My family knows that I am in mumbai. I came to Mumbai for the surgery... but no one knows I'm coming back sooner than expected. I can already imagine their faces when I walk in. It feels good, keeping this little secret—it's my way of surprising them."

I booked the cab and reached the airport. Soon, I boarded my flight—it's a night flight. I know I'll reach home late, but that's fine. I'll walk in quietly, and in the morning... they'll see me there, earlier than they expected. That will be my surprise."

The flight finally landed in Rajasthan. I made my way out of the airport and booked a cab. As I sat back in the car, watching the city lights blur past the window, a thought crossed my mind—it's been a while since I met Vanya and Ishita.

By the time I reached home, it was already 4 a.m. I slipped quietly into the house. And if you're wondering how I managed to get in so easily—the answer is simple. My brother and my chacha are CEOs; they built this mansion surrounded by guards. For me, walking in at this hour was never a problem.

I quietly made my way to my room. The house was silent, everyone fast asleep. I slipped inside, took a quick shower, and then lay down on my bed. Finally, I could rest. In just a few hours, morning would come—and with it, my surprise.

When I woke up, the clock showed 9:30. It's Sunday, so I know sab abhi so rahe honge... they usually wake up around 11. I couldn't sleep again—my mind kept thinking about how they'll react when they see me. I even thought of watching a drama, but episodes abhi release hi nahi hue. So, I picked up a book instead, letting the silence of the morning surround me.

"I didn't even realize the time... or the surprise I had planned. This book is just too good. But my male lead is suffering so much—his pain feels real, and I can't stop my tears. Kabhi kabhi lagta hai, why do stories hurt this much? Still, I keep reading... because somewhere, I want to see him heal."

Without checking the time or thinking about the surprise, I just started walking downstairs with my book in hand. My face was half-covered—by my nightwear and the book itself. Shayad koi mujhe dekh bhi le, they won't even realize it's me at first. I was lost in the story, still carrying the weight of those emotions, my tears not yet dry.

I sat on the chair in the dining room, my book clutched tightly in my hands. There was a faint noise behind me, but I ignored it—my heart was drowning in the story. The ending... it wasn't in my favour. My male lead suffered so much, and in the end, he was the only one left suffering. My chest tightened, my eyes blurred with tears. Suddenly, I cried out loud—'Why, God? Why did You make him suffer so much? Why do good people always get hurt?'* My voice broke, a sob tore out of me, echoing through the silence of the house. 'He didn't deserve this... koi itna acha insaan kyun itna dard jhelta hai?' My tears wouldn't stop, and the book trembled in my hands

"Suddenly, my brother pulled me into his lap, holding me tightly, while Priya, my Bhabhi, rushed to my side. Both of them tried to calm me down, whispering, 'Aroohi, what happened? Why are you crying so much?' But I couldn't stop. Another sob ripped through me, louder than before. My voice shook as I looked at them, tears streaming down my face.

'Tell me... why did he suffer so much? He was so good, so pure... phir bhi, he's the only one who had to bear all the pain. What was his fault? Why does God hurt good people like him?'

My words came out broken, desperate, almost like a child asking for answers. My brother's arms tightened around me, Priya's hand stroked my hair, but nothing could stop the storm inside me. The book had ended, but my heart refused to accept that ending."

My brother suddenly lifted me in his arms, carrying me in bridal style, and made me sit in the living room. But I didn't notice anyone around me—I was crying too hard, my arms wrapped tightly around him. My tears soaked his shirt as I kept repeating, almost begging, 'Why did he suffer so much? Tell me, bhai... why? He was so good, so pure, but still he's the only one who had to bear all the pain. What was his fault?'

Priya bhabhi sat beside me, her hand gently rubbing my back, but I couldn't stop. My sobs grew louder, my voice trembling as I asked again and again, 'Why does God hurt good people like him? Why only him?' My brother held me tighter, trying to steady me, but I was breaking apart in his arms, lost in the injustice of the story that felt too real

And then, from nowhere, Vanya and Ishita—my best friends—came rushing in. They sat beside me, their hands holding mine, their voices soft as they tried to console me. My brother's arms were still around me, Priya's touch steady on my back, and now even Vanya and Ishita were whispering, 'Aroohi, bas... shant ho jao, we're here.'

But my tears wouldn't stop. Even as they surrounded me with comfort, I kept crying, my voice trembling as I asked them, 'When did you come? Kab aaye tum dono? And why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you say anything?' My sobs broke through every word, my chest heavy with the pain of the story. The book was over, but its sorrow had spilled into my world, and now I was demanding answers from the people I loved most.

And then Vanya and Ishita whispered something that shook me completely. They said, 'Aroohi... not only us, everyone is here.'

