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After dinner, Akshat returned to the room, his shoulders slightly slumped from the day's chaos. He opened the door quietly and saw Amrit sitting at her desk, her brows furrowed as she focused on her laptop screen. She was massaging her temple absentmindedly, her face a mix of concentration and frustration.

"So jao, it's late," Akshat said gently, leaning against the doorframe.

Amrit looked up briefly but returned her attention to the screen. "Nahi... I’m searching for some topics I need to select for my research," she replied, her voice carrying a hint of fatigue.

Akshat sighed and walked over, pulling out the chair beside her and sitting down. "Show me," he said, his tone soft yet firm, as if to say he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

Amrit hesitated for a moment before turning the laptop toward him. "I’ve shortlisted a few areas, but I’m not sure what’s good enough,” she admitted, running her fingers through her hair in frustration.

Akshat scanned the screen, his eyes narrowing in thought. "Accha calm down first. Let’s break it down. Your research should reflect originality and also contribute something significant to the field.”

He pointed at one of her shortlisted topics. "What’s this? 'Feminist perspectives in 19th-century literature'?"

Amrit nodded. "Yes, but it feels too overdone. I mean, it’s important, but hasn’t everyone already explored this?"

"True, but you can refine it. Instead of just looking at feminist perspectives, how about focusing on something more niche, like 'The intersection of feminism and gothic literature in the works of Mary Shelley and Emily Brontë'? It’s specific, combines two significant movements, and could allow you to explore untapped connections," Akshat suggested.

Amrit’s eyes lit up. "That actually sounds really interesting.”

Akshat smiled, noticing her enthusiasm. "And if you’re interested in something closer to your own voice, how about 'The evolution of Indian women’s identity in contemporary English literature'? You could study authors like Jhumpa Lahiri, Anita Desai, or even newer voices in Indian literature."

She looked at him, her eyes wide with hope, as she hesitantly asked, "Aap mere guide banenge?"

Akshat hesitated for a moment before leaning back in his chair, sighing softly. "I’m too busy for this, Amrit. Aur possible hota toh... I would have chosen another group."

Amrit’s mouth fell open in shock, and she stared at him in disbelief. "Kyun??" she demanded, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes at him.

"Wo... aise hi," Akshat mumbled, clearly avoiding her gaze.

Her expression darkened as she stepped closer, anger flashing in her eyes. "Haan, obviously! Arpita ke group ko karenge na? Mujhe kyun hi karenge? Ya phir un ladkiyon ko jo marte rehti hain aapki attention ke liye!" Her voice rose, each word dripping with sarcasm and frustration.

Akshat blinked at her outburst, momentarily stunned. "Arre... ye kya baat hui?" he asked, trying to keep his voice calm. "Aur kahan jaa rahi ho? Topic discuss karna tha na."

But Amrit was too worked up to listen. She turned her back to him, shaking her head. "Jaa ke unse discuss kariye jinko guide karenge!" she snapped before storming off toward the bed, sitting on it with her arms folded in defiance.

Akshat ran a hand through his hair, exhaling deeply. He hated seeing her upset, and he knew she wouldn’t let this go easily. Standing up, he walked over to her and sat beside her on the bed. Gently, he reached out and held her hand, his tone soft and placating. "Please, gussa toh mat ho yaar..."

Amrit didn’t look at him, her lips pressed into a firm line. "Toh aap reason toh bataiye kyun nahi karenge?" she asked without meeting his eyes, her voice quieter but still firm.

Akshat hesitated again, his grip on her hand tightening slightly. He looked down, avoiding her piercing gaze. "Phir kabhi bataunga," he said quietly, as if that would be enough to appease her.

But it wasn’t. Amrit pulled her hand out of his grasp and stood up abruptly. "Haan toh mai bhi phir kabhi baat karungi," she shot back, her tone icy.

Amrit lay on her side, her back turned to Akshat, clutching the blanket tightly in her hands. He sat beside her for a moment, watching her silently, his face etched with guilt and frustration. Unable to bear the distance, he leaned closer and softly said, "Amrit, don’t be like this. I’m trying to explain, but you’re not listening."

She didn’t respond, her silence louder than any words.

Akshat gently placed a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off, pulling the blanket higher. Frustrated but determined, he stood up and walked to her side of the bed. "Okay, fine. If you want to stay angry, I’ll just stay here until you listen," he said, crossing his arms.

Amrit groaned in irritation and sat up abruptly. "Kuch aur nahi sun na, just tell me the reason varna nahi baat karni." she snapped, trying to leave the bed.

But before she could take another step, Akshat grabbed her wrist, a little harder than he intended, and pulled her back. The force sent her stumbling, and she gasped as she fell against his chest. The momentum made them both lose balance, and they landed on the bed, her body pressed against his.

"Akshat!" she exclaimed, her voice a mix of shock and anger as she tried to push herself up.

But his hands instinctively moved to her waist, holding her in place. She froze, her breath hitching as a shiver ran down her spine. His touch wasn’t harsh or forceful; it was steady and grounding, almost as if he didn’t want her to leave.

Their eyes met, and for a moment, the tension between them shifted into something else entirely. His hand moved to her face, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. The gesture was so gentle, so intimate, that her heart skipped a beat.

He let out a soft sigh, his hand still resting on her waist as he continued, "I can’t be your guide, Amrit. Not because mujhe kisi aur ko guide karna hai, par tumhare samne mai kamzor padh jaunga.”

Her brows furrowed as she searched his face for answers. "Kyun?”  she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

He looked into her eyes, his expression serious yet soft. "To be a guide, I need to be strict, professional, and detached. A guide has to give orders, enforce deadlines, and push their students to their limits. They have to be objective, even ruthless at times, to ensure their students achieve perfection. But, I can’t be that with you, Amrit. I can’t be strict with you. Tumhare samne... I will become weak. I care too much about you to treat you like just another student. I’ll falter, and that’s not what you need."

Her lips parted in surprise, but she didn’t say anything, letting him continue.

"I need you to be perfect," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "You deserve to be the best at what you do, and that will only happen if you have a guide who can challenge you, and make you better. I can’t do that. I would never be able to be hard on you the way I should. Instead, I’d end up making it easier for you, and that’s not what you need or deserve."

His words hung in the air between them, and for the first time that evening, Amrit felt her anger melting away. She could see the truth in his eyes, the weight of his words.

"But..." she started, her voice trembling slightly, "I don’t want anyone else to guide me. I want you. I trust you more than anyone."

Akshat smiled faintly, brushing his thumb across her cheek. "And I trust you, Amrit. That’s why I know you’ll do better under someone else’s guidance. You’re strong, capable, and brilliant. You don’t need me to hold your hand. You need someone who can push you to be even greater, and I can’t be that person for you—not in this."

Amrit’s anger had softened, but the lingering tension was still there. She stared at Akshat, her gaze intense, as she tried to suppress the smile tugging at the corners of her lips. He had a mischievous glint in his eyes, and his lips curled into the softest of smiles as he looked at her, sensing the playful shift in her mood.

"Still angry?" Akshat asked, his voice tender and filled with curiosity. His thumb gently brushed her cheek, as if trying to reassure her that everything would be fine.

Amrit nodded, trying hard to maintain her feigned annoyance, but her lips betrayed her, curling ever so slightly. Her eyes sparkled with something unspoken, a mix of affection and playful defiance.

Akshat, noticing the subtle change in her expression, couldn't help but smile wider. It was a smile that made his eyes light up, his entire face softening. He could see through her act now. He cupped her right cheek with his warm hand, his touch gentle but confident, as if he were holding something delicate and precious. Then, slowly, he leaned in and kissed her left cheek softly, his lips barely grazing her skin.

"Now?" he asked, his voice low, almost a whisper, as if his lips were too close to hers to speak any louder.

Amrit blinked in surprise, feeling the warmth of his kiss spread across her cheek. Her heart fluttered at the gentle contact, her feelings for him stirring more intensely than before. She smiled shyly, her gaze dipping downward before she hesitated, then leaned in herself, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. It was the smallest gesture, yet it held so much meaning, a silent exchange of emotions that neither could put into words.

Shaking her head slowly, she whispered, "No..." but her smile said more than her words could. She was still angry, but it was the kind of anger that melted away under the weight of his affection.

Akshat chuckled softly, his laughter warm and full of tenderness, filling the space between them. He looked at her fondly, admiring the way her eyes shone with both playfulness and a deeper connection. There was something about her—her smile, her warmth, the way she looked at him—that made him feel like he could be his true self with her.

She, on the other hand, couldn’t tear her gaze away from him. She had been looking at him for what felt like an eternity, her hand now unconsciously caressing his cheek, the touch light but meaningful. His smile was the one thing she held onto—so precious, so beautiful—that it was like a magnet pulling her in, making her heart beat faster.

In that moment, everything around them faded. There were no distractions, no thoughts racing through their minds. It was just the two of them, in their own world, connected by the simplest yet most profound thing—each other.

Amrit’s eyes, without meaning to, drifted downward, landing on his lips. They were so close now—just a few inches separating them. The soft curve of his lips seemed to beckon her, as if they were speaking to her without words, asking her to take a step closer. She could feel the heat between them rise, a tension she had never experienced before. It was both exciting and nerve-wracking, like standing on the edge of something new, something unknown.

