⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟎𝟒˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆
Vidyut was fast asleep when he felt something soft... ticklish.
His brows knit faintly, and slowly, he opened his eyes-only to find a tiny frame curled up against his chest.
Her tiny hands were clutching his t-shirt, her delicate body tucked close, as if seeking safety in her sleep. Her soft, warm breath fell rhythmically against his chest, her little presence unexpectedly calming.
For a moment, Vidyut just stared.
She was so... small. So fragile. Her entire body fit against his chest like a feather. Something unfamiliar flickered inside him. A tightening in the chest he didn't know how to name-and didn't want to acknowledge.
His eyes wandered toward the couch.
Vidyut exhaled.
Without a word, he gently pulled the blanket over Tara again-she had kicked it off in her sleep. His hand hovered above her for a second... hesitant, unsure. Then, careful not to wake her or cross a line, he slowly wrapped one arm around her tiny form.
Not possessive. Not claiming.
Just... protective.
He didn't touch her more than necessary. Didn't hold her tight. He only lay there-guarding a child that had unknowingly broken into the fortress he'd built around his heart.
And without realizing it...
He drifted back into sleep.
?? ?
Ritvika lay on the couch, her back facing the bed-but sleep was far, far away.
How could it come?
It never did.
Insomnia.
A cruel shadow that had followed her for years now. Even on better nights, sleep never visited her for more than an hour.
And tonight... was anything but better.
She had checked on Tara at least ten times in the past two hours. Covering her properly. Making sure she wasn't cold. That she was breathing fine. That no nightmare disturbed her sleep.
Her child. Her only reason to breathe.
Every time Ritvika looked at her, tucked safely on a bed she herself had no right to, her heart clenched. She wanted to be there. To hold her close. To sleep with her-just one peaceful night. But she couldn't.
She couldn't risk Tara being uncomfortable. The couch was too small for both of them.
And truth be told...
She was scared.
Her thoughts were loud in the silence.
Each one clawing at her.
She bit her lip, her hands fisting the blanket. A single tear escaped the corner of her eye and soaked silently into the pillow.
The room was dark and cold, yet her heart burned with fear, exhaustion, and helplessness.
And still... sleep didn't come.
?? ?
It was around 5 in the morning when a soft knock echoed through the stillness of the room. So faint... almost as if someone didn't want to wake anyone up.
Ritvika, who had been sitting on the couch with her knees pulled close to her chest, stirred. Her eyes were wide open-sleep had never arrived. She stood up slowly, her joints slightly stiff from the awkward position she'd been in all night.
She walked to the door quietly, careful not to wake Tara or Vidyut.
As she opened the door, she found no one standing outside.
Only the quiet.
And a suitcase placed near the door.
Downstairs, she caught a glimpse of a servant walking away silently. The house was still asleep.
She understood immediately.
It was her backpack.
She bent down and picked it up gently, pulling it inside and closing the door behind her without a sound.
Placing the suitcase on the floor, she unzipped it.
Inside were her belongings-some old kurtis, a few sarees, and her minimal personal items packed hastily by someone from the Kapoor house.
A hollow breath escaped her lips. These were the only things she had to call her own now.
Her hands hovered for a moment, then picked out a soft pastel saree. It was simple, but clean and comfortable.
Clutching it tightly to her chest, she walked into the washroom-each step slow and quiet.
She didn't want to wake them.
Especially him.
Today was a new day.
And she had no idea what it held for her.
But she knew one thing.
She had to survive it. For Tara.
Ritvika's day always began at 5, whether it was the sweltering heat of summer or the biting cold of winter.
Not by choice.
This habit was never hers to keep.
It was imposed-a discipline drilled into her long ago. A routine shaped not by will, but by circumstance.
By expectations.
By fear.
By survival.
She stood in front of the mirror now, wrapped in a light pastel saree that clung gently to her delicate frame. The soft cotton folds whispered around her as if they, too, were tired of the weight she carried.
Despite everything... she looked beautiful.
Not the loud, obvious kind of beautiful-but the silent, graceful kind. The kind that didn't scream to be noticed, yet always carried pain in its silence.
Her hand reached out automatically, fingers finding the small lipstick in the corner of the makeup pouch. A faded pink shade. One she had worn often during her college days.
She opened it.
Just a little.
Her hand froze midair.
Her reflection blurred for a moment.
Their voices echoed.
"Shaadi ho gayi hai ab... kisko dikhane ke liye itna saajna hai?"
(You're married now... who are you trying to look good for?)
"Vidhwa hai tu. Thodi toh sharam kar."
(You're a widow. Show some shame.)
