Chapter: The Hurt Of Loving Them Too Much

The study felt heavier than usual, as if the air itself had thickened under the weight of Arnav’s anger. He stood near the desk, the ruler resting quietly on the table beside him...not lifted, not touched, just lying there with a terrifying kind of calm that made the room feel smaller. His eyes were locked on Anvi, their fury so sharp it could have cut straight through her if she dared to look up. She didn’t. Her gaze stayed glued to the floor, shoulders pulled inward, breath uneven as guilt pressed down on her like an invisible hand.

Beside her, Maan stood stiff, dread curling tight in his stomach. He knew exactly what he had done, what both he and Anvi had done and now there was nothing left except to wait for Arnav to speak. The silence in the room felt alive, sharp, stretching so long it made his throat dry and his heartbeat loud in his ears.

He kept glancing between Anvi and Arnav, too terrified to meet Arnav’s eyes for more than a second, too helpless to offer Anvi even a whisper of comfort. How could he, when he himself had misused Arnav’s trust and hurt him just as badly?

His fingers twitched at his sides, and despite trying not to, his gaze drifted to the ruler lying on the desk...cold, still, and without effort becoming the most dreaded thing in his entire life. His breath hitched. Whatever was coming… it wasn’t going to be light.

Arnav’s jaw was set, the muscle ticking once as his grip on the ruler shifted just slightly. Even that small movement sent a fresh wave of tension rolling through the room. His glare stayed locked on Anvi, and each second she refused to lift her head seemed to feed the storm in him. Maan could almost feel the anger radiating from him, thick and hot, filling every corner of the study until it felt hard to breathe.

There was no sound except the faint hum of the AC and the quiet thud of Maan’s own heartbeat echoing in his ears. Anvi stood motionless beside him, her guilt weighing her down, while Arnav’s fury simmered, restrained only by the last threads of his control. And Maan, caught between the two, could do nothing but wait tense, and unable to shake the unsettling feeling that whatever came next was not going to be gentle.

The silence finally cracked under Arnav’s voice...calm, controlled, and cold enough to send a tremor down Anvi’s spine. “Anvi, I am running on a very thin line of patience. Don’t test me. Look up when I talk to you.”

Anvi’s breath hitched. She lifted her head immediately, but the moment her eyes met Arnav’s furious stare, her courage crumbled. The heat in his gaze was unbearable, forcing her to drop her eyes again. That single movement...small, shaky, only fed the fury simmering in him. He stepped forward, each stride sharp and deliberate, and his voice cut through the air. “Jab pehle sharam nahi aayi toh ab kyun sir jhuka ke khadi ho… LOOK UP.”

This time she obeyed, though her eyes were already filling. The tears spilled before she could blink them back, streaking down her cheeks as she struggled to hold his gaze. Arnav exhaled through his nose, a sharp, frustrated sound, and snapped, “WIPE YOUR TEARS....RIGHT NOW.”

Anvi flinched at the tone, her hands trembling as she tried to obey, but before she could even lift them, Maan’s voice broke in...soft, instinctive. “Bhaiya… darr rahi hai vo.”

Arnav turned to him with a glare that could have cut through stone. “Darr rahi hai vo, huh? Darr rahi hai vo.” He looked back at Anvi, his expression hardening further. “Yeh darr tab kaha tha jab raat mein akele bike ride pe nikal gayi? Huh?”

Maan’s shoulders sank. He understood. This wasn’t anger without reason. Anvi had crossed a line...recklessly, stupidly and this time, there wasn’t anything he could say in her defense. He lowered his eyes, staying silent, choosing not to interfere any further.

Arnav’s voice dropped, steady and commandingly even. “Anvi. Come here.”

Anvi’s fear spiked. She shook her head, taking a hesitant step back. Maan closed his eyes for a moment, mentally cursing her decision, stepping back was the worst thing she could have done right now.

Arnav’s jaw clenched. “Anvi, agar main aaya na… toh accha nahi hoga.”

But she stayed frozen, neither moving forward nor speaking, caught somewhere between guilt and fear.

That was it.
The last thread of Arnav’s patience snapped.

In a swift, sharp motion, the ruler cracked across Anvi’s forearm, the sound echoing through the study like a shockwave. She jerked back, eyes wide with pain, but before she could even process the sting, Arnav’s voice thundered, each word cutting clean and merciless.

“EK BAAR KI BAAT SAMAJH NHI AATI?”

The air trembled again, thick with fear, fury, and the consequences of a mistake that could no longer be hidden behind tears.

Arnav stepped closer until he was standing directly in front of Anvi. She didn’t dare look away this time, her eyes stayed locked on his, trembling under the fury blazing there. The anger in his gaze made her breathing uneven, and her fingers tightened instinctively around the arm that still throbbed from the first strike. Her tears hovered at the edge again, blurring her vision, but she forced herself to stay still.

