42. Waiting for You

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From the very first chapter to now, your comments, feedback, and encouragement have meant the world to me. Seeing you all connect with the characters, feel their emotions, and cheer them on makes writing this story even more special.

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Your author, divaverse

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Author's POV

Around 10 o'clock,

Ishika went to the bedroom and lay down on the bed, scrolling through her phone. Suddenly, she noticed Sahil spreading out a mat on the floor and lying down, facing her.

Frowning, she asked, "What are you doing?"

"I have something to tell you," Sahil said.

A sudden wave of nervousness washed over Ishika. "Go ahead," she replied.

"I'll be leaving on a business trip the day after tomorrow."

"Where are you going?"

"London," he answered.

"Why?"

"To find someone,"

Ishika fell silent for a moment. She suddenly felt that he carried lots of secrets.

"Didn't you wonder about Shanaya and Nikhil?" He gently asked her, his voice dropping to a whisper. "This time, I'll give you an explanation when I come back."

Ishika turned her face away, her tone firm. "You don't need to explain anything to me. It's none of my business. By the time you return, Abhinav's exams will be over."

Sahil fell silent for a moment, taken aback by her response.

She didn't want to know now because, as long as he hadn't cheated on her, she was fine.

After a brief pause, she spoke again. "When that time comes, can I move to a new house with my brother? He's been recruited from college, and I was thinking... now that he has a job, we can finally be together."

Sahil's gaze darkened with intensity. He had the distinct feeling they were at a crossroads. Ishika, not getting a response, finally looked at him.

"Is it okay?" she asked again.

Sahil took a deep breath, his eyes shifting to the ceiling. "Ishika, can't you wait a little longer before making this decision?"

"What's the point of waiting, Sahil?" she sighed. "You know we have to go our separate ways eventually. Does it really matter whether I leave now or later?"

Sahil's jaw clenched. "Will you stop pretending to be naive?" His voice held an edge of frustration. "For God's sake, Ishika, can't you see what I'm trying to do here?"

Ishika gripped the bedsheet tightly, her knuckles turning white. She took a deep breath, steadying herself before speaking. "I have no plans to get married again. Right now, I just want to focus on myself."

Her voice was calm, but beneath it lay years of bottled-up emotions-hurt, disappointment, and a newfound determination. "I want to build myself into a stable, independent woman. I've spent my whole life depending on others-first my family, then you-and I'm tired of it. I don't want to live in someone else's shadow anymore."

She let out a small, almost bitter laugh. "You know, for the longest time, I believed happiness came from being with someone, from being loved and cared for. But I was wrong. Happiness isn't something you find in another person. It's something you have to create for yourself."

Her gaze dropped to her hands, fingers still clenched in the fabric. "I learned that the hard way. Every time I placed my happiness in someone else's hands, I ended up disappointed. And it wasn't their fault-it was mine, for expecting them to complete me. But that's not how it works, does it?"

She exhaled, as if releasing a weight from her chest. "I finally understand now-if you want to feel fulfilled, you have to find your own purpose. You have to do something for yourself, something that makes you wake up in the morning with excitement instead of fear. And for me, that's my career."

She met his gaze, her eyes shining with a mix of resolve and vulnerability. "It took me a long time to reach this realization, and the journey wasn't easy. But I don't regret it. Not anymore."

A small smile tugged at her lips, not of arrogance but of quiet pride. "Working has given me a sense of achievement, something that belongs to me and no one else. It makes me feel alive. I know I don't earn even one percent of what you do, but that doesn't matter. Because for the first time in my life, I feel content with what I have. And that... that is enough for me."

She released the bedsheet, her grip loosening as a strange sense of peace settled over her. This was her truth, and for once, she wasn't afraid to say it out loud.

The room fell into silence.

Sahil sat in stunned silence, his gaze fixed on her. He had expected defiance, maybe even anger-but not this. Not this raw, unfiltered truth that cut through him sharper than any argument ever could.

For the first time, he saw her not as the woman he had once known, but as someone reborn from her struggles. Someone who had learned to stand on her own. And it terrified him. Not because he didn't want her to be strong-but because, in her strength, she was slipping further away from him.

He swallowed, his throat dry. "Ishika..." he began, but his voice faltered. What could he say to this? To a woman who had found her purpose without him?

She looked at him, waiting, but he had no words. Instead, he exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "I didn't know you felt this way."

A sad smile crossed her lips. "That's because I never said it out loud before."

Sahil let out a quiet chuckle, though there was no humor in it. "You always had this fire in you. I just..." He hesitated, his gaze dropping for a moment before meeting hers again. "I never realized how much you had to fight to keep it burning."

There was something vulnerable in his eyes now-something that made her heart clench, but she forced herself to stay firm.

"I don't want to be saved, Sahil," she said softly. "I want to save myself."

He nodded, the weight of her words sinking in. And for the first time, he felt powerless. He had always believed that if he tried hard enough, if he proved himself enough, he could fix what was broken between them. But now, he understood-she wasn't broken. She never was.

She had simply been lost, and she had found her way back.

And the most painful part? She had done it without him.