Her fingers trembled as she slowly closed the cap again. Her gaze dropped to the floor.
The small, harmless lipstick turned heavier than stone in her palm. A reminder of everything she was told not to be.
Beautiful.
Bold.
Alive.
With a soft sigh, Ritvika capped the lipstick and slid it back into the pouch.
In its place, she picked up a small, transparent lip balm and gently applied it on her lips. Her lips didn't need much-naturally baby pink, untouched by harsh weather or chemical gloss. The balm only enhanced their softness, their innocence.
Then, with quiet hands, she picked up her nuptial chain from the vanity and tied it around her neck, its weight unfamiliar and heavy against her skin.
A symbol she never asked for. Yet she wore it. Because life had never given her choices-only decisions made for her.
With a deep breath, she picked up the tiny container of vermillion, her fingers trembling just a little. As she applied the sindoor on her parting, a sharp ache bloomed in her chest-a scream her soul had swallowed so many times.
She stood up.
?? ?
It was 6 AM.
Moving gently toward the bed, her eyes fell on the sight that froze her for a moment.
Tara-still curled up in a peaceful bundle of sleep.
But what caught Ritvika's eyes wasn't her daughter.
It was the careful fortress of pillows around her. One at the back. One near the legs. Two on either side.
Not a single corner was left open.
Not a single chance to fall.
Her eyes slowly shifted toward the tall figure on the other side of the bed.
Vidyut.
Awake now, sitting up.
Their eyes met for a fleeting second-hers filled with hesitation, his unreadable as always.
Without a word, he got up and walked towards the washroom, shutting the door behind him.
Cold. Distant. Rigid.
But...
The pillows said something else.
?? ?
Ritvika sat cross-legged on the couch, gently brushing her fingers through Tara's hair, trying to fix the soft strands that refused to stay in place. From the small bag that was packed for them, she had found just two sets of clothes for Tara. Nothing more.
Two.
That's all her family had thought her daughter deserved.
With a faint smile, she slipped Tara into the cuter frock of the two-a soft lavender one with tiny embroidered flowers. Her chubby arms poked out adorably as Ritvika adjusted the neckline and then tied her hair into two tiny ponytails, parting it with gentle care.
Tara beamed.
Ritvika couldn't help but smile back, though the smile didn't reach her eyes.
They sat together on the couch, a little island of comfort in the middle of an unfamiliar ocean. Tara was curled up beside her, her eyes wide and sparkling as she watched a cartoon playing softly on Ritvika's phone. Her laughter occasionally rang through the room, but Ritvika didn't join in.
Her eyes flicked to the door. Then the time.
8 AM.
She hadn't moved an inch towards the stairs. Not even a glance outside.
Not because she didn't want to.
But because...
She was scared.
Scared to face a family that had unknowingly married their son to a widow. A mother. A replacement.
She remembered the way her own family had treated her and Tara.
How they were never allowed to sit at the dining table.
How they were never permitted to join in any conversation.
How Tara was often asked to remain silent, invisible, locked inside the four walls of their tiny room.
Every step outside that room felt like a sin.
So now, even though she was in a new house, with new people, a new last name tied unwillingly to her identity-the fear still clung.
What if they were just like her family?
What if the luxuries were temporary?
What if this room too would soon become her only prison?
Her eyes moved toward Tara again. Tara... who didn't know fear yet. Who giggled at animated dogs and danced to cartoon songs.
And that's why Ritvika kept holding back.
They both were lost in their little world.
A mother and her child.
Laughter softly echoing, the glowing screen between them.
For a moment, it almost felt like peace.
But peace doesn't last long in the Rajvansh mansion.
And certainly not in Vidyut Rajvansh's presence.
Because standing at the door, arms crossed, gaze sharp and unreadable-he was watching.
Watching them. Judging them. Boiling silently.
And then...
"Should we have to give you an appointment to come downstairs?"
His voice sliced through the calm like a blade dipped in ice-hoarse, rude, and merciless.
Ritvika froze, her smile vanishing in a second.
Tara's tiny head whipped toward him, the bright cartoon on the screen forgotten. Her little smile faltered as the sound of his anger filled the room.
Ritvika quickly stood up, panic surging inside her, and gently placed Tara down on her feet.
"Voh... I... I..." she tried to speak, her voice trembling, eyes lowered.
But Vidyut didn't let her finish.
"I don't have a fucking hour for your 'I...I...I...' So keep your damn mouth shut!"
He roared again, his voice louder, colder-vibrating against the walls.
Tara whimpered.
The sound so small, so broken.
She flinched and clutched Ritvika's leg tightly, hiding her face in her mother's saree folds, her tiny body trembling.
