Sia's days at the Rathor mansion followed a quiet rhythm. She found solace in the company of Candy, the playful banter with Ishika in the kitchen, and the serene stillness of the library. It was the only place where her mind could momentarily escape the storm in her heart.
Aarav, ever observant, had noticed this pattern. He often found her tucked away in a cozy corner of the library, surrounded by books, her expression contemplative. One evening, curiosity got the better of him.
He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. "You know, you practically live here now. What's so fascinating about this place?"
Startled, Sia looked up from the notebook she was scribbling in. "Oh... I just like the quiet," she said softly, closing the notebook hurriedly.
Aarav raised an eyebrow. "Uh-huh. And what are you always writing in that little notebook? Let me see." He made a playful grab for it.
"No!" Sia exclaimed, clutching the notebook to her chest. "It's private."
Aarav stepped back, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. But now you've got me curious." He plopped down in the armchair across from her. "Come on, Sia. You can tell me. I won't judge."
Sia hesitated, her fingers tracing the edges of the notebook. Aarav's genuine curiosity and warm demeanor made it hard to resist. Finally, she sighed. "It's... writing. I like to write."
"Writing?" Aarav's eyes lit up. "What kind of writing?"
"Stories, mostly," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "Sometimes poetry. It's just something I do for myself. I've never shown anyone."
Aarav leaned forward, intrigued. "Why not? If it's something you're passionate about, you should share it."
She shook her head. "It's not that simple. I don't think anyone would care. And besides... I don't think I'm good enough."
Aarav frowned. "That's nonsense, Sia. You're underestimating yourself. I mean, look at youâyou've already made everyone fall in love with your cooking and your kind nature. I'm sure your writing is just as incredible."
Sia gave him a small smile. "You're just saying that to make me feel better."
"No, I'm saying it because I mean it," Aarav replied firmly. "And if you ever feel like sharing your work, I'd love to read it."
The sincerity in his voice warmed Sia's heart. For the first time in days, she felt seenânot as the girl embroiled in family drama or the bride navigating a new life, but as herself.
"Thanks, Aarav," she said, her voice soft but genuine.
"Anytime," he said with a wink. "But for now, let's keep this between us. Wouldn't want Arjun getting jealous that his brother knows more about his wife than he does."
Sia chuckled lightly, a sound Aarav hadn't heard in what felt like ages. It was a small victory, but it gave him hope that, with time, Sia would find her footing againâand perhaps her happiness too.
The Breakfast Scene
The next morning, the Rathor family gathered at the dining table, enjoying a hearty breakfast. The soft sunlight streamed through the windows, illuminating the cheerful atmosphere. Sia sat quietly, nibbling on her toast, her thoughts lingering on her conversation with Aarav the night before.
Ishika, seated beside her, suddenly looked up from her phone. "I have to tell you all about this writer I've been following on social media," she said excitedly. "They go by the pen name 'Rhythm.' The way they write, it's pure magic. Every word resonates so deeplyâit's like they can see into your soul."
Sia's hand froze mid-air, the toast barely reaching her lips. Her heart raced, but she kept her face impassive.
Arjun, sipping his coffee, raised a curious eyebrow. "Rhythm, That's an interesting name. I do admire writers who can craft words so beautifully. It's an art not everyone can master."
Ishika nodded fervently. "Exactly! Rhythm's posts have this way of making you stop and think. Like, I read one piece yesterday about finding light in darkness, and it stayed with me the whole day. I can't imagine the kind of mind behind such powerful words."
A faint smile tugged at Sia's lips, and though she quickly looked down, Aarav caught the fleeting sparkle in her eyes.
"You're right," Arjun added, his tone thoughtful. "I have read their books. The way that writer picks the perfect words to convey emotionâit's incredible. It's like they leave a part of themselves in every line they write."
Sia couldn't help but glance at him, her heart fluttering at his unexpected words of encouragement. For a brief moment, she felt seen, even if he didn't know the whole truth.
Aarav, observing Sia closely, smirked knowingly. "Well, Ishika, maybe Rhythm isn't as far away as you think. Who knows? You might already know them."
Sia's cheeks turned crimson, and she busied herself with her tea, hoping no one noticed.
The Library Confrontation
That evening, the house settled into a calm rhythm as everyone retreated to their own corners. Sia found solace in the library, her favorite haven. The comforting scent of old books and the soft rustle of pages provided her with a sense of peace. She was deeply engrossed in her journal when Aarav walked in, his expression a mix of amusement and curiosity.