Sahil let out a slow breath, leaning back as he studied her-this woman who had once been his side but now stood in front of him, untouchable in her newfound strength.

A wry smile tugged at his lips. Sahil let the silence stretch between them, heavy yet fragile, like something that might shatter with the wrong words. He had never felt this uncertain before-not with her. For years, he had always known where they stood, even in their worst moments. But now?

Now, he wasn't sure if he still had a place in her world.

He pulled his knees up, resting his elbows on them, his gaze never leaving her. "And what if...," he hesitated, then exhaled slowly, trying to find the right words. "What if I don't want to be just another person you leave behind on this journey of yours?"

Ishika's fingers twitched against the bedsheet, but her expression remained composed. "It's not about leaving anyone behind, Sahil. It's about finally putting myself first."

Her words stung, but he understood. And yet, understanding didn't make it any easier to accept.

"You talk about happiness like it's something you have to find alone," he said, his voice quieter now, almost pained. "But does it have to be that way? Can't you be happy and still..." He trailed off, as if afraid to finish the sentence.

She sighed, looking down at her hands. "I don't know, Sahil. Maybe one day I'll have an answer. But right now, I can't think about anything else except building my life, my future. For once, I need to do this on my own."

Her honesty was like a blade to his chest, yet he could see it in her eyes-she wasn't pushing him away out of anger or resentment. She was simply choosing herself in a way she never had before.

And that scared him. Because he had always believed that, no matter what happened between them, there would always be a thread tying them together.

But what if, in her pursuit of independence, she finally let go of him?

Sahil clenched his fists, then relaxed them. He wanted to fight this, to tell her that she didn't have to do it alone, that he wanted to stand by her side. But something in her gaze told him that now wasn't the time.

So instead, he forced a small smile. "I don't know how to be in your life if I'm not needed, Ishika."

She met his gaze, something flickering in his expression-sadness, maybe regret. "Maybe it's not about being needed, Sahil. Maybe it's about being wanted."

Her words settled heavily between them. Because for the first time, she wasn't just asking him to stay-she was telling him that if he wanted to be part of her life, it had to be on her terms.

And he didn't know if he was ready for that.

Sahil leaned back, staring at the ceiling, his heart pounding in a way that felt dangerously close to heartbreak.

"Then I guess I'll just have to wait and see," he murmured, more to himself than to her.

Ishika lowered her gaze, her heart feeling heavier than she expected. She had always thought this moment would bring her peace-choosing herself, standing her ground. But why did it feel like something was slipping away?

Sahil let out a slow breath, rubbing his temples as if trying to ease the ache forming there. He had never been good at waiting. He had always been a man of action, someone who fought for what he wanted. But this-this was different.

"I won't stop you, Ishika," he finally said, his voice quieter now. "I won't beg you to stay or to change your mind. If this is what you need, then I'll step back."

Her breath hitched. She had expected resistance, maybe even frustration. But the quiet acceptance in his tone shook her more than any argument ever could.

"But I need you to know something," he continued, his gaze locking onto hers with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. "Just because I'm stepping back doesn't mean I'm letting go."

Ishika's fingers curled into the sheets again, a war waging inside her. "Sahil..."

He shook his head. "No, let me say this." He leaned forward, closing the space between them, his voice low but firm. "I get it. You want to stand on your own, find your own happiness. And I respect that. But don't think for a second that I'll ever stop wanting you."

A lump formed in her throat. "Sahil, I..."

"I know. And I won't force my way into your life if you don't want me there." He stood up, his movements slow, controlled, as if forcing himself to hold back everything he truly wanted to say.

"But I also won't pretend like my feelings don't exist," he added, his voice raw with emotion. "You can take all the time you need, Ishika. Build the life you want. Become the woman you want to be."

He took a deep breath, his expression unreadable. "And when you're ready-if you ever are-I'll be here."

Her heart twisted painfully at his words. She wanted to tell him that this wasn't about him waiting for her. That she didn't want him to put his life on hold. That she wasn't sure she would ever be ready.

He paused before saying, "No matter how much space you need, no matter how far you go, just know... I'll always be here, waiting for you."

But as she looked into his eyes, she saw something that made her chest tighten-certainty. He wasn't just saying this to make her feel guilty or to bind her to him. He truly meant it.

Sahil took a step back, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer. Then, without another word, he turned and walked toward the door.

As the door clicked shut behind him, Ishika exhaled shakily, pressing a hand to her chest.

For the first time, she had chosen herself.

She had made her decision-she had stood firm, chosen her own path. So why did her chest feel tight, her breath uneven?

With a frustrated sigh, she pushed herself off the bed and walked to the window, staring out into the night. The city lights twinkled below, indifferent to the storm of emotions raging inside her.

She should feel proud, liberated even. She had fought so hard for this moment, to finally put herself first. But the lingering warmth of Sahil's words clung to her, refusing to fade.

"I won't force my way into your life if you don't want me there. But I also won't pretend like my feelings don't exist."

"No matter how much space you need, no matter how far you go, just know... I'll always be here, waiting for you."

His voice echoed in her mind, filled with an honesty that made it impossible to ignore. He hadn't fought her decision. He hadn't tried to change her mind. He had simply... accepted it.

