33c - We could never find any better than her(S1)

"Yashashwini! Ashiwini!" Rajmata's voice echoed through the halls, summoning attention.

"Come here!" Her tone, though composed, resonated with underlying agitation.

"What is she wearing? Didn't you inform her? Or did you not bother to check? Letting her wear something so simple. How many people must be making comments about her? How many of them did we manage to stop?" Rajmata directed her questions to Bua Sa, her demeanor reflecting her displeasure.

"Bhabhi sa... we... we gave her royal attire! We don't know..." Bua Sa replied, attempting to concoct a convincing explanation. " We don't know why she showed up wearing something like that."

Without missing a beat, Rajmata responded, "You are responsible for this situation. She has no idea about these matters. It was your duty, wasn't it?"

Bua Sa lowered her gaze, her words faltering as she looked up. "Believe us, Bhabhi Sa, trust our words. Wait, I'll call Prithvi, he was supposed to be here."

Tears welled up in her eyes as she continued, "How could you say this about—"

Rajmata cut her off, "Don't try to make excuses now," looking around at the gathering.

"No, Bhabhi Sa, we will prove our innocence. Otherwise, you'll only blame us," Bua Sa insisted.

"Prithvi!" Bua Sa called out nervously, beckoning Prithvi to join them.

Confused,Prithvi approached. "Ji, Maa Sa," he acknowledged.

"We didn't call you. We have no desire to discuss anything with you. Go back," Rajmata stated icily, avoiding further conversation.

Prithvi's expression shifted as Bua Sa conveyed the situation to him. His mother remained silent, while Bua Sa's tears made her argument more compelling.

"On behalf of her, we apologize," Prithvi offered, his mother still silent.

Breaking the tense silence, Rajmata spoke again. "Let's not escalate the situation further. It's just attire. Comfort Ashwini and rectify the matter, here. Do something beneficial," she instructed Bua Sa.

Turning to Prithvi, she added, "As for you, we don't know! At least be on her side. She's alone there," and walked away.

***

Abhi moved towards Ekta, growing impatient to talk.

He watched her navigate through a crowd, taking large, urgent steps to follow her, only to come to a sudden halt.

"Ahem, ahem," he heard someone clear his throat.

He turned his head to find his father speaking to the people around him, but with his eyes fixed warningly on Abhi.

Abhi visibly gulped, his father adjusted his glasses as if to emphasize the warning.

"Yes, the directory is in our possession. Just inform us when we need to make changes," his father addressed the group, but his eyes lingered on Abhi, a silent warning to behave.

"But there's one issue we foresee," Prithvi's father interjected.

Turning his attention back to the conversation, his father replied formally, "We can address that together if we're given the necessary time. Efficiency is crucial."

Nervously, with a forced smile, Abhi attempted to contribute, "I, uh, waiter, here, drink!" His words stumbled out incoherently.

"Where has Prithvi gone? He must be calling for me," Abhi rambled, addressing no one in particular and hoping to excuse himself.

However, his father ignored him, giving him last cold warning to behave before returning his focus to the conversation.

Feeling dismissed, Abhi quickly made his escape, heading in another direction.

"Waiter! Here!" Prithvi's father, Yashvardhan, called out.

"Your name—Sumit," he read from the waiter's nametag.

He then proceeded to order, "Sumit, Serve all the gentlemen, our exclusive."

The waiter nodded, and Yashvardhan added, "Try this malt; it won't disappoint your palate."

***

"W...h..here are y..ou ta..k..king me?" Niharika's voice held urgency as Prithvi firmly grasped her hand, leading her to a private lounge area.

Struggling to keep up with his quick pace, she noticed the seriousness etched on his face, devoid of any emotion.

He abruptly stopped in the private lounge, releasing her hand."Now, answer me. Why did you do that?"

Confusion clouded Niharika's expression as she faced the unexpected question. "W..hat d..i..id I do?" she asked innocently, gazing up at him.

"Don't give me that innocent look!" he snapped. Regaining his composure, he continued, "I don't care what you wear or what you do. To me, you are beautiful—" He cut himself off, refocusing on lecturing her.

"—It's your freedom, but we still need to respect our elders and seniors, don't we?" he asked, lowering himself to her eye level.

Trying to reason with her.

Niharika nodded silently.

"Then why? If you agree, why do you act this way? Can't you see I'm trying to change, trying to love you—" His voice rose in frustration, pressing her against a pillar.

"Tum mujhe ek minute bhi khush nahi dekh sakti ho kya?" Her fear grew as his anger flared.

