Chapter:  Before It Heals, It Hurts

It was barely past 12 PM when Arnav noticed Anvi and Maan walking into the hall...far too early for them to be home from college. He blinked, at first thinking he’d misheard the clock, but no… the sun still hung high, the house still drowsed in afternoon calm. Something was wrong. Deeply wrong.

Normally, Anvi’s voice would fill the air the moment she stepped in, chattering about classes, professors, gossip, anything and everything. Maan would trail behind her with that easy, teasing smirk, half-amused, half-annoyed, tossing playful remarks just to hear her retort. That was their rhythm...light, loud, alive.

But today… there was silence. A heavy, unnatural silence that pressed against the walls.

Both of them walked in with their heads low, steps too careful, too deliberate. No laughter. No teasing. Just that quiet, thick enough to raise every alarm in Arnav’s chest.

He straightened from the sofa immediately, eyes narrowing in concern.
“Are tum dono itni jaldi… kaise aa gaye?” he asked, his tone casual at first, but laced with an edge of unease.

Maan’s answer came delayed, quiet, almost forced. “Classes cancel ho gaye, Bhaiya.”

Arnav nodded slowly, but his frown deepened. He could feel the tension radiating from them, especially from Anvi, who hadn’t even looked up once. “Itne shant kyu ho dono? Kuch hua kya?”

Maan shook his head, eyes fixed somewhere on the floor. “Kuch nahi… bas thak gaye the.” But his voice trembled slightly. Even he didn’t sound convinced.

Arnav’s gaze slid to Anvi. She stood still...shoulders rigid, fists clenched so tight her knuckles whitened. Her lips pressed into a hard line, eyes dark and unreadable.

Not a single word.

Not a single glance in his direction.

“Chutki…” Arnav’s voice softened instinctively, concern threading through every syllable. “Kuch hua hai kya, baccha? Itni chup kyu hai tu?”

No response. Just that barely contained tremor in her frame...like she was holding something back with every ounce of control she had.

And then he saw it, the faint purplish mark blooming on her cheek, just beneath the light. His heart stilled. The air seemed to drop a few degrees.

“Chutki…” he whispered, stepping forward, “ye… ye mark kaise laga?” His tone was no longer calm, it was a sharp blend of disbelief and fury, worry clawing at the edges.

His gaze whipped toward Maan, who immediately froze. “Kya hua hai? Dono chup kyu ho? Ye kaise lagi usse?”

Maan opened his mouth, but no words came out. His throat worked, eyes darting helplessly between Arnav and Anvi. He didn’t know. He genuinely didn’t. And that made his silence ache even more.

Arnav’s voice softened again, though it trembled now, a plea more than a question. He reached out, cupping Anvi’s face with the gentleness of someone terrified of breaking what’s already fragile. “Kya hua college mein, baccha? Bata na… princess, kya hua?”

But the moment his touch met her skin, that tenderness, that concern, something inside Anvi snapped.

Her breath hitched, eyes blazing.
Every suppressed emotion, the humiliation, the helplessness, the fury, tore through the fragile wall she had built.

She stepped back sharply, shaking off his hand, her jaw clenched so tight it hurt. Her small frame trembled, not from fear… but from the volcanic rage she was barely managing to contain.

Anvi’s voice rose, harsh and trembling, each word laced with venom and anguish. “Aapko kyu itni panchayat hai, Bhaiya, haa?… Kya karenge aap jaan ke....boliye!… Aapko hamesha kyu ghusna hota hai dusro ke matter mein?... Din bhar bas Chutki ye, Chutki vo… Maan ye, Maan vo… Are kya problem hai aapki? Aapko kyu ghusna hota hai?”

Her voice cracked but didn’t falter. The rage was spilling out, wild and unfiltered.

The hall went utterly still. Even the air seemed to stop moving. And yet, she kept going.

“Har cheez… har cheez mein aapko ghusna hai! Ye mat karo, vo mat karo, itne baje sona hai, itne baje uthna hai! Har cheez se aapko problem hai!... You are running a fu*** prison!....Damm ghutata hai mera yaha… just stop it! Just stop being a dictator for everyone… and go get yourself a life!”

The words detonated in the silence, thunderous, cruel, too sharp to take back.

