Continue....

Aanya doesn't speak.
She can't.
Her throat is too tight, her heart too heavy.

She just holds Ishaan's arm—softly, gently, as if telling him I'm here... I'm not going anywhere.

That single touch shatters something inside him.
Something he has kept locked for too long.

Its okay. you dont have to contrel yourself from breaking. let it out, i am here ishaan i am here. she wishperd softly.

Ishaan tries to look away, tries to breathe, tries to swallow the lump in his throat—but his chest starts to heave, his eyes burn, and his jaw trembles.

"I'm fine," he whispers—voice unsteady.
"Aanya... I'm fine."

But he's not.
Not even close.

Aanya moves closer, her hand sliding from his arm to his shoulder—warm, steady, full of quiet support.

That's it.
That's all it takes.

Ishaan's shoulders collapse.
His breath breaks.
He presses a hand to his face as if trying to hold everything together—but the dam has cracked wide open.

A sob escapes him.
A raw, broken sound he immediately tries to hide.

Aanya cups his cheek with trembling fingers.

"Ishaan..."

The way she says his name—soft, gentle, full of pain and care—undoes him completely.

He leans forward, his forehead falling onto her shoulder.
His hands grip her arms as if she's the only thing keeping him alive, the only ground under his feet.

And then—

He breaks.

He cries.
Not loud... not dramatic...
But deep, silent, shaking sobs that come from a place that has been bleeding for too long.

Aanya wraps both arms around him, pulling him closer, holding him tighter—like she wants to shield him from every memory, every scar.

His voice comes out choked.

"I tried... Aanya... I tried to save them... I tried so hard..."

She presses her cheek to his hair, tears slipping down her face.

"I know... I know you did..."

His body shakes against hers.

"I lost everything... in one day. My sister... my mother... my name... my life..."

Aanya holds him closer, her fingers sliding through his hair in soft, soothing strokes.

"You're not alone," she whispers, voice trembling.
"I'm here, Ishaan... I'm right here."

He clutches her tighter, burying himself completely in her arms.

Aanya closes her eyes.

They cry together—two people broken in different ways, tied by pain neither of them deserved.
Their tears mix, their breaths tremble, their bodies lean into each other as if the world outside has stopped existing.

In that moment...
There is no revenge.
No hatred.
No lies.

Just two wounded hearts...
Finally letting go.
Finally finding strength in each other.

And for the first time—
Ishaan allows himself to be weak.
Because in Aanya's embrace...
He finally feels safe.

___

The next morning, everyone gathered at the dining table for breakfast.
A few minutes later, Ishaan walked in—last, as usual.

The moment he entered, the atmosphere shifted.

His eyes were puffy and red, the skin under them hollow and bruised.
He looked like a child who had cried himself to sleep after losing something precious—and the grief still clung to him, dimming his glow.

Everyone fell silent for a moment, watching him as he quietly took his seat.

Aanya, sitting beside Mrs. Mehra, noticed everything—the stiffness in his shoulders, the way he avoided looking at anyone directly, the heaviness around him. She knew he was still hurting. She just didn't know how to help.

They all began eating again.

Mrs. Mehra, however, kept looking at her son. After a few seconds, she asked softly,

"Ishaan, why are your eyes so red? What happened?"

Ishaan froze with his coffee mug halfway to his lips.
He took a slow, steady breath and forced a small smile.

"Nothing, Mom," he said lightly.
"A bug got in my eyes yesterday. I rubbed them too much—that's why they're red."

Everyone believed him and resumed eating.

Except Mrs. Mehra.

A mother always knows.

She could see through the lie.
She could see the silent bruises in his expression.
She knew her son was breaking inside—because she had watched him face everything alone.
He had carried every burden quietly.
He had lost the most precious person of his life—his hero, his sister.

But she didn't say anything.
She just lowered her eyes and continued eating.

Aanya noticed this exchange too—the pain behind Ishaan's smile and the worry behind Mrs. Mehra's silence.

