Chapter: The Cost Of Not Listening

Abhimanyu woke up feeling far lighter than he had last night. The heaviness in his chest had eased, replaced by a warmth he hadn’t felt in a long time.
He shifted slightly and froze.

There was a soft, wet sensation on his fingers.

He looked down… and the sight that met him made his entire face soften.

Aarush, curled like a tiny ball of sunshine beside him, was sleep smiling while gently nibbling on Abhimanyu’s fingers as if they were his personal pacifier. His little cheeks puffed, his lashes rested delicately on them, and every few seconds he made a tiny content hum.



For a man who had seen the world’s darkest sides, this...this ridiculous, pure, innocent moment, was probably one of the best mornings he’d ever had.

Abhimanyu let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief at how effortlessly this little boy melted him.

“Golgappa kahi ka…” he murmured under his breath, the fondness unmistakable.

Very gently, he slipped his fingers free from Aarush’s mouth, careful not to wake him. Aarush made a small protesting sound but quickly settled back, his lips forming a tiny pout.

Abhimanyu went to the washroom, splashed water on his face, and felt a strange, comforting peace settle inside him.

When he returned, the sight waiting for him nearly made him laugh out loud.

Aarush was lying starfish-style on the bed, drooling freely on Abhimanyu’s pillow, looking criminally adorable, the kind of adorable that could destroy empires and soften kings.



Abhimanyu’s lips curved again, and for the first time in days… his heart felt full.

He glanced at the clock on the wall 6:00 AM.

Still too early.
And Aarush was sleeping so peacefully, mouth parted, little fists curled like he was ready to punch anyone who disturbed his dream.

Abhimanyu exhaled softly.

“Sleep, champ,” he murmured.

He pulled the duvet up to Aarush’s shoulders, tucking him in securely. Then, with a small smile, he shrugged off his jacket and placed it gently beside Aarush.

Making sure Aarush was warm and safe, Abhimanyu stepped back, watched him for another quiet second, and then finally slipped out of the room.

The hallway was silent, that rare kind of silence the mansion only had before sunrise. His footsteps echoed softly as he headed down toward the home gym.

Abhimanyu pushed open the gym door expecting to see Arnav mid set…

The gym was empty.

Abhimanyu paused at the doorway, brows knitting. Arnav never missed routine. Even on days he barely slept, he still showed up here like a machine.

A strange prickle crept up Abhimanyu’s spine.

“Okay… that’s unusual,” he muttered.

He turned and made his way to the kitchen, expecting  Arnav himself making suger overdosed coffee just like he liked.

But the kitchen was just as empty. Silent. Not even the faint clatter of utensils.

Now he frowned for real.

Something felt off.

Arnav Jaisingh missing from both his usual morning stations wasn’t normal. Not even close.

Without wasting another second, Abhimanyu pivoted and headed straight for Arnav’s room, his footsteps quickening with every step. His mind ran through possibilities, none of them pleasant.

He reached the door, lifted a hand, and knocked once...firmly.

No answer.

His jaw tightened.

He pushed the door open.

Abhimanyu froze at the doorway.

For a second, he genuinely wondered if his mind was playing tricks on him.
But no, this was real.

Arnav the man made of steel, control, and unbreakable walls, was lying curled on his side, head resting in Avyuktha’s tiny lap.

And Avyuktha… poor kid… was clearly not built to support the weight of a full grown man. Her small shoulders were slumped, her back pressed against the bedrest, her eyes closed in sheer exhaustion. But her little hands…
Those tired, trembling hands were still moving gently through Arnav’s hair, like she refused to stop comforting him even in her sleep.

Abhimanyu’s throat tightened.

Arnav wasn’t just lying there.
He was curled into himself, his fingers clutching the fabric of her nightshirt like he needed something....someone to anchor him. Like he’d shattered sometime during the night.

The sight wasn’t just unusual.

It was heartbreaking.

Abhimanyu stepped inside quietly, afraid even the sound of his breath might disturb the fragile calm in the room.

“Arni…” he whispered.

But Arnav didn’t move.

His shoulders rose and fell slowly, and up close Abhimanyu could see the faint traces of dried tears on his skin.

Something had happened. Something big.

Abhimanyu swallowed hard, walking closer, his protective instinct kicking in hard.

As the faintest shift in the air brushed against her skin, Avyuktha’s lashes fluttered open with the delicate heaviness of someone who had not slept so much as drifted in and out of strained consciousness. Her mind felt foggy, her body painfully aware of every stiff muscle, but the moment her gaze settled on Abhimanyu standing a few feet away, the tension that had wrapped itself around her like a tight band loosened slightly.

She blinked at him, exhaustion weighing down her expression; her lips parted as if to greet him, but only silence came out.

Her legs had long since passed the stage of discomfort, they lay under Arnav’s weight cold, numb, and swollen, tingling with that deep, burning ache that comes when circulation has been starved for too long.

Her back had pressed mercilessly against the hard bedrest for hours, and every breath she took made her ribs expand against an ache that refused to settle.

Yet despite all of this, despite the pain twisting through her small frame, she had not moved an inch. Not because she lacked the strength, but because the man lying with his head in her lap had needed her stillness more than she needed relief.

Abhimanyu approached quietly, as though afraid the very air might disturb the fragile moment he’d stumbled upon.

The closer he came, the more clearly he saw the toll the night had taken on her, the way her shoulders sagged, the faint tremble in her fingers, the unnatural stillness in her legs, and the exhaustion clinging to her like a second skin.