“How dare you,” Arnav said, the words low and dangerous and before she could even blink, the ruler came down again on her arm with a sharp, unforgiving crack.

“Ahh..” the cry escaped her, her other hand flying up to rub the stinging skin. The sound of the impact echoed sharply in the room, making even Maan flinch, his jaw tensing as he watched helplessly.

“How dare you sneak out?” Arnav’s voice rose a fraction, still controlled but trembling with the kind of anger that came from fear, not rage.

He drew in a slow, sharp breath, forcing control back into his tone as he asked, “What is your age, Anvi?”

She swallowed hard, voice cracking as she stuttered, “Se… seven… seventeen.”

“And do you have a license?” he asked, eyes narrowing.

Anvi shook her head slowly, hesitantly, her gaze fixed on him with wide, scared eyes.

The ruler struck again, harder this time, cracking against her forearm with a force that sent her stumbling back a step. She cried out,"AHH..." tears spilling over, while Maan winced as if the strike had landed on him instead.

“THEN WHY THE HELL WERE YOU DRIVING?” Arnav’s voice snapped, it was far worse. It was cold. Controlled. Each word was laced with disbelief and fury and the fear of what could have happened to her.

Anvi could only cry, clutching her arm, the sting burning through her skin while Arnav’s anger burned through the room.

Maan watched silently, feeling each strike, each word. He understood Arnav’s fury. He understood Anvi’s fear. And he stood between the two worlds, helpless, tense, and unable to do anything but witness the storm tearing into both of them.

How did you sneak out?” Arnav’s voice was steady, but there was a dangerous edge beneath it, an edge Anvi recognized instantly.

The question rooted her to the spot. Her throat closed, her stomach twisted, and she knew in that second that she was doomed. Telling the truth meant inviting more anger. Lying… she didn’t even have the courage for that. Her voice wavered, small and broken. “S..sorry, bhaiya.”

Arnav closed his eyes for half a second, as if begging the universe for patience he no longer had. When he spoke again, the calmness was gone; the restraint was paper thin. “That’s not the answer to my question, Anvi.”

She trembled, fingers curling tightly around the skin of her arm. She tried to form the words, but fear stole her breath. “I… I…” She swallowed, choking on the truth before forcing it out. “I jumped down the garden wall.”

The effect was immediate.
Both Arnav and Maan froze.

For a moment, the room itself seemed to stop breathing.

They had assumed she’d slipped out through the second exit, stupid, reckless, but manageable. But the garden wall…fifteen feet high, uneven, lined with marble edges that could shatter bones if she slipped even slightly. One wrong step. One misbalance. One moment of panic. That’s all it would have taken to break her spine, crack her head, or worse.

Arnav felt something cold coil through his chest, something darker than anger. Fear. And that fear poured into fury so fast he didn’t even realize when the control snapped.

Before Anvi could even blink, the ruler came down on her arm with a vicious snap.

Once.

Twice.

The strikes landed fast...four in total, two on each arm and each one made her yelp, "AAAAHHH..." She cried stumbling backward, tears streaming down her face. She didn’t even try to shield herself, she was too shocked, too scared, too overwhelmed to move. The pain burned across her skin, sharp and raw, but the terror in her chest was worse.

Maan flinched with every strike, his nails digging into his palms. He felt his heart jump into his throat at the words “garden wall,” and now the sight of Anvi shrinking under the blows made something inside him twist painfully. But he stayed where he was, not because he didn’t want to step in, but because he knew Arnav’s fury wasn’t mindless. It was the kind born from imagining her blood on the ground, her body broken at the foot of that wall.

Anvi cried harder," Ahhh...Snffle… snffle… snff…” clutching her arms, barely able to breathe as the weight of her mistake finally crushed her.

Arnav stood rigid in front of her, chest rising and falling sharply, the ruler still shaking in his grip, not from anger alone, but from the terror of what could have happened to her in the dark, alone, on the other side of that fifteen foot wall.

Arnav’s breaths were still uneven, the ruler trembling slightly in his grip though his face remained carved into a cold, unreadable mask. When he spoke, his voice was stripped of emotion...flat, deadpan, and far more terrifying than the anger from moments before. “Where did you get the keys, Anvi?”

The question made her entire body lock. She knew there was no point hiding anything now. She had crossed every line. She had broken every limit of recklessness. And yet, standing in front of him with her arms burning and her throat tight with fear, she realized something far worse, lying would only dig her grave deeper.

Her lips trembled. Her voice came out in a whisper so faint it barely existed. “I… I took it… from your study.”

Maan’s eyes snapped wide in disbelief. He had known she sneaked out. He had known she took the bike. But this, stealing the keys from Arnav’s own study, this was new, and even his breath caught in his chest. He looked at her with shock, then at Arnav, realizing just how badly she had crossed the line.