Akshat sensed her shift in focus, the way her gaze dropped to his lips. His own eyes followed hers, drawn to the subtle way her lips parted slightly, and then he met her eyes again, searching for something he wasn’t sure of.

Akshat's thumb lightly caressed the side of Amrit's lips, his touch so gentle, yet it sent an electric shiver through her body. Her breath caught in her throat at the unexpected sensation, her heartbeat accelerating as the softness of his touch lingered on her skin. She couldn't help but lean in slightly, drawn to him like a magnet, a force she had no control over.

Akshat noticed the subtle shift in her posture, the way she closed the small distance between them. His gaze softened as he looked into her eyes, the air around them thick with unspoken words, with something deeper- something neither of them had dared to address before. His lips parted slightly, and his voice, low and hushed, broke the silence.

"Did you really think about kissing me?" he whispered, his breath warm against her lips, his words barely audible.

Amrit felt the flush of warmth spread across her face, her cheeks turning a deep shade of red. She hesitated, her lips trembling slightly. With a shy, almost imperceptible nod, she finally allowed herself to admit.

His heart seemed to skip a beat, and he couldn't pull his gaze away from her, and without thinking, his hand moved to the side of her face, gently guiding her closer.

Amrit's breath faltered as she felt his hand move, pulling her face towards his. She didn't resist-couldn't resist. Their noses touched softly, and a wave of heat washed over her, causing her eyes to flutter closed, and she leaned in ever so slightly, her lips just a breath away from his.

Akshat, too, closed his eyes, his heart hammering in his chest. He could feel her breath on his lips now, the softest sensation, and it felt like an invitation, a silent plea to close the gap.

He felt a strange pull towards her, a magnetic force that he couldn't explain. It wasn't uncomfortable-no, it was the opposite. It was a pull that made him feel more alive than ever before, a strange attraction he had never felt with anyone else.

Their breaths mingled, slow and shallow, as their lips hovered just inches apart.

. It was going to be the moment she had been waiting for. But then, out of nowhere, a loud, off-key voice burst through the silence, shattering the intimacy between them.

"Dil ne ye kaha hai dil se

Mohabbat ho gayi hai tumse

Mere jaan mere dilbar

Thoda aitbaar kar lo..."

The sound of Nikhil’s enthusiastic yet painfully off-key singing caused both of them to flinch in surprise, their eyes snapping open. Amrit’s face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and irritation. The moment they had been building toward had been stolen—just like that. She looked at Akshat, both of them stunned by the sudden intrusion. A blush spread across his face too, and he was no longer the confident, composed man she had seen just moments ago. He shifted uncomfortably, his usual confidence replaced by a shyness that mirrored her own.

Amrit, clearly upset, stood up, her expression one of annoyance, and she began walking toward the door.

"This guy..." Amrit muttered angrily under her breath, shaking her head.

"Arre, rehne do!" Akshat called after her, a little helpless, knowing full well that once Amrit had set her mind on something, there was no stopping her.

But Amrit didn’t hear him. She was determined to teach Nikhil a lesson, walking swiftly out of the room, her anger fueling her every step. Akshat, now left alone in the room, took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. The sudden interruption had left him shaken, and he smiled shyly to himself, still feeling the lingering heat of their closeness.

Suddenly, Akshat heard raised voices from the hallway—Amrit’s and Nikhil’s. Rolling his eyes, he stood up, rubbing the back of his neck as he made his way to the door, following the sound of their bickering.

Amrit, standing in front of Nikhil’s door, had her arms crossed in a defensive stance, glaring at him.

"Tumse kya matlab hai bhai, har cheez mein naak ghusane chali aati ho! Mujhe chain se rehne do!" Nikhil said, his tone a mix of annoyance and playfulness.

Amrit’s frustration bubbled over. "Haan aur tum sabka chain cheen lo. Ye fate hue speaker jaisi awaz lekar disturb karna hai ham log ko?" she asked, her hands on her hips.

Nikhil's eyes widened in mock indignation. "Excuse me? I am a good singer!" He turned to Akshat, who had just appeared in the hallway. "Dekhiye na, mai toh riyaaz kar raha tha gaane ka, ye dadagiri dikha rahi hai."

Akshat couldn’t suppress a chuckle, but he also felt the need to defuse the situation. "Riyaz kar rahe the ya gaane ka antim sanskaar kar rahe the?" Amrit shot back, a sarcastic edge to her voice. "Aur ye kya time hai riyaaz karne ka?”

"Mera yahi time hai," Nikhil replied, clearly unfazed by the teasing.

"Haan, nishachar logon ka yahi time hota hai," Amrit quipped, still in no mood to hold back.

Akshat rolled his eyes at the back-and-forth. He appreciated their banter, but the timing was...well, not ideal. Stepping outside, he couldn’t help but laugh lightly at the absurdity of it all.

"Shut up!! Bacche nahi ho tum dono, aise ladna band karo," Akshat said, raising his voice just enough to be heard over the ruckus. "Aur Nikhil, stop disturbing, thode kam volume me apna riyaaz karo."

Amrit stood with her arms crossed, glaring at Nikhil, while Akshat was standing just behind her, doing his best to look authoritative—though the slight smile on his face gave away his amusement. The two of them were like a tag team, their interactions effortlessly flowing with the kind of unspoken camaraderie they had built over time.

Nikhil, ever the good sport, raised his hands in mock surrender, finally realizing the futility of his ‘performance.’ "Fine, fine! I’ll lower the volume," he said with an exaggerated sigh. "But one of these days, you two will appreciate my amazing talent," he muttered under his breath, though the smirk on his face told another story.

Amrit, feeling a rush of emotions, lay down on the bed, her head still slightly under the blanket as she tried to hide her flushed cheeks. The intimate moment earlier had caused her heart to race, and now, even the slightest touch from Akshat felt like a spark of electricity, igniting a flutter in her chest..

Akshat lay next to her, unable to resist glancing over at her. She was so beautiful, so innocent in that moment, trying to shield herself from his gaze by pulling the blanket over her head. His eyes softened as he watched her, her little attempt to hide only making him smile. He couldn't help but find the sight of her adorable-her cheeks flushed, eyes hidden, and her body so close to him.

He slowly reached out, his hand resting gently beside hers. His fingers brushed against hers, and he held her hand softly, the tender touch making her breath catch in her throat. The butterflies in her stomach began to dance again, and she couldn't help but squeeze his hand back, the warmth of his touch calming yet exciting her.

He intertwined their fingers, his grip gentle but firm, as if anchoring them both to the moment. He pulled her a little closer, just enough for her to feel his presence without overwhelming her. Amrit hesitated for a moment but then, feeling his warmth, pulled the blanket down from her eyes. Her gaze met his, and she found him smiling at her- genuine, soft, and full of affection.

With a shy smile of her own, she slowly shifted closer, removing the blanket completely, feeling the cool air on her flushed skin as she adjusted herself, turning slightly so that she faced him. Her heart beat faster now as she could feel his presence even more, his proximity sending warmth all over her body.

He caressed her cheek gently with his fingers, his thumb tracing the delicate curve of her jaw. Her eyes fluttered shut at his touch, and his heart skipped a beat as he leaned down slightly, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

"So jao," he whispered, his voice low and soothing, as though he was trying to bring her comfort, to let her know that everything was okay.

Amrit felt the warmth of his words and the tenderness in his voice wrap around her like a blanket. She closed her eyes, feeling at peace for the first time in a long while. The rhythm of his breathing and the warmth of his chest beneath her head made her feel safe and cherished.

Vedant lay in his bed, staring up at the ceiling, but all he could hear were Nandini's words echoing in his mind, haunting him. The more he thought about it, the heavier the guilt weighed on his chest. His stomach twisted with a mixture of regret and self-loathing. How could he have done that to her? How could he have lied to her like that?

He cursed himself for being so weak, for letting fear and insecurity cloud his judgment, for manipulating her when she had opened up to him so completely.

His hands gripped the pillow beneath him, his fingers digging into the fabric as if it could somehow ease the ache that had settled in his chest. He could imagine her face, the hurt, the disappointment in her eyes when she realized what he had done. And then it hit him—she will hate me now. The thought felt like a punch in the gut. Nandini, the woman who had always shown him so much care and trust, would never forgive him for this.

He groaned softly and pressed his palms to his face, trying to block out the storm of emotions swirling inside him.

“What have I done?”

The words escaped his lips in a broken whisper, as if hoping that somehow by saying them, he could erase the damage he’d caused. But no amount of wishing could take it back. He had manipulated her into a situation she hadn’t deserved, and now the consequences were all too clear.

His mind wandered to the night when she had shared pieces of her painful childhood with him. He remembered her quiet voice as she spoke of how she had learned to protect herself, how trust had never come easy for her.

Tears pricked at his eyes, and his throat tightened as the realization of the full weight of his betrayal sank in. He could feel the rawness of her pain as if it were his own. His chest tightened, his breath shallow and uneven, as he thought about what she must have gone through all those years, and how he had been one more person to break her.

