AUTHOR'S POV

Rudra walks toward his cabin with his arm looped securely around Saanvi’s waist, holding her close as she leans into him. She clings to his side with unusual ease.

“You’re okay, right?” he asks, glancing down at her.

“Yes, everything is alright.” She tilts her head to him. “But why are you asking?”

“Because you’re behaving… different.” He frowns slightly, though a small smile tugs at his mouth. “Not that I’m complaining.” He presses a kiss to her head, a quiet gesture of reassurance.

They step inside and stop. His desk stands under a crowd of bouquets and envelopes, petals and tissue paper piled everywhere. Saanvi straightens and frowns. Before she speaks, a knock comes from behind them. Vedant slips in on Rudra’s nod, takes in the flowers with a quick look. “The staff and doctors wanted to welcome you back. They sent flowers since you joined again today,” Vedant explains.

Rudra nods, listening half heartedly as Vedant runs through his schedule. But Saanvi drifts forward, her eyes catching on the bursts of red roses among the arrangements. She picks up a letter with a bold heart drawn across it.

“I hope you stay healthy and handsome as always, Mr. Singhania. If you need help, you can call me. This is my number…”

She reads under her breath, her lips twist in disbelief. She turns to Rudra. By then Vedant has already excused himself, leaving them alone in the room.

Rudra starts to move closer, but she stops him with a finger pressed firmly to his forehead, the letter held up like evidence. He blinks, looks at it, then back at her. “Where’s my fault in this? I don’t even know who that person is.”

Pulling her finger back, she narrows her eyes. “Somewhere in this mess, I placed a bouquet too. Now tell me which one is mine.”

His gaze flicks to the desk, a mountain of flowers piled high, and his expression turns horrified. “Don’t you think that’s… slightly impossible?”

“No. I don’t care.” Her voice sharpens. “Choose the one I gave you, or I’ll make sure you sleep on that hospital bed again.”

He rubs the back of his neck, lips pressed together as he steps closer to the desk. He studies the bouquets carefully, stalling, until his brow lifts suddenly.

“I know for a fact there isn’t a bouquet from you here.”

“Shut up,” she snaps. “I placed one before you came.”

He shakes his head. “No, you didn’t. If you wanted to give me flowers, you’d never leave them buried on my desk like some anonymous offering. You’d give them to me yourself. That’s who you are. You’re not ordinary, pearl. You don’t need to fight for space with the rest.” His smile is easy, disarming, but behind it he knows exactly what he’s doing. He understands how manipulation works, and he wields it with practiced precision.

Her lips part, then close again. She feels her defense crumble, the certainty of her own action slipping beneath the weight of his words. If she says she really did leave the bouquet, she’ll break the expectation he has voiced so clearly. She doesn’t want to watch that smile falter. She swallows hard, forcing a light laugh. “Yeah. Of course. I was just… testing you. I’d never place it there.”

“I know,” he murmurs.

She leans back against his desk, trying to compose herself, but he cages her in with both hands braced on either side. “Caught the lie, Pearl.”

She blinks at him, confused, until a bouquet of red roses rises suddenly in front of her face.

“Here are your flowers.”

Her eyes widen. “Why do you think this one’s mine?”

“For my Mr. Red,” he says softly. “Those three words are enough to tell me it’s from my Mrs. White.”

Her teeth catch her bottom lip. “You really are a fucking manipulative bastard, Rudra.” She shakes her head slowly, staring at the small note tucked into the bouquet of red roses before looking back at him. “And you still remember?”

“Remember?” He leans close to her ear, “Pearl, you could whisper something once in passing and it would carve itself into me. You think I’d forget the first time my pretty wife claimed me out loud? Impossible.”

Her cheeks flush, warmth spreading across her face. “Will you ever stop flirting?”

“I would have,” he says, pulling back just enough to look her in the eye, his hands sliding around her waist. “But then what kind of man would I be if I didn’t remind my beauty every damn day how divine she is? That would be a crime. So I’m sorry my love, your request has been denied.”

She shakes her head with a small smile. “What a simp.”

He grins. “If simping for you is a crime, Pearl, then cuff me, I’ll happily serve that sentence, and won’t even ask for parole.”

She laughs under her breath, shaking her head, but her hand still rises to cup his cheek. He leans into it instantly, as if it’s the only place he belongs. His fingers lift her chin, coaxing her eyes back to his. The smile fades from both their lips. He closes the distance, pressing his lips to hers. She responds instantly, cupping his face with both hands, kissing him back with quiet urgency.