Arnav didn’t react immediately because he had already known. He had checked the drawer. He had seen the keys missing. He had connected every dot long before she confessed. But hearing her say it aloud, hearing the truth from her own mouth, made something inside him finally snap.

The ruler came down again, fast and merciless, smacking across her arm with a crack that felt like it split the air in two.

“YOU STOLE IT FROM MY STUDY?”

Anvi cried out, "Ahhh...sorryy bhaiya" stumbling back, her hands flying to her throbbing arm. Tears spilled uncontrollably, blending fear, pain, and the crushing realization of how far she had pushed him.

Maan flinched hard at the sound, chest tightening painfully, but the shock in his eyes said everything, he had never imagined she would dare something this reckless, this dangerous, this disrespectful.

Arnav’s face remained hard, but beneath the fury was something even sharper: betrayal… and the bone deep fear of what could have happened because of her choice.

Arnav didn’t hold back anymore. The fear, the anger, the sheer disbelief at Anvi’s recklessness, all of it burst out of him in a fury that could no longer be restrained. The ruler struck down with each accusation, each word delivered like a blow.

“YOU STOLE THE BIKE KEYS...” SMACK.

Anvi jerked violently, crying out as the pain shot up her arm, "Aahhh.... "

“YOU CLIMBED THE GARDEN WALL...” SMACK.

Her knees buckled, and she barely caught herself.

“YOU DROVE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT...” SMACK.

Tears streamed down her face, uncontrollable, burning.

“YOU OVERSPEEDED...” SMACK.

Her breath broke into sobs, the sting on her skin almost blurring with the terror in her chest.

“YOU LEFT YOUR PHONE AT HOME...” SMACK.

Each smack getting harder, not just in pain, but in what it meant, she had vanished into the night without a trace… and he hadn’t known if she was alive or dead.

Arnav lifted the ruler again, rage and fear mixing until his hand shook.

But before the next blow could land, Maan moved.

Instinct overrode everything...fear, guilt, the risk of facing Arnav’s wrath. He stepped forward sharply, pushing Anvi behind him, his arms spreading out without thinking. “Bhaiya, bas kariye please…” His voice cracked with panic, the sound raw and desperate.

Arnav snapped his head toward him, fury still burning wild in his eyes. “Rukiye, Abhimaan ji,” he bit out, words sharp as the strikes he had just delivered. “Abhi aap hi pe aa rahe hain.”

Maan froze.

The words hit him harder than any ruler could. His breath caught, and he felt the blood drain from his face.

Behind him, Anvi was crying bitterly, shoulders shaking, her arms throbbing with a deep, stinging pain that made it hard to even hold them still. Every strike left her skin burning, but none of it compared to the weight of guilt crushing her chest. She knew she deserved this. She knew she had crossed every line of trust and safety. And now, watching Maan get pulled into it because of her, the pain became unbearable in a different way.

She clutched her arms close, sobbing softly, wishing she could take everything back… wishing she could undo the fear she had caused… wishing she hadn’t put Arnav and now Maan, through this.

Arnav inhaled sharply, trying but failing to steady himself. His voice, when it came, was low and controlled, but the fury beneath it was unmistakable. “You taught her how to drive, right?”

Maan felt his heart plummet. His throat dried. He shook his head instinctively, stepping back a little, fear tightening every muscle in him. “N..nhi, nhi bhaiya…” he stammered. The lie slipped out before he could think.Desperation pushed it and fear shaped it.

“Aap… aapne toh sikhaya tha isse,” he added quickly, clinging to the excuse like it might save him.

But it didn’t.

The moment the lie left his mouth, Arnav’s expression changed, something dark, something sharp flickering across his eyes he gritted his teeth And then

SMACK!

The ruler cracked against Maan’s arm with a force that jolted him, his gasp escaping before he could stop it. Tears stung his eyes instantly.

“I TAUGHT HER HOW TO DRIVE A CAR,” Arnav thundered, stepping forward as he brought the ruler down on Maan’s arm again. SMACK. “IN CASE OF ANY EMERGENCY.”

Maan winced hard,"Isshhh..." clutching the burning skin.

“It was YOU who taught her how to ride a bike.” Another strike. SMACK.

Maan flinched violently, his breath breaking, but he didn’t move away. He couldn’t. “And that too,” Arnav’s voice shook with fury, “BEHIND MY BACK.”
The next hit landed with a brutal crack, forcing a choked sound out of Maan, "Aahhh... ".

He stood there trembling, hands wrapped around his arms where the ruler had struck, tears pooling in his eyes. His chest tightened as he looked up at Arnav...not in defiance, but in guilt, fear, and a desperate hope that the storm might finally settle.

But Arnav wasn’t done.

He leaned closer, his voice dropping back into that terrifying deadpan that was far worse than shouting. “Didn’t I tell you… to NOT teach her how to ride the bike?”

Maan nodded immediately, tears spilling, unable to hide the tremor running through him.

Arnav’s voice rose again, sharp and cutting. “Then WHY did you teach her?”

