaibhav scratched the back of his neck, grinning sheepishly. "Yeh toh mujhe yaad bhi nahi tha. Tumhari maa toh kuch zyada hi honest hain!"

"Honest toh hain, par woh zyada impressed ho gayi thi aapse," Vedant added, his voice light.

Preksha shook her head fondly, "Accha, aap log baat kariye. Main kuch lekar aati hoon." She walked toward the house, leaving the two men to talk.

Vaibhav turned to Vedant, curiosity etched on his face. "Toh batao, chokre, yeh surprise visit ka kya maqsad hai?”

Vaibhav’s eyebrows shot up in surprise as Vedant spoke. "Woh... aap Nandini ko apni company se nikal dijiye, please," Vedant said, his voice low but resolute.

Vaibhav’s eyes narrowed. "Kya? Have you lost your mind? Tum jaante ho tum kya keh rahe ho?"

Vedant sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Uncle, please try to understand. I proposed to her, and then..." He paused, his voice faltering momentarily before he recounted everything—his confession, her reaction, and the awkwardness that had since grown between them.

Vaibhav leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. "Aur tumhara solution hai ki main usse naukri se nikal doon? Vedant, tum serious ho?"

Vedant nodded earnestly. "Yes, uncle. Dekhiye, I can’t even see her properly now. It’s like there’s a wall between us, and I don’t know how to break it. Agar aap usse nikal denge toh main papa se baat karunga; unki company mein uske liye jagah banwa dunga. At least tab wo mere aas paas rahegi."

Vaibhav shook his head, a mix of disbelief and amusement on his face. "Beta, tumhe samajh bhi aa raha hai ki tum kya maang rahe ho? Nandini ek strong, independent ladki hai. Agar usse pata chal gaya ki tumhari wajah se uska career disrupt hua, toh tumhara plan poora hone ke bajay aur bigad jayega. She might never trust you again."

Vedant leaned forward, his tone desperate yet determined. "Uncle, mujhe pata hai ki yeh risk hai. But I don’t have any other option. I know she feels something for me—her eyes, her hesitation, sab kuch kehta hai ki she’s holding back. Kuch toh hai jo usse rok raha hai, jo uske dil mein ek dar banake baitha hai. Shayad usne kabhi kuch aisa dekha ya jhela hai jo uska love par se bharosa uth gaya."

Vaibhav sighed. "Aur tumhe lagta hai ki uska job change karake tum uska bharosa wapas jeet loge?"

Vedant met his gaze firmly, his voice steady. "Nahi, uncle. Mera maksat uska trust todna nahi, uska saath jeetna hai. I want her to believe in love again—meri love mein, apne aap mein. I want to love her in a way that she forgets all her fears and insecurities. Par yeh sab tabhi hoga jab wo mere kareeb rahegi, mere aas paas ho."

Vaibhav considered his words for a moment before responding. "Vedant, tumhare emotions samajhta hoon. Lekin is tarah ki planning se tum uska trust jeetne ke bajay kho doge. Tumhe chahiye ki tum usse samajho, uske saath khud ki jagah banao, bina kisi manipulation ke."

Vedant shook his head. "Uncle, main usse manipulate nahi kar raha. Main uska career ruin nahi karna chahta. Main bas ek chance chahta hoon. Ek chance to be close to her, to understand her pain, to help her heal. Main haar nahi maan sakta. She deserves to be loved, aur mujhe pata hai ki main uske liye wo sab kuch kar sakta hoon jo usse uski insecurities bhulane mein madad kare."

Vaibhav studied him closely, his stern expression softening slightly at Vedant’s unwavering determination. "Yeh sab asaan nahi hoga, Vedant. Tumhara rasta galat bhi sabit ho sakta hai. Tum tayyar ho iske consequences ke liye?"

Vedant’s jaw tightened as he nodded. "Jo bhi ho, uncle, main usse uske insecurities ke saath chhod nahi sakta. Agar mujhe uska trust jeetne ke liye apni har cheez daav par lagani padhi, toh main wo bhi karunga."

Vaibhav sighed deeply, sensing the sincerity in Vedant’s words. "Thik hai, lekin jo bhi karo, soojh-boojh se karo. Aur yaad rakhna, ek galat kadam sab kuch khatam kar sakta hai."

Vedant nodded, determination shining in his eyes. "Mujhe pata hai, uncle. Par yeh risk lene ke liye main tayyar hoon.”

***************************************,

The afternoon was calm, the sun beginning to set as Krishiv drove along the quiet streets, the soft hum of the engine filling the silence. Kavya sat beside him, gently holding Bulbul on her lap, who was quietly watching the passing scenery. It had been a long day, and they were finally on their way back home. Krishiv had requested to pick Bulbul up today, and Kavya, though tired, had agreed. The car was cozy, the faint smell of lavender from the air freshener mingling with the comforting scent of the food Kavya had packed for them.