"There you are," he said, leaning casually against the bookshelf.
Sia looked up, startled. "What are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same thing," he replied, walking over to the desk. "But I think I already know the answer. So, Rhythm, how's the writing going?"
Her eyes widened in shock, and she froze. "IâI don't know what you're talking about."
Aarav chuckled, holding up his phone. On the screen was the Instagram page of "Rhythm," complete with the familiar posts that had gained so much admiration. "Don't even try denying it, Sia. I recognized your style instantly."
She stared at him, her heart pounding. "Aarav, please, you can't tell anyone!"
He held up his hands in surrender. "Relax, I'm not here to blow your cover. I just want to know why you're so afraid to own up to something so amazing."
Sia looked down, fiddling with the edge of her notebook. "It's not that simple. What if people find out it's me and decide I'm not good enough? What if they don't like my writing anymore?"
Aarav pulled up one of Rhythm's posts, showing her the comments section. "Sia, look at this. Hundreds of people are pouring their hearts out, saying how much your words mean to them. They love your work, and they don't even know who you are. Do you realize how rare that is?"
She blinked back tears, overwhelmed by his words. "But... it's different when it's anonymous. It's safe."
He sat down beside her, his voice gentle. "I get it. Putting yourself out there is scary. But you've already done the hard partâyou've connected with people. They don't just like your writing; they love it. And they love you, even if they don't know your face or your name."
Sia bit her lip, her emotions swirling. "You really think so?"
Aarav grinned. "I don't just think soâI know so. You're incredible, Sia. And when you're ready, the world will see it too."
For the first time in a long while, Sia felt a glimmer of confidence. Maybe, just maybe, her words had the power to change not just her life, but the lives of others as well.
The Silent Observer
Unbeknownst to Sia and Aarav, Arjun stood at the far end of the hallway, just outside the library door. The faint glow of the warm library lights spilled into the dim corridor, casting long shadows. From his vantage point, he could see Sia and Aarav sitting close, deep in conversation.
Though he couldn't hear their words, their body language spoke volumesâAarav leaning slightly toward Sia, his expression animated, while Sia's guarded demeanor slowly softened, her lips curving into a hesitant smile.
Arjun's grip on the doorframe tightened. A flicker of something he refused to name twisted in his chest. Why does it bother me so much? he thought, his jaw clenching. She's just talking to Aarav.
But even as he told himself that, his eyes lingered on her smile, the kind he hadn't seen directed at him in a long time. It was a sight he didn't realize he missed until now.
Before he could dwell further, a firm hand on his shoulder startled him. He turned to find his father standing behind him, observing him with a knowing glint in his eyes.
"Arjun," his father said, his voice low but firm. "What are you doing here?"
Arjun straightened, his face carefully neutral. "Nothing. Just passing by."
His father raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Passing by? You've been standing here for quite some time. What's going on?"
"Nothing," Arjun repeated, the edge in his tone growing. "Aarav and Sia are talking. That's all."
His father studied him for a moment, then said, "You don't look like a man who thinks it's 'just talking.'"
Arjun stiffened. "You're reading too much into this."
"Am I?" his father countered, his voice calm but probing. "Because from where I stand, it looks like you're jealous."
"I'm not jealous," Arjun snapped, his tone sharper than he intended. "Why would I be? Sia and I... it's complicated."
His father gave a faint smile, crossing his arms. "Complicated, yes. But that doesn't mean you don't care."
Arjun looked away, his expression conflicted. "It doesn't matter. She's free to talk to whoever she wants. Aarav's just... being Aarav. He gets along with everyone."
"That may be true," his father said, his tone softening. "But the question isn't about Aarav or Sia. It's about you. Are you willing to let your doubts and ego keep pushing her away? Or will you fight for what you really want?"
Arjun's jaw tightened, but he said nothing. His father's words struck a chord, one he wasn't ready to acknowledge yet.
As his father walked away, Arjun remained rooted to the spot, his thoughts a tangled mess. He stole one last glance at the library, where Sia was now laughing at something Aarav said, her eyes sparkling.
For the first time, Arjun felt an ache he couldn't ignoreâa reminder of how much she'd come to mean to him, even if he couldn't bring himself to admit it.