Maan swallowed hard, stumbling over his words. “S...sorry, bhaiya… mujhe nahi pata tha she would…” His voice cracked, the guilt choking him. He hadn’t imagined Anvi would ever misuse it. He hadn’t imagined she’d sneak out. He hadn’t imagined any of this.

But intentions didn’t matter anymore.

The consequences were here...burning, stinging, and terrifying.

Arnav exhaled sharply, frustration and annoyance simmering under his calm tone. “Mujhe pata tha,” he said, voice tight, almost pained, “isliye maine mana kiya tha.”

He turned his gaze toward both Maan and Anvi, eyes sharp and unrelenting. “Lekin tumlog ko toh baat sunani nahi hai.”

The ruler hit the side of the room with a sharp clang, flying from his hand and making both of them flinch instinctively at the sudden sound. Arnav’s expression darkened further, irritation radiating off him. “Mai toh gadha hoon, right?....Overbearing, toxic” he said, voice dripping with exasperation as he looked at them both, utterly annoyed. “Mujhe toh bas maza aata hai tumlog ko rules mein bandh ke rakhne mein.”

Maan stepped forward slightly, shaking his head, voice shaky but determined. “Nhi, bhaiya… aisa nahi hai.”

Arnav didn’t respond immediately. He raised a hand, pausing as if weighing whether to strike again.

The room grew silent, the weight of his presence pressing down on them both, leaving no room to breathe, no room to escape. The air itself seemed to thrum with the promise of consequences that had only just begun.

As if the universe itself had decided to turn against Anvi, Arnav suddenly paused, his eyes narrowing as a memory resurfaced. Without a word, he bent down and picked up the scale from the floor again. The slow bend of his body and the calm, deliberate movement of his hand were far more terrifying than any raised voice. Anvi and Maan stiffen instantly. Their bodies reacted before their minds could, each taking a step back, instinctively creating distance from the man whose fury had already shattered their courage.

Arnav straightened, holding the ruler loosely, not even gripping it tightly, because he didn’t need to. His control, his rage, his disappointment… it all sat in the stillness of his posture. And when he spoke, his voice was a dead, emotionless calm that drained the air from the room.

“Anvi… you go to college everyday, but why was the dean saying you are not coming for an entire week?”

That one question hit harder than any smack of the ruler. Anvi’s breathing hitched, her chest tightening as if someone had suddenly gripped her lungs. Her eyes widened, fear flooding them so quickly that tears spilled without warning. Her hand reached out blindly and clutched Maan’s arm, fingers digging into his bruised skin.

Maan flinched, not just from fear but because the places where Arnav had struck him still burned sharply beneath her grip. His arm throbbed with every small movement, the stinging pain pulsing under his skin, yet when Anvi held onto him, trembling, he didn’t pull away. Even through his own tears, he stood there, shaken, hurting, and terrified, but unwilling to loosen his hold on her.

Arnav’s expression didn’t flicker. Not with pity. Not with hesitation. Not with anything resembling mercy.

“Tell me, Anvi… why were you not attending the classes even after going to college everyday?”

The words sliced through whatever composure she had left. Anvi froze completely, her fingers tightening around Maan’s aching arm, her nails pressing harder as if holding onto him might shield her from Arnav’s gaze. Her mind blanked out, her throat closed, and every possible answer evaporated before she could form it. She couldn’t look away from him...couldn’t run, couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe properly.

The room felt smaller, darker, suffocating because Arnav wasn’t relenting. Not now. Not when the truth had started unraveling. Not after everything she had done. She had crossed every line he had drawn to keep her safe, and he wasn’t about to let silence save her now.

Anvi’s grip on Maan’s arm tightened until her fingers trembled, her whole body shaking as sobs choked her voice. “Bhaiya I’m sorry… I’m sorry…” she managed to whisper between sniffles, tears running down her face in thin, uneven trails. Her breathing hitched painfully, every apology spilling out like a plea for air.

Arnav didn’t react...not with softness, not with sympathy. His voice remained a chilling deadpan, each word landing heavier than the last. “That’s not the answer to my question.”

The cold calm in his tone made Maan swallow hard. He stood there frozen, his own eyes glossy with tears, terrified of saying anything that might ignite Arnav’s anger further.

Anvi hiccupped through her sobs, struggling to quiet herself, because she knew better than anyone that Arnav hated when she cried after making a mistake, hated when her tears tried to play the victim. But she couldn’t stop. The fear, the guilt, the pain on her arms, the shame of every reckless choice, all of it was drowning her.

Arnav’s jaw tightened. His patience was hanging by the thinnest thread. “Anvi, don’t make me repeat myself. It won’t end well for you.”