Ritvika instinctively bent down and wrapped Tara in her arms, trying to shield her, her own breath shaking, her hands sweaty.
Tara, who had hidden herself in her mumma's arms, suddenly began to wriggle and struggle.
Ritvika panicked for a second, thinking she was scared, but instead-
Tara wanted to go down.
With trembling hands, Ritvika gently placed her on the ground.
And then... with her little feet tapping softly against the floor, Tara walked-straight towards Vidyut.
Vidyut, still fuming, didn't expect that.
Didn't move.
Didn't even blink.
But Tara?
She grabbed his pant leg in her tiny fists.
Raised her round face up to him, her big teary eyes shining.
"No..." she said, voice soft and broken, fumbling her words,
"No shout mumma... Mumma no shout..."
(Don't shout)
And then she turned.
Waddled back to Ritvika with unsteady steps.
Wrapped her little arms around Ritvika's legs and looked up at her with a smile.
"Mumma, he no shout now."
(Mumma he will not shout now)
That innocence.
That purity.
Ritvika didn't know whether to cry or smile. She just ran her fingers gently through Tara's hair, hugging her closer.
But Vidyut?
He stood frozen.
His brows furrowed.
His throat dry.
His chest tight.
What the hell just happened?
He wasn't sure what confused him more-Tara's words, her innocence,
or the strange discomfort rising in his chest.
Because for a moment, just a moment...
That tiny voice had shut him up in a way no one else ever could.
Coming out of his thoughts, Vidyut's eyes dropped from Tara's innocent face to Ritvika's startled one.
His jaw tightened, as if he didn't want to say anything further.
But then-
He exhaled, short and sharp.
Just... plain. Almost blank.
Ritvika blinked in confusion, uncertain whether it was a command or a request.
Still, she nodded quietly and picked Tara up in her arms.
Vidyut turned without waiting, walking toward the stairs-his steps still sharp, still firm, but something in his posture had shifted.
Ritvika stepped into the living room quietly, her saree pallu neatly pleated, Tara tucked in her arms.
The aroma of fresh parathas, toasted bread, and brewing tea wafted in the air, and the sound of light morning chatter filled the luxurious Rajvansh dining area.
The entire family was seated at the grand dining table-Manisha, Parul, Lakshay,gaurav, Aarush, and Hridhaan were there, each engrossed in breakfast and occasional teasing.
Ritvika halted just at the edge of the room, not crossing the invisible line her fear had drawn in her mind.
She wasn't sure if she was even allowed here.
Her arms clutched Tara tighter.
Just then-
"Ritvika, beta-tum wahan kyun khadi ho? Aao na... breakfast karo." (Ritvika, beta-why are you standing there? Come on... have breakfast)
It was Manisha, her voice warm, welcoming, and kind.
Ritvika froze.
Her grip on Tara tightened instinctively.
"V-voh... muumy.. main bas... aise hi..." she fumbled, unsure if stepping in was a mistake.
But Manisha had already stood up with a soft, coaxing smile.
"Don't be silly. You're my bahu, not a guest. Come sit."
Ritvika hesitated a moment longer, then slowly stepped inside.
But before she could walk towards the table, she gently set Tara down on her feet beside her.
She didn't want her daughter to be rejected here. Not again.
But before the fear could settle in-
"Areeee little angel aa gayi!" (Here comes our little angel!)
It was Aarush, his face lighting up as he spotted Tara.
He immediately walked over and crouched down in front of her.
"Tara madam, aap humare sath breakfast karegi?" he asked playfully. (Tara Madam, will you have breakfast with us?)
Tara blinked up at him, then gave a shy nod.
Before she could react further, Hridhaan joined them with a chuckle,
"No no mam mere saath breakfast karengi."
He gently picked Tara up and tossed her in the air softly, making her giggle uncontrollably.
"Aaj se tumhari naam hai... umm yes choco pie!" Hridhaan declared.
Tara blinked, and then slowly mumbled "choo..cholate"
"Na na, sugar pie!" Aarush countered.
The whole room filled with laughter.
Tara clapped her hands joyfully, surrounded by two new uncles who seemed nothing like the monsters she had feared in silence.
And Ritvika...
She stood stunned.
Her lips parted in disbelief, her chest trembling with something she hadn't felt in years-
Belonging.
Manisha softly patted her shoulder, whispering:
"See how happy tara looks?"
Ritvika blinked back her tears and silently sat on the empty chair, her heart still cautious, but for the first time in years-a little lighter.
Soon the breakfast resumed with quiet clinks of cutlery and murmurs of conversation. The large Rajvansh dining table buzzed softly-everyone had found their rhythm again.