Maan stood rooted beside her, disbelief and fury burning through him. His fists clenched, jaw set tight as he stared at his sister. He couldn’t even process it, the tone, the venom in her voice. His eyes blazed with anger, a part of him wanting to shake sense into her, the other too stunned to move.

Aarush flinched violently at her shout, the suddenness of it making him stumble a little. His small hand instinctively clutched Avyuktha’s tighter, seeking safety, comfort, something to hold onto amidst the chaos. Avyuktha immediately pulled him closer, one arm protectively wrapping around him. But her gaze never left Arnav.

The look on his face, that shattered calm, the flicker of agony beneath his stillness, it broke something inside her.

And then CRACK!!

Pari’s hand connected sharply across Anvi’s cheek, mid sentence. The sound echoed through the hall like a whipcrack.

“Enough!” her voice thundered, trembling with fury and disbelief. Her breath came fast, her hand still raised, eyes blazing with tears she refused to let fall.

Anvi froze, the impact silencing her, her hand flying to her burning cheek, eyes wide in shock. The world seemed to tilt for a moment, as realization dawned of what she had just said, to whom she had said it.

Arnav didn’t react. Didn’t even look up. He stood there, unmoving, expression eerily calm but his silence screamed louder than any outburst could. That calm was the kind that came after something inside had already broken. His eyes, though… his eyes still spoke, of betrayal, hurt, and a quiet, hollow ache that made even the strongest heart falter.

Pari’s fury shook through the silence.
“Kya bakwass kar rahi hai, Anvi? Haa? Kya bakwass kar rahi hai! Bhai bas yahi puch rahe the na ki college mein kya hua aur tu… tu ye sab bol rahi hai? Dimag kharab ho gaya hai tera kya?”

Her words cracked with disbelief and protectiveness, the kind that came from love and rage all at once.

Anvi’s chest heaved, tears threatening now, her anger giving way to guilt. She hadn’t meant to lash out at him. Her fury had been at something else entirely, at her helplessness, her own suffocating frustration but she had thrown it straight at the one person who least deserved it.

And in that haunting silence that followed, everyone could feel it, the fracture that had split the air, the ache that hung between a brother and sister who loved each other far too deeply to ever mean this.

Abhimanyu’s silence was terrifying, the kind that screamed louder than words ever could. His jaw was locked, eyes dark and unreadable, a storm caged inside a man known for his control. But this time, it wasn’t the calm of restraint, it was the calm before something catastrophic.

He moved forward slowly, every step radiating fury so intense that even the air seemed to tighten.

Before anyone could breathe, his hand shot out, gripping Anvi’s arm tightly. The suddenness of it made her gasp, her heart lurching in her chest.

He didn’t shout.
He didn’t lose composure.
That made it so much worse.

“Repeat what you said, Anvi Jaisingh,” he said, voice calm, low, and deadly.

The tone sliced through the air. Every breath in the room stilled. Even the faint hum of the ceiling fan seemed to vanish.

Arnav, who had been frozen moments ago, felt a chill crawl up his spine. He had seen Abhimanyu angry before, he knew this silence, this simmering danger. He knew that his Chutki… she couldn’t bear this kind of wrath.

“Mannu…” Arnav stepped forward, his voice trembling, desperate. “Bacchi hai… jaane de. Gusse mein bol diya… chod usse.”

Anvi’s breath hitched as Abhimanyu’s fingers tightened fractionally. His gaze didn’t waver from her...sharp, unblinking, the kind that could strip away every layer of defiance and leave only fear.

“Repeat what you said,” he murmured again, each word a slow, cold strike.

Anvi’s lips parted, but no sound came. Fear had swallowed her whole. Her eyes darted to Arnav, wide and glistening, silently begging for help. Her throat burned, her breath trembling.

Arnav’s heart clenched, he couldn’t bear that look. Not from her. Not when she looked so small, so terrified. He reached forward, his hand wrapping around Abhimanyu’s wrist, gently but firmly pulling him back. “Mannu… Chhod,” he said softly. “Bacchi hai.”

But Abhimanyu didn’t let go. His eyes flicked to Arnav, burning and this time, his anger wasn’t just about the moment. It was deeper, older, laced with memories of seeing Arnav break silently after her careless words before. “Bacchi hai?” he repeated, voice suddenly rising, anger finally cracking through the calm. “Bacchi hai ye?”

