APART

Veer reached downstairs, his expression unreadable.

Everyone immediately turned to him.

"How is Ridhima? Is she okay?" his mother, Aarti, asked with concern.

Veer simply nodded. "She'll be fine by tomorrow." His voice was firm, detached—almost as if the moment upstairs had never happened.

Ridhima's father, Mr. Rajawat, took a deep breath before speaking. "I was thinking... since Veer will be away for a month and Ridhima needs rest, she should come home with me."

Veer's father, Mr. Arora, looked uncertain. "We can take care of her here too."

"I know," Mr. Rajawat replied with a small smile. "But it's been almost a week since she's been apart from us. It would be a reunion for our family."

Veer, who had been silent all this time, finally spoke—his tone calm yet indifferent. "It's okay. You can take her with you."

Aarti glanced at her son, sensing something was off. But Veer didn't show any emotion.

Ridhima, who had been listening from the stairs, felt something inside her drop.

So that's it?

No hesitation, no argument, no second thought. He was fine with her leaving.

She should be happy, right? She should be relieved.

But then... why did it feel like something inside her just shattered?

Veer entered his room, his eyes instantly falling on Ridhima, who was resting on the bed. He took a deep breath and said in a low voice, "Your dad is here. He's waiting to take you home."

Ridhima didn't respond immediately. She had so much to say, but she knew Veer wouldn't listen. The way he had so easily let her go—it was clear that he had already made up his mind about her.

So instead of arguing, she just nodded. "Okay."

She slowly got up and started packing her bag.

Veer stood there, watching her. Just an hour ago, she was desperate to tell him something, and now, when he finally wanted to listen, she had nothing to say.

His chest tightened.

He didn't know why, but watching her pack, watching her leave—it made him feel like something was slipping away.

Without another word, he grabbed her bag and followed her downstairs.

But just as they reached the staircase, Ridhima lost her balance again—her ankle still weak from earlier.

Veer reacted instantly. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her close against his chest.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

His eyes welled up, flashing back to the last time he had caught her like this. The way he had held her, the way their breaths had mixed, the way they had almost kissed.

And now, here they were again. But this time, everything was different.

Ridhima, still in his arms, looked up at him. "You never thought of asking me first before deciding something?"

Veer clenched his jaw, his voice low and heavy. "And you never thought of telling me first when I asked you so many times?"

Their eyes locked.

So much pain. So much unsaid.

But then, just as quickly as the moment came, it was gone.

They broke eye contact and stepped away from each other.

Silently, they walked toward the car.

And just like that... Ridhima left.

Ridhima sat on her bed, staring at the floor. Her mind was clouded with everything that had happened in the past few days.

Just then, Meera entered her room. "Di, how's your ankle now?" she asked, concern in her voice.

Ridhima gave a small nod. "It's fine now."

Meera sighed in relief before sitting beside her. But then, curiosity took over. "I saw Yash at your reception. Why was he even there?"

Ridhima's fingers tightened around the edge of her dupatta. "Yash is Veer's business partner."

Meera's eyes widened. "What?!"

Ridhima let out a tired breath and explained everything—how Yash was connected to Veer, how Veer had overheard their conversation, and how he had completely misunderstood the situation.

Meera listened patiently before shaking her head. "So what did you do? Did you tell Veer the truth?"

Ridhima looked down. "No... I couldn't."

Meera groaned in frustration. "Di, how could you do that? You have to tell him!"

Ridhima remained silent.

Meera narrowed her eyes. "Wait... do you love him?"

The room fell into silence.

The question hung in the air, unanswered.

Ridhima opened her mouth to say something but stopped herself.

She didn't have an answer. Or maybe she was just afraid to say it.

Meera sighed and placed a hand on Ridhima's shoulder. "First, clear your mind, Di. Do you love Veer or not? Because from what I see, Veer is madly in love with you."

Ridhima's heart skipped a beat.

Madly in love with her?

She swallowed hard, but the question still remained unanswered.

Ridhima looked at Meera, confusion swirling in her eyes. "How can Veer love me? I don't even love him."

Meera raised an eyebrow, leaning forward. "Are you sure about that?"

Ridhima hesitated for a second.

Meera smirked. "Because if you really didn't feel anything for him, why don't you complain when he touches you? When he holds you, why don't you push him away?"

Ridhima's breath hitched. "That's—" she started but couldn't finish.

Meera shook her head. "Di, what happened in the past is still in the past. Don't drag it into your present. Veer loves you. Anyone can see it."

Ridhima looked away, her mind clouded with thoughts.

Meera folded her arms. "If you can't tell him the truth, then I will."

Ridhima's head snapped up. "No! Please... don't. I need to clear my mind first. I need to answer his question before anything else."

Meera sighed, watching her sister struggle with her emotions. "Then do it fast, Di. Because love doesn't wait forever."

Ridhima lowered her gaze, knowing that Meera was right.

But was she ready to face the truth?

Veer sat on the edge of his bed, his room feeling eerily empty without Ridhima. The silence was suffocating, and no matter how much he tried to push away his thoughts, they kept coming back.

Just a few hours ago, they were so close—so close that he could feel her breath against his lips. If that phone call hadn't interrupted them... would she have kissed him back?

His fists clenched as another memory hit him. The press conference—how naturally Ridhima had kissed him in front of the media, as if no one else existed. That moment had felt real. Not for show, not for a contract—real.

But then there was Yash.

Veer's jaw tightened as he recalled Yash's words: "She loved me madly."

Had Ridhima ever looked at him the way she looked at Yash? Did she ever think of him with that same intensity?

A bitter chuckle escaped Veer's lips. He had told her he would sign the divorce papers after four months, but the truth was—he didn't want to.

He wanted her.

Not just as his wife in name, not just as part of a contract. He wanted all of her. Her heart, her love, her everything.

But did she even feel the same?

Would she ever?

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