The warning shattered whatever fragile composure she had left. A broken sob escaped her lips before she even realized it. She squeezed her eyes shut, took a shaky breath, and forced herself to speak even though the words trembled out of her. “Bhaiya… I’m sorry… vo vo K… Keshav… nhi aa raha tha… isliye… isliye maine bunk maar liya tha bhaiya… I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”

She confessed everything in one breath because she knew lying any further would only bury her deeper. The truth tasted bitter, humiliating, and she couldn’t even look up at Arnav while she said it.

Arnav didn’t seem surprised because he wasn’t. He had known all along. He had only asked to see whether she would confess the truth or choose the coward’s way out. Her honesty didn’t soften him, but it settled something in his eyes, a flicker of confirmation.

“Come here, Anvi,” he said quietly.

Her reaction was immediate and desperate. She shook her head wildly, breaths coming in broken gasps. “I’m sorry bhaiya please I’m sorry...” she cried, clinging to Maan as if her life depended on it, fingers digging into his already bruised arm.

Arnav’s gaze flickered to her face, really looked at her and the fear in her eyes stabbed directly into his chest. His heart ached so sharply it almost stopped his breath. For a moment, just a moment, his façade nearly cracked. But he forced every trace of softness away, locking it behind the same wall he used to protect them all. He couldn’t break now. He couldn’t lessen the consequences. He couldn’t let emotion undo the lesson she needed to learn.

So he masked the ache, straightened, and waited...cold, unyielding, and heartbreakingly resolute.

Arnav stepped forward, intending to pull Anvi out from behind Maan, but the moment he moved, her grip tightened around Maan’s arm so fiercely that her knuckles whitened. Fear shot through her eyes, raw and unfiltered, and before Arnav could even reach her, Maan instinctively shifted, placing himself fully between them. His voice shook, thick with tears, pleading in a way he hadn’t in years. “Bhaiya please… jaane dijiye, bacchi hai… phir nhi karegi… please…”

But Arnav didn’t soften. He didn’t even blink. His attention snapped to Maan entirely now, his gaze sharp enough to cut through the weak excuse. “Did you know about her bunks?”

Maan’s breath caught and his eyes dropped instantly. Shame washed across his face because yes, he knew. As her elder brother, he should have scolded her, stopped her, guided her. Instead, he had lied for her… indulged her careless excuses… fallen for her silly puppy faces like he always did. His voice barely came out as he nodded slowly, accepting the weight of his failure.

Arnav exhaled sharply, the sound slicing through the air like a blade. “Anvi, come here. RIGHT NOW.”

The shout echoed off the walls, making both siblings jerk in fear. Anvi’s entire body trembled violently, but she forced herself to move. Every step felt like knives in her legs, and she finally stood before him, eyes darting helplessly between his face and the ruler in his hand. Tears streamed down her cheeks, her sobs breaking through even though she tried desperately to swallow them back. The more she tried to control her crying, the worse it became.

Arnav stared at her for a long, unbearable moment. Then without a word, he turned, walked to the table, and placed the ruler down. The silence that followed was almost worse than the smacks, it made Anvi’s breath hitch, made Maan’s heart stutter.

Arnav came back, standing in front of her, his voice firm but no longer harsh. “Anvi, should I cancel your admission and get you admitted into a new college?”

Anvi shook her head quickly, wiping tears with the back of her hand, terrified of what that would mean.

Arnav didn’t give her time to collapse. “Keshav agar college nahi jayega toh tum apni padhai likhai chhor dogi?”

She shook her head again, swallowing hard.

“Lekin kiya toh tumne aisa hi…” he said, the disappointment in his tone heavier than the ruler had ever been. “Tell me, should I get you both enrolled in different colleges?”

Anvi’s breath broke; she shook her head frantically. “N… nhi… I’m sorry…” Her voice was small, shattered, barely above a whisper.

Arnav looked at her for a long second before speaking again, this time not angry but painfully disappointed. “Anvi, tum 12–13 saal ki bacchi ho? Ki mera friend nahi aaya toh main bhi nahi jaungi, huh?” The soft chiding hit harder than any scolding, it stripped her down with the truth she couldn’t deny.

Anvi shook her head quickly, tears falling again. “Dobara nhi hoga, bhaiya… pakka… I’m sorry…” Her apology came out in a trembling, broken whisper, every word heavy with guilt.

Arnav’s gaze shifted from her to Maan, both of them crying, both hurting, both terrified and something twisted brutally inside his chest. His heart ached so sharply that it almost forced him to step forward and pull them close. But he couldn’t...not yet. He had to stay firm, had to hold the line, had to breathe through the pain.

He took a step back instead, ran a hand through his hair with a rough exhale, and leaned against the table a little, crossing his arms tightly as if trying to hold himself together.

Arnav let out a bitter voice, the kind that came from a place much deeper than anger, something worn, exhausted, hurting. “Meri hi galti hai,” he said, each word falling heavier than the last as he looked at Anvi and Maan.

They stood frozen in front of him, heads hung low, fingers digging into their own arms as if holding on to something that was slipping out of them. Shame and guilt were written all over their faces...raw, undeniable.