"W...h..hat d..did I d..o?" she asked again, her voice low and tired, eyes welling but holding back tears.

"Was all this necessary? Couldn't I deserve a few moments of peace?" he asked, his hand moving from her arm to his head.

W...h.hat do y..o..ou me..e.an? Will yo..u T..tell me," she insisted, her voice rising as he continued to evade her question.

"Please, don't you know?" Prithvi softened his tone further, seeing her distress. "Don't act like that; it hurts. Why did you show up like this when you were wearing something else? Do you want to embarrass me in front of my family?"

"B..but I...i...i didn't—" Niharika tried to protest.

"Please, stop," he interrupted. "If you want revenge or something, take it out on me for the way I treated you. I'll accept it. But we don't need to show the outside world. It will only bring more danger to you. I don't want either of us to get hurt. I don't want to see any blood," he pleaded, taking her hand in his.

He sighed wearily. "Every time I try to move on, life throws me curveballs. Why? What do we gain from disrespecting our elders?"

He released her hand, turning his back to her. "I'm tired too of always fighting—"

Suddenly, terror engulfed Prithvi's face as he glanced behind her with wide eyes.

He took several steps back, his face draining with color as he saw what seemed like a ghost.

Freezing in place, he licked his dry lips and began mumbling, "It's okay," repeatedly, his breathing becoming irregular.

Grabbing his handkerchief from his trousers with trembling hands, he frantically wiped his forehead, refusing to look in Niharika's direction.

"It's okay," he muttered, continuing to tap his handkerchief against his head with shaking hands.

Concerned by his sudden change, Niharika began to approach him, but he retreated further, avoiding her gaze.

"A...are yo..u..u o.kay?" she asked softly.

He took more steps back, eyes averted, still tapping his handkerchief against his forehead. "It's okay," he mumbled once more , before finally meeting her eyes and softly apologizing.

"So... sorry," he whispered, his usual self nowhere to be found.

"Sorry," he repeated once more before leaving, leaving Niharika puzzled and wiping away her tears as she watched him depart, his face pale, drained of color and his demeanor shaken.

***

As Abhi sat at the bar, sipping his drink, Amar commented, "Bhai, she's here."

"Who?" Abhi questioned without looking up.

"Ekta!" Amar replied.

"Call her Ekta bhabhi, not just her name. Why would she come here?" Abhi said with a hint of sorrow.

"I think I should finally close that chapter in my life," Abhi uttered.

"She's right behind you," Amar said, glancing towards Ekta before leaving.

"Stop it, Amar," Abhi snapped with frustration.

"Abhimaan," a voice came from behind.

Ekta tapped his shoulder, biting her lower lip nervously as she stood before him.

Abhi turned to face her, his expression unreadable.

Seeing his lack of enthusiasm, Ekta's smile faded, but she continued, "I'm sorry, once again. We've only met thrice, and each time, I've had to apologize for something—"

"—I shouldn't blame you for your friend's actions. He's the one I don't like,"

"It's okay," abhi said, turning back to the counter.

Ekta tapped his shoulder again, "Mr. Adivashi—I mean, Agnivanshi, are you still angry?"

This time, Abhi's impatience got the better of him. "So what if I am?" he turns, locking eyes with her.

Leaning in close, he asked, "So what if I'm angry? Why should it bother you?" His face was mere inches from hers, his eyes searching hers.

Speechless, Ekta bit her lower lip, in attempt not to show how affected she was.

"Answer me, Ekta. Can you handle my antics? Can you handle my moods? Can you handle me? Or would you run away? Can I really show my disappointment at you." Abhi slid his stool closer to hers, narrowing the distance between them.

Silence hung in the air as Ekta glanced around nervously before bluring out, "I... Veer bhai is waiting. I should go. I came to apologize and say goodbye."

"Okay then, goodnight. Have a safe flight," Abhi replied calmly, showing no reaction.

Just as she turned to leave, he called out, "Ms. Ekta."

She turned back with a small smile, his back still on her. "Yes, Mr. Abhimaan?"

He swirled his drink, then said, "Don't hold onto any regrets. I'm moving back to my old life, going back to Delhi. You'll be the last thing on my mind."

Her smile faded as he continued, "I know I've been creepy, but I finally understand. I'll try to forget you. Don't worry, I'm leaving you alone. You don't need to feel bad about me anymore."

With that, he turned again, saying, "Bye."

"Mr. Abhimaan, can we exchange contact?" Ekta asked, sensing his desolation.

"Why would we need each other's contact when we have no relation? You're related to Prithvi, not me," Abhi stated bluntly.