“She must have been so alone,” he thought, his heart breaking at the thought of her childhood and everything she had endured.

The morning light seemed too bright, too unforgiving as Vedant stood outside Nandini’s apartment, his hand trembling slightly as he reached for the doorbell. His heart raced, the guilt still heavy on his chest. He knew he had no right to ask for her attention, no right to demand anything from her after everything he had done. But there was no other choice. He needed to make things right.

He rang the doorbell, the sound echoing in the quiet hallway. His fingers curled into fists as he waited, and when the door finally creaked open, his breath caught in his throat.

Nandini stood there, her face unreadable, her eyes colder than he had ever seen them. For a brief second, their gazes met, but before he could even speak, she stepped back, beginning to close the door.

"Nandini, please, please hear me once," Vedant pleaded, stepping forward to block the door, his heart pounding in his chest. He wasn’t sure what he expected, but he wasn’t prepared for the sharp pain that shot through his hand as it got caught between the door and the wall.

His breath hitched at the unexpected pain, but his mind was still focused on her. He needed to make her listen.

Nandini’s eyes widened as she noticed the injury, and the door froze in its tracks. The moment she saw the blood trickling from his hand, her expression shifted from frustration to worry.

“Oh my God!” she gasped, quickly opening the door fully and reaching out to grab his hand. “Shit! I’m so sorry…”

She tugged him inside, her hands gently holding his injured one, her touch soft and careful. He could feel the coolness of her fingers against his skin, a sharp contrast to the burning heat in his chest.

“Chalo, I’ll clean the wound,” she said, her voice soft but urgent. But Vedant pulled his hand slightly back, his expression intense as he met her gaze.

“It’s not important right now. I want to tell you something… please, hear me,” Vedant said, his voice thick with emotion. He knew his words would hurt her, but there was no other way. The weight of his secrets had been suffocating him, and he couldn’t live with the guilt any longer.

Nandini hesitated for a moment, her gaze flickering between his eyes and the injury. She seemed torn, but eventually, she nodded, still holding his hand carefully.

“I will, but first let me treat this,” she insisted, leading him toward the small living room. She gently urged him to sit on the couch, her hand still lingering on his as if trying to comfort him despite the tension between them.

As she moved away, her steps quick and purposeful, Vedant watched her, his heart heavy with dread. He didn’t deserve her kindness, but he was grateful for it, even if it would soon come to an end.

Moments later, she returned with a bowl of water and a first aid kit. She moved with such efficiency that it almost seemed like she had done this for someone else before, and yet, each action of hers seemed to carry more weight than it should.

She carefully took his hand, her fingers lightly brushing over the wound as she dipped a cloth into the water. As she began to clean the cut, her brow furrowed in concentration, but Vedant noticed something else—a trace of pain in her eyes. The way she focused on the injury, the way her hands trembled slightly… it wasn’t just concern for the wound. She was feeling his hurt, too. And in that moment, his heart clenched with even more guilt.

Her touch was tender, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that she was doing this out of some sort of obligation. She was treating him, but it was as if she was also trying to distance herself emotionally. He could sense it—her heart wasn’t in this the way it had been before.

He watched her in silence, feeling the weight of the unspoken words between them. The truth that he had been avoiding for so long. The truth that, once revealed, would likely drive her away from him forever. He knew it, but he had to say it. He had to.

Vedant stood up from the couch, his legs trembling under him, his breath shallow as he looked at her—his heart screaming, but his mouth unable to find the right words. The weight of what he had done crushed him more than he could handle, and he knew that he couldn’t keep pretending. The lies, the manipulation, the selfishness—it had all led him here, to the woman he had come to love, but whom he had hurt in the worst possible way.

“I… I need to tell you everything, Nandini,” his voice cracked as he spoke. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to steady himself before speaking the words that would tear him apart. “I asked Vaibhav uncle to lie to you, to make you leave your job. I asked him to convince you to join my father’s company so I could be near you. I wanted to be close to you—to understand the reason for your panic attacks, to help you, to lessen your pain.”

He stopped, staring at her. She didn’t speak, didn’t move, but he could feel the walls between them growing higher with each word he spoke. His heart clenched as the silence stretched.

He continued, eyes watering, “But I was selfish. I was so focused on getting closer to you, on understanding you, that I never stopped to think about how much more pain I was causing you. I thought I was helping, but I’ve only made it worse. I’ve hurt you, Nandini. And I don’t know how to fix this.”

Before he could say another word, a sharp, loud slap echoed in the room. The sting on his cheek was nothing compared to the blow his heart took, and the force of it made his head spin.

Her face was flushed with anger, her eyes burning with betrayal. “How could you, Vedant?” she spat, her voice trembling with emotion. “How could you do this to me? I trusted you… I believed you when you said you wanted to help me, to be there for me. But you—you were only thinking about yourself the whole time. I never thought you could be like him. I thought you were different, but you’re no different. You’re just like every other man who has ever let me down.”

Her voice was filled with rage, her chest rising and falling with each harsh word. "I don’t hate you, Vedant. I hate myself for trusting you. After yesterday… after hearing your words, I thought you were different. But you’re not. You’re just like the rest. A liar, a manipulator, a man who doesn’t care about anyone but himself. I should have known better.”

Vedant’s heart was breaking with each word that left her lips. The pain, the guilt, it was unbearable. He took a step toward her, his hands outstretched, but she quickly pulled away, her eyes flashing with anger.

"You should be ashamed of yourself, Vedant," she continued, her voice steady, but full of venom. "You don’t deserve anyone’s forgiveness. And you certainly don’t deserve my trust. So don’t you dare try to apologize again."

He stood there, crushed under the weight of her words, his hands trembling at his sides. His heart twisted, his stomach ached, but he knew this was the price he had to pay for his mistakes.

“I’m sorry, Nandini,” he choked out, his voice breaking. “I’m so sorry. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but please—please know that I never meant to hurt you. I just… I was so consumed with my own feelings, my own wants, that I didn’t see the damage I was causing. And now… now I don’t know how to make things right.”

He took another step toward her, but she didn’t move, her expression hard as stone. She shook her head, and with a motion so swift, she stood up and grabbed his wrist, pulling him toward the door.

"Enough, Vedant," she said, her voice trembling with emotion. "I don’t want to hear it anymore. I don’t want to see you, I don’t want to feel anything for you anymore." She threw the door open and shoved him outside. “From now on, I don’t want you anywhere near me.”

Vedant stood frozen for a moment, his chest aching with the weight of her rejection. His throat tightened as he tried to find the words to say, but they were stuck, lodged deep within him. He finally nodded, his voice barely a whisper, "I will do what you say, Nandini. I will stay away from you. But… please, just try to forgive me. I swear I never meant to hurt you."

Nandini shook her head fiercely, her eyes filled with tears. "Forgive you?" she asked, her voice sharp. "You don’t even understand, do you? I don’t love you, Vedant. I never did. And I don’t want you to love me either. I don’t want anything to do with you anymore. So stop. Just stop."

Her words hit him like a punch to the gut, but he didn’t retreat. He couldn’t. He loved her, even if she didn’t love him back. And for the first time, he understood the depth of the pain he had caused her.

“I understand, Nandini,” he whispered, his voice breaking. "I’m so sorry for not respecting your boundaries. I was selfish, and I didn’t see it. But… I will forget you. I will try to, even if it means forgetting myself in the process. But please, know this—my love for you will never fade. I know you don’t trust me anymore, and I know I don’t deserve to ask for anything, but I can’t pretend that my feelings for you are gone. They’re not. And I’ll never force you to forgive me, but… I won’t suffocate you anymore. I won’t chase after you."

Nandini’s expression softened, but the hurt in her eyes remained. She took a step back, her breath shaky. "Why can’t you understand, Vedant? I don’t love you. I never did. So stop. Just forget about me. Move on. Please."

He closed his eyes, feeling the full weight of her words crash over him. "I understand," he said quietly. "I apologize for not respecting your decision sooner. I will respect it now. But… if I try to forget you, I’ll forget myself in the process."

His voice cracked as he said the last words, and he knew he couldn’t force her to feel anything for him. He couldn’t make her forgive him, but he would carry the pain of his own mistakes, as he deserved to.

Vedant trudged back into the house, his shoulders heavy with the weight of what had just transpired. He barely acknowledged the sound of the door clicking shut behind him, too lost in his own sorrow to care. As he made his way to the living room, he saw Preeti sitting on the couch, casually flipping through channels on the TV. But the moment she looked up at him, her eyes softened with concern, noticing something in his expression that instantly made her tense.

“Vedant, what happened?” Preeti asked, her voice laced with worry.

He forced a weak smile, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, trying to mask the tears that were threatening to spill. "Nothing, mom," he said, his voice unconvincing.

Preeti wasn’t fooled. She narrowed her gaze and immediately stood up, walking over to him. “Don’t lie to me, Vedant. What happened?” Her tone was firm, the kind of tone she used when she knew something was wrong but had to hear it from him.

Unable to hide his emotions any longer, Vedant felt the dam inside him break. The tears spilled over, and before he knew it, he found himself collapsing into his mother’s arms. “I told her everything mumma..she..she is so hurt—” His voice faltered, breaking under the weight of the words.