Just as they turned onto a familiar street, Bulbul, who had been unusually quiet for the last few minutes, spoke up in her usual energetic tone, breaking the calmness in the car.

"Alle haan... wo Rita aunty was asking for your numbel," Bulbul said, her words slightly slurring as she tried to recall the conversation from earlier.

Krishiv furrowed his brow and glanced at her briefly, intrigued by the mention of someone asking for his number. He didn't recognize the name at first. "Kyun?" he asked, his curiosity piqued.

Bulbul paused, tapping her chin in mock concentration before continuing, her voice full of childish sincerity. "She said that aunty... what was her name... alle jisshe ham mall me mile the... drakula aunty ki behen."

Krishiv's lips twitched into a smile as he tried to decipher the description. "Karishma?" he asked, laughing lightly at Bulbul's attempt to recall the name.

"Haaan, she was asking for your number," Bulbul replied, a matter-of-fact tone in her voice, completely unaware of the amused confusion she was causing.

Krishiv let out a chuckle at the idea of someone asking for his number, especially with the playful description Bulbul had given. "Tumne diya toh nahi?" he asked, raising an eyebrow in mock suspicion.

"Nahi... itni buddhu thodi hun," Bulbul said proudly, shaking her head with exaggerated seriousness. She was far too young to even think about sharing anyone's contact details, but she enjoyed the conversation too much to leave it at just that.

"Thank you!!" Krishiv exclaimed, his voice dripping with gratitude and amusement.

Kavya, who had been quietly observing the exchange, couldn’t help but smile at the banter. But there was something that had caught her attention—the mention of this 'Karishma' had her puzzled. She glanced at Krishiv, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Who is this new girl?" she thought, her curiosity slowly piquing. She hadn’t heard of any Karishma before.

As the car pulled to a stop in front of their building, Krishiv waved them goodbye with a warm smile. Bulbul waved enthusiastically back at him, her face lighting up with the kind of joy only a child could display.

“Bulbul, kiske baare me baat kar rahi thi aap?” Kavya asked, her tone casual but her expression full of questions.

Bulbul, still energetic from the ride and the earlier discussion, blinked up at Kavya, her small face scrunched in concentration as she tried to remember. “Wo… that day we went to eat ice cream na... toh Rita aunty mili, and then…” Bulbul trailed off, recalling the details of that day.

She started explaining excitedly, recounting how they had run into Rita aunty at the ice cream shop, and how Karishma had been mentioned in passing. “She is his… kya kehte hain… x… y… z… alle… haan, x girlfriend type kuch,” Bulbul said, her words slightly disjointed as she tried to explain her understanding of the situation.

Kavya, who had been listening intently, raised an eyebrow, piecing together the information. “Ohh,” she said, a note of understanding in her voice. So this Karishma was someone from Krishiv’s past. She felt a slight pang of curiosity and concern but decided to keep her focus on what Bulbul was saying.

Bulbul, her wide eyes gleaming, continued without missing a beat. “Haan mumma, she is very bad... she was insulting him,” she said, her voice filled with childish indignation. Bulbul’s loyalty to Krishiv was apparent as she went on to describe what Karishma had said to him that day.

“What did she say to him?” Kavya asked, her voice filled with concern for Krishiv, even though she was trying to keep the mood light.

Bulbul crossed her arms, making a serious face. “She said that he’s not doing well, that he’s useless and all. She was being very mean,” she said, recounting the scene in as much detail as her young memory could manage.

Kavya’s eyes widened in disbelief, her protective instincts kicking in. “How dare she! Tumne kuch kaha nahi usse? Vaise toh best friend maanti ho?” she asked, her tone a mix of disbelief and concern. She had a hard time imagining anyone treating Krishiv that way.

Bulbul shook her head vigorously, her voice laced with pride. “Haan bola na! I gave her a nice one,” she said, recounting the witty retort she had given Karishma in response to her insults. Kavya chuckled softly, impressed by her daughter’s protective instincts.

“What did you say?” Kavya asked, genuinely curious now.

Bulbul’s face broke into a grin, clearly pleased with her own words. “I told her that he is the best and I am lucky to have him.” she said, puffing out her chest as though she had delivered a grand speech.

Kavya let out a small laugh, proud of Bulbul’s brave defense of Krishiv. “Sholly mumma, I called him papa in front of her,” Bulbul added sheepishly, looking up at Kavya with an apologetic expression.

Kavya smiled warmly at her, proud yet teasing. “Sahi kiya, serves her right! Badi aayi bolne wali unko! Bewakoof ladki! Mujhe milegi toh aisa marungi na, yaad rakhegi,” Kavya said, her voice full of playful anger as she imagined dealing with Karishma.

Bulbul gasped dramatically, looking at her mother in wide-eyed shock. “Haww mumma, aise nahi kehte,” she scolded, shaking her finger at Kavya in mock disapproval.

Kavya’s lips twitched into a smile, both amused and fond of her daughter’s reactions. She ruffled Bulbul’s hair playfully.