When he finally sat beside her, something in his chest pulled painfully tight. He gently brushed the hair off her forehead, his touch soft and careful, as though even the weight of affection might overwhelm her in her fragile state. The sight of her, a child stretched beyond her limits, refusing comfort for the sake of her elder brother, carved a quiet ache inside him that words could never sufficiently describe.

When his gaze finally drifted to Arnav, lying curled into himself like a storm folded inward, Abhimanyu felt a cold heaviness settle deep in his gut. Arnav wasn’t merely sleeping, his posture held the defeated stillness of a man whose body had finally surrendered after fighting emotions too large for him to contain.

Dried tear marks streaked across his cheekbones, the skin beneath his eyes was raw and swollen, and his hand still clutched a fistful of Avyuktha’s shirt as though it were the only thing keeping him anchored in a night that had drowned him.

Abhimanyu reached out gently to wake him, but before his fingers could touch Arnav’s shoulder, Avyuktha’s small hand wrapped around his wrist. Her grip, despite its tremble, carried a desperate strength that startled him more than anything she could have said.

Her voice, when it came out, was thin and frayed, a fragile whisper that seemed to tremble under its own weight as she pleaded, not for herself but for the man asleep in her lap. She told him not to wake Arnav, explaining in a voice barely above a breath that Arnav had cried...cried so painfully, so intensely, that only moments ago had he finally fallen asleep.

Her words stunned him. Arnav never cried where anyone could see. He never allowed himself to break in front of others...certainly not in front of children. The idea of Arnav shaking with sobs so severe that sleep had come only as a collapse felt incomprehensible, frightening even.

Abhimanyu’s brows drew together sharply, confusion and concern colliding. “Ro raha tha?” he asked, his voice lowering as if afraid to disturb the bruised silence wrapping Arnav.

Avyuktha nodded once...slow, reluctant, weighted by the memories of last night.

He looked more closely at Arnav then, really looked, and the evidence stared back at him with brutal clarity, the tear stained skin, the uneven breaths, the stiffness of a body that had battled too much emotion in too short a span of time.

Gently, Abhimanyu asked Avyuktha what had happened, and the child...pale, trembling, still refusing to shift, began recounting the entire night. There was no dramatic embellishment, no attempt to soften or shield anything, she told the truth as it had happened, piece by painful piece.

Anvi disappearing. The reckless plan with Mohit and Maan that spiraled disastrously. The police intervention. The ruler. The shouting. The spiraling fear in Arnav’s eyes.

The moment he saw them cry. The moment something inside him shattered. The way he had held her like a drowning man clutching the only floating piece of wood left in an ocean.

By the time she finished, Abhimanyu’s jaw was clenched so tightly it felt as if his teeth might crack under the pressure. Fury, helplessness, and grief simmered under his skin with a violent intensity that made him want to march straight to Maan and Anvi and shake sense into them until they understood the consequences of their carelessness.

But when he looked at Arnav again...small, defeated, crumpled into the lap of a child too young to hold such burdens...all that anger shifted into something quieter, deeper, far more painful.

Arnav had carried everyone’s mistakes on his back for years, but last night had pushed him past a breaking point even Abhimanyu had never imagined.

He turned back to Avyuktha, his voice as soft as the fabric of the shirt she clutched in her tired fingers, and told her she needed to let him wake Arnav because her legs could not bear any more. She refused, clinging to the belief that disturbing Arnav’s sleep would somehow add to his suffering. And although her loyalty made his heart twist, Abhimanyu knew that if Arnav woke to find her in this much pain because of him, he would never forgive himself.

He reached out, placed a steady hand on Arnav’s shoulder, and whispered, “Arni… Arni baccha, uth jaa…” quiet, coaxing tone reserved only for moments when Abhimanyu needed Arnav to return from someplace dark.

Slowly, painfully, Arnav stirred. His lashes trembled, resisting the light, and his eyes opened with the sluggish heaviness of someone who had cried themselves into exhaustion.

When his gaze found Abhimanyu’s face, something fragile flickered across his features...recognition, dependence, a kind of broken familiarity, before his hoarse whisper escaped, barely shaped, barely alive: “Dada…”

The sound scraped against the silence, raw and cracked, and Abhimanyu felt it like a physical ache in his chest.

As Arnav shifted slightly, trying to make sense of where he was, he felt the warmth beneath his head and froze.

Slowly, with the hesitance of someone afraid of what they might find, he lifted his eyes. When he saw Avyuktha, her pale face, her drooping eyelids, her entire body locked in a battle with pain she had chosen to endure silently for him, the memories of the night crashed into him with merciless force. His eyes widened in horror. He jerked away from her lap as if burned, his breath catching painfully in his chest, and his gaze dropped to her legs.

They were deeply red, mottled, swollen, the unmistakable signs of blood flow restricted far too long. The sight made his stomach twist violently.

He tore his gaze from her limbs to the clock, and when he saw how long he had been lying there, a shudder went through him.

Three hours.

He had rested in her lap for three hours.

His voice broke as he whispered her name, guilt thick and suffocating threading through each syllable. “Avu… tune mujhe jagaya kyun nahi…? Main… main aise... teen ghante…”

The sentence crumbled before it could finish, torn apart by the weight of shame and the crushing realization that he had hurt the very child who had spent the whole night trying to hold him together.

Arnav’s eyes widened as the reality of what he’d done, what she had endured, hit him like a physical blow.

But instead of softening, his emotions twisted violently inside him. Shame, guilt, fury at himself, the hollow ache of last night, the pounding in his head from crying too hard… all of it collided until his voice came out sharper than he intended.

“Uthaya kyu nhi tune mujhe?” he snapped, the edge in his tone cutting through the quiet room.