Preeti's heart clenched as she held him close, her hands gently soothing his back as he wept into her chest. She made him sit down, guiding him to the floor before gently cradling his head in her lap.

Preeti stroked his hair gently, her face a mixture of sadness and resignation. “I knew this would happen,” she said softly. “I warned you, Vedant. You should have listened. This is exactly what I feared. You tried to control the situation, to manipulate her into doing what you wanted. I saw your father do the same thing to me, and I know how it feels. And I know, I know exactly what it will take for you to even have a chance at her forgiveness, but it’s not going to be easy.”

Vedant's tears flowed freely, his chest heaving with the weight of his regret. “I didn’t mean to hurt her. I just… I just wanted to be close to her. I thought if I understood her, if I could just help, she might trust me again. But now, I’ve lost her. I’ve lost her trust.”

Preeti sighed, her heart heavy with the pain of watching her son in so much anguish. “I understand, Vedant. I know you didn’t mean to hurt her. But this is what happens when you try to make someone feel something they’re not ready to feel. You can’t force love, and you can’t force trust. You see, trust is fragile. Once it’s broken, it’s not something you can just fix with words or actions. It takes time, and most importantly, it takes respect. She trusted you, and now that trust is shattered.”

Vedant's voice broke as he spoke, his words full of guilt and despair. “But I love her,mumma. I love her with everything in me. And I can’t just let her go. I can’t. I can’t forget her. I tried to tell her that, but she… she doesn’t believe me.”

Preeti shook her head, her eyes soft with understanding but firm in her advice. “Of course, you love her. But love isn’t about controlling someone’s actions, Vedant. It’s not about forcing someone to see your love. It’s about showing them, making them feel it, not telling them. Love is not a thing you demand. You can’t manipulate her into loving you, not like this. You have to respect her feelings, her boundaries. She’s been through enough. You can’t keep suffocating her with your own desires.”

She paused, her eyes filled with a deep sadness as she looked down at him, her hand gently brushing his hair from his forehead. “I know what it's like, Vedant. I lived through it with your father. He tried to make me see his love, to make me believe in it, but it never worked. It took him years to even begin to earn back my trust. And even then, it wasn’t easy. You’ve hurt her, son. And you have to understand that you can’t just undo that by saying you're sorry.”

Vedant’s eyes were filled with sorrow, the tears still falling. “But I never wanted to hurt her. I wanted to help her. I wanted to be the one to heal her.”

Preeti’s expression softened. “I know you did. But you did it in the wrong way. You can’t force someone to heal, Vedant. It’s something they have to do on their own, in their own time. And all you can do now is give her space. Let her come to you when she’s ready. But until then, you have to let her go.”

His voice broke again as he whispered, “But I can’t let her go. I love her.”

Preeti’s heart broke for her son. She could see the depth of his love for Nandini, but she also knew that love, no matter how deep, couldn’t heal the wounds he had caused. She looked down at him, her hand gently resting on his head. “I know, beta. I know. But you have to understand. You didn’t want to manipulate her, and I know you didn’t mean to hurt her. But you did. And now, you need to respect her enough to give her the space she needs. Let her decide what she wants. If she can forgive you, she will. But you can’t force that. You can’t rush it.”

Preeti kissed the top of his head, her voice soft and reassuring. “You’ll have to let go, Vedant. Let go of her for now. But that doesn’t mean you’ll stop loving her. Love doesn’t disappear. But it’s time to respect her, to let her find her own way. And if she chooses to come back to you, then you can start again. But it has to be her choice. Not yours. Understand?”

Vedant nodded, tears still glistening in his eyes, but a small sense of peace beginning to settle in. “I will wait.” He whispered.

Preeti let out a deep sigh, her fingers gently stroking Vedant’s hair as his head rested on her lap,”“Now I am feeling like I am seeing my Vedant… because that wasn't the Vedant I raised. The Vedant I knew doesn’t use tricks or manipulation to win someone’s love. The Vedant I raised believes in honesty, respect, and sincerity. And even though you lost your way for a while, I see him now.”

Vedant looked up at her, his eyes red and glassy. “I am sorry Maa.. I did so wrong. Mujhe samjh me nahi aa raha mai itna selfish kaise ban gaya. I have failed you.”

Preeti shook her head firmly, her hands cupping his face as she made him look at her. “No, Vedant. You didn’t fail. Yes, you made a mistake, a big one, but you’ve done something many people don’t have the courage to do. You admitted it. You could have kept lying to her, but you didn’t. You told her the truth, knowing very well that it might ruin everything between you two. That takes courage. That takes love.”

She took a deep breath, her hand resting gently on his head. “You’ve done the hardest part, Vedant. You’ve faced your mistake, owned up to it, and accepted the consequences. That’s not weakness. That’s strength. And that’s the kind of man who deserves to be loved—not because he demands it, but because he loves without conditions.”

Vedant’s tears fell silently as he clung to her words. “But what if she never forgives me, Mom? What if she never comes back?”

Preeti looked at him with a gentle smile, her hand resting on his shoulder. “Then you’ll have to live with that, Vedant. But you’ll live knowing you loved her the right way. You’ll live knowing you let her go because it was what she needed, not what you wanted. And sometimes, that’s what love is—putting someone else’s needs above your own.”

Vedant closed his eyes, his head still resting in her lap as he absorbed her words.

The mall is buzzing with activity as Akshat and Bulbul step inside, walking side by side.

"Ak uncle, aap sabko doubt kalvaoge," Bulbul says, a concerned look on her face.

"Arre nahi, don't worry, aisa kuch nahi hoga," Akshat reassures her, trying to stay calm and composed as they move deeper into the mall.

Meanwhile, Preeti is walking ahead, guiding Nikhil and Amrit toward the suit section. "Nikhil, Amrit ke liye dress choose karo na, achi achi," Preeti says excitedly, before leaving.

"Ye wali achi hai," Nikhil suggests, holding up a sleek black suit.

"Tumse pucha kya maine?" Amrit rolls her eyes, clearly not interested in Nikhil's suggestion.

"Mai bas suggest kar raha tha, varna mar nahi raha tumhare liye dress select karne ke liye," Nikhil replies with an unamused expression.

Preeti comes back to check on their progress. "Kiya pasand?" she asks, eager to know if they've made a decision.

"A... nahi, bas dekh rahe abhi," Nikhil replies, still undecided.

As they continue browsing, Amrit's phone rings. She glances at the screen and sees it's Akshat calling. Her eyes dart toward Preeti, ensuring she doesn’t notice, and she quickly answers the call.

"Haan, Vidya bol," Amrit says, trying to keep the conversation casual.

"Amrit, apne left side mirror ke peeche dekho," Akshat's voice comes through, a hint of mischief in it.

"Ok ok, mai notes bhej dungi," Amrit says, trying to cover up the tension. She ends the call quickly, then casually looks to her left. Her eyes meet Akshat's, and she offers him a subtle smile. Standing with Bulbul, Akshat gives a small nod in acknowledgment.

Just as Amrit continues to pretend everything is normal, Nikhil turns toward her, holding up a new suit. "Ye?" he asks, showing her a bright red suit.

Amrit takes one last look at Akshat before shaking her head and returning her attention to Nikhil. "Ye wala nahi acha hai," she says, putting the red suit back on the rack.

"Okk, to ye," Nikhil says, holding up a beautiful blue suit with delicate embroidery.

"Wow, bahut pyara hai," Anika comments, admiring the suit.

Amrit takes another glance at Akshat, but this time, he shakes his head in disapproval. A small frown forms on her face, but she puts the blue suit down anyway.

"Kya choose kar rahe hain aap... kuch acha kariye," Amrit says, her voice laced with frustration, but she's careful to not let it show too much.

The same pattern continues for a few more minutes. Nikhil picks out a few more suits, but none of them seem to impress Amrit. She keeps glancing toward Akshat, waiting for his approval, but each time, Akshat responds with a firm shake of his head.

"Amrit, itne pyaare suit hain, tum le kyun nahi rahi?" Anika asks, her tone a little puzzled.

"Acha bas, ek do suit aur phir pakka select kar lungi," Amrit replies, trying to avoid any further questioning from Anika.

Anika looks at her for a moment, shaking her head with a smile. Just then, her phone buzzes. It's a message from Vihaan. “Tumhare liye ek dress li hai aao.” She turns to face the mirror, smiling. As she fixes her strands, her eyes drift toward Akshat, who is standing at a distance with Bulbul. Akshat catches her gaze and shakes his head slightly, almost as if signaling her to pay attention.

"Akshat bhaiya," Anika mutters under her breath, a look of confusion crossing her face. She quickly notices Amrit once again rejecting Nikhil's selection.

Nikhil, undeterred, picks up a green suit and offers it to Amrit. She looks at it and raises her eyebrows in Akshat's direction. He still shakes his head in disapproval. Amrit puts the green suit back, clearly frustrated by the situation.

Anika, now more curious than ever, steps forward and picks out a yellow suit with a green dupatta and matching pants. "Amrit, ye kaisa hai?" she asks, holding it up for Amrit to see.