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

Akshat opened the door to the apartment and immediately noticed Amrit sitting cross-legged on the sofa, staring at the television. The bright flicker of the TV lit up her face, but her expression was cold, her focus fixed on the screen.

He walked over and plopped down beside her, leaning forward slightly to catch her gaze. "Tum aise chali kyun aayi?" he asked, his tone soft, but she didn’t even flinch.

Her fingers tightened around the remote as she pressed the volume button, the sound blaring to an almost unbearable level.

"Arrey, why did you increase the volume? Pure building ko sunana hai kya?" Akshat said, frowning. But instead of replying, she pressed the button again, turning the volume to maximum.

"Amrit, what is this? Volume kam karo," he said, his frustration showing now.

Without a word, she raised her hand, showing him a dismissive thumbs-up gesture. Then, with exaggerated movements, she muted the TV, stood up abruptly, and stomped over to turn it off completely.

"Ab kya hua? Mujhse gussa ho?" Akshat asked, his voice a mix of concern and confusion.

Amrit ignored him entirely, brushing past him to pick up a book from the nearby table. She settled onto the armchair in the corner, opening the book and pretending to read, her eyes skimming over the pages without focus.

"Amrit, at least look at me," Akshat pleaded, standing in front of her, but she continued to act as though he wasn’t there.

He sighed deeply, ruffling his hair in frustration. "Theek hai, tum baat nahi karogi? Chalo, main kuch aur try karta hoon," he muttered to himself and walked toward the kitchen.

A few minutes later, he returned holding two cups of tea, the aroma filling the room. He placed one cup gently on the table near her.

"Yeh lo, tumhara favorite chai. Chup rehke apna mood mat kharaab karo. Tumhe jitni der gussa karna hai, karlo, par please yeh chai thandi mat hone dena," he said softly, his tone filled with affection.

Amrit paused, glancing at the tea out of the corner of her eye. Her fingers tightened around her book, and for a moment, Akshat thought she might finally speak.

But instead, she simply picked up the cup, took a sip, and returned to her book without a word.

Akshat entered the living room, his hands holding two cups of freshly brewed tea, hoping it might lighten the mood. As he placed the cup near Amrit, she didn't even glance at it. Her eyes were focused intently on her book, her posture stiff and unmoving.

"Amrit, kya hua hai? At least tell me something," he said, frustration creeping into his voice as he placed the cup gently on the table beside her.

But there was no response. Her grip tightened around the book, her focus unwavering. It was as if she was trying to shut him out completely.

Without warning, she grabbed a pillow from the couch and hurled it at him, startling him.

"Arrey, ye kya kar rahi ho?" Akshat exclaimed, instinctively raising his arms to shield himself.

She didn’t stop there. Another pillow followed, hitting him square in the chest. Before he could react, a third one came flying at him, this time narrowly missing his head.

"What is your problem, Amrit?" he asked, clearly confused and slightly amused as he ducked another flying pillow.

"Jab aapko mujhe drama se nikalna hi tha, toh why did you ask me to participate?" Amrit’s voice was sharp, her eyes blazing with anger. "Aur selection ke baad bhi maine pucha tha, toh kyun nahi mana kiya?" she demanded, picking up a book from the table and hurling it at him with force.

Akshat quickly caught the book in mid-air, his reflexes sharp. "Wo… wo toh jab practice shuru hone lagi, toh I noticed the performance," he tried to explain, but before he could finish his sentence, she picked up yet another pillow and threw it at him with such intensity that it almost knocked him off balance.

"Isse toh lagegi bhi nahi, room kyun kharab kar rahi ho?" he asked, trying to reason with her while dodging yet another cushion.

"Karungi! Mera room hai! Meri marzi!" she shouted, her frustration boiling over. She grabbed a couple of picture frames from the table, tossing them on the floor, followed by a few more cushions. The room was becoming a mess, and Akshat could only watch, trying to shield himself from the flying objects.

"Amrit, calm down!" Akshat said, raising his voice in an attempt to be heard over the chaos. He took a step forward but stopped when she glared at him with fiery eyes, daring him to take another step.

He froze, not sure what to do next. Amrit stormed into the washroom, slamming the door behind her. The sound echoed through the apartment, leaving a heavy silence in its wake.

He knelt down, starting to pick up the scattered pillows, throwing them back onto the couch. Slowly, he rearranged the room, straightening the pictures and fixing the bed. The soft ticking of the clock was the only sound in the apartment, and his mind raced, trying to understand what had just happened.

Akshat walked back into the room, his eyes immediately falling on the mess. The carefully arranged pillows and neatly made bed were now in complete disarray, the remnants of Amrit’s frustration evident in the scattered chaos. He stared at the room for a moment, disbelief washing over him.

"Ye kya kiya? Kitne mehnat se sahi kiya tha maine," Akshat muttered under his breath, looking at the torn pillows, overturned books, and the room that was now a reflection of the emotional storm they had just weathered. He sighed deeply, rubbing his temples in frustration.