The words echoed like a slap in the air. His fury wasn’t blind, it was personal.
Because she hadn’t just insulted anyone. She had thrown venom at the man who had given his life for her....her Bhaiya, the one who had sheltered her through every storm, who had carried her when she couldn’t walk on her own pain.

He turned back to Anvi, who was clutching Arnav’s sleeve now, trembling, knuckles white, tears already welling in her eyes. “What is your age, Anvi?” he asked flatly.

She couldn’t answer. Her throat locked, words refusing to move past the lump of regret already forming inside her.

Abhimanyu took a step forward, the sound of his shoes on the marble floor impossibly loud in the silence. His voice came again, harder this time, louder, sharp enough to cut through her sob.
“I asked something… what is your age, Anvi Jaisingh?”

Her tears spilled over. She choked on her breath, voice cracking like dry glass.
“S-seven…” she stammered, trembling violently. “Seventeen.”

The word hung between them...small, fragile, echoing like an admission of guilt.

Arnav’s hand moved instinctively, shielding her closer, his own heart breaking at the sight of her fear but even more at the memory of her words. He was hurt, shattered even, but the brother in him refused to let her face Abhimanyu’s wrath. He knew what that wrath felt like, knew how it stripped you bare and Anvi wasn’t built for that.
So despite his ache, despite the hollow pain in his chest, he stood between them protecting her once again, because love always overpowered pain for him.

Pari stepped forward, face pale, eyes darting between Abhimanyu and the trembling girl. “Abhi… jaane dijiye,” she said softly, voice quivering with both plea and fear. “Galti ho gayi. Dobara nahi karegi… chhodiye.”

Abhimanyu didn’t move. His gaze was still locked on Anvi...unreadable, but burning with a cold, deadly anger. His silence was worse than shouting.
“Galti ek baar hoti hai, Pari,” he said slowly, his eyes never leaving Anvi. “Aur jab baar baar ek hi cheez repeat ho na… vo galti nahi hoti.”

The words hit like iron. His tone didn’t rise… it dropped, deep and heavy, carrying the weight of the hurt he’d seen before, the night Arnav had locked himself in his study, skipping meals, skipping medicines, working like a man possessed… all because of the same kind of careless words from the same girl now trembling before him.

Abhimanyu’s voice was quiet, but the fury in it was enough to make the ground tremble. “Ye sab iske dil mein baitha hai,” he said coldly, “jo ab gusse mein bahar aa raha hai.”

Pari’s throat went dry. She frowned, desperate, confused. “Abhi… kya keh rahe hain aap? Anvi didn’t mean it. She just said it… impulsively. You know her, Abhi… she’s like that since childhood. She didn’t mean any of that.”

Abhimanyu turned toward her, eyes glinting like tempered glass. His voice lashed out before she could finish. “She means it, Pari. She means it!”

His voice cracked, for the first time. Beneath that fury was pain...pain that came from watching the man he loved like a brother shatter silently again and again.

He looked back at Anvi, his jaw trembling now with emotion he couldn’t contain. “Kuch din pehle bhi isne Arni se yehi sab bola tha… just two weeks ago… She said he was too overbearing for her.”

Pari blinked, stunned. “Abhi…”

He cut her off, voice rising slightly, shaking now. “And you know he did” His hand clenched into a fist by his side, knuckles white. “He stopped taking his medicines.”

The words hit like thunder. The hall fell utterly silent. No one moved.

Abhimanyu’s next words came quieter, broken, his fury now laced with heartbreak. “He was hurt so badly by her words… that he again stopped caring for himself. Just like he did when Maa died.”

And Anvi, she broke.

Her knees weakened, her breaths came shallow. The guilt crashed over her like a wave she couldn’t survive. She hadn’t meant it. God, she hadn’t meant any of it.
It was that fight at college, those filthy words Pratiksha and Apoorva had spat at her, about Arnav being too controlling, too obsessive, it had twisted something in her. In anger, she’d thrown it out at home, without thinking, without realizing she’d just stabbed the one man who’d always fought the world for her.