Amrit, without hesitation, looks at Akshat. He grins, giving her an almost imperceptible nod of approval. Smiling to herself, Amrit looks back at Nikhil.

"Bahut pyara hai... dekha, isse kehte hain pasand," Amrit says, her tone light and playful as she hands the suit to Nikhil.

Anika, who has been watching the exchange closely, is shocked. "Ye sab kya ho raha?" she thinks to herself. "Amrit Akshat bhaiya ke pasand ke kapde le rahi hai par Nikhil ki choice bhi to achi thi, par Amrit ko ek bhi suit pasand nahi aaya." She wonders why Amrit keeps looking to Akshat for approval.

"Anika didi, kahan kho gaye?" Amrit asks, breaking her thoughts.

"A... nothing, chalo, ham kuch western dekh rahe hain, tum bhi dekh lo," Anika replies, trying to brush off her confusion.

The group moves toward the next counter, with Anika still processing what she’s just witnessed. Something feels off, but she's not sure what it is yet.

The scene ends as they walk away, leaving Akshat and Bulbul standing in the background, their plan unfolding quietly but effectively.

Anika receives a call from Preeti as she stands near Amrit and Nikhil. She answers quickly.

"Haan, masi," Anika says.

"Un dono ko akele chodh do... Nikhil Amrit ke liye western dress select karega, dono sharamyenge tumhare saamne," Preeti suggests teasingly.

"Acha, aati hoon," Anika replies before disconnecting the call. Turning to Amrit and Nikhil, she says, "Tum dono dekho, mai abhi aati hoon." She leaves the two alone in the store.

Meanwhile, Akshat, standing at a distance with Bulbul, is visibly irritated as he watches Nikhil and Amrit together.

"What the hell! Aise kaise meri patni ke liye aisi dress wo select karega? Mai yahan muh dekhta rahoon? Ye to nahi hone dunga mai!" Akshat mutters angrily.

"Uncle, aap kya karoge?" Bulbul asks, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"Chalo," Akshat says, suddenly picking her up in his arms.

"Arre, what a surprise!!" Akshat's loud and sarcastic voice echoes behind Nikhil and Amrit.

Preeti, Vihaan, and Anika, who are nearby, turn to look in his direction, startled.

"Ye bewakoof beech mein kyun aa jata hai?" Preeti groans softly, frustrated.

"Akshat bhai, aap yahan?" Nikhil asks, confused.

"Apni biwi ki help karne aaya hoon shopping mein," Akshat replies smoothly, his eyes flickering toward Amrit, who tries not to react.

Just then, Preeti, Vihaan, and Anika approach them.

"Akshat bhaiya, aap yahan kya kar rahe hain?" Vihaan asks, clearly curious.

"Arre, wo Bulbul ko ghoomne lekar aaya tha," Akshat answers casually.

"Achaa achaa," Vihaan nods, accepting the explanation.

Anika, however, isn’t convinced. "Par bhaiya, aapne humein nahi dekha kya jo aap inke paas aa gaye?" she asks, her suspicion evident.

"Nahi, agar dekha hota to mai inhe disturb karne kyun aata," Akshat retorts with a smirk.

"Okk okk," Anika says reluctantly, though her eyes linger on him.

"Chalte hain, movie start hone wali hogi. Uske pehle billing karva lete hain," Preeti suggests, steering the group back to their original plan.

"Haan haan... chaliye," Nikhil agrees, following her lead.

"Aap dono chaliye, mai thoda washroom se aati hoon," Amrit says, excusing herself.

The group nods and begins to leave, leaving Amrit and Akshat momentarily alone.

Akshat picks up a lavender gown from a nearby rack and holds it up for Amrit.

"This will look perfect on you," he says softly, his tone filled with warmth.

Amrit smiles, blushing slightly. "Thank you," she murmurs, taking the gown from him.

Meanwhile , Anika stands at a distance, frozen in shock, her eyes wide as she processes the interaction between Akshat and Amrit.

At the Movie Theatre

The group settles into their seats. Preeti, Vihaan, and Nikhil sit together, while Akshat and Bulbul sit near Amrit.

"Bulbul ko Amrit ke paas baithna hai," Akshat announces loudly, making an excuse.

"Really, uncle?" Bulbul whispers, raising an eyebrow at him.

Ignoring her, Akshat shifts Bulbul to his other side and takes the seat next to Amrit. Amrit looks at him, suppressing a smile, while Nikhil remains focused on the movie.

As the movie starts, Akshat leans slightly toward Amrit. "Comfortable?" he asks softly.

"Yes," Amrit replies, her voice barely above a whisper, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks.

Meanwhile, Vihaan tries to hold Anika’s hand, his romantic intentions clear. However, Anika is too distracted, her eyes darting toward Akshat and Amrit. When she sees them exchange a small smile, she instinctively places her hand over her mouth, forgetting about Vihaan completely.

"Anika, kya kar rahi ho?" Vihaan asks, confused.

"Huh? Kuch nahi," Anika says, brushing him off but continuing to glance at Akshat and Amrit, trying to piece things together.

Vihaan slowly inched closer to Anika. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he gently reached for her hand. "Anika," he whispered softly, brushing his fingers against hers.

However, Anika’s attention was elsewhere. Her eyes darted to the row in front of them where Akshat and Amrit were sitting. She watched as Akshat leaned closer to Amrit and whispered something in her ear, causing her to chuckle softly. Anika’s eyes widened, her hand instinctively covering her mouth in shock.

"Anika, udhar kyun dekh rahi?" Vihaan asked, his voice tinged with confusion.

"Kahan mai movie dekh rahi thi," Anika muttered absentmindedly, not even looking at him as her gaze remained fixed on Akshat and Amrit.

Vihaan sighed, clearly frustrated by her lack of attention. Determined to bring her focus back to him, he leaned closer, his lips brushing her ear as he said, "Vaise tumhare liye dress li hai usse pehn na aaj"

"Uh-huh," Anika replied distractedly, her head tilting slightly to the side to get a better view of Akshat and Amrit. She noticed Akshat lightly touching Amrit's arm as they shared another laugh. Anika’s jaw dropped.

Vihaan frowned, annoyed by her indifference. "Anika!" he said a bit louder this time, trying to grab her attention.

"Haan? Kya?" she replied, finally turning to him, but her eyes flickered back to Akshat and Amrit within seconds.

Vihaan clenched his jaw, determined not to give up. He leaned towars her cheek , But just as he moved to kiss her cheek, Anika bent forward, craning her neck to get a better look at Akshat and Amrit. "Unhone abhi haath pakada tha kya ek dusre ka?" she thought.

Vihaan nearly stumbled from his position, now completely exasperated. "Seriously, Anika? Main yahan tumhare saath hoon, aur tum wahan kisi aur par focus kar rahi ho?"

Anika finally turned to him, blinking in realization. "Oh, sorry Vihaan," she said sheepishly. But no sooner had she spoken than Akshat leaned even closer to Amrit, whispering something again that made her smile shyly.

Anika gasped, clutching Vihaan's arm tightly. Vihaan groaned. "Anika, karna kya chahti ho?” He folded his arms, sulking.

"Vihaan, wo…nothing!" Anika said, waving him off as she continued spying on Akshat and Amrit.

Vihaan rolled his eyes and slumped back into his seat. "Romance ka mood tha kharab ho gaya” he muttered.

Anika ignored him entirely, her focus on Akshat, who now placed a hand lightly on Amrit’s shoulder as they exchanged a soft smile.

The movie theater was dimly lit, and a romantic scene was playing on the screen. As the lead couple leaned in for a kiss, Akshat quickly covered Amrit and Bulbul's eyes with his palms.

"Chee!!" Nikhil exclaimed loudly, scrunching his nose in mock disgust.

When the scene ended, Akshat removed his hands from their eyes. Amrit looked at him with a raised eyebrow and leaned closer to whisper, "Tum kya chee kar rahe ho? Aise behave kar rahe ho jaise kabhi kiss nahi kiya apni girlfriend ko."

Nikhil whispering back, "Excuse me, maine abhi tak nahi kiya."

Amrit gave him a skeptical look. "Chal jhoothe... tumhari shakal se hi hawasi lagte ho. Maan hi nahi sakti mai," she whispered, shaking her head dramatically.

"Arre, khud ke andar jo Armaan tapak rahe hain Akshat sir ko lekar, woh mujhe mat thopo," Nikhil shot back, earning a sharp slap on his head from Amrit.

"Arre, tapli kyun maar rahi ho, pagal ho kya?" Nikhil protested, rubbing his head.

"Ek baar aur bakwas karke dikhao, tapli nahi, poora seat utha ke patak dungi!" Amrit threatened in a low voice, glaring at him. "Aur itni overacting karne ki zarurat nahi hai."

"Overacting ? Mai maar ke dikhaun?" Nikhil challenged, narrowing his eyes.

"Maar lo, aise behave kar rahe ho jaise pata nahi kitni lagi ho," Amrit retorted, shaking her head in exasperation.

In response, Nikhil raised his hand and lightly slapped the back of her head.

"Aaa!" Amrit hissed, rubbing her head. Without hesitation, she punched Nikhil's arm.

"Arre! Dobara kyun maari?" Nikhil asked angrily.