The words weren’t truly meant for her, they were a punishment he was turning onto himself but Avyuktha still flinched. His gaze was intense, almost wild with self loathing, and for a moment he looked like a man cornered by his own demons. The pressure building in his chest was unbearable; he hated that he had broken down in front of her, hated that she had suffered silently for hours just to hold him together.

Avyuktha immediately lowered her eyes, the fight draining out of her. She mumbled softly, “Aap so rhe the… isliye…”

But her small, trembling voice only made the guilt in his stomach twist harder, crueler. He dragged a hand through his hair, frustration bursting out uncontrollably as he snapped again, louder this time, “So hi raha tha? Mar thod gaya tha ki tune uthaya nhi?!”

The room froze.

Abhimanyu’s head whipped toward him, the words hitting him like an insult to his bones. For a second, he just stared at Arnav disbelief and fury mixing in his eyes. Then, before even thinking, before Arnav could take another breath, Abhimanyu’s hand cracked across Arnav’s back in a sharp, punishing thwack.

Arnav winced from the force, and Avyuktha flinched violently at the sudden sound, her breath hitching in fear.

Abhimanyu’s voice came out like thunder, low and dangerous, the kind that made even walls tense.
“Kya bakwaas kar raha hai?!”

And before Arnav could gather himself, before he could even lift his head, Abhimanyu struck his back again, harder, the sound echoing in the quiet room like a warning shot.

Arnav’s glare shot toward Abhimanyu, sharp and defensive, but Abhimanyu met it with a stare so cold and steady that it sliced right through Arnav’s anger. For a few seconds, the two locked eyes, neither blinking, neither backing down until finally Arnav’s gaze faltered and dropped.

His jaw tightened hard enough to hurt as he pushed himself off the bed. He managed only a few steps before the exhaustion of the night slammed into him like a wall. His vision blurred, his knees went soft, and his body swayed dangerously.

Before he could hit the floor, Abhimanyu’s arm shot out and caught him by the upper arm, gripping tight. “Kya kar raha hai… pagal ho gaya hai kya?” Abhimanyu snapped, his voice a mix of fury and fear. “Abhi gir jaata toh lag jaati!”

Behind them, Avyuktha attempted to get up, but the moment she put pressure on her legs, a sharp pain tore through her, making her wince. Abhimanyu turned instantly, his tone harsh despite the worry beneath it. “Tu kaha ja rhi hai? Baith yahi chup chap.”

She froze, sinking back down unwillingly. Abhimanyu guided Arnav back toward the bed and practically forced him to sit beside her.

Arnav’s breathing was uneven, and the frustration bubbling in him found the first outlet it could. “Oil chahiye tha mujhe… iske pair ki massage karni hai thoda aaram milega isse…” he muttered hoarsely. His eyes softened just a fraction as he looked at her legs, then immediately hardened again in anger at himself. “Gadho ki tarah raat bhar aise hi baithi thi… Dard ke maare jaan nikal rhi hogi iski”

Avyuktha glared at him, anger flashing through the exhaustion. “Mujhe dard nhi ho raha,” she snapped back.

Arnav’s jaw clenched so sharply it looked painful, and he turned on her with that familiar elder brother fury, raw and cracked from the emotionally brutal night. “Jhoot bola na toh abhi lagaunga kheech ke ek… Kyu nhi uthaya, haa? Dada nahi aate toh tu aise hi padi rehti… haa? Pagal ho gayi hai tu?”

But she wasn’t the little girl who’d shrink away anymore. She shot right back, eyes tearing up from the sting not of fear, but of remembering last night. “Haa, aise hi padi rehti!....Aap ro rahe the!....Aapko lagta hai mai aise hi chod ke chali jaati? ...Mai roti hoon toh aap bhi toh nahi jaate ho! ....Toh mai kyu chali jaati?” she said angrily, her voice shaking.

Arnav felt the words land like blows to his chest. His pain turned instantly into irritation, his irritation into defensiveness, and before he could stop himself, he snapped again, louder, harsher, “Meri baat alag hai! Piddi bhar ki hai tu… hawa se bhi halki… zyada tez phook maar do toh udd jao! Tujhe toh permanently bhi carry kar sakta hoon mai aur mujhe kuch nahi hoga! Lekin ye dekh rhi hai?” He pointed sharply at her red, swollen legs. “Ye dekh rhi hai dande jaise pair pe 80 kilo ka aadmi ko leta liya… akal nahi hai tujhme?”

Avyuktha glared right back, her temper now fully ignited. “Mere dande jaise pairon mai bahot taakat hai!”

Arnav opened his mouth to fire back, another retort already forming in his throat...but the moment never came.

Abhimanyu’s voice split the air like a whip.

“ENOUGH.”

The single word carried the weight of a man who tolerated neither stupidity nor emotional recklessness. Arnav froze mid breath, Avyuktha froze mid-glare. They both turned slowly toward him.

Abhimanyu’s expression was thunderous, his tone low and deadly. “Ek aur shabd nahi nikalna chahiye dono ke muh se… nahi toh mai nahi, mera haath baat karega.” He lifted his palm meaningfully, and both of them gulped at the silent threat, knowing very well he meant every syllable.

Without waiting for a response, he strode to the small table, grabbed two glasses, filled them with water, and returned with the kind of strict, cold efficiency that shut down all arguments in a room. He handed one glass to Arnav, one to Avyuktha.

“Piyo. Isse. Mai aata hoon.” His voice left no room for negotiation. “Aur jab tak mai na aayu, koi kuch nahi bolega. Samjhe?”

Both nodded instantly, like two students caught misbehaving in front of the principal and took their glasses silently. Neither dared to yank the angry lion's tail.