Now, seeing Abhimanyu’s wrath, seeing Arnav’s hurt, she felt the walls close in. Her love for her Bhaiya burned inside her chest, but so did the guilt.
And standing in front of Abhimanyu’s terrifying calm, she shook violently, not because he’d hurt her, but because she knew she deserved his anger.

And Arnav, standing there, in the middle of it all, knew the truth too. He knew her words were born from hurt, not hate.
But no matter how much pain throbbed in his own heart, the brother in him couldn’t let her break under Abhimanyu’s fury.

So, as always, he stood between them quietly, protectively, even when he was the one bleeding inside.

Every head turned toward Arnav.
The shock. The disbelief. The pain. It was everywhere...thick, suffocating, wrapping the air so tightly that no one could breathe.

Arnav froze, eyes wide, unable to meet anyone’s gaze. He hadn’t wanted this hadn’t wanted them to know. Not like this.

Maan took a hesitant step forward. His face had gone pale, the color drained completely. His voice trembled, laced with disbelief that quickly curdled into fury. “Bhaiya… Bhai sach bol rahe hai? Aapne dawa lena band kar diya tha?… That’s why you became unconscious?”

Arnav didn’t reply. His silence...heavy and unflinching  was answer enough.

Something broke in Maan’s chest. His lips trembled, the hurt twisting into anger. “Aap aisa kaise kar sakte hain, Bhaiya?” he burst out, voice rising, cracking. “KAISE?”

Tears spilled down his cheeks as the words poured faster, his pain finding shape in every syllable. “Aapko hum sabki koi chinta nahi hai? Itni si baat par… ISKI DO MINUTE KI BAKWASS SUNKE… aapne dawai lena band kar diya?”

His voice broke...loud, trembling, unsteady,“Aapko idea bhi hai kal mai kitna darr gaya tha jab Pari di ne bataya aapko kya hua tha?”

Arnav tried to step forward, guilt slicing through every muscle, but Maan backed away sharply. “Nahi, Bhaiya… mat aaiye mere paas.”

His voice cracked again, bitter and wet with tears. “Aapko sirf iski padi hai na?” He looked toward Anvi, trembling, fury bleeding into heartbreak, then back at Arnav. “Ek baar bhi nahi socha… agar aapko kuch ho gaya toh main kya karunga?”

His composure crumbled completely. He wiped his face roughly, shoulders shaking with ragged sobs. “Main aapka bhai nahi hoon kya… aapko hum sabki koi parvah nahi… For two week... TWO WEEKS BHAIYA... I was thinking you are very busy...but you ignored us deliberately... you would go early and come back late... I thought you were busy... but no... you were ignoring us... just like you did back then... Don't talk to me...JUST DON'T TALK TO ME EVER AGAIN..”

He turned and walked away, each step loud, echoing, final...the sound tearing through the hall like glass shattering.

Arnav stood frozen, chest heavy, heart constricting painfully. Every word from Maan hit like punishment, the kind he knew he deserved.

Because Maan wasn’t just angry… he was aching. It wasn’t just about the medicine. It was about every quiet morning when Arnav had left before breakfast, every silent dinner he’d missed, every night he’d come home late pretending it was work. Maan had believed him. Trusted him. Convinced himself his Bhaiya was just busy.

But now, knowing the truth, that Arnav had shut himself away, worked himself sick, just because Anvi had said something harsh, it shattered him completely.

He couldn’t understand how the same man who endured pain, who fought for everyone, had chosen to suffer quietly instead of fighting for them. For him.

It reminded him too much of the old ache, the one that never fully healed. The nights when their father used to leave without a word, stay gone for months, and come back only to disappear again.
Back then, Maan had learned to live with the hollow. But this time it was Arnav, the one person he believed would never do that, walking the same path, ignoring them just for different reasons.

And it broke something raw and deep inside him.

Maan’s fury toward Anvi flared darker too. Knowing that his Bhaiya, the man who carried the whole family, had crumbled because of her words, because she’d lashed out, made his anger burn even hotter. It wasn’t just anger anymore, it was grief disguised as rage, heartbreak turned to fire.

While for Arnav… every word from Maan tore open a truth he had been hiding from himself.

He had told himself he was protecting his mind, that drowning in work was better than overthinking, that isolation was safer than breaking down. But he hadn’t realized what that silence had done.