When they part, their foreheads rest together. She glances at the clock and exhales. “I have to go back to work.” Her eyes meet his. “I don’t want to leave you.”

He tilts his head. “Then don’t. Stay here. Your husband owns this hospital, remember?”

Her laugh slips out. “And let you grow arrogant with power? Absolutely not.”

He lifts his chin with mock gravity. “Fair enough. But we’ll leave together later.”

“Alright,” she says softly. She leans in and presses a kiss to his cheek. He turns his head just enough to return the gesture.

“Bye,” she whispers, giving him one last look before stepping out of the cabin.

--------------

She walks down the hospital hallway toward her cabin, the soft echo of her footsteps filling the quiet space.

“Excuse me.”

She stops and looks up at the man who approaches. He appears to be in his fifties, with a calm, composed demeanor. “Yes?” she asks.

“I want to meet Rudra Singhania, the MD of this hospital. Could you tell me where I might find him?”

“Rudra?” She nods toward the end of the corridor. “Just go straight and turn left. You’ll see his cabin.”

He smiles. “Thank you.”

She inclines her head. “By the way, may I ask who you are?”

“Isharv Prabhakar, Rudra’s psychotherapist,” he replies.

Saanvi blinks, confusion flitting across her face. He turns to leave, but she stops him. “Wait. Psychotherapist? Rudra?”

He pauses, eyebrows lifting in question. “I’m sorry, but you are…?”

She swallows, tilting her chin slightly. “I’m Dr. Saanvi. Rudra’s wife.”

Recognition dawns on his face, and his lips part slightly.

“Can you tell me why Rudra is seeing therapy?” she asks.

“It isn’t ongoing,” He begins. “He sought therapy nine years ago. I’m friends with Abhiraj, and at that time he reached out to me and he told me about Rudra’s breakup—” He trails off, unwilling to make her uncomfortable by discussing her husband’s past.

“You can continue. I know about his past relationship,” she reassures.

He presses his lips together, exhales slowly, and continues. “Abhiraj was concerned because Rudra’s personality shifted almost overnight. He became withdrawn and uncharacteristically quiet. From what I knew of him, Rudra was a lively boy slightly shy, yes, but still expressive and very engaging. The shift was significant enough to suggest he needed professional support. That’s why I began working with him. Unfortunately, he never completed the process. He stopped midway, despite my recommendation that he continue for the sake of his mental health. Shortly after, he left for Italy to pursue his studies. At that point, therapy came to an end.” His expression softens. “Recently I heard about his injury, and since I had work close by, I thought I should take the opportunity to visit. That’s all there is to it.”

She frowns. “Can you tell me what really happened with Rudra? I mean, he would have told you everything about the breakup, right? Was it so bad that he needed therapy, or was there something else?”

Isharv hesitates. “Rudra’s breakup… it wasn’t just bad. It was worse than most people know. His ex… she forced—”

“Mr. Prabhakar.” Vedant appears suddenly, cutting him off. “I believe you’re here to meet Mr. Singhania. I’ll take you to his cabin. I’ll guide you to his cabin.”

Isharv nods glancing at Saanvi before following Vedant.

Vedant pauses briefly. “I’d advise you to stop digging into him. It’s not helping anyone.” He says, and then they disappear down the hallway, leaving her alone.

Saanvi stays rooted in place, watching their figures disappear into the distance. “That doesn’t sound like a normal breakup anymore.”

✿✿✿✿✿

“Maa?”

Adrika turns at the sound of Saanvi’s voice. She’s standing at the doorway, a little hesitant, her fingers brushing against the frame as if unsure whether to step in.

“Come inside,” Adrika says gently, closing the cupboard. She walks to the bed and sits down, patting the space beside her. “Why are you standing there like a stranger?”

Saanvi crosses the room slowly and lowers herself onto the bed. Her eyes stay fixed on her lap. “I’m sorry.”

Adrika exhales. She lifts Saanvi’s chin with her palm, brushing her thumb across her cheek. “Did I slap you too hard?”

Saanvi blinks, and nods once. “It almost reminded me of my mumma.”

That makes Adrika chuckle, and Saanvi can’t help but laugh a little too.

“I’m sorry too,” Adrika murmurs, pressing a kiss to her head. “You’re my daughter, Saanvi. Forgive me if I ever make you feel otherwise.”

Saanvi shakes her head quickly. “No… I probably needed that slap. It got my mind back on track.”