Amrit’s voice, cold and sharp, broke the silence.

"Ab pata chala, koi mehnat se kuch karta hai aur samne wala uski mehnat pe paani pher deta hai toh kaisa lagta hai?" she said, her back still turned to him as she stared out the window.

Akshat winced, her words striking him harder than any pillow ever could. He walked towards her, guilt tugging at his chest. Taking a seat next to her, he ran his hand through his hair in an attempt to explain himself, his voice sincere.

"Amrit... I... I am sorry..." He began, his tone soft but filled with regret.

But Amrit didn’t even look at him. Her face remained set, a mask of frustration and hurt.

"I don’t need your sorry!" she snapped, her words quick and bitter. "I want the actual reason, Akshat. I know my performance was not the problem." Her eyes locked with his, challenging him to give her the truth, the one thing she was searching for.

Akshat felt the weight of her gaze, her words sinking into him like a thousand needles. He opened his mouth, but the words he wanted to say didn’t come. Instead, he sighed, looking away, unable to meet her eyes.

"A... aisa kuch nahi hai..." he said softly, trying to dismiss the issue as nothing more than a misunderstanding.

But Amrit wasn’t fooled. She stood up abruptly, her frustration boiling over. Without saying another word, she walked towards the balcony, shutting the door with a force that made the walls seem to shake. Akshat sat there for a moment, stunned by her reaction.

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

It was a lively evening at the supermarket. Kavya and Bulbul moved through the aisles, their cart gradually filling with groceries. Bulbul, full of energy, pushed the trolley ahead, navigating it like her own personal adventure.

After they had most of the items they needed, Bulbul’s eyes lit up as they approached the checkout area where an ice cream parlor stood in full view. The bright colors of the posters and the cheerful chatter of kids enjoying their treats immediately caught her attention.

“Mumma, ice cream!” Bulbul exclaimed, pointing eagerly toward the parlor.

Kavya looked at her daughter with a sigh, shaking her head. “No, Bulbul. Abhi issi week khaya tha na tumne cheat uncle ke saath,” she said, her tone firm but not harsh.

Bulbul’s shoulders drooped, but she wasn’t giving up so easily. “Please, Mumma. Please, please, please!” she pleaded, her big, hopeful eyes staring up at Kavya.

Kavya smiled softly but stayed resolute. “No, Bulbul. Ek week me kitni baar ice cream khana hai tumhe?” she said, taking hold of the trolley and steering it toward the dairy section.

Bulbul pouted, standing still for a moment as Kavya walked ahead with the cart. Her gaze drifted back to the ice cream parlor, where a small scene unfolded that tugged at her heart.

A little girl, about her age, was being held in her father’s arms. The man handed the girl a small cone of chocolate ice cream, and her face lit up with the biggest grin.

“Arre, I told you na not to give her ice cream,” the girl’s mother said, approaching them with a hint of exasperation.

“Sometimes it’s okay, darling,” the father replied with a warm smile, gently wiping a smudge of chocolate from the girl’s cheek.

“Hamesha bigaad ke rakha hai isse bas,” the mother said with a playful glare, but her smile betrayed her amusement.

The little girl giggled, hugging her father’s neck tightly as he ruffled her hair. The sight was heartwarming, a picture of familial love and joy.

Bulbul watched the scene unfold with a faint, wistful smile that slowly faded. Her small hands clenched the hem of her dress, her heart heavy with an ache she didn’t quite understand but deeply felt. She wondered what it would feel like to have a father—someone to hold her, spoil her with ice cream, and laugh with her like that.

Suddenly, two packets of ice cream were placed in front of her. She looked up, surprised, and saw Krishiv kneeling in front of her, a playful smile on his face, his hands holding the packets.

“Which one?” he asked, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Vanilla!” Bulbul exclaimed with a loud grin, and without hesitation, she hugged him tightly.

“When did you come?” she asked, her excitement bubbling over.

“I came to buy some groceries and saw you here,” Krishiv replied, ruffling her hair. “Ab jaldi lo. Before your mumma comes.”

“Mumma dekhengi toh she will scold me,” Bulbul said, her smile faltering slightly.

“She’s busy right now. Tab tak we’ll finish this. Kaan o kaan khabar bhi nahi hogi,” Krishiv said with a wink.

Bulbul chuckled, reaching up to pull Krishiv’s nose gently. “You must have been so naughty in your childhood!”

Krishiv smirked. “I still am.”

Bulbul rolled her eyes dramatically. “Yeah, yeah. Jaldi se khatam karo, warna Mumma will catch us.”

She took the vanilla ice cream, happily savoring her first bite. Krishiv stood beside her, keeping an eye out for Kavya. But before they could finish, a voice interrupted them.

“Aaj baap aur beti shopping pe aaye hain.”

The playful moment froze. Krishiv and Bulbul turned to see Karishma standing there, her arms crossed and a sarcastic smile on her face.

Krishiv stood straight, his posture stiffening as his eyes locked on Karishma.