The moment Abhimanyu stepped out, the room fell into a strange, heavy silence. Both of them sat stiffly, glasses in hand, the tension still buzzing faintly between them. And then, almost comically they both took a final sip at the exact same second, lowered their glasses, and said together under their breath:

“Sorry.”

They blinked, turning to look at each other with identical expressions of awkward guilt.

Arnav sighed first, rubbing the back of his neck. “Mujhe tujhpe chillana nahi chahiye tha… sorry,” he admitted quietly, the disappointment in himself far louder than the words.

Avyuktha only hummed in response, arms crossed and chin lifted with that stubborn little tilt, and Arnav actually paused, surprised. He had expected guilt or hesitation after everything, especially after she shouted at him but instead she sat there like an offended queen, completely unbothered.

And for the first time, he was amazed. A part of him was still annoyed, not at her attitude, but at the thought of her hurting because of him.

Yet beneath that frustration was something warm and unmistakable. He liked it, the way she came out of her shell, even for a moment, the way she argued back without flinching, the way she held her ground with a spark he had never seen in her before. It was unexpected, disarming, and somehow… deeply endearing.

After a beat, she finally muttered, “Mujhe aapse aise baat nahi karni chahiye thi… sorry.”

Arnav exhaled slowly, some of the tightness leaving his shoulders. “Koi baat nahi,” he said gently.

The silence that followed wasn’t cold anymore; it was softer… weighted with concern, guilt, affection, and the remnants of fear from the night before. Arnav looked down at her legs again...red, swollen, almost trembling from how numb they had become and something tight squeezed inside his chest.

“Baccha…” he said quietly, voice heavy with guilt, “Utha dena chahiye tha na mujhe… tujhe kitna dard ho raha hoga, Avu…”

Every emotion he’d buried...fear, anguish, guilt poured into his tone. His hand reached out slowly, hesitantly, until his fingers curled around her ankles. His thumbs caressed the sensitive skin, trying to coax the circulation back.

But Avyuktha tried to pull her leg away instantly, an instinctive reaction and the sudden movement sent a sharp bolt of pain shooting up her calf. She gasped loudly, the sound breaking into a wince. “Ahhh!”

Arnav tensed immediately. “Kya kar rhi hai, Avu?” he snapped, half angry, half panicked.

Avyuktha glared at him through the pain. “Aap yaar… pair mat chua karo na baar baar… bade ho aap mujhse…” she muttered irritably, cheeks puffed, discomfort making her tone sharper than usual.

Arnav stared at her like she’d just said the most nonsensical thing on earth. “Bada hoon toh usse kya hua?” he shot back. “Apni bacchi ka pair chu sakta hoon main, samjhi?....You don’t get to interfere between me and my daughter.”

The words hit her like a warm punch to the chest.

She stilled completely.

Her breath caught.

Her face, already pale from exhaustion, flushed a deep shade of pink. Not because she was embarrassed, but because the sentence wrapped around her heart like a blanket she didn’t know she’d been waiting for her whole life.

He hadn’t just accepted her as his sister.
He hadn’t just protected her.
He’d called her...his daughter.

As if she was someone he would worry for, fight for, comfort, carry, scold, and claim without hesitation.

A shy, overwhelmed warmth spread through her entire body. She dropped her gaze instantly, staring hard at her lap because looking at Arnav right then felt far too intimate, far too emotional.

Her fingers curled tightly around the bedsheet in an attempt to hide the way her heart was expanding inside her ribcage.

Arnav pretended not to notice the blush, but a faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he gently resumed rubbing her feet...slow, careful motions easing the numbness. The room felt different now, softer, like the beginning of healing.

Just as the room settled into a softer silence, the door opened and Abhimanyu walked back in, one hand carrying a small katori filled with warm oil, steam still rising from it, and the other holding a digital BP machine.

He didn’t wait for permission. He came straight to them and sat down with the calm authority.

“Arni,” he said firmly, placing the machine beside Arnav, “Apna BP check kar.”

He dipped his fingers into the warm oil and reached for Avyuktha’s feet.

Both reactions were instant.

“Bhai, aap phir mat chuo na!” Avyuktha complained, pulling her legs back a little.

And right beside her

“Dada, mujhe BP nahi napwana yaar…” Arnav groaned like a child whose favorite toy was being taken away.

Abhimanyu closed his eyes for one long, suffering second and prayed silently to every god in existence for patience. Then he exhaled through his nose, the kind of exhale that said he was two seconds from bodily picking both up and shaking sense into them.

“Thik hai,” he said calmly.

Too calmly.

Both Arnav and Avyuktha blinked at him, confused by the sudden softness.

Abhimanyu looked at their faces...equally stubborn, equally dramatic, equally exasperating and said in his dangerously peaceful tone,
“You both have two options.”

Their spines straightened.

“Ya toh jo main bol raha hoon chup chaap kar lo…” he continued, looking from Arnav to Avyuktha with measured calm.

“Ya phir maar khaake karo.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Choice is yours.”

Silence.

Absolute, pin drop silence.

Arnav froze first. He knew this wasn’t an empty threat. Abhimanyu’s warnings never were.

He immediately began fumbling with the BP machine, nearly dropping it twice in the rush to strap it to his arm.

Avyuktha swallowed hard, her eyes widening for a second. Abhimanyu shifted his gaze to her...not unloving, but definitely promising consequences and she quickly, reluctantly, extended her legs toward him.

He shook his head slightly and a small, helpless smile tugged at his lips as he looked at the identical expressions of surrender on both their faces.

Finally giving in, both at the exact same time.