Arnav didn’t relent. If anything, something in him tightened further. His heart felt painfully full, yet painfully hollow at the same time.
“9–10 saal ke the tum log…” His voice trembled for a second before he locked it down again. “Tab se I was the guardian figure in your life… Galti meri hi hai… Mai hi tum logon ko sahi galat mein difference nahi sikha paaya… I failed.”

The word failed didn’t echo in the room, it echoed inside Anvi and Maan. They both swallowed hard, their throats burning, eyes filling until nothing was clear anymore.

Both stepped forward, almost flinching with the need to fix something they didn’t know how to fix. “Bhaiya aisa nahi hai… bhaiya I’m sorry...I'm really soory bhaiya,” they cried, voices breaking as their tears hit the floor.

But Arnav, instead of letting them close, stepped one small but devastating step back. The space between them suddenly felt like a punishment. “Aisa hi hai,” he answered quietly...no anger, just resignation that cut deeper than shouting ever could. “Agar maine tum logon ko sahi galat ka farq sikhaya hota toh tum log aisa nahi karte.”

He looked at Anvi then, really looked, and the disappointment in his eyes made her knees weak. “Yeh…” he pointed at her, the gesture alone making her flinch.
“Battameezi karti hai, chori karti hai, bina apni safety ka khayal kiye aadhi raat mein aawaron ki tarah road pe ghoom ne nikal jaati hai, aankh mein aankh daal ke mere muh pe jhooth bolti hai.”

Each accusation wasn’t thrown, it was placed, one after another...like weights on her already sinking into her chest.

"Aur yeh" he pointed at Maan
“Iska saath deta hai har cheez mein...Galat shi kuch nhi sochna bss ek dusre ke sath dena hai chahe kuch bhi ho jaye.”

Maan’s breath hitched. His eyes burned. He couldn’t even wipe his tears.

“Ek jhooth bolti hai,” Arnav said, voice turning colder, quieter, “dusra uska jhooth chhupaane ke liye aur jhooth bolta hai… Vo bhi meri aankhon mein aankhein daal ke.”

He clapped once...slow, hollow, sarcastic...and the sound echoed in the room like a slap. “Kudos, Arnav Jaisingh…” he muttered bitterly. “You have raised very efficient liars.”

He scoffed, not loudly, just enough to make their stomachs drop.

Arnav glanced at Anvi and looked at her.
“Ek baat bata… Tujhe bhi pata tha na… Mohit aur Abhimaan ke baare mai? Aur tu… jo kabhi kabhi aati thi ki ‘Bhaiya neend nahi aa rhi, aaj aap sula do’… Abhimaan sneak out krta tha na uss din?”

Anvi kept looking down, crying silently, and nodded.

Maan also cried harder, knowing he had betrayed Arnav’s trust and hurt him deeply.

Arnav let out a bitter chuckle, voice shaking slightly. “Shi hai,” he said, sarcastically, but it sounded hollow even to his own ears.

He stood silent for a moment, staring at the floor, as if trying to collect the storm inside him.

“Mujhe toh yhi nahi smjh aa raha, galti kaha kar di maine tumlogo ko palne mai”
He cursed himself, teeth clenched, voice low and bitter.

Arnav looked down, breath trembling, disappointment etched into every line of his face. Tears brimmed in his eyes as the weight of his own thoughts crushed him. Under his breath...half curse, half confession...he whispered, voice breaking, “Main itna overbearing, itna toxic control freak hoon… ki tum log mujhse har choti si choti baat pe jhooth bol dete ho...Itna darr hai ki mujhse bolne ki jagah baatein chupana itada better lagta hai tumlogo ko?....Then i truly failed as a guardian as well as a brother”

That single line shattered whatever little strength Anvi and Maan had left.

Both of them broke down harder, hiccuping, sobbing, unable to even string breaths together.

Maan somehow managed to push words out, voice shaking like he was standing barefoot on guilt.

“Bhaiya… sachhi aisa nahi hai, bhaiya… we’re really sorry, bhaiya…”

Anvi, barely able to breathe through her sobs, nodded uncontrollably. Her voice came out small, cracked, terrified of his pain more than his anger.

“Bhaiya… sacchi main aisa kuch nahi hai… bhaiya please aise mat bolo… bhaiya sorry…”

Arnav’s fingers curled into fists by his sides as he stared at the floor, tears gathering, falling before he could stop them. For a long second, he couldn’t even lift his head, afraid of what they’d see on his face… or what he’d see on theirs.

Then slowly… painfully slowly… he looked up at Anvi.

And when his eyes met hers, there was no fury left.

Only fear.

A raw, helpless fear of losing her as he said “Aaj… agar tujhe kuch ho jaata toh mai kya karta?”

His eyes welled up, teetering on the edge of panic and fear, remembering everything that could have gone wrong.