"Because you deserve it!" Amrit shot back, and before anyone could stop them, the two started smacking and hitting each other in their seats, earning gasps and amused looks from the other people in the theater.

Meanwhile, Anika was completely bewildered. Yeh dono kya kar rahe hain? she thought, her eyes darting between Amrit and Nikhil. “Nikhil to Amrit ka husband hai na? Phir yeh dono bhai-behen jaise kyun behave kar rahe hain? Aur Akshat bhaiya aur Amrit!!!

A man sitting in front of them couldn’t take it anymore and turned around. "Aap log chup rahenge? Hume disturb ho raha hai," he snapped. Then, noticing Akshat and Bulbul watching silently, he asked, "Ye aapke saath hain?"

Before Akshat or Bulbul could respond, both shook their heads vigorously, signaling, Bilkul nahi!

"Sorry, sorry," Amrit said sheepishly, waving at the man as he turned back to watch the movie.

But the moment he turned, Amrit leaned toward Akshat and pinched his thigh hard.

"Aouuuu!" Akshat yelped in pain, grabbing his thigh and glaring at her. "Amrit, yeh kya tha?"

Amrit smirked “Abhi yaad aaya ki aapke sath kon hai kon nahi.”

Anika shook her head in confusion, still trying to piece together the bizarre dynamics. "Mujhe bhi nahi pata… yeh sab kuch ajeeb lag raha hai," She thought, her eyes narrowing at the trio.

Kavya was in the kitchen, her hands mechanically rolling out cookie dough while her mind swirled with unease.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang, startling her out of her trance. She quickly wiped her hands on a kitchen towel, her heartbeat quickening. Gathering herself, she made her way to the door and opened it. Standing there, with his usual warm smile and a casual demeanor, was Krishiv, holding packets of chips and chocolates.

“Hi!” Krishiv greeted cheerfully, his grin lighting up his face.

“H-hi,” Kavya replied, forcing a smile to mask her anxiety.

Krishiv’s smile faltered as he noticed the tension in her eyes and the way her fingers fidgeted at her sides. “All good?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.

“Haan haan, sab theek hai,” Kavya replied quickly, her tone a little too rushed to be convincing.

Krishiv tilted his head, his brows knitting together in doubt. He didn’t press further, but his eyes stayed on her for a moment, trying to read what she wasn’t saying. Then, with a playful tone, he asked, “Won’t you call me inside, or are you planning to keep me standing at the door?”

Kavya bit her tongue, realizing her lapse in manners. “Oh! I’m sorry. Please, come in,” she said, stepping aside and opening the door wider.

“Thank you,” Krishiv replied, stepping in and glancing around the cozy apartment. He placed the packets of chips and chocolates on the dining table and turned to her. “Where’s Bulbul? I brought her favorite chocolates.”

“She… um… she went to watch a movie with Nandini, Anika, and Amrit,” Kavya explained, trying to sound casual as she busied herself rearranging the already neatly arranged cushions on the sofa.

“And you didn’t go with them?” Krishiv asked, his voice soft but curious.

Kavya shrugged her shoulders, avoiding his gaze. “I wasn’t in the mood,” she said, keeping her tone light, though it was clear she was holding something back.

Krishiv studied her for a moment, his lips pressing into a thin line. He could tell something was bothering her.

“Cookies?” he asked, sniffing the air. “Are you baking? They smell amazing!”

Kavya nodded, grateful for the change in topic. “Yeah, I thought of making some for Bulbul. She loves them.”

A glint of mischief sparked in his eyes. “Can I join?” he asked, his tone light and playful.

“Ji? Aap?” she asked, turning to him with wide eyes, unsure if he was joking or serious.

“Haan, main!” he said with a nod, grinning. “I won’t disturb you, pakka. Main toh bas dekhunga ki cookies kaise banti hain. Maine kabhi dekha nahi.”

Kavya raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching into a faint smile. “Arre, nahi, itna interesting nahi hai,” she replied, shaking her head slightly. But deep down, she felt a pang of anxiety. What if Prakash called again while Krishiv was here?

Krishiv noticed her hesitation and decided to tease her. “Saaf saaf boliye na, Kavya, that you don’t want me to be here,” he said, dramatically feigning hurt. “Chaliye, bye,” he added with a small pout and turned as if to leave.

Kavya let out a soft sigh, partly exasperated, partly amused. Hearing her sigh, Krishiv stopped mid-step and turned back with a triumphant grin. “Chaliye,” he said, grinning from ear to ear like a little boy who just got his way.

Kavya blinked at him, confused. “Maine haan kab bola?” she asked, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow.

“Arre, aapne sigh kiya na,” he said confidently, pointing at her. “That’s basically you saying yes.”

Kavya chuckled at his logic, shaking her head. Before she could say anything, Krishiv had already made his way into the kitchen, looking around like an excited child exploring a new place.

"Main kya help karun?" he asked, shrugging off his blazer and draping it neatly over a chair. Then, he rolled up his sleeves, his movements casual but deliberate.

She hesitated for a moment before giving in. “Yeh flour utha ke batter mein daal do,” she instructed, pointing to the bowl.

“As you order ma'am,” he said, picking up the flour with enthusiasm. He poured it into the batter, but in the process, managed to get some on his hands and a tiny puff of flour on his shirt.

Suddenly, his phone rang. He looked at Kavya, raising his flour-covered hands. “Bulbul ki mummy, please help,” he said, nodding toward the phone in his pant pocket.

Kavya’s eyes widened. “Main?” she asked, unsure.

“Haan, aap. Koi aur toh yahaan hai nahi,” he said with a teasing grin.

Reluctantly, she reached into his pocket and pulled out the phone. The screen flashed Alya’s name.

“Alya?” she asked, handing him the phone.

“Speaker pe rakhiye,” he said, gesturing with his head as he cleaned his hands with a cloth.

Kavya complied and pressed the speaker button. “Haan, Alya bolo,” Krishiv said casually.

“Kya bolo?” Alya’s cheerful voice rang out. “I just got free from work. Chalo na, let’s have ice cream from your café!”

“Ice cream?” Krishiv repeated, his tone curious. His eyes flickered to Kavya, who was pretending to be engrossed in her task. Her hands moved mechanically, but he noticed the faint tension in her shoulders, the way she clenched her lips tightly.

“Haan, chalo. Meet me in 15 minutes,” Alya said cheerfully.

Krishiv looked at Kavya for a moment, observing how her hands faltered slightly as she continued mixing the batter.

“Aaj nahi,” he said firmly, keeping his eyes on Kavya. “Some other time, Alya. I’m busy today.”

“Ohh… alright,” Alya replied, a hint of disappointment in her voice.

Krishiv tilted his head toward Kavya, signaling her to disconnect the call. She did so silently, her heart beating a little faster.

Krishiv carefully pressed the dough into the mould, his eyes lit up with childlike excitement. “Ye wohi mould hai na? Which I brought for you?” he asked, grinning as he recognized it.

“Haan,” Kavya replied with a small nod, glancing at him.

"Can I try once?" he asked eagerly, looking at her like a kid waiting for permission.

She couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm and nodded. "Of course."

Krishiv began working with the mould, his concentration intense as if it were a serious task. Kavya, watching him for a moment, hesitated before asking, “Aap gaye kyun nahi uske sath?”

“Kyun?” he asked immediately, looking up at her. “Aap mujhe bhagana chahti hain? I’m troubling you na?”

“Arre, aisa kuch nahi hai,” she said quickly, shaking her head.

“Aisa hi hai,” Krishiv insisted, narrowing his eyes playfully. “Vihaan bhi kehta hai ki I trouble you a lot. Akshat toh ye bhi kehta hai ki, usse age me bada hone ke baad bhi, I behave like his younger brother. But what can I do? I’m still young by heart, na?”

Kavya chuckled at his exaggerated tone, and he smirked, enjoying her reaction.

“Un dono ko na actually jalan hoti hai mujhse,” Krishiv continued, straightening his posture dramatically. “Iss age me unse zyada handsome aur fit jo hun. Include Vedant too—usse bhi zyada handsome hun main. You know, I’m so perfect. Aapne dekha hai kya kabhi mere jaisa handsome, charming insaan?”

Kavya shook her head, biting her lip to suppress her laugh. “Nahi dekha,” she said sarcastically, playing along.

“Haan! Kahan hi dekhoge?” he said with mock seriousness. “Bhagwan ne mujhe banane ke baad woh mould tod diya tha, taaki mere jaisa koi aur ban na jaye. Aur jo mould toot gaya tha, usse unhone unn teeno ko bana diya—tabhi teeno defective piece hain.”

Krishiv burst into laughter at his own joke, his laughter echoing through the kitchen. Kavya tried to keep a straight face but failed miserably, and soon, she was laughing loudly too.

Her laughter was carefree, ringing out like a melody, and Krishiv paused, watching her with a soft smile. She had thrown her head back, her shoulders shaking as she laughed without restraint. It was a sight he hadn’t seen before—her walls momentarily down, her worries replaced with genuine joy.

As her laughter subsided, Kavya wiped the corner of her eyes and took a deep breath, only to notice Krishiv staring at her. She raised her eyebrows. “Kya hua?” she asked, still catching her breath.