After breakfast, Aanya gently helped Mrs. Mehra return to her room.
It wasn't that Mrs. Mehra couldn't walk by herself... but Aanya stayed beside her anyway, and Mrs. Mehra never stopped her. She actually liked Aanya's presence.

Mrs. Mehra sat on the bed.
Aanya handed her the medicines and waited until she took them.

A few minutes later, Ishaan entered the room.

He walked straight to his mother.

"Mom, did you take your medicine?" he asked softly.

"Yes, Ishaan," she smiled.
"I took them. You don't need to worry about me anymore. I'm perfectly fine... look."

She gestured playfully towards herself, trying to lighten the moment.
Ishaan smiled—a small, genuine one—and leaned down to kiss her forehead.

Mrs. Mehra, smiling warmly.

Aanya stood quietly on the side, watching them.
Her smile softened too.
For a moment, she remembered her own brother...
And she realized something unexpectedly painful:

There were so many similarities between Ishaan and Aransh.

Especially their love for their families.
Both men were devoted, protective, and carried their loved ones in their hearts like a sacred duty.

Her thoughts broke when Ishaan spoke again.

"Okay, Mom. I'm leaving for the office. You take care of yourself."

"Don't worry," Mrs. Mehra said, smiling.
"Aanya is here to take care of me."

She motioned toward Aanya.

Ishaan followed her gaze and looked at Aanya—
A small smile touched his lips.

"I love her company. Where did you find her, Ishaan?" Mrs. Mehra teased lightly.

Ishaan laughed softly, shaking his head.

He gave his mother a quick goodbye kiss, then looked at Aanya and nodded at her in silent acknowledgment.

Aanya returned the gesture with a gentle smile.

Something was changing between them.
Slowly.
Quietly.

Something neither of them had realized yet.

But it was there—warm, soft, and growing silently in the spaces between their words.

_____

After Ishaan left for the office, Mrs. Mehra and Aanya sat together in the quiet room. That's when Aanya's eyes fell on a photo frame kept on the bedside table.

It was an old picture — two couples and one more boy sitting between them. All of them were smiling with pure joy, the kind of happiness that shines only in youth.

Aanya leaned closer.

The first couple was hugging each other warmly, lost in their own world.
The second couple looked playful — the girl was on the guy's back, laughing her heart out, while the man held her tightly as if his entire world depended on her.

Aanya's eyes widened.

The man carrying the girl...
That was Aransh. Her own brother.

Her heart skipped a beat as she stared at his familiar smile.

Then her gaze moved to the first couple — and she froze again.

The man hugging the girl...
It was Ishaan.

He looked younger, carefree, glowing with happiness.
And beside him, the girl he hugged — she was beautiful, smiling softly.

Between the couples sat a boy she felt she had seen somewhere, but couldn't exactly recall.

They all looked so young... maybe their college days.

She was so lost in the picture that she didn't notice Mrs. Mehra looking at her with a small, nostalgic smile.

"It's my babies' college-time photo," Mrs. Mehra said gently.

Aanya looked up at her.

Mrs. Mehra gestured, "Bring it here, dear. I'll tell you who is who."

Aanya quickly stood, handed her the frame, and then sat beside her on the bed.

Mrs. Mehra smiled softly as her eyes fell on the picture.

"Look at them... so cute, isn't it?" she said, pointing at the first couple.
"Here, this is Ishaan... and this is his girlfriend, Bella."

Aanya looked at the girl — Bella.
So she is Bella... Ishaan's fiancée.
She really was beautiful.

Then Mrs. Mehra moved her finger to the second couple. But the moment she pointed at the man, her smile faded. Her throat tightened.

"And this..." she paused, swallowing a painful lump,
"...this is Aransh. My daughter Nisha's boyfriend."

Aanya immediately sensed the heaviness in her voice — the hidden anger, the hurt.

Then Mrs. Mehra pointed at the girl laughing on his back.

"This is my daughter... my Nisha."
Her voice trembled with a sad smile.

Finally, she pointed at the guy sitting in the middle.