He dipped his fingers in the warm oil again, this time with a gentleness that didn’t match his threats. His hands were warm, steady, and practiced as he began massaging Avyuktha’s numb legs with slow, comforting movements. The tension in her face began to ease instantly.

Beside them, Arnav tightened the cuff on his biceps with a grumpy sigh and pressed the start button, the BP machine whirring to life as he shot Abhimanyu a sulky glare.

Abhimanyu ignored it with ease, his focus softening on Avyuktha as he worked on her cramped muscles. Arnav watched for a moment, the warmth of the scene settling into him and the fight inside him quieted a little.

For the first time that morning, the chaos felt like home.

The BP machine beeped once before the digits froze on the screen. Abhimanyu’s eyes widened...

192/91.

For a full second he just stared, the air around him suddenly sharpening.
Isliye chakkar aa raha tha… isliye haath kaanp rahe the…

“Oh god… Arni, tera BP kitna zyada high hai,” Abhimanyu said, voice low but laced with panic.

Avyuktha’s eyes flew wide, anxiety climbing her throat. “Bhai… normal kitna hota hai?”

Abhimanyu didn’t sugarcoat. “120/80.
Ye bahot zyada high hai, Avu… bahot.”

His mind was already racing as he snatched his phone. “Main Pari ko call karta hoon...”

“Arey, Pari ko kyu call kar raha hai yaar?” Arnav cut in immediately, stubbornness slipping into desperation. “Vo poori raat hospital mein thi… thak gayi hogi… main dawai le leta hoon, normal ho jayega.”

Abhimanyu didn’t even hear the excuses. His thumb was already on the dial button.

Arnav tried one last time, softer, almost pleading, “Dada… jaane do na… thik ho jayega.”

And then

“Aap chup raho!” Avyuktha snapped at the exact same second Abhimanyu growled, “Tu chup kar!”

The synchronization was so perfect that even the silence afterward felt choreographed.

Both glared at him, the exact same tilted-head, raised brow, irritated glare....you better sit down before we sit you down look.

Arnav tried glaring back at Abhimanyu
and immediately regretted all his life choices.

Abhimanyu’s gaze darkened so dangerously that even the BP machine beeped louder in fear. Arnav’s eyes darted away so fast it looked like someone pressed Alt + Tab on his soul.

But of course… ego ki bhi koi cheez hoti hai.

So he turned to the only person in the room he could intimidate... tiny, exhausted, sore legged Avyuktha.

He narrowed his eyes at her.
Avyuktha froze like a deer caught in headlights… then promptly looked down at her lap.

Of course she did.
She was younger.
He was Bhaiyya.
And honestly, given his face right now, even earthquakes would take a step back.

A slow, victorious smirk crept onto Arnav’s lips.

One win. One tiny win. Still counts.

One point to the elder brother squad.

He even did a subtle little eyebrow lift,
And then

Abhimanyu turned to him.

Not even a full turn
just a slight tilt of the head, one eyebrow raised, eyes saying

“I saw that.”

The smirk vanished so brutally it left behind emotional debris.

Arnav sat up straighter than a school kid in front of a strict maths teacher. His neck locked. Back stiff. Face innocent like he had never smirked in his entire life.

Avyuktha bit her lip, trying not to laugh.

Even the BP machine beeped sympathetically for him.

Arnav leaned a little closer to Abhimanyu, his voice barely above a breath as he asked, “Dada… bukhaar nahi hai na ab…?”

Abhimanyu shook his head once, still focused on massaging Avyuktha’s stiff legs.

But Arnav couldn’t help it, he raised his own hand and pressed his palm to his forehead, just to double check for himself. The skin felt normal, but the anxiety inside him didn’t settle. His mind was already running because he knew his BP was high and he knew Pari had been awake the entire night at the hospital.

Right then, Pari picked up the call.

Her voice came through the speaker..soft, tired, but instantly alert and tense.

Otp

Pari: “Abhi… aapki tabiyat theek hai na? Bukhaar ho raha hai kya phir se?”

The worry in her tone made Arnav’s chest tighten further. He hated listening to that worry, especially knowing she had been up all night tending to patients.

Abhimanyu’s voice, in contrast, stayed steady and neutral as he replied,
“Haan Pari, meri tabiyat theek hai… bukhaar nahi hai.” He paused for a second before asking gently, “Aap abhi kahan ho?”

Pari: “Main ghar wapas aa rahi thi.”
The strain in her voice was unmistakable...fatigue, concern, and that instinctive protectiveness she carried for both of them.

Abhimanyu: “Theek hai.”

But Pari wasn’t convinced; it was clear in the way her next question came out a little sharper, a little quicker.

Pari: “Kya hua Abhi? Aap pareshan lag rahe ho.”

Arnav stiffened. He shut his eyes briefly, guilt and anxiety colliding inside him.
He didn’t want to add to her exhaustion. Not today. Not after her night shift.

Abhimanyu exhaled softly and answered in a level tone, “Nahi… kuch nahi. Sirf… Arni ka BP thoda badha hua hai.”

Avyuktha instantly looked at Arnav, worry clouding her eyes. Arnav looked away from her too, jaw tightening.
He didn’t want anyone, least of all Pari, to panic on his account.

Pari’s breath caught, and when she spoke again, the tremble in her voice was impossible to miss.

Pari: “Bhai ka BP kyun badha hua hai, Abhi? Main already high dose medicines de rahi hoon unhe… Kitna hai abhi?”

Arnav’s stomach sank.
The way she said bhai, with pure affection, fear, and responsibility, made him look down at his hands.

Abhimanyu glanced briefly at Arnav before replying quietly, “…192 over 93.”