“It sounded so pretty,” he said, his tone quieter now.

“What?” she asked, her forehead creasing in confusion.

“Your laugh,” Krishiv replied with a small smile. “Pehli baar suna na. Haste raha kariye… paise thodi lagte hain.”

Kavya felt her cheeks warm, and she looked down, unable to meet his gaze.

The doorbell rang, breaking the light atmosphere of the kitchen. Kavya glanced at the clock and then at Krishiv. “Tanya hogi,” she said, her voice casual as she wiped her hands and stepped out of the kitchen.

Krishiv chuckled as he recalled their earlier conversation. “Wahi Tanya jisme dimag thoda khali sa hai?” he teased, grinning.

Kavya let out a small laugh. “Haan, wahi.” She shook her head and walked toward the door while Krishiv continued to focus on the cookies, completely unaware of the storm brewing outside the kitchen.

When Kavya opened the door, the ground seemed to vanish beneath her feet. Her heart froze, her breath hitched, and her hands trembled as she stared at the man who haunted her nightmares—Prakash.

He stood there with a devilish smirk, his presence suffocating and oppressive. Before she could react, he leaned closer, his voice a sinister whisper in her ear. “Hello, darling,” he said mockingly, his words dripping with malice.

Kavya’s body froze, her mind racing with fear. She felt paralyzed, unable to step back or push him away.

“Tumhe kya laga, tum mujhse chup jaogi?” Prakash’s voice turned colder as he took a step forward. “I told you, didn’t I? I will snatch your happiness… our daughter. Call her. Let her see her father.”

Kavya’s lips quivered as she shook her head, unable to form words.

“Call her!” he demanded louder this time, and she shook her head again, her silent defiance angering him further.

Without warning, Prakash grabbed her wrist, twisting it painfully and pulling her closer. Kavya winced, but her shock and fear rendered her unable to resist.

“Tumhari itni himmat ki—” Prakash started, but his words were cut off when a strong hand grabbed his wrist and yanked it away from Kavya.

Startled, both Prakash and Kavya turned to see Krishiv standing between them, his face dark with anger. His usual playful demeanor was gone, replaced by a protective ferocity.

Krishiv glared at Prakash, his grip tightening as he twisted the man’s wrist, forcing him to step back in pain. “Don’t you dare harm her,” Krishiv growled, his voice low and threatening.

Prakash smirked despite the pain, trying to maintain his bravado. “What if I did?” he sneered.

“Try it,” Krishiv challenged, stepping forward, his body shielding Kavya completely.

Prakash, refusing to back down, raised his hand to slap Kavya. Before his hand could reach her, a sharp punch landed on his face, followed by a kick to his stomach. The force sent him sprawling to the floor, groaning in pain.

Kavya gasped, her fear momentarily overtaken by shock as she watched Krishiv’s swift and decisive actions.

Krishiv stepped closer to Prakash, his voice dangerously calm. “See, there are so many people in this building,” he said, gesturing toward the door. “All I have to do is shout, and they’ll make sure you don’t recognize yourself when they’re done with you. So, you better leave and never come near her again. I don’t want to create a scene here, but let me make it clear—I won’t let you go so easily next time.”

Prakash slowly got to his feet, wiping blood from the corner of his lip. “Huh! You’ve got a new savior now?” he spat venomously, glaring at Kavya. “You’ll pay for this. I’ll take my daughter back, no matter what.”

“Get lost,” Krishiv snapped, his voice sharp and unwavering.

Prakash shot one last glare at Kavya before storming out, slamming the door behind him.

Krishiv turned to Kavya, his heart sinking at the sight of her trembling near the door. Without a word, his hand reached out, gently caressing her hair in an attempt to soothe her.

“Sab thik hai,” he said softly, his voice steady and comforting. He guided her by the hand, leading her to the sofa. She sat down hesitantly, still shaking, and he quickly poured a glass of water, offering it to her.

“H-He came back…” she whispered, her voice breaking, her eyes fixed on the door as if she expected Prakash to reappear at any moment.

“Shh,” Krishiv hushed her gently, kneeling beside her. “Sab thik hai. He can’t do anything. I won’t let him.” His voice was firm, but the softness in his tone didn’t waver. He continued to caress her hair, trying to ease her panic.

But Kavya didn’t calm down. Her breathing was uneven, her words spilling out in a mix of fear and anguish. “He…he will take Bulbul with him…usne pehle bhi kaha tha…he will…” Her voice cracked, and her tears fell uncontrollably.

Krishiv moved closer, sitting beside her now, his hand never leaving her shoulder. “Aisa kuch nahi hoga,” he said, his tone low but resolute.

But Kavya shook her head vehemently, her panic escalating. “He…he will beat her…he will slap her…he will torture her…” Her words came out in a rush, her hands clutching the edge of her dupatta tightly. “She’s too small…she can’t tolerate him…his torture…she can’t…”

Krishiv’s chest tightened as her sobs grew louder. “Please calm down” he said, his voice a mix of urgency and care. “Nothing will happen. I promise.”

But his words seemed to fall on deaf ears as she continued to spiral. “He will burn her hands…” she cried, her voice trembling. “He will beat her…he will starve her…like he did to me…”

Hearing her words, Krishiv felt a surge of anger mixed with deep sorrow, but he pushed his emotions aside. He needed to be her anchor now. Without hesitation, he cupped her face in his hands, gently forcing her to look at him.

Krishiv's gaze sharpened as he watched Kavya spiral deeper into her fears. Her trembling hands and broken voice tugged at his heart.

“Listen to me,” he said firmly, trying to ground her.

“He will…he will try to…” she stammered, her voice laced with panic.

“LISTEN TO ME!” Krishiv’s voice rose suddenly, cutting through her frantic murmurs. The authority in his tone jolted her, breaking her trance-like terror. Her wide, tear-filled eyes locked onto his, and for a moment, there was silence.

“Kuch nahi hoga Bulbul ko aur na hi aapko,” he said, his voice softer now but filled with conviction.

“But…he said…” she began, her voice quivering.

“I am saying na,” Krishiv interrupted, his eyes unwavering. “I won’t let anything happen to you both. Mai hun na. Just trust me.”

She shook her head slightly, her voice cracking as she whispered, “You don’t know him…he…he’s a monster. He…he can do anything. He is…he…” Her words faltered as memories of past torment overwhelmed her, suffocating her. She clutched her chest, choking on a sob as she tried to breathe.

Krishiv’s expression softened with concern. Without hesitation, he closed the gap between them and wrapped his arms around her. His embrace was firm yet gentle, his hands soothingly rubbing her back. “Shh…sab thik hai,” he murmured in her ear. “Sab thik hai. Main hun. He won’t touch you. He won’t touch Bulbul.”

Kavya clung to his shirt like it was the only thing keeping her grounded, her sobs muffled against his chest. The warmth of his hug, combined with his calming voice, began to chip away at the icy grip of her panic.

“Pakka, kuch nahi hoga na?” she asked in a small, broken voice, lifting her tear-streaked face to look at him.

Krishiv pulled back slightly, just enough to meet her gaze. His eyes held a quiet but powerful promise as he replied, “Bilkul. Kuch bhi nahi hoga. Not while I’m here.”

Kavya took a long, shuddering breath as she slowly wiped away the last remnants of tears from her face. She had calmed down, but the memories were still there, haunting her. She pulled back from Krishiv, her hand unconsciously moving to fix her hair, which had stuck to his shirt. Her fingers trembled as she quickly tucked it behind her ear, trying to regain composure.

"He is Bulbul's father?" Krishiv's voice broke through her thoughts, and for a moment, she hesitated. The weight of his words dragged her back into the abyss of the past.

"Haan," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper, before she looked away. "My mother passed away when I was twelve. My father... he... he forced me to marry the son of his business partner when I was nineteen. It was for a deal." Her voice cracked slightly, but she forced herself to keep going.

Kavya paused for a moment, her hand resting on the glass of water Krishiv had given her. Her thoughts drifted back to the time when everything had fallen apart. The memory still felt fresh in her heart, the pain, the helplessness, the determination to escape. She took a deep breath and continued.

"I remember the night Bulbul was born... the pain was unbearable, but the moment I held her, everything felt right. I thought I had something to fight for, someone who would make everything worth it." She glanced at Krishiv, her eyes filled with sorrow and strength. "But he... he wasn't ready to let go. He refused the divorce, and one night, he trapped me in his room. He said he would kill Bulbul if I ever left him. I thought I was going to lose everything, my daughter... my life."

Krishiv’s grip tightened around her hand as he listened intently, his heart aching for her. He wanted to reach out, to comfort her, but he allowed her to speak, knowing this was a moment she needed to share.

"But then..." Kavya’s voice broke for a second, her eyes clouded with the memory of the dark night. "Someone saved me. I don’t know who he was. He came out of nowhere, like an angel. He stopped Prakash, and with his power, he helped me get the divorce. He... he gave me an address for an NGO in Mumbai. He helped me get a job, and then... I never saw him again."

Krishiv leaned forward, his voice soft but insistent. "Who was he,? Did you ever find out?"