"And I don't want to be in contact with you. Give me one good reason why we should be in touch," he challenged, raising an eyebrow.

Searching for a reason, she finally said, "Friends."

"Friends?" Abhi repeated incredulously. "I don't want to be just friends. Now, leave before you miss your flight."

Growing impatient, Ekta acted swiftly.

She moved closer, planting a kiss on his cheek.

Then, summoning courage, bolder than before, she kissed him on the lips, lightly brushing her lips against his, feeling the roughness of his beard against her skin.

"Now do we have something?" she asked boldly.

Abhi was speechless, taken aback by her boldness.

Without waiting for his reply, Ekta said, "Let's stay in touch. Life's already boring; let's not make it worse. Here's my number," she added, quickly dialing her number on his phone and giving him a missed call.

"I...I..." Abhi began, but she cut him off.

"Bye, I'll call you. We really do have each other's numbers now. Don't you try forget me. Bye," she said hurriedly before walking away.

Abhi stared at her retreating figure, a chuckle escaping his lips.

***

In the fancy lit night, Prithvi and Niharika stood beside each other on the stage, their faces reflecting distant misery.

Though Prithvi appeared to have regained his composure, he was still lost in his thoughts, while Niharika, despite her forced smile, was deeply unhappy after the previous incident. Both pretended to be happy, trying their best to maintain appearances.

Prithvi's hand moved towards Niharika's waist, pulling her closer.

She looked up at him but didn't protest.

As they stood together, numerous cameramen and journalists captured their photos, searching for the perfect candid shot for tomorrow's newspapers and channel headlines.

A waiter approached with a tray, offering each of them a glass to raise, sealing their alliance with the world.

While raising a toast wasn't a part of their family's traditional customs, it held significance in the business realm, especially with so many VIPs in attendance.

Prithvi accepted his glass of champagne with practiced ease.

Niharika hesitated but eventually took the glass, mimicking Prithvi's action.

As they raised their glasses, the champagne sparkled like magic in the clear glass.

Prithvi drank his in one gulp, but Niharika hesitated, keeping her glass untouched.

Prithvi, noticing her reluctance, took her glass from her hand and downed its contents as well.

They locked eyes, staring at each other in silence.

Tension thick between them.

The guests began to applaud,Niharika avoiding his gaze, Start looking anywhere but at him.

Suddenly, Prithvi's eyes widened in alarm as he looked up.

"No!" he exclaimed, swiftly dropping his glass and pushing Niharika away from him.

She stumbled backward, and a collective gasp filled the room.

Before she could react, a splash of red blood drenched him.

The crowd erupted into shocked murmurs, and cameras flashed in his direction, capture the headline-worthy moment.

The couple was separated by the chaos.

Niharika stood frozen in shock, but then she started to move towards him.

However, Prithvi's mother grabbed her hand, pulling her back and preventing her from approaching him.

Security and bodyguards rushed to Prithvi's side, shielding him from the flashing cameras and aggressive journalists.

Niharika, frightened and crying, struggled against the hold, pleading to be set free to see her husband. "Le...t..t me go! H..e.e's n..not okay, please," she begged.

But Prithvi's mother held her close, hiding her face in her arms and patting her back soothingly. "Don't look," she whispered.

Tears streaming down her face, as she spoke "H...h..e was scared be..e..fore too."

" pl....ease l..l.et me go"

"Waiter!" rajmata called out, "Water for Madam," she ordered.

rajmata continued to shield Niharika, understanding the anguish she must be feeling as Prithvi's wife witnessing such humiliation for the first time since joining the family.

A journalist knelt down, examining the red liquid that had pooled near his shoes. Sniffing it, he declared, "It's not blood—it's red paint."

The atmosphere grew tense, the soft background music shifting to a dramatic Mozart composition as if mourning the evening's events.

Suddenly, the lights went out and the large screen behind Prithvi illuminated with bold, shocking words:

"A small gift for my very old friend. I hope you liked the gift. I couldn't be there myself to wish you a happy married life."

The room buzzed with shock and gossip.

Prithvi scanned the crowd, his eyes finally resting on Niharika, who sobbed in his mother's arms.

Gritting his teeth and clenching his fists, he glared at the crowd.

Amidst the chaos, one man dressed as a staff member smirked quietly, reveling in his apparent victory.

Journalists clamored to get closer, bombarding Prithvi and his family with questions.

"Cut the main power supply now!" Yashwardhan, Prithvi's father, ordered the manager.

And then, darkness enveloped the whole venue....