A tiny gasp escaped Pari, a sound so full of alarm it made Arnav’s fingers curl into his palms. He hated this. Hated that she was worrying because of him.

Her voice came back hurried, strained, almost breathless.

Pari: “Abhi, yeh bohot zyada hai. Rukiye… main medicines lekar aa rahi hoon. Aap tab tak ek kaam kijiye...Bhai ko soup pila dijiye… bina namak ka. Please ensure that. Aur… aap bhi thoda pi lijiye. Aapko bhi fayda hoga.”

Her words were coming fast, her mind clearly racing even though she hadn’t slept properly.

Abhimanyu: in the same steady tone,
“Theek hai. Aaram se aaiyega. Drive slowly.”

Pari hummed in acknowledgment and cut the call.

Silence settled immediately after the beep faded.

Abhimanyu continued massaging Avyuktha’s legs. Avyuktha quietly shifted a little, her eyes flicking between the two brothers. Not a single word left her...just quiet, attentive worry.

Arnav, meanwhile, stared straight ahead.
His throat felt tight, his heart heavy.
Pari’s stressed voice kept replaying in his head, making his anxiety churn deeper.

He rubbed his palms on his thighs once, almost subconsciously, trying to ground himself.

He wasn’t scared of the BP.

He was scared of how worried she had sounded.

Pari entered the mansion hastily, medicines clutched tightly in her hand as she walked fast toward the rooms. In her hurry, she suddenly bumped into someone. She steadied herself, glanced to the side, and saw Anvi holding a water jug, heading toward the kitchen.

Pari placed a gentle hand on Anvi’s arm and said softly but distractedly, her voice tense, “Aaram se, baccha.”

Pari’s steps halted when she properly looked at Anvi’s face. The girl’s eyes were swollen, lids puffy and irritated, her cheeks blotchy, her whole face pale in a way that drained every bit of her usual brightness. Pari’s breath caught in her throat at the sight; this wasn’t tiredness, this was something deeper.

She bent her head slightly, softening her voice despite the tension coiled inside her. “Anu… kya hua baccha? Kuch hua hai kya?”

Anvi immediately shook her head, eyes darting away, trying to appear normal.
Then, quietly, in a hoarse, exhausted voice, she asked, “Ye… dawai kiske liye di?”

Pari blinked, not catching the tremble in her voice, her mind still half consumed with worry for Arnav. She answered honestly, unaware of the wave she was about to unleash inside the girl.

“Vo… Abhi ko bukhaar ho gaya tha, toh unke liye probiotics hai… taaki gut health stable rahe.” She lifted the small box in her hand, then added,
“Aur bhai ka BP bahot high hai, isliye unke liye kuch injections hain.”

She said it casually, as information, unaware of the storm her words struck.

Anvi froze. Her heartbeat thudded painfully. Her fingers tightened around the jug’s handle. Every emotion from last night...the fear, the shame, the guilt....surged up like a wave crashing into her chest. She opened her mouth to ask if they were okay, but her throat constricted, refusing to let any sound escape.

Pari finally noticed the stiffness in the girl’s posture. She softened again, reached out to touch her arm.

“Thik hai vo, baccha… tu chinta mat kar. Tujhe kya hua, Anu? Aise…”

Anvi took a tiny breath, lowered her gaze, and muttered, “…kuch nhi di.”

Without waiting for anything more, she turned away and walked toward her room, her shoulders pulled inward as if trying to make herself small.

Pari watched her go, confusion tightening her brows. Something was wrong, very wrong but she didn’t have time to stand there. She exhaled shakily and hurried to the kitchen.

When she stepped in, she saw Abhimanyu standing near the counter, stirring the soup. He looked up when he sensed her presence, giving her a small, weary smile, the kind that didn’t reach his eyes.

Pari’s worry doubled instantly. She walked straight to him.

“Abhi… kuch hua hai kya kal raat mein?”
Her voice was gentle, but the fear beneath it was clear.

Abhimanyu’s hands paused for a second, the spoon hanging mid air. His jaw tightened. He didn’t speak immediately, but the silence told her enough.

Then, slowly, heavily, he began to tell her… everything.

As Abhimanyu finished speaking, Pari stood rooted to the spot, her mind slowly stitching together every detail he had narrated.

With each passing second, the realisation settled deeper, turning heavier, until her entire chest felt tight.

The image of Anvi from earlier...pale, exhausted, her eyes puffy and stripped of all the natural spark she always carried...flashed through her mind, and suddenly everything began to make horrifying sense.

The way the girl couldn’t look her in the eye, the way her voice had cracked when she asked about the medicines, the way she had turned away as if carrying the weight of the world.

Pari felt something inside her twist harshly, and without meaning to, a small gasp left her lips as her eyes widened in dawning horror.

A tremble entered her voice as she whispered, “Oh God Abhi ye meri wajah se kya ho gya,” the tears already burning her eyes as she spoke.

Abhimanyu immediately turned towards her, confusion tightening his features as he asked, “Pari aap ye kya bol rhi hai?” But Pari didn’t stop. She couldn’t. Everything inside her felt like it was collapsing at once. She shook her head quickly, guilt pressing against her ribcage so sharply it almost hurt.

She began explaining everything, her words tumbling out with the desperate urgency of someone who had been struck by a disastrous truth. “Abhi Anu aayi thi aapse baat krne raat mai... Maine usse waha se jaane ko bol diya tha upar se Abhi maine usse bahot rudely baat ki thi Abhi... Maine usse bola tha ki battameez ho wagera wagera…”

Her voice cracked, but she pushed forward, because stopping meant letting the guilt swallow her. “Isliye i think Abhi she snuck out I'm damn sure Abhi... Koi party varty ke liye nhi gyi thi vo Abhi... Aap zara sochiye aaj ke pure din ke baare mai kitna kuch ho gya hai aaj... Things must be taking a troll on her Abhi... She came to apologise to you and I...I jerked her away without even listening to her…. Oh god ye maine kya kr diya.”