"And this is Arav — Ishaan's best friend."

Aanya absorbed everything silently.

"They... they all studied together?" she asked softly.

Mrs. Mehra exhaled deeply, her eyes lost somewhere far away.

"Yes... they all went to the same college.
Nisha and Aransh were seniors.
Ishaan, Bella, and Arav were juniors. They had different courses, but somehow, they all ended up becoming one group."

There was warmth in her tone at first.

"Nisha, Aransh, and Ishaan knew each other since childhood actually... because Aransh is my best friend's son."

Pain flickered in her eyes again.

"Nisha and Aransh were best friends first... but in college they fell in love."

She paused, then continued softly:

"Bella and Ishaan met in college too. She was a medical student, and Ishaan was in business. They became friends, and after graduation, they got into a relationship.”they were together for three years now as a couple."

Aanya listened quietly, her heart tightening.

"Arav was Ishaan's classmate... they became close from the very first day. Ishaan introduced everyone to each other... and then they became inseparable.
Trips... outings... celebrations... they shared everything."

She smiled painfully.

"Nisha and Aransh graduated first and joined their fathers' businesses.
Even then, the group stayed close. They were all happy."

Her eyes watered.

"After Ishaan, Bella, and Arav graduated... they also joined their professions. Arav went to his father's company, Bella to the hospital, and Ishaan joined Nisha."

A pause. A deep breath.

"Everything was perfect. i told ishaan to get settled down with bella so they decided to get married.
We fixed the date.
Nisha was thrilled — she even decided that after their wedding, she would marry Aransh."

Her voice broke.

"...But Aransh destroyed everything."

Tears filled her eyes.

Aanya's heart pounded. Her brother? no her arasnh bhai can't do this she know how much aransh love his lady boss that's what he called nisha whenever he talked obout nisha to aanya.

Mrs. Mehra continued, voice shaking:

"He... cheated on my daughter.
She loved him madly... blindly.
But he betrayed her."

A tear rolled down her cheek.

"My Nisha... couldn't bear it. She... she ended her own life."

Aanya felt her entire body freeze.

Her breath caught.

Without thinking, she wrapped her arms around Mrs. Mehra, holding her tightly as the older woman quietly cried.

Aanya didn't know what to say.
She didn't know how to breathe.

Her brother.
Her Aransh.
The one she adored more than anything.

Was the reason for another girl's death. no it can't be. 

She closed her eyes, hugging Mrs. Mehra even tighter.

Mrs. Mehra wiped the last of her tears, but the pain on her face didn't fade.
Her voice was soft... tired... filled with years of buried grief.

"In all of this... my baby, my Ishaan, went through the most."

Aanya looked at her, heart aching.

Mrs. Mehra continued:

"I don't know what happened after I slipped into a coma... but I know my son. I know how much he must have suffered."

Her eyes glistened.

"He is the one who got hurt the most here. And that is why I'm trying to stay strong now."

Her lips trembled.

"It hurts so much. I still can't accept that my Nisha is gone... that my child is not with us anymore."

Aanya felt a tear escape her own eye.

Mrs. Mehra placed a gentle hand on her chest.

"But I'm trying... trying to accept it. Trying to be strong for my babies."

She smiled painfully.

"I lost one daughter... but I still have three children who need me. I have to stay strong for them. Ishaan did everything he could — he held our family together. Now it's my turn... my time to take care of my babies, to keep them happy."

Aanya sat silently, tears rolling down her cheeks.
She couldn't even imagine the depth of this woman's pain.

"You're so strong, Aunty..." she whispered.

Mrs. Mehra gave a soft, weary smile.

"I have to be, dear."

She inhaled deeply as if gathering the strength to say her next words.

"You know... I never wanted Ishaan to marry anyone else. I always wished he would marry my best friend Disha's daughter."

Aanya's breath caught.

Mrs. Mehra frowned slightly, touching her temple.

"It's been so long since I met her... that I can't even remember her name properly. And Disha and I didn't talk about her for years... maybe that's why the name slipped out of my mind.
Or maybe it's because of the accident and medicines."