Ritvika sat silently beside Vidyut, her back straight, hands neatly folded in her lap. The distance between them wasn't much physically... but emotionally, it was an ocean.
Across the table, Tara sat like a princess in Hridhaan's lap, a playful smile spread across her tiny face.
Aarush, seated beside them, had taken the role of her personal server, feeding her tiny slices of fruit, occasionally sneaking a grape into his own mouth and pretending to be caught-making Tara burst into giggles.
"Bhabhi..." Aarush suddenly spoke, his tone softer, thoughtful.
"...yeh khana toh kha leti hai na?."
Ritvika, who had barely touched her plate, looked at him startled.
She nodded faintly, hesitant. Aarush tore a small piece of paratha, folded it neatly, and extended it towards Tara
Tara adorably opened her mouth and took the bite quietly.
Meanwhile, Hridhaan, who had been playfully poking Tara's cheek, muttered almost in awe:
"She's so soft..."
His finger gently brushed Tara's round cheek again, making the little one squeal and hide her face in his chest.
"Ohh my little baby is shy." Aarush teased.
" Her eyes are soo cute." Hridhaan added with mock seriousness, making the family chuckle.
From the corner of her eye, Ritvika noticed Vidyut, sitting silent and still.
His face was unreadable. He didn't speak, didn't smile, didn't react.
Just cold... like a statue carved from rage.
Everything was going relatively smooth... until Vidyut decided to speak.
"I'm going back to my house today."
His voice cut through the dining room like a sharp knife-cold, blunt, and absolute.
All movement at the breakfast table ceased. Spoons halted midair. Chews were left unfinished.
"But... you just got married," Lakshay voiced what everyone was thinking.
"So what?" Vidyut snapped, not even sparing him a glance.
"The marriage is done. And this was the deal, right? That I stay here till the wedding. I did that. Now I'm leaving."
"But beta-" Manisha began, her tone unsure, heart clenching.
"Maa please," Vidyut interrupted, "aapne hi kaha tha, no one will force anything on me. So don't step back now. I'm going. That's final."
There was a tense pause.
"Abhi toh hum Tara ke saath dhang se khele bhi nahi," Aarush suddenly mumbled, trying to lighten the moment.
(We haven't even played properly with Tara yet)
"Then who is stopping you?" Vidyut shrugged, his voice mocking.
"No one's stopping us, but now she'll go with you, right?" Aarush said casually, but his words carried a heavier meaning.
Vidyut's eyes narrowed.
"What?"
Aarush glanced at Manisha, who took over.
"Umm... Ritvika, Vidyut will leave after breakfast. So please, pack your bags. Okay?"
She tried to keep her voice soft, almost too casual-but it felt like a boulder crashing into Ritvika's chest.
Ritvika, who had been silently observing everything with confusion, choked on her water.
What?
She's... going with him?
She looked down at Tara sitting on Hridhaan's lap joyfully playing with fruit pieces, her innocent giggle unaware of the storm brewing.
"Why would they come with me?" Vidyut suddenly spoke, jaw tightly clenched, fury rising again.
"Vidyut," Lakshay began, "Bhul rahe ho kya? Shaadi ho gayi hai tumhari. Yeh dono bhi toh tumhare hi saath jaayenge."
A loud silence dropped over the room like a dead weight.
Vidyut's jaw clenched the moment those words left Lakshay's mouth.
"Of course they're coming with you."
The sentence echoed in his mind like a curse.
He stood up from his chair, the wooden legs scraping sharply against the floor. The sound was enough to silence the room.
Everyone looked at him.
His eyes scanned the table-his mother, his brothers, his father... and then her.
That woman.
Sitting silently with her head lowered.
And that child in Hridhaan's lap like she belonged here.
He didn't say anything. Not yet.
His knuckles turned white as he pushed both hands against the edge of the dining table. A muscle ticked in his jaw.
Then-he finally spoke.
"Why are they coming with me?"
His voice was calm. Too calm.
The kind that carried warning.
"This wasn't part of the deal. The wedding happened. I played along. I stayed through the rituals. That was it. No one said anything about dragging two extra people into my house."
Ritvika flinched.
Manisha opened her mouth to speak, but Vidyut cut her off before a single word could come out.
Lakshay sighed, setting down his cutlery.
Vidyut gave a sharp laugh-humorless and cold.
"Responsibility. Right."
His eyes flicked toward Tara, who was playing with a spoon in Aarush's lap.
"This is a circus."
He turned to his father, as if waiting for him to shut this down. But Lakshay didn't speak.
And that silence spoke volumes.
Vidyut straightened, face unreadable, eyes hard as stone.