The moment the final sentence broke out of her, the weight of it all finally crashed down on her shoulders. Pari's breath wavered, and tears spilled over uncontrollably as she stood there, trembling, her guilt unfolding in layers she hadn’t even realised existed.

It wasn’t just that she had misunderstood Anvi. It wasn’t just that she had spoken harshly. It was the brutal truth that in an already unbearable day...where she had been insulted, punished, rejected, emotionally wrecked...Pari herself had delivered the last blow that pushed her over the edge.

It was her words, her dismissal, her harshness that had driven Anvi out into the night alone, vulnerable, broken, and without support.

The thought hit Pari so violently that she felt her throat close up, and her sobs finally escaped, raw and filled with a remorse she had never experienced before. She stood there before Abhimanyu, shattered, every fibre of her being consumed by the terrifying knowledge that her mistake could have cost the girl her life.

Abhimanyu looked at her, confusion and concern twisting together on his face as he gently asked, “Aap ro kyu rhi ho pari.” But Pari could barely steady herself, her breath trembling as guilt sank deeper into her bones. “Abhi ye sb meri wajah se.. Usse kuch ho jaata toh kya karti mai,” she whispered, voice breaking as tears rolled down her cheeks.

Abhimanyu didn’t let her collapse into that spiral alone, he immediately pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly, grounding her, trying to still the shaking in her body. His hand moved up and down her back in slow, soothing circles as he said softly, firmly, “Pari aap shi keh rhi ho she must have felt very bad but iska mtlb ye nhi hai that she would run out in the middle of the night juming down a 15 feet wall.” He tried to steady her, but Pari only shook her head, her expression raw, wounded, trembling with a guilt far too heavy for her fragile heart.

“Abhi aap smjh nhi rhe…” her voice cracked again, “Abhi, subh se itna sb ho raha tha kal… Pehle maine usse thappad maar diya phir aapne Bhai ko kasam se di that he won't interupt in her life.”

She paused, her eyes closing tightly as if each memory stung her all over again. When she continued, her voice was softer, heavy with remorse. “Abhi i know she was very wrong on her end to talk to Bhai like that… Lakin Abhi uske liye she was very guilty… You should have saw her and i know guilty hona doesn't give you a free pass… lakin Abhi she is already punished so harshly…. Mr jaisingh slapped her and then told her such stupid things… Aapko kya lag raha hai usse bura nhi laga hoga.”

Abhimanyu stayed quiet, letting her words wash over him slowly, letting the weight of her perspective settle inside him piece by painful piece.

Pari continued, her voice thickening as grief tightened around her chest. “Kisi ka baap uske muh pe ye bol de ki tujhe pet mai hi mar dena chaliye tha... Just imagine kitna bura laga hoga un dono bacchiyo ko...Anu aur Avu dono ko…. Aap jante hai na bachpan se relatives Anu ko bss taane dete the that she was a mistake and they didn't wish to have her aur aaj ye sb.”

She paused again, swallowing hard, a visible flinch crossing her features as she imagined what Anvi must have felt. The ache inside her deepened, twisting mercilessly.

“And phir uske baad bhi she came to apologise to you Abhi and I jerked her away so rudely,” she admitted, shame coating every word.

She lifted her hand and pressed it against her forehead, eyes shimmering, but even then she continued speaking because stopping meant drowning. “Just imagine Abhi....Bacchi hai vo... Kya kya sochke baithi hogi... We know her Abhi... She is reckless but she is not like that... But today was so hectic that it pushed her beyond any level of logical thinking.”

She sucked in a shaky breath, and another thought hit her with such force that her eyes widened slightly. “Aur Abhi... I think something else is also happening in her life... Keshav aur Anvi dono ne abhi abhi college shuru kiya hai Abhi and you know what kind of pressure freshers go through... Keshav jaa nhi rha hai and she bunked the classes... Anu aisi thodi hai she is such a bright kid and I know she is not that reckless ki keshav nhi jayega toh vo bhi nhi jayegi... something is happenjng in college to Abhi... Aaj bhi vo already bahot gusse mai aayi thi... She was already brusied when she came… And her anger bursted out on Bhai... I know its wrong Abhi but she is just a kid trying to enter the world for the first time... Humlog daat skte hai maar sate hai lakin aise we can't leave her... She must be overthinking everything Abhi... And you should control your anger Abhi right now she doesn't need your anger she need someone to listen to her side too.”

Pari drew in a breath, heavy and exhausted, and finished softly, “Bhai is beyond hurt and terrified Abhi... And it would be best if we talk to her first and then calm Bhai a bit because right now his health is also not good and one wrong word and eveything will fall right out.”

Abhimanyu absorbed it all silently, his face shifting from confusion to understanding, from worry to a firm sense of responsibility. He finally nodded slowly, voice low but decisive as he said, “Mai baat krta hoon usse.”

Pari opened her mouth, perhaps to warn him, perhaps to plead with him one more time, but Abhimanyu gently cut her off before she could spiral again. “Ha ha... Mai na datunga na maarunga I'll just listen to her side too... You're right she is a good kid not the reckless impulsive teenager we are seeing her right now... And also arnav is too terrified and hurt to look at things with different perspective and it can further mess the entire situation.”