“Hi aunty!” Bulbul greeted cheerfully, oblivious to the tension.

“Hi, shopping pe aaye ho?” Karishma asked with a sly smile.

“Haan,” Krishiv replied curtly, his tone guarded.

“Mumma nahi aayi aapki, beta?” Karishma pressed, her words laced with mockery.

Krishiv’s mind raced. "I want to tell her the truth, but then Miss Rita will also get to know, and she’ll blurt it out at school. What to do now? Bulbul will be in trouble."

Just as he was debating his options, a familiar voice broke his thoughts. “Aap log?”

Krishiv turned and saw Kavya walking toward them, her expression laced with confusion.

“Phas gaye!” Both Krishiv and Bulbul muttered under their breaths, exchanging a quick, knowing glance.

Kavya’s gaze fell on the ice cream in Bulbul’s hand. Her expression darkened. “Phir se dila diya ice cream! Aap na, bilkul bigaad denge isse.” She scolded Krishiv, her tone sharp.

“Oh, so she’s the one,” Karishma chimed in, her voice dripping with sarc

asm.

“Ji?” Kavya looked at her, utterly confused.

Karishma smirked and stepped closer. “Hi, I’m your husband’s ex-girlfriend. The one who left him.”

“Huh?” Kavya blinked, stunned.

Krishiv stole a glance at Bulbul, who, despite her small stature, managed to push him toward the situation with a little shove. She leaned in and whispered urgently, “Sambhalo na!”

Krishiv took a deep breath, feeling like he was walking into a lion’s den. His eyes darted toward Kavya, who stood rooted to the spot, her confusion written all over her face. Without hesitation, he stepped closer to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.

Kavya’s eyes widened in shock, her breath hitching as she stiffened under his touch. The casual way he slid his arm around her sent her thoughts spiraling. Why is this affecting me so much? she wondered, her cheeks warming at the unexpected closeness.

“Karishma,” Krishiv began, trying to keep his voice steady. “She is my wife… Bulbul ki…”

Before he could finish, Bulbul stomped on his foot, forcing him to correct himself. “Kavya,” he said quickly, clearing his throat. “She is Kavya.”

Kavya’s mind struggled to process everything. The sound of her name from his lips felt strangely intimate. She glanced at him briefly, her heart pounding in her chest. Why do I feel like this?

“And this,” Krishiv added, motioning towards Karishma, “is Karishma.”

Kavya’s sharp eyes immediately assessed the woman in front of her. So, this is the infamous Karishma, she thought, recalling Bulbul’s earlier stories. Her face remained stoic, betraying none of her thoughts, but her clenched fists at her sides revealed the tension building inside her. She gave a curt nod, choosing to stay silent.

Meanwhile, Krishiv’s nerves were unraveling. He glanced at Kavya’s expression and winced internally. Shit! Yeh toh phir se class lagegi, he thought, already bracing himself for the aftermath.

“Okay, bye,” Krishiv said hurriedly, desperate to end the encounter.

Karishma, however, wasn’t ready to let it go. “Arre, aise kaise bye?” she asked, her tone deceptively sweet. “Let’s have coffee together. My fiancé is nearby, I’ll call him too.”

Krishiv blinked. “Fiancé?” he echoed in disbelief, unable to hide his surprise.

Karishma smirked, clearly enjoying his reaction. “Yes, my fiancé. Vaise toh he’s always so busy, but he’s here today for a meeting with some big businessman. There’s a famous and expensive café nearby. Let’s go; he’ll be there too.”

“Karishma, we can’t…” Krishiv started, his voice firm but polite, trying to find a way out of the growing mess.

Karishma cut him off with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Arre, I know you can’t afford that café, but don’t worry,” she said with a smug smile. “My fiancé, Arpit, gives me so much pocket money. I’ll pay. Please, please?” she pleaded, clasping her hands dramatically.

Before Krishiv could respond, her phone buzzed. She picked it up and answered, her tone switching to a syrupy sweetness. “Hello, yes baby. Haan baby, I’m coming… Yeah, love you, umaah!” She threw a quick glance at Krishiv, clearly expecting some reaction, but he remained stoic. His focus wasn’t on her at all—it was on Kavya, who stood quietly, her expression unreadable. He was already calculating the consequences of this disastrous encounter.

Karishma ended the call and turned back to them, cheerful as ever. “Chalo, we’ll go in your car if you have one. I came by cab, na. Let’s go!” She said with a casual wave, walking toward the exit.

Krishiv groaned inwardly and turned to Kavya, his guilt overflowing. “Bulbul ki mummy, I am so sorry… Phas gaya main! Woh Bulbul ne push kiya aur mujhe samajh hi nahi aaya kya karun,” he began, blurting out excuses. “She’s Miss Rita’s sister, and Miss Rita is close to Bulbul’s principal. Agar kuch bolta toh Bulbul ko problem ho jaati, aur—”

Kavya interrupted him mid-rant with a calm, “Chalein?”