“Tu aadhi raat mai bike leke nikal gyi… 130 ki speed pe… 130… ghanto tak tera koi ata pata nhi hai… Do you even realise mere pe kya beeti thi?”

He stepped closer, hands trembling slightly. “Tujhe idea bhi hai kya ho skta tha tere sath…? Kahi gir jaati… 15 feet ki diwal se kood gyi, Anvi… 15 feet… Tera zara sa bhi dhyaan idhar udar hota…”

His voice cracked violently, almost breaking, a shiver running down his spine. “Kya karte hum, haan? Tu hi bata… kya karte hum?”

A tear escaped his eye as he tried to list out everything that could have gone wrong. “Vo aadmi… acha tha, Anvi… Nhi toh kya ho skta tha tere sath… mujhe sochke hi…”

He shivered violently, swallowing hard, fighting to hold himself together. “Vo tera fayda utha skta tha… 17 saal ki bacchi… aadhi raat mai… akele… na phone, na paise, na kuch… Do you even realise vo kya kar skta tha…? Aur tu… tu akeli hoti… Mai kya karta phir?”

Tears streamed down his face uncontrollably now. His hands shook.
“Mai kya karta… bata tu… Tere sath kuch ho jaata… Mai kya karta?” His voice broke completely, cracking under the weight of fear and helplessness.

Anvi and Maan realized, far too late, how badly they had faltered. The weight of their mistake didn’t just sit on their chests; it clawed into them, sharp and merciless, the moment they saw their brother finally break. Arnav, who carried storms without blinking, who shielded them even while bleeding himself, looked nothing like the unshakeable anchor they grew up holding on to. His shoulders had sagged as if something inside him had quietly snapped, and the fear in his eyes was so raw that it felt like looking at a wound that refused to close.

Anvi couldn’t bear it anymore. The guilt that had been simmering in her stomach rushed up to her throat, choking her, and before she even realized, her arms were around him...tightly, desperately like she was trying to hold together the parts of him that were coming undone. Maan followed a heartbeat later, his small hands trembling as he clung to Arnav’s torso, pressing his face into him as if hiding there could erase the truth of what they had done. Their sobs weren’t loud; they were the kind that came from deep inside, shaking them wordlessly, the kind that made it impossible to breathe without hurting.

Arnav closed his eyes as the two of them cried into him. He felt every tremble, every apology in their grip, every frantic beat of their guilty hearts. But he couldn’t lift his arms. He couldn’t pull them close the way he always did. He was too tired, emotionally scraped raw, fear still pounding through him like a lingering aftershock. The longing to hold them was there, sharp and painful, but it stayed locked behind the exhaustion sitting heavy in his bones. He stood there, rigid, letting them cling to him while all he could do was silently hope that his legs wouldn’t give out beneath him.

And even in that stillness, even without returning their embrace, the truth clung to all three of them, he needed them, they needed him, but tonight their hearts were too bruised to reach each other without hurting.

After a long, trembling pause, Arnav slowly stepped back, his hands still quivering. If he stayed any longer, he knew he would break completely. He couldn’t let that happen.

He took a shaky breath and whispered, almost pleading, “Jao yaha se… Go to your room and sleep.”

But they didn’t move.

Not an inch.

The silence stretched, and something inside Arnav snapped...not in rage, but in helplessness. He let out a long, disappointed exhale, the kind that made both of them flinch. “Sunai nahi diya?”
The words came sharper, heavier.

Still nothing.

Maan and Anvi stayed frozen exactly where they were. Their tears kept falling, their breaths came in shaky gasps, but their feet refused to carry them away from him. They needed him. They needed their bhaiya more than anything.
No sleep, no room, no distance could calm the storm inside them. Only Arnav could but he wasn’t ready to offer that comfort, not right now.

Arnav exhaled sharply, frustration and heartbreak mixing in his tone. “Battameezi karne mein toh expert ho gaye ho dono… Koi baat nahi sunani, na?”

He didn’t shout. He didn’t lash out. His voice simply held a quiet, tired resignation that hurt far worse.

“Karo jo karna hai,” he said finally, turning away. And without waiting for them to speak, apologise, or crumble further, he walked out of the study, leaving both of them standing exactly where they were, small and trembling, alone in the silence he left behind.

Anvi and Maan stood there crying bitterly, their bodies shaking with every sharp breath they struggled to take. The silence around them felt suffocating, thick with shame, regret, and the echo of everything that had just happened.

Finally, Anvi’s voice broke through, small and trembling, barely more than a whisper. “I’m sorry bhaiyu… I’m really sorry…”

Her words cracked mid sentence, her throat raw from holding back sobs. She wasn’t just guilty for herself  her chest ached with the thought that because of her mistakes, Maan and Arnav had suffered, had been hurt, had been scolded too. The guilt crushed her from the inside.