My breath caught. Slowly, I lifted my tear-stained face upwards—and there they were. Vihaan Jiju, Riya and Karan, Vikram, Arjun, and Reyansh... even Reyansh's family was sitting there, watching me.

In that moment, I felt the ground tear apart beneath me. Bas zameen phat jaaye aur main usme sama jaaun. My sobs turned into silence, but the tears kept falling. I clung to my brother, realizing how foolish I must have looked—crying, shouting, questioning God, all in front of everyone. My heart whispered, 'I made myself such a fool... in front of them all.'

And then, as I sat there clinging to my brother, my sobs refusing to stop, I suddenly noticed my dress. My nightwear... childish, simple, almost silly. The moment I realized it, my heart sank. 'Why am I even alive right now?' I thought. 'Sab mujhe dekh rahe hain... and I look like a fool.'

My tears burned hotter, not just from the story but from shame. Everyone was here—family, friends, even Reyansh's family—and I was sitting in the middle of the living room, crying like a child, dressed like one too. I wanted the world to tear open and swallow me whole. 'I made myself such a fool... in front of them all.

Gathering every bit of courage, I finally stood up. My voice trembled as I asked, 'Why is everyone here? And why didn't anyone tell me?'

For a moment, silence filled the room. Then Priya, my Bhabhi, spoke gently, 'Aroohi... you were in Mumbai. We were shocked to see you here suddenly.'

Her words pierced me, but I managed to whisper back, 'I came early... I wanted to surprise you all.' My tears were still falling, my childish nightwear clinging awkwardly to me, but I stood there—exposed, vulnerable, yet trying to hold myself together in front of everyone.

Today, Reyansh's family was coming to Aroohi's house. As they arrived, their eyes widened at the sight of the beautiful mansion. Riya leaned closer to Karan and Vikram, whispering softly, 'This is so beautiful...' and both of them nodded in agreement.

They made their way inside, where Aroohi's chacha, chachi, bhai Aarav, and Bhabhi Priya were already present. The family welcomed them warmly, guiding them to the living area. Everyone settled down, the atmosphere filled with polite smiles and gentle conversation.

Aroohi's chachi turned to Vanya with affection, asking, 'Beta, how are you after marriage? It's been a month now.'

Vanya smiled, her cheeks glowing, and replied softly, 'It's good, chachi... sab theek hai.'

The room filled with warmth as the families began talking, laughter and stories weaving through the air, making the mansion feel alive.

And then, suddenly, everyone's eyes turned toward the staircase. A figure was coming down slowly, clutching a book. Vanya's eyes widened, and she whispered in shock, almost yelling, 'It's Aroohi... but what is she doing here? She was in Mumbai na... then how did she come here?'

Her words spread like fire. Even Aroohi's own family looked stunned, their faces mirroring disbelief.

Aroohi walked quietly, her steps hesitant, and sat down on a chair with her book still in hand. The room fell into silence, every gaze fixed on her. Ishita leaned closer, her voice trembling, 'Mujhe aisa kyun lag raha hai... kuch hone wala hai.'

The atmosphere grew heavy, suspense hanging in the air. Aroohi's presence was unexpected, her emotions raw, and everyone knew something deeper was about to unfold.

And then, suddenly, a loud sob escaped from Aroohi. The sound pierced through the silence, making everyone freeze. Her brother and Bhabhi Priya rushed to her side, holding her, whispering gently, 'Aroohi, shant ho jao... bas, we're here.' But she kept crying, her tears unstoppable.

They stared at her, shocked at how broken she looked. Her brother lifted her again and made her sit in the living area, his arms wrapped around her protectively. Ishita and Vanya quickly joined, their hands on hers, their voices soft, trying to console her.

But as Aroohi's sobs slowed just enough for her to breathe, she lifted her face—and that's when she noticed. Everyone was there. Vihaan Jiju, Riya, Karan, Vikram, Arjun, Reyansh... even Reyansh's family, all sitting silently, watching her.

The moment I stepped into Aroohi's house with my family, I was already impressed by the mansion's beauty. Everyone was talking, laughing, settling in... but then, suddenly, I heard a sob. A loud, broken sob that silenced the room.

I turned, and there she was—Aroohi. She wasn't supposed to be here; she was in Mumbai. Yet she sat there, clutching a book, crying as if her world had collapsed. Her brother and Bhabhi rushed to console her, but her pain was spilling out in front of everyone.

My chest tightened. I couldn't move, couldn't speak. 'Why is she crying like this? What has hurt her so deeply?' I kept staring, my heart aching with every sob that escaped her lips. Ishita and Vanya joined in, trying to calm her, but she looked so fragile, so lost.

And then she lifted her face... her tear-stained eyes scanned the room, and she realized we were all there. For a second, I saw the shock in her gaze, the embarrassment, the way she wanted the ground to swallow her whole.