Abhimanyu exhaled slowly, settling the storm of emotions inside him before he said, in a calmer, grounded tone, “Chalo pehle Arni ko ye soup pila ke injection de dijiye phir mai Anu se baat krta hoon.” His voice held a quiet resolve, the kind that steadied the air around them.

Pari clicked her tongue and let out a long, tired sigh, the kind that came from somewhere deep in her bones. She already knew the battlefield she was walking into, making Arnav drink soup when he didn’t want it was almost equal to taming a wounded lion. And tonight… she felt the weight of everything more heavily than usual.

Abhimanyu noticed the exhaustion instantly...the dullness in her eyes, the droop of her shoulders, the way her breath shuddered softly as if her body itself was asking for rest. He stepped closer, lowering his voice with a gentleness meant only for her. “Aap jaake fresh ho jaiye aur please Avu ki bhi help kr dijiye taaki mai Arni ko soup pila doon… I know you are exhauted Pari but i really need you… Tum toh janti ho apne Bhai ko.”

Pari nodded quietly, her heart warming at the way Abhimanyu spoke, not demanding, not ordering, but with this earnest softness that always made her chest tighten. He watched her face for a moment, saw the lingering hurt, the stress of the entire night clinging to her, and something inside him softened even further.

He leaned in...slow, deliberate and kissed her lips that caught Pari completely off guard. His mouth brushed hers softly at first, just a warm, teasing touch that made her breath stop in her throat. Before she could react, his hands slid around her waist, guiding her closer, deepening the kiss into something slower, warmer, and far more intimate than she was prepared for.

Pari inhaled sharply against his lips, her fingers trembling as they came up to his chest, not to push him away, but because her knees had gone weak. His kiss was unhurried yet consuming, the kind that pulled every thought from her mind, leaving only the heat of him and the way he tasted.

When he finally pulled back, only a fraction, his lips didn’t leave her skin. They drifted downward, brushing the corner of her mouth, her jawline, then trailing languidly down her neck. A deep, shuddering breath escaped her as he kissed her there...slow, claiming, reverent....his warm breath spreading goosebumps across her entire body.

“Abhi...” she whispered, her voice barely holding itself together.

Her hand pressed to his chest, meaning to stop him… but instead her fingers curled helplessly into his shirt, drawing in the warmth of him. Her eyelashes fluttered, her breathing uneven, utterly betrayed by her own body.

Abhimanyu didn’t stop. He kissed the soft skin of her neck again, deeper this time...then moved up, lips brushing behind her ear in one slow, sinful sweep. A spot he knew always made her shiver. Her body leaned into him instinctively as his hands tightened around her waist, steadying her trembling legs.

And then, in that low, husky voice that always unraveled her completely, he murmured against her ear, warm breath ghosting over her skin, “Don’t worry… you’ll have the best sleep… and I’ll make sure of that.”

Pari trembled, her entire body lighting up with goosebumps. Heat flooded her face, her neck, even her ears, everything tingling from where his lips had been just seconds before.

She finally pushed him away...not with anger, but with flustered desperation, the kind that came from knowing she would absolutely melt if he kissed her one more time. “K-kya aap subh subh shuru ho gye,” she muttered, trying to sound stern, but her breathless voice and burning cheeks betrayed her instantly.

Abhimanyu smirked...slow, wicked, infuriatingly confident...his eyes clearly reading every inch of her reaction. “Raat mai aapne shuru hone hi nhi diya,” he murmured back, voice a sinful drawl.

Pari’s breath hitched again. She hit his chest lightly, “Shut up abhi,” her tone soft, flustered, almost trembling and rushed out of the kitchen before the ground disappeared from under her completely.

Behind her, Abhimanyu followed with the soup and medicines, but Pari could still feel every place he had kissed her, from her lips to her neck, pulsing with warmth. His presence trailed her like a shadow, like lingering heat, and with each step she took, her body remembered him all over again, leaving her blushing uncontrollably as she hurried ahead.

___________________________________________

Thank you so much for reading this chapter.

This was a big one, almost 8000 words and I truly poured a lot of effort, thought, and emotion into it. Every scene, every pause, every feeling came from a very personal place, so this chapter means a lot to me.

I’d really love to hear your thoughts, if you’re comfortable sharing

1.Overall… how did this chapter make you feel?

2. How did Arnav and Avyuktha’s fight make you feel? Did it feel necessary, too harsh, or emotionally right for them?

3. Did you notice Avyuktha slowly coming out of her shell in this chapter?  Which moment made that change stand out to you?

4. When Pari realises that her words unknowingly pushed Anvi so far, did that moment hit you too? Do you think words said in anger can hurt more than we realise?

5. Do you feel Pari finally understood Anvi’s emotions, that she isn’t reckless or careless, but someone carrying much more inside?

6. Do you think Anvi deserves to be heard before anyone judges her actions?

7. Which heart-to-heart conversation are you craving the most right now?
Abhimanyu & Anvi / Pari & Anvi / Arnav & Anvi

8. Was there any scene, bond, or tiny moment that stayed with you even after you finished reading?

9. Did Abhimanyu and Pari’s kiss give you goosebumps? Since this was my first intimate scene, what did you enjoy and how do you think I can make it even better?

I won’t lie, when I see the comment targets not being met, it does make me feel a little disheartened. Your comments genuinely motivate me to write more, to write better, and to stay connected with this story. Right now, most comments are about the next update, or sometimes there are no comments at all and it makes me wonder if the emotions of the chapter reached you.

If you can, please tell me what you felt your favourite moment, a scene that hurt, a bond you loved, something that made you sad, angry, soft, or even confused. Anything at all.

Your words mean more to me than you realise.

Thank you for being here and for giving this story your time