In protecting himself, he had punished Abhimaan too, his Maan, his child.

He hadn’t meant to neglect him. But he had. And now, the guilt sat heavy...brutal, merciless, in his chest.

It wasn’t Maan’s fault. Yet Arnav’s distance had made Maan pay for a wound he didn’t cause.

And the realization ached worse than the pain that had started it all.

And through the tension, Abhimanyu stood still. He had been watching everything, every flicker of guilt in Arnav’s eyes, every tremor of horror on Anvi’s face. His anger had long stopped burning, what remained now was exhaustion… and heartbreak.

When he finally spoke, his voice was calm...too calm. The kind that came when someone was done shouting and had chosen silence as the sharper weapon. “You find Arni overbearing, right?”

Anvi’s breath hitched, her head shaking frantically. “N..no… no…”

Abhimanyu lifted a hand, palm out, stopping her mid word. “Save it.”

His gaze lingered on her for a long, terrible moment before turning to Arnav. His next words came like a blade drawn with quiet precision. “Tujhe meri kasam hai, Arni,” he said flatly. “From now on, you won’t interfere in her life. She can go wherever she wants, do whatever she wants. Tu nahi bolega.”

Arnav’s eyes widened, disbelief and hurt mixing in his gaze. “Mannu, kya bol raha hai tu? Bacchi hai wo...”

Abhimanyu’s jaw tightened. His voice was heavy, final. “Tujhe meri kasam hai, Arni. She said you should get a life, right? You will. She wants freedom, let her have it. From now on, you stay away from her choices.”

The words sliced through the air. Everyone could feel the weight behind them. Because Abhimanyu knew exactly what he was doing. He knew this vow would wound them both...Arnav and Anvi. For Arnav, staying away from Anvi would feel like tearing off a piece of his soul, for Anvi, knowing her Bhaiya would obey Abhimanyu’s word without question was a punishment harsher than any slap. But Abhimanyu also knew this cruelty was necessary.

Because sometimes love needed boundaries. Because words, once shot like arrows, could never be taken back.
And this was the second time Anvi’s words had cut too deep...deeper than she understood.

He turned back to her slowly, his tone no louder than before, but every syllable carried weight enough to crush. “You had the audacity to belittle the love Arnav gave you,” he said, his voice trembling now with restrained emotion. “You hurt the man who’s given up his entire life for you.”

A long pause. His jaw clenched, eyes glistening but cold. “You hurt my Arni, Anvi. And I won’t ever forgive you for that.”

The final words fell like stones in still water, leaving ripples of dread and sorrow behind.

He looked at her one last time, eyes dark with pain too deep to name. “If it wasn’t for him,” he said quietly, pointing toward Arnav, “you’d already be six feet under... for hurting My Arni this much.”

“Mannu, bas kar,” Arnav said sharply, stepping forward, his voice firmer. “Darr rahi hai vo…”

“Kyu bas karu, Arni?” Abhimanyu snapped, his grief now trembling through his tone. “Jab ye BAKWASS kar rahi thi, tab kyu nahi bola tune?”

He grabbed Arnav’s shoulders, his grip unsteady, not from rage, but from heartbreak. “Agar yahi baat isne kisi aur ke baare mein boli hoti, toh tu thappad maar deta usse. But when it comes to you…” his voice broke, “you stand like a statue and LISTEN TO EVERYTHING QUIETLY.”

He let go, fingers curling into fists as he turned away, running a hand through his hair in helpless frustration. His voice was raw now, stripped bare. “Kyu karta hai tu aisa, Arni… kab lega khud ke liye stand…”

He didn’t wait for a reply. Without another word, he turned and walked away, his footsteps heavy with unspoken anguish, Pari hurrying silently after him.

Arnav stood there, motionless. Guilt and pain coursed through him like poison, eating him from the inside. He knew Abhimanyu wasn’t wrong. Every word had been a brutal truth.

Anvi cried quietly, her sobs small and broken, her gaze fixed on the floor.
And little Avyuktha, clutching Aarush to her chest, watched the world she knew, her new family....shatter before her eyes.

As the echoes of footsteps faded, silence fell like shattered glass.