Kavya shook her head slowly. "I never did. It was like he vanished into thin air. But I’m sure he was an angel, sent to guide me out of that hell."

Krishiv’s chest tightened. He couldn’t imagine the terror she had gone through, the suffocating situation she had lived in. His mind raced with questions, yet all he could do was hold her hand gently and offer his silent support.

"You’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met. I know what I heard is just half of the things you endured." Krishiv said, his voice raw with emotion. "What you've been through... I can't even begin to comprehend. But don't let anyone break you. Not now, not ever. You’ve come so far, and you're doing so much better."

Kavya smiled faintly, though her eyes were still tinged with the remnants of her past pain.

Before Krishiv could respond, his phone rang. He looked at the caller ID and sighed, seeing it was an urgent meeting request. He hesitated, torn between the need to be with her and his professional responsibilities.

"I have to take this," he said reluctantly. "There’s an urgent meeting, and I tried to reschedule it, but it’s... important."

Kavya smiled reassuringly, giving him a small nod. "Aap please jaiye. It’s important. I’ll be fine now."

Krishiv looked at her for a moment, still unsure, but he knew he couldn’t ignore the urgency of the call. "But you..." He faltered, not wanting to leave her side, even for a moment.

"I’m fine now," she said, her voice steady and calm. "Go ahead. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be okay."

He stared at her, his worry still evident in his eyes. "Don’t hesitate to call me if anything happens, okay?"

Kavya gave him a soft nod. "I will.”

As Krishiv stepped outside the building, his mind still preoccupied with the conversation he had just left behind, the weight of everything he had heard lingered on his shoulders. His thoughts swirled with anger and frustration, and as he walked toward his car, his gaze shifted to the security guard standing at the entrance.

Krishiv's footsteps quickened as he neared the guard, the irritation bubbling up inside him. His brow furrowed in frustration, his jaw tightening.

"You!" Krishiv called out sharply, his voice carrying a harsh edge. "You let someone in without checking who they are? Without asking for permission? Why did you allowed that man to meet Kavya?"

The security guard looked taken aback by the sudden scolding but quickly regained his composure. "Sir, he said he was a relative of Ms. Kavya. He insisted it was fine."

Krishiv’s eyes narrowed, his anger only intensifying. "So, what, just because he says he's a relative, you believe him without confirming anything?" His voice rose with frustration, echoing through the entrance. "It’s your job to verify, not assume. You should have called and checked with Kavya first before letting anyone in."

Krishiv’s gaze remained cold as he continued, "I expect better from you, understand? I don’t care who they say they are. You check, you confirm, you call first." He paused for a moment, his expression unwavering. "Consider this a warning. Don’t make this mistake again. Do you hear me?"

"Yes, sir," the guard muttered, his voice apologetic, but Krishiv was already turning away.

Amrit and Nikhil entered the room, carrying their shopping bags. Nikhil went to his room.

“Akshattttt!” Amrit called out, her voice echoing through the house.

From the kitchen, a slightly muffled yet distinct voice responded, “Haan!”

“Idhar aaiye!” Amrit demanded with the authority of a queen summoning her knight.

“Chai bana ke aata hoon!” Akshat shouted back,

Amrit turned to the dressing table and began arranging her shopping bags, muttering,  Her lips curved into a smile. “Akshat ko ye kapde pasand aayenge, aur agar nahi bhi aayenge, to bhi pehnvaungi,” she said softly to herself, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

A few moments later, Akshat entered the room with two steaming cups of tea. His expression was a mix of mild annoyance and resignation, the kind he wore when he was forced to do something he didn’t want to.

“Lo, chai,” he said, thrusting a cup into Amrit’s hands before sinking onto the bed.

“Adrak jada daalna Akshat bhai.” Akshat grumbled under his breath, mimicking Nikhil’s high-pitched tone. “Mai kya tapri khol ke baitha hoon?”

Amrit’s eyes widened in confusion. “Kya hua?” she asked, tilting her head, genuinely puzzled.

“Woh Maharaj Nikhil Kumar! Room mein baith ke chai ke order de rahe hain,” Akshat said, shaking his head dramatically.

Amrit chuckled, her laugh light and melodic, and she sat beside him, taking a sip of tea. She then placed the cup aside and reached for one of the shopping bags. Her eyes twinkled as she spoke.

“Aapke liye kuch kapde laaye hoon,” she said with a grin.

Akshat arched an eyebrow, his face immediately turning suspicious. “Kyun? Maine kaha tha na mujhe nahi chahiye.”

Amrit ignored his words, her fingers diving into the bag. “Try to kariye na!” she insisted.

Akshat sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “Achha, dikhao.”

Amrit didn’t bother looking and tossed a bag onto the bed. “Pehle isse dekhiye kaisa hai,” she said casually, busy folding some new clothes.

Akshat picked up the bag, opened it, and froze. His face went from mild curiosity to pure, wide-eyed shock. His lips parted slightly, but no sound came out. His hand trembled as he held up a bra.

“Amrit… ye tumhara hai?” he asked, his voice low, almost scared.

“Nahi, woh aapke liye hi hai,” Amrit replied nonchalantly, not even sparing him a glance.

Akshat blinked, his jaw dropping as he tried to process her words. “Kyaa?! Are you mad? Mai ye pehnunga?” His voice shot up an octave, a mix of panic and disbelief plastered across his face.

“Haan, toh kya hua?” Amrit said, her tone utterly casual.

Akshat’s jaw dropped. “Dimag thikane pe hai tumhara?”

Amrit rolled her eyes. “Haan. Aur kyun nahi pehn sakte? Aur bhi aadmi log pehnte hain. Sirf aap hi eklaute nahi honge.”

“Kya? Matlab kuch bhi!” Akshat exclaimed, holding the bra.

“Kya kuch bhi? Ye to main bhi pehn leti hoon suit-wagera ke saath.” Amrit said, shrugging.

“Wahi to keh raha hoon, ye ladkiyan pehnti hain!” Akshat said, his voice raising slightly.

Akshat stared at her, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. His eyes darted between the bra and Amrit, who continued folding clothes as if nothing had happened.

Amrit raised an eyebrow, looking at him with mock pity. “Shut up, Akshat. Kabhi dekha nahi kya kisi mard ko ye pehne hue? Kitne mast lagenge T-shirt ke upar!”

“Mujhe nahi dekha kabhi… pata tumne ye sab kahan dekha” Akshat snapped, still holding the bra.

Amrit, still folding clothes with her back to him, casually replied, “Arey, Akshat! Aap ek kaam karo, pehen ke dekhiye. Maine specially aapke size ka liya hai. Confidence ke saath pehniye, sab bolenge, ‘wah kya personality hai!’”

Akshat stared at her, dumbfounded. “Fashion badal raha hai, par ye kahan ka fashion hai jo mardon ke liye hai? Amrit, tum theek ho na?”

Amrit said, her face glowing with enthusiasm. “Ye toh trend hai! Waise bhi aap boring lagte hai. College ki ladkiyan toh vaise bhi aap par fida hain. Isse pehen ke jayenge toh aur mar hi jayengi!”

“Haan literally, Mar hi jayengi, sach mein,” Akshat muttered under his breath, his expression deadpan.

Amrit waved him off. “Arre, bas bahot hua. Ab pehen kar aaiye, aur hum bahar chalenge. Aap yahi pehnna.”

Akshat’s patience finally snapped. “Amrit, main bra pehn ke bahar kaise jaunga? Are you mad?”

Amrit laughed lightly. “Wahi to keh rahi thi ki bra aap par suit.…” Her voice trailed off as realization hit her like a brick. Her movements froze, and her eyes slowly widened in horror as she turned around to see Akshat holding up the bra, confusion and shock written all over his face.

Her mouth opened slightly, and her cheeks turned a deep crimson. “Akshattttt!! Aap pagal hain kya?” she shrieked, rushing toward him. She snatched the bra from his hands, her face now resembling a ripe tomato, and hastily shoved it back into the bag.

Akshat stood there, still dumbfounded, watching her frantically stuff the bra into the shopping bag as if trying to erase the incident entirely. she zipped the bag shut, refusing to look at him.

“Maine aapko denim jacket diya tha! Ye aap kya kar rahe the?” she exclaimed, her voice a mix of embarrassment and frustration.

Akshat blinked, trying to process her reaction, before defending himself. “A…b… to naam nahi le sakti thi denim jacket? Mujhe kya pata tha! Tumne toh bas ‘dekh lo’ bola!”

Amrit, shaking her head muttered, “Aap bhi na!” She kept herself busy folding the other clothes on the bed, trying to regain her composure.

Akshat, watching her flustered state, couldn’t hold back any longer. He burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the room.

Amrit glared at him, her embarrassment turning into mock anger. “hahaha bahot maza aa gaya!” She crossed her arms over her chest, her lips pressed into a thin line, though the redness in her cheeks betrayed her continued embarrassment.

Akshat wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, still chuckling. “Acha chalo meri denim jacket to dikhao!”

Amrit, still trying to act annoyed “Khud dekh lijiye aapke side ki almirah me rakhi hai!” she said, though the corner of her lips twitched as if suppressing a smile.

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