Adrika gives her cheek a light tap again, this time with a smile. “So tell me what should I cook to make you happy?”

Saanvi’s eyes brighten. “Kadhi pakora.”

“Then kadhi pakora it is,” Adrika says, rising to her feet. But before she can move away, Saanvi catches her wrist.

“And a hug too.”

Adrika’s expression softens instantly. She pulls Saanvi into her arms, holding her close. “My baby,” she whispers, her hand stroking the back of Saanvi’s hair.

Saanvi closes her eyes and smiles into the embrace, clinging to her tightly, as if the hug itself was the comfort she had been craving all along.

-----------------

At dinner, Rudra sets his spoon down with a clatter. “You know I don’t like kadhi pakora, right? Then why do you keep making it?” His tone carries that familiar edge of irritation.

Adrika looks at him with mild boredom. “Because it’s your wife’s favorite. She wanted it, so I cooked it.”

Rudra glances to his side. Saanvi is seated next to him, raising a brow as if daring him to argue further. His lips part, then he clears his throat quickly. “I… I love kadhi pakora,” he says, forcing a smile. “You could’ve told me you liked it earlier. I would’ve made it my favorite before now.”

Saanvi chuckles, giving his arm a light smack. “It’s really tasty, Maa. Thank you for making it.” She pops another bite into her mouth before adding with a sly smile, “I could handle a few more slaps from you if it means I get this again.”

Rudra’s head snaps toward her, frowning. “Slaps? What do you mean?”

Adrika, still eating, answers. “I slapped her while you were in the hospital.”

Rudra freezes. His eyes widen as he turns back to Saanvi, who is completely unfazed, focused on her food. Without a word, he cups both her cheeks, squishing her lips into a pout as he tilts her face toward him.

She blinks at him, confused. “What are you doing?” she mumbles against his hands.

“Checking. Is it still hurting?” He strokes her right cheek carefully.

“It was the left cheek,” she corrects.

“Oh.” He quickly shifts his hand to the left side, rubbing it gently. “This one, then? Still hurting?”

Saanvi sighs, pushing his hands away with a small smile. “Rudra, use your brain. How could it still hurt after a whole month?”

He presses his lips together, not looking convinced, then turns sharply toward his mother. “Mom, you can’t just slap her like that. Don’t ever do it again. Do you even know how delicate her skin is? It turns red from the slightest touch, sometimes even from a pillowcase rubbing the wrong way and you left your whole handprint on her face.”

Saanvi lowers her eyes, shyly. She touches her face with the back of her fingers, almost testing the softness he just praised, she seems far too absorbed in the thought of her so-called delicate skin to even argue with him.

Adrika wrinkles her nose at both of them, unimpressed by the display then sighs. “I suddenly miss my husband,” she mutters under her breath.

“And—” Rudra starts again, but Saanvi cuts him off.

“Rudra, relax. I don’t mind. She’s my mother too now. She’s allowed.”

Rudra stares at her, then at Adrika. Adrika, calm as ever, lifts her spoon and simply says, “It’s better if you don’t meddle in what’s between me and her.”

Before Rudra can argue, Saanvi redirects smoothly, “Maa, I’m a little stuck on a jewelry design. Can you help me with it?”

Adrika smiles. “Of course. I’d be glad to.”

“I can help too,” Rudra offers quickly, eager not to be left out.

Saanvi glances at him, hesitating before giving a tight lipped smile. “Ah… Rudra, actually you can’t, not this time. Maa has the eye for it. She’s been in that business for years, so her taste is sharper. I hope you understand.”

The smile falls from his face. Adrika snorts, trying to hide her laugh.

Saanvi instantly panics. “No! “That’s not what I meant, I’m not saying you have bad taste.”

But Rudra is already sulking, head bent as he quietly nods and goes back to his food and continues eating.

---------------

Saanvi closes the bedroom door and moves to the bed where Rudra waits, phone forgotten the moment she appears. “So finally you’re back,” he says, tucking the device aside. She nods and slides close, folding one arm across his waist.

Rudra returns the favor and reaches for the tray on the bedside table, setting it within her reach. “Your medicines.”

She sighs, swallows the tablets with a glass of water, and looks at him as if to speak, but he cuts her off gently. “Pearl,” he says, “you made me take mine. How many times will you ask?”

She presses her lips together. “Oh. I did.”

He returns the tray and pats the bed. “Let’s sleep.” They pull the comforter up and fit together under the same small warmth. He threads his fingers with hers and rests his forehead against her knuckles. “About my mom,” he murmurs, “she should not have done that to you.”