Anvi’s knees gave way. She collapsed to the cold marble floor, her palms flat against it as sobs tore out of her chest. Her whole body trembled under the weight of what she’d done.

She didn’t mean it. Not a word of it.
It had been anger...stupid, reckless anger but her words had been arrows, and they’d hit the one person who least deserved it.

Her Bhaiya.

And now he wouldn’t even look at her.
Worse...he couldn’t, because Abhimanyu’s vow, was sacred to him. She knew it. Everyone did. Arnav would never break Abhimanyu’s vow. He’d rather bleed quietly than defy the brother who’d held him together all these years.

That realization tore her apart. The thought that her Bhaiya, who once couldn’t bear to see her cry, would now walk past her without a word, without a glance, swallowed her whole.

She wanted to run to him, fall at his feet, beg for forgiveness but the weight of her words crushed her in place. She couldn’t even look up.

She had disappointed them all, the people she would take a bullet for and instead, she’d become the one who fired the shot.

Her sobs grew harder, desperate, her breath breaking as guilt clawed through her chest.

Arnav stood a few feet away, frozen.
Every cry from her hit him like a whip, reopening wounds that hadn’t yet healed. His hand lifted instinctively, aching to hold her, to comfort his little Chutki but the echo of her voice stabbed him again. Get a life of your own.

His chest tightened. He took a step forward… and stopped. His heart screamed to pull her close, but his feet wouldn’t move. The vow held him in place like shackles made of love and guilt.

He closed his eyes, every breath uneven, and then… he turned away.

Without a word, he walked toward his room. The soft sound of his retreating footsteps disappeared under the sound of Anvi’s muffled cries.

From the corner, two pairs of wide, trembling eyes had seen everything...Avyuktha’s.

She saw the way Arnav’s fingers shook before he turned away. She saw the way Anvi broke, piece by piece, on the marble floor.

Before she could move, Aarush toddled forward. His little steps echoed faintly as he stopped in front of Anvi, his small face filled with worry. Gently, he lifted his chubby hands and wiped her tears, his touch clumsy but so heartbreakingly tender.

Anvi blinked through her tears, staring at him blankly before pulling him into her arms. Her sobs quieted into shudders as she buried her face in his shoulder, his tiny hands patting her back in an innocent imitation of comfort.

Avyuktha’s throat burned. She knelt beside them, brushing a hand over Aarush’s head and whispered softly, her voice trembling, “Tu didi ke paas rehna… main Bhaiya ke paas jaa rahi hoon.”

Aarush nodded, his little eyes serious in a way only children’s could be when they sensed grown up pain.

Avyuktha turned, her tiny feet padding toward Arnav’s room, heart heavy but brave.

Behind her, Anvi clung tighter to Aarush, as if that small heartbeat was the only thing still holding her together.

The hallway outside Arnav’s room was drenched in silence...that heavy, suffocating kind that clung to the skin and refused to leave. Avyuktha stood still for a moment, her small fingers trembling as they brushed against the half-open door. The air inside felt colder… heavier… like grief itself had taken shape and settled in every corner.

She pushed the door open softly.

Arnav sat at the edge of the bed, shoulders slightly hunched, eyes closed, as if the darkness behind his eyelids was easier to bear than the one waiting outside. His hands rested loosely on his knees, motionless, his breathing uneven and shallow. He looked like a man holding himself together by a thread too thin to last another second.

Avyuktha didn’t say a word. She simply watched him, the rise and fall of his chest, the faint tremor in his fingers, the weight of silence pressing down on him. Then, with slow, uncertain steps, she climbed onto the bed and sat beside him, close enough that he could feel her presence, far enough that he could ignore it if he needed to.

For a long time, nothing moved. The ticking of the clock felt distant, almost cruel, as though time itself had abandoned the room.

Then Avyuktha shifted closer. Her little arms slipped around him...soft, hesitant, but sure.

Arnav startled. His eyes flew open, a sharp breath leaving him as though the touch had pulled him out of a nightmare. For a second, he just froze, staring down at the tiny arms wrapped around him, at the quiet trust of the little girl who didn’t ask anything, didn’t expect anything, she just held him.

And then, slowly, something inside him cracked. His hands lifted...trembling, uncertain before he drew her closer, holding her tight, as if her small warmth was the only thing keeping him from shattering completely.