Aanya went completely still.

Her hands froze in her lap.

So... Aunty wanted Ishaan to marry... me?
Me...?
Even though she hasn't seen me since I was 13?

Her heart thudded painfully.
She wasn't sure if she should feel shocked... happy... guilty... or scared.

Her thoughts broke when Mrs. Mehra continued.

"But when Ishaan told me he loved Bella... I accepted it."

There was no bitterness — only a mother's soft acceptance.

"I never wanted to force my children into anything. I only want their happiness. And when I met Bella... I instantly loved her."

Aanya listened quietly, each word pricking her heart like a needle.

"She is such a cheerful, smart girl. I knew she was perfect for my Ishaan."

Aanya swallowed.
The room suddenly felt smaller.
Her chest heavy.

Even if she didn't want to admit it...
It hurt.
It hurt so sharply to hear that Ishaan loved someone else.

Mrs. Mehra, unaware of Aanya's silent pain, kept going:

"And most importantly... they loved each other."

Aanya's fingers tightened slightly.

Love each other.
The words echoed like a painful bell inside her.

Mrs. Mehra smiled hopefully.

"As soon as Bella returns after completing  her work ... I will fix their marriage."

Aanya's breath hitched.

"This accident already delayed everything so much. My Ishaan is hurting... and once they get married, he will start healing. He will be busy in his married life... and he will be happy again.
I just want my baby's happiness."

She spoke with pure, innocent intention — completely unaware of how each word shattered something deep inside Aanya.

Still, Aanya forced a gentle smile.

She wouldn't let her pain show.

Not in front of a mother who had suffered far more than she ever could.

She nodded softly, eyes lowered — hiding the storm inside her heart.

Little did Mrs. Mehra know...
That her every hopeful word was unknowingly breaking Aanya from the inside.

___

The room was dark.
Not the kind of darkness that comes from switching off the lights...
but the kind that feels alive — heavy, suffocating, swallowing every breath.

A women sat on the edge of the single bed, her body bent forward, her hands limp in her lap.
She looked almost lifeless, as if her soul had slipped away and only her shadow was left behind.

Her hair fell messily around her face, hiding half of it.
The dim light from the corridor barely touched her features, enough to show how pale she had become... how drained.

Her breathing was slow.
Too slow.
Like each inhale was a burden... and each exhale a quiet surrender.

Her eyes were open, but they weren't seeing.
They were fixed on the wall — blank, unfocused, empty.
There was no spark, no fear, no anger, no sadness...
just nothing.

The silence in the room was unsettling.
Too quiet.
Every second felt like it was stretching longer than the last.

Her fingers twitched once...
barely...
as if she was trying to hold onto something that was slipping away inside her.

The shadows shifted on the walls when a cold breeze slipped in through the slightly open window, making the curtain move slowly, almost hauntingly — like a ghost brushing past.

But women didn't react.
She didn't flinch.
She didn't move.

She sat there like someone trapped between consciousness and collapse...
like a person who had cried until no tears were left...
and now only the emptiness remained.

The whole room felt wrong.
Heavy.
Like something terrible had happened... or was about to happen.

Her chest rose again... painfully slow... and for a moment, it almost seemed like she might stop breathing altogether.

Her lips parted slightly — but no sound came out.
Not a whisper.
Not a sob.

Just silence.

Dark.
Cold.
Suffocating silence.

She looked like a girl who had lost herself somewhere far, far away...
and now, only her hollow body sat on that lonely bed.

*"I'm sorry if this chapter felt boring or unnecessary to any of you, but it was important.
To clear every doubt and confusion, to understand the story better, and to feel Mrs. Mehra's pain—this part was needed.
This was closure.

And tell me... do you have any guesses about who that woman is?
Things are getting intense now, aren't they?
The truth is getting closer.
And our couple Mr. and Mrs. Mehra are also getting closer... ohooo, I'm excited for the upcoming updates.
What about you all?"✨🫀😉