Saanvi lifts her head. “You remember she slapped you when you hurt me.”

He nods. “I deserved it. I needed it. Mom tells me when I cross a line.” His voice softens as he registers her meaning.

She smiles and kisses the back of his hand. “Exactly, Rudra. I needed a reminder too. I was too harsh on you, and I deserved that. Besides, your mother belongs to me now as much as she belongs to you. She can do what she must, because she loves me as her own.”

Rudra brushes his nose against hers, a small, affectionate gesture that makes her chest soften. “You love my mother a lot, don’t you?”

“A lot,” she murmurs, eyes on his. The word comes out warm and commonplace, but something in her face tightens as she lifts her head. “Rudra?”

He looks at her. “Hmm?”

She takes a long breath. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything, my love.”

“How did you find out Anvika cheated on you?” The question lands between them cleanly, without theatrics.

His smile drops. The room shifts a shadow passes over him and he loses the softness that belonged to ordinary moments. “It was our anniversary,” he says plainly. “I went to her apartment. She arrived with Mahir. I saw them together.”

She watches him, quiet, cataloguing the small changes that the name still unspools in him. She presses her lips together, thinking through the next words like a clinician weighing symptoms. “Did anything else happen in that relationship that left a mark?” she asks, careful not to pry but not willing to ignore the residue either.

“Pearl.” He stops her. “I love you, only you. I never felt so sure about anything as I do about loving you. She does not live in my heart or my brain. She remains a closed chapter. Do not let her shadow take room between us. I promise you, until my last breath, it will be you.”

Her thumb slides along his jaw, then grazes his lower lip in a movement that claims him both tenderly and with fierce intent. “I know I live in your heart, Rudra. But your head keeps her alive, your PTSD is the proof.”

She names it plainly, the clinician and the wife in one voice. “Listen to me, Rudra,” Her grip tightens almost painfully. “Your memories do not get to shelter anyone other than me. Your fears, your flashes, your nights, those belong to us to fix, not to any woman who walked out of your life.” She presses closer, “I operate and study brains for living. I understand the wiring, the loops that trap pain. I will find those loops. I will trace it to its root, and pull it out if I have to gently, clinically, or piece by piece until there is nothing left of her in you. This mind is my territory, Rudra. My husband does not host specters.”

His hand slides to the nape of her neck and draws her in until their lips meet. “You sound dangerous with that tone,” he says against her lips.

She wants to pry further, to pull the secret from whatever corner he holds it in, but she stops herself. She reads the quiet in him he will not open this now, not without choosing to. She will not risk the thread between them for a confession offered at the wrong hour. Instead, a smile curves on her lips. “Dangerous? That’s what you always claimed to despise in women, isn’t it?”

His lips curl in a half-smirk. “Then I met Dr. Saanvi and the whole plot changed.” He seals the line by catching her bottom lip between his teeth and she curls her fingers around his neck, pulling him deeper into the kiss until the rest of the room recedes.

When they part she keeps her hands at the base of his skull and looks at him, breath soft against his skin. “I am getting obsessed with you, Rudra.”

He lifts one brow. “Should I be worried?”

She doesn’t reply right away. Instead she lets her eyes roam his face, the sharp line of his jaw, the lips she can still taste, the eyes that see too much. It all feeds the storm inside her, something she can’t pretend to tame. “Maybe you should.” Her thumb brushes along his cheekbone. “Because when I say obsessed, I mean there’s no way out for either of us.”

✿✿✿✿✿

“Are you both out of your damn mind? You want me to die or what?” Abhiraj yells, pacing in front of the couch where Rudra and Saanvi sit. His hands clench at his sides, eyes sharp and furious as he glares at them.

“Come on, only you can do it,” Saanvi says, leaning back slightly.

“Dad, come on. Be a man,” Rudra adds, shrugging. “You’re really scared of her? She’s your own wife. Stop being a scaredy cat.”

Abhiraj raises an eyebrow, clicks his tongue, and turns to Saanvi. “Your husband says you sometimes look like the cartoon you watch.”

Rudra’s eyes go wide, and he immediately scoots away on the couch, keeping as much distance between them as possible. “No! He’s lying!” he blurts. “Dad! She will kill me. Why are you lying?”

Saanvi glares at him. “You—how dare you—”

“And the nerve to call me a scaredy cat,” Abhiraj interrupts, looking at Rudra with disbelief.