He blinked, confused. “Huh? Kahan?”

“Café, aur kahan?” she replied matter-of-factly, snatching the ice creams from Bulbul and Krishiv’s hands. “Aur yeh ice creams vapas rakhiye. Café mein hi kha lijiyega,” she added sternly, walking over to return them to the freezer.

Krishiv stared after her in disbelief. “Matlab… Aap aa rahi hain?”

“Maine abhi kya kaha?” she replied sharply, raising a brow at him before walking out of the store.

Krishiv stood there frozen, processing her words. “Sometimes, I can’t understand your mumma,” he muttered to Bulbul, running a hand through his hair.

“Me too,” Bulbul replied with a dramatic shrug, before grabbing his hand to pull him toward the exit.

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

Akshat, holding a plate of food, walked toward Amrit, who was still standing by the balcony, staring out at the night sky. He hesitated for a moment before speaking softly.

"Amrit, dinner kar lo," Akshat said, his voice gentle yet filled with concern.

She didn’t even turn to look at him, her posture stiff and her eyes still distant. "Bhukh nahi hai," she replied, her voice cold and flat, not showing any sign of interest.

Akshat paused, the weight of her words hanging between them. He moved a little closer, trying to bridge the gap. "Khane pe gussa nahi nikalte," he said, his tone a little lighter, attempting to soften the situation.

Amrit, however, remained unmoved, her back still facing him. "Bola na bhukh nahi hai," she repeated, her words sharp, her back to him like an impenetrable wall.

Akshat sighed in frustration but refused to give up. "Amrit, please thoda sa kha lo," he urged, his voice laced with a quiet plea. His concern for her hunger was too much to ignore.

There was a long pause before Amrit finally turned her head slightly, catching the glimmer of his sincere eyes. She could see that he wasn't going to leave it alone, so she reluctantly stood up and walked towards the dining table. Akshat, a faint smile tugging at his lips, followed her, his eyes never leaving her figure.

He watched as she sat down and took a small piece of roti from the plate. Akshat sat down opposite her, his gaze soft but searching. "Itna kam?" he asked, noticing how little she had taken.

Amrit met his eyes briefly but quickly looked away, almost as if she didn’t want to share her vulnerability with him. "Maine pehle hi kaha tha bhukh nahi," she replied curtly, her voice still holding that stubborn tone. She finished her small portion in silence, her movements slow and deliberate. After washing her hands, she stood up without a word and walked away.

Akshat entered the room. He froze for a moment, noticing Amrit was gathering a pillow and blanket from the bed.

"Ye kya kar rahi ho? Where are you going?" Akshat asked, his voice a mixture of confusion and concern.

Amrit didn’t respond. Her eyes remained focused on her task, and she continued to gather the bedding. Without acknowledging his question, she turned to leave the room.

"What's wrong with you? Yahan kyun so rahi ho!" Akshat's voice rose, his concern turning into frustration. He didn’t understand what was happening, why she was acting like this.

Amrit didn’t spare him a glance as she placed the pillow and blanket on the couch in the living room. Then, without a word, she took his wrist, guiding him firmly but gently towards the couch.

"Sit," she said, her tone calm but firm. Once he sat down, she turned to go back inside the bedroom, closing the door behind her with a soft thud.

Akshat remained seated for a moment, his mind racing, trying to make sense of everything that had just happened. He stared at the closed door, realizing that she had respectfully but decisively thrown him out of the room. It wasn’t a harsh rejection, but it was a clear boundary—a line she had drawn without saying a word.

He sighed deeply, the weight of the silence pressing on him. The couch was large enough for him to lie down, but it didn’t feel comfortable. It felt foreign, cold. He shifted a few times, trying to find a position to sleep, but his mind refused to settle. The guilt, the confusion, and the strange knot in his chest kept him wide awake.

As he stared at the ceiling, his thoughts wandered. He wasn’t understanding why he felt the way he did. Why had he felt that rush of jealousy earlier, seeing Amrit close with someone else? Why had the sight of her laughing with someone else, no matter how innocent it seemed, sent a twinge of unease through him?

He closed his eyes, trying to push away the thoughts, but they lingered. Why had he let himself get so affected by something so simple?

He couldn’t make sense of his emotions, couldn’t understand why his chest tightened every time Amrit was close to someone else, or why seeing her angry made him feel so unsettled.

His thoughts were interrupted by the soft creak of the door opening. Amrit stepped into the living room, her posture stiff, her face still clouded with anger. Her cheeks were puffed out in a way that only heightened her adorably stubborn expression. She walked across the room with purpose, her steps light but determined.

Akshat didn’t open his eyes, pretending to be asleep, unsure of what she was going to do. She stopped just beside him, standing there for a moment, and then, without saying a word, she leaned in. Her lips brushed against his cheek.

Akshat’s heart skipped a beat, and he bit back his chuckle, the warmth of the kiss melting away some of the tension in his chest. But before he could react further, Amrit pulled back, glaring at him and left from there before he could wake up.