And yet, that acceptance held more power than any argument ever could.

She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the emotions away. This wasn't how it was supposed to feel. She had expected relief, clarity. Instead, all she felt was an ache she couldn't quite name.

She needed time. She needed to focus on herself, just as she had planned.

But as she lay back down, staring at the ceiling, she couldn't help but wonder...

Would he really wait?

And more importantly-would she ever be ready to go back to him?

***

Next Day,

Ishika was getting for her school, she was wearing a silk saree but she was not able to fix the plates of her saree. It was frustrating her, it's not like she doesn't like wearing saree, but the whole process of wearing is really tiring especially, if you aren't able to get plates done.

Suddenly, Sahil entered the room from the closet, ready to leave for his office. But the moment his eyes landed on Ishika, he froze. His breath hitched, and his heartbeat quickened. She looked breathtaking in the silk saree—elegant, graceful, absolutely mesmerizing. Sarees truly belonged to her, he thought. Every time she wore one, it did something to him, something he couldn’t control.

Drawn to her like a magnet, he moved closer, standing just behind her. Ishika, oblivious to his presence, was still struggling with the pleats, her delicate fingers fumbling in frustration. Sahil’s gaze dropped to her hands, watching her battle with the stubborn fabric. A small smirk played on his lips.

"Let me help you," he murmured, his deep voice breaking the silence.

Ishika gasped, startled, and looked up—only to find him impossibly close. Her breath caught in her throat as her wide eyes locked onto his intense dark ones. The air between them thickened, crackling with an unspoken tension.

Sahil, holding her gaze, slowly knelt before her, his movements deliberate, reverent. Ishika’s heart pounded against her ribs—what was he doing? But she couldn’t move, couldn’t look away. His long fingers reached out, brushing against her waist as he gently took hold of the pleats, smoothing and fixing them with a practiced ease.

She kept staring at him. In that moment, it felt as though he wasn’t just helping her—he was offering himself to her, surrendering completely. Not just to the moment, but to her. To the emotions neither of them dared to name, to the silent pull that had always existed between them. It was as if, without a single word, he was letting her know—she had power over him in a way no one else ever had.

As Sahil smoothed the pleats with careful precision, his fingers brushed against her waist ever so lightly, sending a shiver down Ishika’s spine. She clenched the edge of the dresser behind her, her knuckles turning white, trying to steady herself against the storm he was unknowingly stirring within her.

Sahil, still kneeling, dared to glance up. The sight before him nearly knocked the breath out of his lungs—her wide, startled eyes, her parted lips, and the way her chest rose and fell in quick, uneven breaths. God, she was beautiful.

His fingers lingered on the pleats for just a second longer than necessary before he finally spoke, his voice low and rough. “There. Perfect.”

Ishika swallowed hard, her throat dry. She should say something, thank him, move away—anything—but she couldn’t. The warmth of his touch still lingered on her skin, and the intensity in his gaze made her feel as if she was standing on the edge of something dangerous, something intoxicating.

Sahil stood up, his hands still resting near her waist. The air between them crackled, charged with something unspoken, something neither of them had the courage to voice.

Then, just when Ishika thought she could finally breathe again, he leaned in slightly, his lips mere inches from her ear. “You look beautiful,” he whispered.

A shudder ran through her, her grip tightening on the dresser. Her heartbeat pounded so loudly she was sure he could hear it.

And then, as if snapping out of a trance, Sahil exhaled and straightened. But he didn’t step back, didn’t create distance. Instead, he raised a hand and gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers grazing her skin like a whisper.

Ishika’s breath hitched again, her entire body frozen under his touch. His dark eyes flickered to her lips for a fleeting second before he tore his gaze away, as if battling something within himself.

“I should go,” he murmured, more to himself than to her.

But he didn’t move. Neither did she.

For a moment, they stood there, suspended in a silence that spoke louder than words. Ishika finally found her voice, though it was barely above a whisper. “Thank you.”

Sahil’s lips curved into a small smile, a knowing one, before he gave her a slight nod and stepped away. Without another word, he turned and walked downstairs, leaving Ishika standing there, still breathless.

As soon as he was gone, she let out a deep breath she hadn’t even realized she was holding. Her hands instinctively pressed against her chest, trying to steady the wild rhythm of her heart.

It wasn’t as if they hadn’t been close before. In fact, they had shared moments far more intimate than this. But this time… this time, it felt different.

The way Sahil had looked at her—it wasn’t just attraction or teasing flirtation. It was something deeper. Something intense. The usual indifference in his eyes was gone, replaced by a storm of emotions she had never seen before. Unspoken feelings, silent confessions—everything was there, written in his gaze.

Ishika swallowed hard, forcing herself to take another deep breath. “Stop thinking about him,” she muttered under her breath, shaking her head as if that would erase the way he had just made her feel.

She turned to the mirror, giving herself one last glance. She brushed her hair and smoothed out the nonexistent wrinkles in her saree.

Pushing the thoughts away, she grabbed her bag and walked out. But no matter how hard she tried, her heart was still racing… and Sahil’s words from last night still echoed in her mind.

_______________________________

End of the chapter.

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