Rudra sighs, sliding a little closer to Saanvi, hands raised in surrender. “See, he’s just trying to make a point. I didn’t say you were a cartoon,” he says softly, leaning in to press a quick kiss to her cheek. “You’re actually… really beautiful.”

Her frown softens, and a shy smile creeps onto her lips as she lowers her gaze.

Abhiraj pinches the bridge of his nose, his expression a mix of disbelief and exasperation. “What the hell?” he mutters, watching them straighten instantly, pretending to be serious adults.

“Okay, back to the topic,” Saanvi says, standing and stepping toward him. Rudra stands too and follows immediately, staying close behind her.

“Og, please,” she says, giving him a small, coaxing look. “Talk to her you’re the only one who can make her understand.”

Abhiraj exhales, rubbing his face wearily. “You’re not understanding. How am I supposed to explain to her that you both want to move back to the residence?”

“From your mouth, Dad,” Rudra shrugs, earning a simultaneous glare from Saanvi and Abhiraj. “O… okay. I’ll stay silent,” he mutters, realizing this might be the smartest move for now.

“What are you all doing?”

Everyone freezes and turns toward the gate, where Adrika walks in, Vedant following quietly behind her.

“Finally, you’re back,” she says, smiling at Abhiraj and pulling him into a warm hug. He returns it, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“Vedant is such a sweetheart. He helped me a lot,” Adrika continues, turning to him with an approving smile. Vedant gives a small, polite smile in return. “Rudra, you better increase his payment.”

Rudra raises an eyebrow. “Just because he helped you? Maybe I’ll think about it… after he finishes his actual work.” Vedant stares at him blankly, clearly unimpressed.

“Rudra,” Adrika warns, patting Vedant’s arm gently, “don’t worry. I’ll see to it.”

“Maa,” Saanvi calls softly. “Og wants to say something to you.”

Abhiraj stiffens, his eyes widening as they dart between Saanvi and Adrika. “No, I—”

“What is it, Abhi?” Adrika asks calmly.

Saanvi swallows and shifts slightly, curling her foot behind Rudra’s as she peeks from his side. Rudra glances at his mother and father and instinctively steps a little behind Abhiraj, trying to gauge how much trouble they are in.

Abhiraj gulps and forces a smile. “I was saying…” he begins, clearing his throat. “Saanvi and Rudra should… probably go back to the residence.”

He glances to where they were supposed to be, only to find them ducking behind him. His jaw drops in disbelief at their audacious hiding.

Rudra swallows and mutters under his breath, “We’re all going to die.” Saanvi buries her face on his shoulder.

“What did you say?” Adrika’s voice snaps.

Abhiraj straightens, clearly regretting opening his mouth, while Adrika’s glare promises that the next few minutes are going to be interesting, to say the least. He opens his mouth again. “I mean—”

“Don’t even start!” she snaps, pointing a finger like a general. “Are you out of your mind? You want them to move back to the residence?”

“There will be security,” Abhiraj protests, waving his hands.

“Security?” Adrika scoffs, throwing her hands up. “Do you think a couple of grown adults who can’t even eat breakfast without almost injuring themselves are going to magically behave because there’s a guard at the gate? After the marriage, they move into the penthouse, and then what? Saanvi ends up in the hospital. Then they move to the residence, and surprise! Rudra ends up in the hospital. And now you want to give me a front row seat to both of them getting admitted at the same time?” She flings her hands pacing a step forward. “Even a five year old has more sense than these two. Leave them alone for five minutes, and I guarantee it’ll be a disaster.”

Rudra shuffles behind Saanvi, both of them trying to shrink into the background.

Abhiraj sighs, rubbing his forehead, and steps closer. “Calm down, Adrika. Take a breath,” he says softly, trying to anchor her fury. She inhales deeply, visibly forcing herself to slow down. “Let’s talk privately,” Abhiraj adds, tugging her gently toward the room, still holding her hand.

----------------

Vedant, Saanvi, and Rudra watch as Adrika and Abhiraj finally step out of the room. They stop in front of them. Adrika takes a deep breath. “Okay. You can move back there, but I swear, one wrong step, and I’ll make sure you end up in the hospital before anyone else.”

Rudra and Saanvi exchange a brief, quiet smile and nod toward her. Saanvi steps forward and hugs her tightly.

“You should thank me, you stupid nurse,” Abhiraj mutters, rolling his eyes.