Akshat stayed still for a moment, the room now oddly quiet, save for the soft hum of his heartbeat. He opened his eyes just slightly, watching her leave, her footsteps fading away into the distance. The chuckle that had escaped him lingered, and he found himself smiling, despite the stubbornness that still bubbled between them.

He closed his eyes again, but this time, sleep seemed easier. There was something about that soft kiss, the way she’d let him know, even in the midst of her anger, that her affection for him remained.

The room was quiet except for the soft shuffle of feet. Vedant, with a determined look in his eyes, had thrown himself onto the floor, clutching his father Vikram's leg tightly.

"Please, papa, Nandini ko rakh lo PA," Vedant begged again, his voice a mix of urgency and desperation.

Vikram stood there, trying to free his leg, a slight frown on his face. "Arre bhai, pair to chhod mera," he said, shifting his weight to pull his leg out from his son's grip.

But Vedant wasn’t letting go. "Nahi, pehle aap rakho," he said, his words unwavering.

Vikram raised an eyebrow, clearly trying to reason. "Wo already kaam karti hai, mai kaise bol dun, jabardasti job thodi dunga."

Vedant was persistent, his grip tightening on Vikram’s leg. "Nahi, wo sab mai dekh lunga. Maine already Vaibhav uncle se bola hai... Please, papa, aap apni bahu ke liye itna to kar sakte hain."

Vikram sighed, rolling his eyes. "Wo tujhko reject kar chuki hai, self-respect hai ki nahi? Jabardasti peeche pada rahega, kya?"

Vedant shook his head vehemently. "Nahi, nahi hai Self-respect usne jab reject kiya to pata chal raha tha ki wo karna nahi chahti hai… isliye to keh raha hoon, wo aapke saath rahegi to zyada der hamare ghar aur office rahegi, aur mai zyada time uske aas paas reh paunga taaki mai pata laga sakun ki reject kyun kiya."

Vikram, unable to argue against Vedant’s logic, took a deep breath, clearly frustrated. "Pair to chhod," he said once again, though his tone had softened.

"Nahi, pehle bolo Haan," Vedant insisted, now sitting up but still holding on to his father's leg.

Vikram exhaled deeply, his resolve cracking. "Acha thik hai, agar Nandini mere paas aati hai to mai usse as PA appoint kar lunga."

The moment the words left Vikram’s mouth, Vedant shot up from the floor, his face lighting up with excitement. He rushed to his father, wrapping his arms around him in a tight hug.

"I love you, papaaaaa!" Vedant exclaimed, his voice full of joy and relief.

Vikram, though still a bit exasperated, chuckled softly as he patted Vedant’s back. "Haan, haan, ab mujhe jaane do."

Vedant pulled back, his face beaming with triumph, before he sprinted out of the room, eager to share the good news with his brothers and friend.

Vikram shook his head with a smile.

The office was quiet, the low hum of the air conditioner the only sound filling the space. Nandini sat across from Vaibhav, her fingers nervously playing with the edge of a file. She had been thinking about the proposal for days, and now, she had to confront Vaibhav about it.

"Sir, why do you want me to work with Vikram uncle?" Nandini asked, her voice soft but laced with curiosity.

Vaibhav looked at her, his face serious but kind. He leaned back in his chair, sighing before answering. "Nandini, There’s a woman, a single mother, who wants this job. She’s been asking for a long time, but…mai usse bahot din se reject kar raha tha par Vikram se pata chala ki abhi uske PA ne job se resign kar diya hai isliye mujhe laga ki tum uski PA ke liye apply kar do iss se jada achi job aur salary hai uski.”

Nandini frowned, confusion clouding her expression. "If she’s looking for a job, then why don’t you recommend the position to her?"

Vaibhav hesitated for a moment, the weight of his next words lingering in the air. "I could," he said slowly, "but she doesn’t have the right skills or experience for the PA job. She’s a good worker, but not exactly what Vikram needs."

Nandini’s brow furrowed, the situation growing more complex in her mind. "But if she needs the job so badly, why not recommend her anyway? She could learn on the job."

Vaibhav sighed, clearly troubled by the delicate situation. "Nandini, I understand your point, but this job isn’t something that can be learned on the fly. Vikram needs someone who’s sharp, someone who can keep up with the fast-paced nature of the work. It’s not about giving her a chance, it’s about making sure Vikram’s business runs smoothly."

Nandini was silent for a moment, absorbing everything Vaibhav had said. She could sense the underlying emotion in his voice, a quiet urgency that made her pause. He was doing this for her, for her future, but the prospect of being near Vedant every day… it made her stomach twist.

Nandini agreed with the officer. The hesitation was still there, the fear of facing Vedant too overwhelming. But something in Vaibhav’s words struck a chord with her. She needed a job, needed stability, and this could be the opportunity she had been searching for.

