Part : 1
Anika dressed, the familiar rhythm of household chores a comforting counterpoint to the anticipation bubbling within her. She looked effortlessly beautiful, a single bindi adorning her forehead, the mangalsutra—a symbol of their marriage—resting against her throat. That delicate chain was a constant reminder of her courage, a tangible connection to Shivaay’s presence.
“Khanna bhaiya, please ensure everything is *khidkitod*,” she said, her voice brimming with excitement as she placed a comb on the table. “Shivaay is coming home today.”
Five years. Five years she had waited. Those years had felt like an eternity, each day a testament to her unwavering faith. She’d held onto his things—his watch, his shirts, most importantly, the mangalsutra—fragments of him that kept hope alive. Though those objects sustained her, they couldn’t replace his presence. She’d trusted him implicitly, even when every piece of evidence pointed against him, because she *knew* him better than anyone.
“Yes, Anika. I understand,” Khanna replied, his voice warm. He’d seen firsthand the depth of his sister’s love for Shivaay. He’d prepared everything, knowing Shivaay’s penchant for perfection. Anika was already soaring on cloud nine, buoyed by news of his bail.
“Okay, bhaiya, I’m leaving now,” she said, turning towards the jail. She couldn’t wait another second. The thought of finally holding him again sent a tremor of anticipation through her.
Entering the police station, her heart pounded with a hopeful rhythm.
“Mr. Oberoi has already departed, Mrs. Oberoi,” a policeman informed her, his tone flat.
“Oh…” Anika’s voice caught in her throat. The words felt like a physical blow. He’d left. He hadn’t waited for her. A wave of hurt washed over her, threatening to overwhelm her. But she still needed to see him, to understand.
She hurried through the station, a frantic energy driving her forward. A church loomed into view.
“I think I should pray first, for his wellbeing and our future,” she murmured, tears welling in her eyes. The weight of her emotions threatened to break her. She needed strength, needed to feel his presence, even if only in her imagination.
Inside the church, she saw him. He sat motionless, like a statue carved from shadow. She ran towards him, her heart leaping in her chest.
She cupped his face in her hands.
“Shivaay,” she whispered, her voice trembling.
She wanted to demand answers, to understand his actions. But all that came out was a soft murmur. The mere sight of him after five years was enough to flood her with relief.
She released his face and wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly.
“I missed you, Shivaay,” she cried, her voice choked with emotion.
Shivaay had felt broken, abandoned by his own family. But this woman—this woman who had believed in him—had remained his anchor. He respected her, loved her, and knew she deserved better than the pain he’d endured.
“I missed you too,” he replied, returning her embrace. He’d been emotionally fractured by the betrayal of his family. He needed to appear strong for her, to shield her from his inner turmoil. He hugged her back, trying to convey the depth of his love and gratitude.
He was a shell, numb to his own pain. He wanted to weep, to unleash the torrent of emotions within him, but tears refused to come. He’d become emotionally paralyzed, unable to feel anything beyond a dull ache. He needed to be strong for Anika.
They remained locked in the embrace for a long moment, finding solace in each other’s presence.
“What the hell is this, Shivaay? Why did you leave without waiting?” Anika demanded, anger simmering beneath the surface.
“Because I can’t go back there again, Anika. I can’t bear their hatred,” Shivaay replied, his voice cold and distant.
A wave of insecurity washed over Anika. “Am I not a part of his family? Who am I then?” Tears started to stream down her face. She composed herself, clutching his shoulders. "But you can fight for me, right?" She needed to hide her vulnerability, to project strength.
“No, Anika. I can’t fight them. I can’t live with their contempt. They are my family, and without their acceptance, I’m lost.”
Family, family, family… just this world for him. Those people who hated him were more important than her. She’d waited five years, hoping for a future filled with happiness. But now, she felt like an outsider, a stranger in his life. She couldn’t tolerate this betrayal. She needed to know where she stood.
“You… how can I forget that I’m not your family? It’s okay, Shivaay. Live wherever you want. Khanna bhaiya will help you. Goodbye,” she choked out, tears streaming down her face. She tried to suppress her emotions, but the pain was too overwhelming.
Wiping her tears, she turned to leave when Shivaay gripped her hand tightly.
How could he let her go, when his life depended on her?
“Please don’t go, Anika. I’m breathing just for you. I’m alive because of your trust. Otherwise, I would have killed myself,” he pleaded, his voice raw with desperation. He tried to project his usual warmth, but his lack of emotion betrayed him.
“Shh,” Anika said, pressing a finger to his lips.
“Truth, Anika. Everyone has left me already. Please don’t leave me,” Shivaay whispered, holding her hand and kissing her fingers. He pulled her close, seeking solace in her embrace.
“I won’t,” she said, burying her face in his shoulder, feeling his presence after five years.
“You’re also part of my family, Anika,” Shivaay murmured, trying to convince her—and himself—that she was more than just a lover, that she was truly a part of his life.
“Then let’s go home,” Anika pleaded, her voice filled with hope.
She held both of his hands and squeezed them lightly.
“Please.”
“Okay… only for you,” Shivaay conceded, his voice laced with exhaustion. Her happiness mattered more than anything. He would face his demons, if only to see her smile.