Saanvi smirks at him. “I think you should probably thank me too for that, Og,” she says, pointing at his mouth. His frown falters as he wipes his fingers and sees lipstick stain. His eyes widen. Adrika presses her lips together, embarrassed, glancing away.

“So that’s how you convinced Maa,” Saanvi teases lightly.

“Shut up!” Abhiraj snaps. Saanvi laughs, and Rudra chuckles along. Abhiraj raises a brow and walks to Rudra.

“How are you feeling?” Abhiraj asks.

“I’m fine,” Rudra says, shrugging.

“And your wounds? Your head injury?”

“Mostly healed—” Rudra begins, and then feels the sting as Abhiraj’s hand connects with his jaw. He stumbles back, more shocked than hurt. “Dad! What was that for?” he blurts, fingers going to his face.

Rudra doesn’t finish before Abhiraj’s fist strikes his jaw. He stumbles back, clutching his face, staring at his father in disbelief. “Dad! What was that for?!”

Saanvi’s eyes widen. She glances at Adrika, who watches silently. “Maa…” she murmurs.

“He deserves it,” Adrika mutters.

“I couldn’t hit you when you lay in a coma. Now that you’re awake, you need to face the consequences of your actions.” His gaze pins Rudra with the weight of a man who watched his son go to the edge and come back.

Rudra straighten as he rubs the spot where the blow landed. “I know,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

“You do not get to hide behind sorry,” Abhiraj answers. “Sorry does not fix a hospital bed, Rudra. It does not fix the panic in a father’s chest when his son ends up on life support. If there is a problem, you tell us. If the problem feels too big to say out loud, you sit us down and we find help together. You do not walk yourself to the edge alone.” Abhiraj says, his voice trembling slightly, a mixture of anger and fear. “Do you understand what that did to me, Rudra? To your mother?”

Adrika adds. “We give you space because, there are some things you need to sort out yourself, but you… you tried to take your own life? And this isn’t the first time. You could have told us instead of taking such a step, Rudra. Risking your life is not strength. It is a wound you leave on everyone who cares for you.”

Saanvi keeps still, watching them. Rudra looks down at his shoes and exhales slowly. “I understand,”

Abhiraj meets his eyes. “Then start showing it. Talk. Let people in. If therapy helps, you go. If you need time, say so. But do not shut us out again.” He pauses, letting the instruction sit like a rule. “We are not just going to stand by and watch you vanish into whatever it is that takes you away. We will hold you to this, Rudra.”

“This goes for you too,” Adrika adds suddenly, her gaze sliding toward Saanvi.

Saanvi blinks, caught off guard, as everyone else turns to her.

“Yes, both of you,” Abhiraj continues. “You’re going back now, and the least you could do is act like adults.”

Saanvi and Rudra exchange a look and give a small nod.

“I get it. I promise, I won’t make the same mistake again,” Rudra says. “But…”

Abhiraj arches a brow. “But?”

“Could you maybe stop punching me in front of an audience?” He tilts his chin, then sneaks a glance at Saanvi, clearly embarrassed. “I have some reputation to maintain.”

“Reputation? You have one, Mr. Singhania?” Vedant cuts in with his perfectly straight face.

Saanvi bites down on her lip, trying not to laugh, and half hides behind Adrika. Adrika lowers her head to smother her own chuckle, giving Saanvi’s arm a playful slap.

Rudra grits his teeth and turns on Vedant, ready to swing, but Abhiraj steps in, catching his arm. “Rudra. Enough.”

“You know what? I’m docking his salary,” Rudra mutters, glaring at Vedant.

“No, you’re not. Stop throwing tantrums.” Abhiraj retorts.

Rudra scoffs, shoots Vedant a final glare, and storms off.

“I love your comebacks, Vedant,” Adrika laughs.

Vedant’s lips twitch into the barest hint of a smile. “I aim to please, ma’am.”

“I’ll go check on Rudra,” Saanvi says.

“Go on, then. Soothe your sulking husband,” Abhiraj says dryly, making Adrika laugh harder.

Adrika laughs harder at that, and Saanvi rolls her eyes, walking out before they can make another comment.

✿✿✿✿✿

Kabir storms into the hallway and throws himself at Rudra with the kind of overdone flair only he can manage. “Ah! My Rudra!” he shouts, wrapping both arms around him like a long lost lover.

Rudra grunts and tries to shove him off. “Kabir, move the fuck away!” He struggles, but Kabir only tightens his hold, grinning.