Maan looked up at her through blurred eyes, his own breath catching softly. He took a small step forward, then another, and before she could say anything more, he pulled her into a fierce hug, arms wrapped around her like he was trying to shield what was left of her heart.

Anvi immediately broke down harder, burying her face into his shoulder as her hands clutched at him. Maan held her tightly, as if letting go would make everything fall apart. Both of them stood there, hugging each other, crying into each other, two siblings holding on because they didn’t know what else to hold on to.

From the gate, little Avyuktha stood silently.

Her small fingers clutched the edge of the doorframe as she peeked inside.
She had heard everything, every crack of the ruler, every sob, every hiccup, every word that had fallen like stones. Her tiny heart had felt each of them.

She knew…
She knew they all needed each other right now.

When she saw Anvi and Maan wrapped in that desperate, shaking hug, she didn’t say a word. She didn’t call out. She didn’t interrupt.

Instead, her little steps turned softly, almost instinctively, and she began to walk quietly toward Arnav’s room, because she knew he was hurting too.
Maybe more silently, but just as deeply.

As Avyuktha entered Arnav’s room, the dim light revealed a sight that twisted her tiny heart, Arnav, sitting on the edge of the bed, shoulders hunched, face buried in his palms.

At the sound of her soft footsteps, he looked up abruptly.

He quickly wiped his tears with the back of his hand, trying to compose himself, but it was useless, his face was flushed red, tear stains still glistening on his cheeks, his eyes swollen and puffy,
his lips trembling and raw from holding back sobs.

He tried....God, he tried to look normal. To look strong. But everything on his face screamed how utterly broken he was in that moment.

Avyuktha didn’t say a single word.

She simply stepped forward, her small feet making no noise on the floor, and climbed onto the bed. Without hesitation, she wrapped her tiny arms around him.

Arnav froze.

For a split second, his breath caught, his body stiff, like he wasn’t sure he deserved comfort anymore, like he didn’t know how to accept it.

But then…as if someone had finally given him a little air to breathe…
he melted into her embrace.

His arms came up slowly, shakily, and he held her close against his chest.

Tears kept flowing down his face, not loud, not messy... just silent, unending streams that carried, every bit of pain he had buried for years.

No sobs escaped him. No sound.
Only those uneven, stuttering gasps for air, the kind a person makes when their heart hurts too much to even cry properly.

In that tiny hug, in that quiet room, two broken pieces finally found a place to breathe.

Avyuktha kept rubbing his back with her small hands, slow gentle strokes that carried more comfort than words ever could. Her touch was tiny, but steady, like she was trying to hold his breaking pieces together one stroke at a time.

Arnav didn’t even realise when exhaustion finally pulled him under.
His breaths evened out, the tension in his shoulders slowly giving way, and before he knew it, he had fallen asleep, his body leaning heavily against her.

His weight pressed onto her little frame, almost knocking her backward, but she didn’t complain. She steadied herself, careful not to disturb him, and with quiet determination managed to shift him just enough so his head rested on her lap.

Still most of his weight remained on her...heavy, warm, overwhelming for someone her size, but she didn’t move.
She didn’t wake him. She didn’t even wiggle.

Instead, she sat there, back slightly curved under his weight, and gently ran her tiny fingers through his hair. Soft, slow strokes. Again and again.

Providing him comfort.Giving him a safe place to rest. Holding him in the only way she knew, small, but full of love.

Meanwhile

The house settled into a quiet heaviness. In one room, Anvi lay on her side, earphones in, the music only muffling the thoughts she couldn’t escape. Every tear that slipped out felt like a reminder of how badly she had messed up, the guilt sitting on her chest like something that wouldn’t move no matter how hard she breathed.



And in the next room, Maan curled into himself, fingers digging slightly into his arms as if holding himself tighter would somehow lessen the weight pressing down on him. Their rooms were separate, but the heaviness they carried was the same...quiet, suffocating, and far too big for their young hearts to bear.



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Thanks so much for reading this chapter ❤️

This one… wow. It was deep, raw, and honestly, very hurting to write.

I want to ask you something, do you think Arnav gave them enough punishment? Or was it just his outburst, and the real punishment is still waiting? Do you think he’ll forgive them easily because he feels their guilt so strongly?

And tell me… what did you feel the most while reading this chapter? Did their emotions hit you like they hit me while writing? Did your heart ache, or did you shed a tear with them?

Please also share the scenes you want to see next, and how you want them to proceed, I haven’t written the next part yet, so I’ll try to move according to your requests and include as many of your ideas as I can ❤️

Comment as much as you can, I poured so much effort, so many emotions, into this chapter, and your comments are my reward. I love reading every thought, every feeling you share about these moments.

The next update will come only after the targets are complete, I’ve already given you three updates back to back, so now it’s your turn to do a little something for me too 😅 And honestly, I need a bit of time to write the next part as well.

So, comment, gush, cry with me, and let’s feel this together ❤️‍🩹