As she stood to leave, Vaibhav watched her go, a heavy heart in his chest. He knew he had lied to her, that his reasons for pushing her toward Vikram had more to do with Vedant than he was letting on. But Nandini deserved happiness, deserved a chance to move past her pain and heal, and maybe, just maybe, being with Vedant every day would help her do that. He couldn’t be sure, but he hoped with all his heart that she would find what she was looking for.

The next morning, Akshat stood in the kitchen, preparing breakfast for Amrit. The aroma of freshly cooked parathas filled the air, but as he turned to set the table, he saw her grab her bag and head for the door.

“Amrit, breakfast—”

“I’m getting late,” she said curtly, walking out without sparing him a glance.

Akshat sighed deeply, guilt weighing heavily on his shoulders. “I shouldn’t have done that,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Kuch khaya bhi nahi usne… kal raat bhi kam khayi thi.”

At college, Akshat entered the lecture hall, his usual confident demeanor slightly dimmed. He noticed a peon standing at the door, balancing several large boxes.

“Students,” Akshat began, clearing his throat, “I’ve checked your test papers, and I must say, you all have done great. So, I thought of giving you a treat for your hard work.”

He motioned for the peons to distribute the boxes, revealing freshly baked pizzas.

The room buzzed with excitement as the aroma of cheese and spices filled the air. Students eagerly opened the boxes, their chatter growing louder. Akshat’s eyes, however, were fixed on Amrit, who sat quietly in her seat, flipping through her notes.

“Amrit, ye toh tera favorite pizza hai!” Vidya exclaimed as she opened the box in front of her friend.

Amrit glanced at it but shook her head. “Mujhe nahi khana,” she said firmly.

“Arre, khaa le na,” Vidya urged. “Sab kha rahe hain. Accha nahi lagta.”

Amrit hesitated for a moment, her gaze flickering toward Akshat, who stood at the front of the room, pretending to be engrossed in his clipboard. She sighed and reluctantly picked up a slice.

As she took her first bite, Akshat allowed a small, relieved smile to escape. Finally.

Vidya, oblivious to the silent exchange, leaned closer. “Vaise, tu abhi tak gussa hai kya sir se?” she asked curiously.

“Toh kya karun? Maine unse puch ke hi participate kiya tha na,” Amrit replied, her voice carrying a tinge of frustration.

Vidya frowned. “Haan, but sir ne pizza bheja hai. Tera favorite. Maybe he’s trying to make up for it?”

Amrit didn’t respond, but the faintest twitch of her lips hinted at her softening resolve. Akshat, still observing from the distance, felt a glimmer of hope.

Nandini sat in her apartment, staring at the phone in her hand. The screen lit up with a name she had hoped to avoid for a little longer, Vikram uncle. Her fingers hovered over the screen, her heart racing. She knew what this call was about.

Taking a deep breath, Nandini answered.

"Hello, Vikram uncle," she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

"Nandini beta, how are you?" Vikram’s voice was warm and welcoming, as always, but there was an undercurrent of expectation. "Listen, I need you to come over to the office tomorrow. I’ve arranged everything for you. You can come by my house, and I'll have the necessary documents ready for you to sign. You’ll join from tomorrow, and the receptionist will show you everything you need to get started."

Nandini hesitated. She had known this day would come, but the thought of facing Vedant every day made her stomach churn. She had told herself she wasn’t ready to confront him yet. But she needed this job. She needed stability.

"Okay, I’ll be there," she said softly, though she didn’t feel entirely convinced. "Thank you, Vikram uncle."

After the call ended, Nandini sat in silence for a moment, her mind spinning. Her decision was made. There was no turning back now.

The next day, Nandini arrived at Vikram’s house, her heart thudding in her chest. She rang the doorbell, and a few moments later, the door swung open. Vikram greeted her with a warm smile, his expression welcoming but with a hint of authority.

"Come in, Nandini," he said, stepping aside for her. "Everything’s ready. Let’s get you settled."

Vikram led her to the hall "These are your joining documents. Take a look and sign them. From tomorrow, you’ll be working as my PA. I’m sure you’ll fit in just fine."

Nandini took a deep breath, scanning the documents. She signed her name without hesitation, knowing this was her only chance at stability. She handed them back to Vikram with a small, grateful smile.

"Thank you for giving me this opportunity," she said softly.

Vikram nodded, his eyes filled with pride. "I’m glad you accepted, Nandini. I’m sure you’ll do well here. And don’t worry about anything. You’ll have support."

As she turned to leave, her eyes caught a familiar figure sitting at a sofa across the room.

Vedant.

He looked up from the papers in front of him, his face carefully neutral as he noticed her. His posture was stiff, his expression unreadable, but the slight glimmer in his eyes betrayed his happiness. He was pretending to focus on an important file, but Nandini could see through it. He was trying to act normal, his expressions were enough to tell he was excited and happy.

Nandini felt a wave of unease wash over her, but she quickly pushed it aside. This was her job now. She had to focus on that.

She gave him a polite nod, trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach, and made her way outside of the apartment.

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