From the staircase, Saanvi pauses mid-step. She spots Avyaan and Abhimaan watching Kabir crush Rudra with an expression that borders on boredom. Her frown deepens as she heads down, each step sharper than the last.

“What the hell are you doing?” she snaps when she reaches them. “Are you harassing my husband?”

Kabir finally pulls back, blinking at her.

“Dur raho usse,”(stay away from him) she says.

Kabir instantly gasps, clutching his imaginary pearls, wrist bent delicately as he bats his lashes like some over the top socialite. “Dwur rwaho uwsse,” he mocks her dragging the words with an exaggerated accent swaying his head side to side with mock grace. Then he fans himself dramatically, like he might faint.

Heat rushes to Saanvi’s cheeks. She smacks his arm. “You absolute idiot!”

“Ow,” he deadpans, rubbing the spot before smirking. “You do know if I flick you with one finger, you’ll topple backwards. Fir bhi bhidhna hai mujhse?”

She blinks, thrown by the word. “Bhidhna?”

He stares at her like she’s hopeless. “Arre, bhidhna. You don’t know? Means to clash. To lock horns.”

Understanding dawns and she gives a small nod. “Oh.”

Just then Adrika’s voice came from her room. “Saanvi?”

“Yes, Maa. Coming!” she calls quickly, throwing one last glare at Kabir before walking away.

Rudra leads them into the study room. Once they enter inside Abhimaan suddenly steps in front of Rudra, pointing at the red bruise on his cheek. “Who did this?”

Rudra exhales, already tired of the question. “Dad.”

“Well, you deserved it,” Abhimaan says, and before Rudra can react, he delivers a light punch to the other cheek. Rudra glares and rubs it slowly. “Don’t you dare do that again.” Abhimaan adds.

Rudra looks at Abhimaan, then at Kabir and Avyaan, all three locking eyes in a silent, serious acknowledgment. He gives a small nod.

Abhimaan finally exhales and lets his attention drift to Avyaan. A smirk tugs at his mouth. “Avyaan,” he says, drawing his gaze. “You once promised you’d hug Rudra when he woke up, tell him how much you care. Well, here he is, alive and standing.”

Avyaan’s face tightens, but he keeps it neutral. Rudra lifts a brow. “Really, unexpressio? You wanted to hug me?” He steps closer deliberately, enjoying the discomfort.

“Don’t you dare,” Avyaan says flatly.

That only makes Rudra grin wider. He stops right in front of him and pulls him into a hug. Avyaan’s eyes shut, irritation written across his features as he tries to push him off. “Move back, bastard.” Rudra chuckles softly, the sound brushing against Avyaan’s ear. Avyaan exhales with a reluctant sigh, giving in just enough to wrap a hesitant arm around him. “Never do that again,” he mutters low.

Rudra hums as if to agree, but neither of them moves until a sharp click of the tongue cuts through the moment. Kabir stands there, arms crossed, shaking his head in offense. “So you’re fine hugging the unexpressio, but me? I see how it is.”

Rudra throws Abhimaan a look, who only shakes his head at Kabir’s antics. “Why are you such a drama queen?” Rudra scoffs, then breaks into a reluctant chuckle. With a resigned gesture, he opens his arms. Kabir’s annoyance melts quickly, replaced by a grin as he steps forward and pulls Rudra into a hug. Rudra pats his back.

They break the hug, the room falling into a brief, uneasy silence before Kabir leans back on the couch and asks, “So, how’s everything going?”

Rudra exhales, letting his shoulders loosen just slightly. “Perfect,” his eyes flicks toward the window. “It’s just… Saanvi almost found out about Mr. Prabhakar yesterday. Vedant told me.”

Kabir blinks, taken aback. “Did she… find out everything?”

Rudra shakes his head. “No.”

Abhimaan leans forward, resting an elbow on his knee. “You should tell her everything, Rudra. You said yourself everything’s fine now. Don’t hide things.”

Rudra frowns. “Do you even realize what you’re asking? You want me to tell her how I was drunk…and how I was forced into—” He swallows, the words catching in his throat. “She doesn’t deserve that. I don’t want her to carry that image of me.”

Kabir reaches out, a hand pressing briefly against his back. “We’ve always told you it wasn’t your fault. You are the victim, Rudra.”

Rudra shakes his head, frustration and fear threading through his chest. “It doesn’t matter, Kabir. I trust her. I trust her a lot. I love her more than anything. But if she knows… what happened… she might never look at me the same way again. And if she can’t… if she leaves… I can’t risk that. I can’t trust myself to let it out yet. I can only hide it. I have to.”