I wanted to go to her, to hold her, to tell her she wasn't alone. But I stood frozen, watching her break in front of everyone, feeling her pain as if it were mine.

Dadu's voice broke the silence. He leaned forward, his tone gentle yet firm, 'Aroohi beta, what happened? Why are you crying like this?'

For a moment, she hesitated. Her fingers clutched the book tighter, her lips trembling. Then, with a broken voice, she whispered, 'I was reading... in the story, the male lead suffered so much. The girl he loved stayed with him for a long time, but in the end... she left him. And then... he died.'

The way she spoke, the way her tears fell—it didn't feel like she was narrating a book. It felt like she was living that pain herself. Every word carried the weight of her heart, as if the male lead's suffering had become her own.

I kept staring at her, my chest heavy. 'She's crying for a character... but it looks like her soul is breaking.' The room was silent, everyone watching her, but I couldn't take my eyes off her. Her pain was raw, unfiltered, and for the first time, I realized how deeply she felt every emotion.

As I watched her, tears streaming down her face, I felt something stir inside me. The way she cried for that character, the way she spoke as if his pain was her own—it wasn't just about a book. It was about her heart.

In that moment, I realized... Aroohi is a pure soul. If she ever loves someone, she will do it with her whole heart. No half measures, no pretenses. Her love would be devotion, her loyalty unshakable.

I kept staring at her, my chest heavy, my thoughts whispering, 'She feels so deeply... she loves so completely. And maybe that's why her pain looks so real.'

The room was filled with silence, but inside me, a storm was raging. I had never seen anyone so vulnerable, so honest with their emotions. And I knew—this girl wasn't ordinary. She was rare.

Just when the atmosphere felt too heavy, Karan leaned forward with a smile and said, 'Waise Aroohi, aapki dress bohot cute hai.'

I saw how her face flushed instantly, embarrassment painting her cheeks. She lowered her gaze, biting her lip, trying to hide behind her tears. But to me... she looked so vulnerable, so innocent—like a small child clutching her emotions too tightly.

In that moment, a thought struck me with such force that I couldn't ignore it. 'After our marriage, she will be my first kid... my bacha, my jaana.'

The way she sat there, fragile yet pure, I felt an overwhelming urge to protect her, to shield her from every pain. She wasn't just cute—she was precious. And I knew, if she ever gave her heart, she would give it completely, with all her soul.

Aroohi sat curled up on the sofa, her eyes glistening as tears slipped quietly down her cheeks. She tried to hide her face, but the childish outfit she was wearing made her feel even more exposed. The bright colors and playful patterns, once meant to be cute, now felt like a spotlight on her vulnerability.

Suddenly, overwhelmed by the mix of shame and sadness, she sprang to her feet. "I'll... I'll come after changing," she stammered, her voice trembling. Without waiting for anyone's response, she ran toward the stairs, her steps quick and uneven, as if escaping the weight of everyone's gaze.

I sat on the sofa, the sting of tears blurring my vision. Why did I even wear this? The childish outfit clung to me like a cruel joke, every bright color screaming against the quiet dignity I wanted to show. I could feel their eyes on me—curious, amused, maybe even pitying—and the weight of it pressed harder on my chest.

My throat burned as I whispered to myself, I don't belong like this... not like a little girl. The embarrassment was unbearable, twisting inside me until I couldn't sit still anymore.

"I'll... I'll come after changing," I blurted out, my voice breaking. Before anyone could answer, I shot up from the sofa and ran toward the stairs, each step a desperate escape from the gaze that made me feel so small.

I slammed the door shut and turned the lock, my chest heaving as if I had just outrun the world. The silence of my room wrapped around me, but inside my head it was loud—too loud. I pressed my palms against my face and whispered, "Why, God... why am I so stupid? What must they be thinking of me?"

The humiliation burned deeper than the tears. I couldn't bear the image of their eyes, their laughter hidden behind polite smiles. I stumbled into the bathroom, desperate to wash it all away. The shower's cold spray hit me like needles, but I let it run, hoping it could rinse off the shame clinging to me.

Afterward, I pulled on a simple kurti and jeans, something safe, something grown-up. But when I looked into the mirror, my swollen eyes stared back, red and puffy, betraying everything I wanted to hide. They reminded me of the fool I had made of myself, of the childishness I couldn't escape.

I wiped my face one last time, forcing myself to breathe deeply. You can do this, I told myself, even though my heart still felt heavy. With every step down the staircase, I gathered the pieces of courage I had left, stitching them together into something that looked like confidence.

As I reached the hall, I felt all eyes turn toward me. Their smiles—gentle, warm, maybe even forgiving—met me like a wave. For a second, I wanted to run again, but instead I curved my lips into a smile of my own. It wasn't real, not yet, but it was the only shield I had.