He pressed his chin gently against her head, his eyes squeezing shut again, this time not to hide, but to hold on.

No words were spoken. None were needed. The silence between them was thick...not empty, but alive with the ache of everything they couldn’t say.

Avyuktha’s fingers found his hand and began tracing small circles across his knuckles...slow, rhythmic, grounding. Each touch seemed to pull him back from that hollow edge, one breath at a time.

Arnav’s chest rose and fell unevenly. The mask he’d worn for so long...the calm, the control, the strength, cracked beneath the weight of that tiny embrace.

And so they sat there, side by side, two fragile souls in a room that had seen too many storms, a man who’d forgotten how to breathe, and a child who reminded him how.

∆∆∆

The door shut behind them with a dull thud, swallowing the last echoes of raised voices. The room fell into a heavy, suffocating silence. Abhimanyu stood by the window, one hand pressed flat against the cold glass, his reflection fractured by the city lights outside. The fury that had once burned in him was gone now, what remained was exhaustion, the kind that seeped into the bones.

Pari stood a few steps away, watching him quietly. The man who had moments ago commanded the entire hall with unflinching authority now looked… undone. His shoulders were drawn tight, the veins on his forearm tense as his hand trembled faintly against the windowpane.

He didn’t move for a long while. His chest rose unevenly, each breath a silent struggle between guilt and conviction.

When he finally spoke, his voice was rough, barely there “Bahut ro rhi thi na vo…”

The words broke something inside him. They came out low, weighted, carrying the kind of pain only love could cause.

He didn’t have to say her name, Pari already saw her in his silence. The image of Anvi’s tear-streaked face, her trembling form, her frightened eyes flinching at every raised voice, it was all there, reflected in his guilt. He loved her like his own, had raised her like a daughter, and seeing her standing there, small, guilty, scared, had torn through him in a way he couldn’t contain.

Pari’s eyes softened. She understood his conflict too well, how deeply he loved, how ruthlessly he protected, even when it meant becoming the villain for the sake of the ones he loved most. What he did tonight had hurt him as much as it hurt her.

She stepped closer, her hand brushing against his arm, then down to his wrist. His skin was cold, his pulse heavy beneath her touch. His body went rigid, not in rejection, but like a man on the verge of breaking who didn’t know how to fall apart without collapsing completely.

He didn’t look at her, only let his forehead rest against the glass, the cool surface grounding him. The weight of his choices pressed against him from all sides, his own words echoing like wounds he couldn’t undo.

Pari moved closer still, resting her head lightly against his shoulder. Her silence steadied him, soft and constant, a quiet promise that he wasn’t alone in his torment.

A single tear slid down his cheek. His voice came out low, cracked, and trembling “I’m sorry.”

The words shattered the last of his restraint.

Pari didn’t speak, didn’t try to console him. She simply stood there with him, her presence enough to keep him from collapsing completely.

Because she knew, he wasn’t sorry for the act itself. He was sorry for the pain it caused, for the faces that would haunt him tonight, for the family he had just fractured in the hope of fixing it stronger.

In that quiet, dimly lit room, Abhimanyu Rathore, the man who never bowed, never broke, stood bowed at last. Not in defeat, but in remorse. And Pari… she held his trembling hand, knowing this was his kind of love, the kind that would bleed if it meant saving the ones he’d die for.

Because sometimes, to rebuild something unbreakable, you have to first let it shatter completely.

___________________________________________

Thanks for reading!

1. How did you find the chapter, did it leave you speechless, heartbroken, or both?

2. What do you think will unfold next? Any predictions?

3. Do you think Anvi will ever find the courage to apologise?

4. And even if she does… will they be able to forgive her?

5. Share how you’d like to see Anvi apologise to each member of the family, your version of her redemption arc.

6. What’s your take on Abhimanyu’s decision....fair or too harsh?

7. Do you think Arnav will end up breaking the vow he made to Abhimanyu?

8. Will Arnav’s fatherly instinct overpower the brotherly promise he gave?

9. Was Anvi right when she called Arnav overbearing… or do you think she misunderstood him?

P.S.---- Get ready... Viren Jaisingh coming soon👀