Outside the study, Saanvi walks toward the room carrying a tray of coffee, ready to step inside, but she stops near the wall when she hears Rudra’s voice. Her brow furrows in confusion, curiosity and concern rooting her to the spot.

“...it doesn’t matter, Kabir. I trust her. I trust her a lot. I love her more than anything. But if she knows… what happened… she might never look at me the same way again. And if she can’t… if she leaves… I can’t risk that. I can’t trust myself to let it out yet. I can only hide it. I have to.”

Saanvi’s brow furrows, confusion and concern mixing into a sharp pang in her chest. She takes a step back, letting the tray balance in her hands as she listens.

Rudra exhales, dragging a hand over his face. “I think… you should trust her this time,” Avyaan says and Rudra looks up, startled. Kabir and Abhimaan glance at each other.

“Are you scared?” Abhimaan adds.

Rudra looks down at his lap, silence stretching between the three men. His hands tighten into fists, nails digging into his palms. “I… I told her part of my past once,” he hesitates, the memory of that night, how he had trusted her words, how they had been twisted against him, press on his chest. “She’s human. I know that. She doesn’t deserve the blame, but… what if she uses it against me in the future? Not maliciously, but… what if she misunderstands, or someone else twists it later? What if it hurts us? What if she leaves me when she fully understands how… complicated I am? Because no woman with a sane mind would stay with a man who is… tainted.”

“Rudra…” Abhimaan calls softly. “you can’t decide for her. She deserves to know, doesn’t she? You’re burying this because it scares you, not because it protects her.”

Rudra shakes his head, running a hand through his hair. “I know… I know,” he murmurs and his throat closes up, and he swallows hard. “I’m being selfish again. But… Abhimaan… I love her. I can’t… I can’t live without her.”

Abhimaan watches him closely, reading the raw edges beneath the words the fear, the desperate need hidden under the surface of Rudra’s selfishness. Rudra’s confession isn’t just about love, it’s about the terror of losing someone who has become his world, the vulnerability he rarely allows himself to show, and the quiet panic that he might destroy it all with his own doubts.

“We’re happy now. There’s no conflict, no misunderstanding, no one prying into our lives. Why would I bring something so heavy, so ugly, into this something that could ruin everything? Some things… some things are better left buried.” He swallows.

Avyaan sighs shaking his head. “You have fear, Rudra. And it’s normal. But fear doesn’t get to control trust. You’re holding her at arm’s length from a part of you she has the right to know. That’s not protection. That’s a doubt disguised as caution.”

Rudra lifts his gaze briefly. “It’s not doubt in her. I trust her with everything her loyalty, her love. But me? Me… I don’t trust her with what’s tainted inside me. At this point even if she says she loves me, I can’t believe it fully.”

Avyaan's eyes snaps at Rudra, his lips part to say something but he stops himself.

Kabir, leaning against the desk, exhales slowly. “Carrying it alone is a different kind of poison, Rudra. It eats at you, and eventually it will spill out. If you care about her, if you love her, she deserves the choice to stay or go with the truth, not just survive the version of you you’re willing to show her.”

Avyaan tilts his head. “And the scars? How will you hide those forever?”

Rudra presses his palms against his chest, tracing the faint ridges beneath his shirt He feels the weight of them, the constant reminder of what happened, the proof that he was violated, the shame and anger wrapped up in his own body.

“Rudra, calm down.” Abhimaan says softly, trying to reach him, but Rudra’s shoulders tense, and he shakes his head slightly.

His throat tightens and eyes blur with tears, a hot sting behind them, and his chest feels tight with a weight he cannot shake. Fear coils in him, suffocating and sharp, the fear of Saanvi knowing what happened that night, of seeing those scars, of witnessing the depth of his past, the parts he’s kept hidden. And the worst, unspoken fear, what if she sees all of it and leaves? What if all he’s built, all he’s hoped for, collapses because she cannot reconcile him with what he has endured?

He exhales shakily, trying to steady himself, but the thought of losing her even in the possibility makes his body tremble. The fear is raw, visceral, and relentless.

Outside the room, Saanvi freezes. She doesn’t understand everything, the details elude her, but her chest aches with the realization that he fears she would leave if he ever told her the truth. Her heart twists as she realizes it’s the aftermath of her own words, her mind flashes to all the harsh words she had made about his past, and guilt coils in her stomach. “This… this is serious.” she murmurs. “I have to find out. I need to understand him… really.”

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