Inside, my thoughts whispered, They saw me cry. They saw me break. And now they see me pretending. But outside, I stood tall, hoping my forced smile would be enough to hide the storm still raging in my chest.

I sat down slowly, trying to steady my breath, my forced smile still clinging to my lips. The silence around me felt heavy, so I broke it with a question, my voice softer than usual.
"How... how did you all come here?"

For a moment, no one answered. Then Ishita leaned forward, her eyes warm and steady, and said gently, "For you, it is very important."

Before anyone else could speak, Chachi reached out and gently took my hand. Her touch was firm yet comforting, and her eyes carried a seriousness that made my heart race.

"We are here," she said slowly, "for your hand."

My words spilled out in desperation—"How can I give you my hand? This is very important... how will I do my surgery, and most important, how will I live my life?"

I expected silence, maybe sympathy. But instead, the room erupted in laughter. Their smiles widened, their voices overlapped, and the sound of their amusement filled the air.

I froze, my heart sinking. They're laughing... at me? At my fear? At my pain? My swollen eyes burned again, and I felt smaller than ever, like a child who had spoken too much.

Inside, my thoughts screamed: Why don't they understand? Why does everything I say turn into a joke?

Chachi still held my hand, her laughter softer than the others, but it didn't ease the sting. I forced myself to sit still, even though every part of me wanted to run again.

Their laughter still rang in my ears, stinging like salt on a wound. I sat frozen, unsure whether to cry again or shout at them for not understanding.

Then Vaanya leaned closer, her smile playful but kind. "Buddhu," she said softly, "we are asking your hand for marriage."

The words hit me like a thunderclap. My breath caught, my heart skipped, and for a moment the world around me blurred. Marriage? My mind spun—was this why they had all gathered, why Chachi held my hand, why Ishita said it was important?

I stared at Vaanya, my swollen eyes wide, my lips trembling. Inside, a storm of fear, confusion, and disbelief swirled together. Marriage... my hand... my life. How can they laugh when this is so heavy for me?

Yet beneath the shock, a strange warmth flickered—because their smiles weren't mocking anymore. They were waiting, watching, hoping.

Vaanya's words still echoed—"We are asking your hand for marriage." My chest tightened, and before I could stop myself, the words tumbled out.

"How can I? Look at me... like me and marriage cannot happen. And you guys... you didn't even ask me!"

My voice cracked, trembling between anger and despair. I felt the sting of tears again, but this time mixed with frustration. They laugh, they decide, they speak of marriage as if my life is theirs to plan.

The room grew still, their smiles fading into surprise at my outburst. My heart pounded, my swollen eyes burning as I stared at them, waiting—desperate—for someone to understand that this wasn't just a joke, not something to laugh away.

Inside, my thoughts screamed: It's my choice. My life. How can they talk of marriage without even asking me?

I sat there, my voice still trembling from my protest—"How can I... marriage cannot happen, and you didn't even ask me!"

Chachu leaned forward, his tone calm but firm, his hand resting reassuringly on mine.
"Beta," he said softly, "ek din to honi hai shaadi. To Reyansh kyu nahi? Vo itna accha hai... tum ek baar try to karo."

Inside, my thoughts clashed—Is this really my choice? Can I trust Reyansh? Or am I just being pushed into something I don't understand?

I looked around the room, everyone's eyes fixed on me, waiting for my answer. My lips parted, but no words came.

Ishita leaned closer, her voice calm but firm.
"Aroohi, you are just afraid. What if he cheats, or some other reason... those thoughts are stopping you. But trust us, Reyansh bhai is such a good choice for you."

Her words pressed against my heart, trying to soothe the storm inside me. I wanted to argue, to shout that they didn't understand—but instead, my eyes moved slowly, almost unwillingly, toward Reyansh.

He was already looking at me. His gaze was steady, patient, and it made my breath catch. My swollen eyes met his, and for a moment, the noise of the room faded. I couldn't tell if his look carried love, pity, or just quiet strength—but it held me there, frozen, with hesitation trembling inside me.

Dadi's voice cut through the tension, calm yet commanding.
"Tum dono ek baar jaake akele baat karo."

Her words left no space for argument. My heart thudded as I stood up, my legs shaky but determined. Reyansh rose too, his movements steady, his eyes never leaving mine.

The room seemed to part for us, everyone watching silently as we walked side by side. My breath caught with every step, the weight of their expectations pressing down on me.

We made our way to my room, the air thick with unspoken questions. I pushed the door open, my hand trembling, and stepped inside. Reyansh followed, his presence filling the space with a quiet intensity.

For the first time, it was just us—no laughter, no family, no voices—only the silence that demanded we speak our truths.

"Now what will happen in the next chapter? What will they talk about?"

so stay tuned for next chapter

bye

lots of love from your

author ikku ❤️