⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟓˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆
It was late at night. Tara was fast asleep on the bed, her tiny breaths steady and soft against the silence.
Ritvika stepped out of the washroom after changing, her hair still damp, her nightwear neat and simple.
She was just about to climb onto the bed when Vidyut's deep voice stopped her mid-step.
"Ritvika."
She turned, startled, and found him walking into the room.
"Show me the files... the reports from your last test," Vidyut said, his tone calm but firm.
Ritvika froze on the spot, her face draining of color. Her heart lurched in fear. Why does he want that file now?
He caught her hesitation, his sharp eyes narrowing as he stepped closer. With a slight tilt of his chin, he indicated towards the cupboard. "Show me," he repeated, his voice edged with authority. "I had told you that day to send me a picture, but you didn't. Now show me."
Ritvika's throat went dry. She clutched the hem of her shirt, fumbling with her fingers, trying to think of a lie. "V-voh... that report..." she stammered. "Yes, the reports were normal, na? I told you already. So... why do you want to see them again?"
"Why?" Vidyut's brow arched. His voice was quiet but carried weight. "Yes, you told me they were normal. But still—show me. I'll arrange all the reports in a proper folder myself. Now go. Fast."
Her pulse hammered in her ears, her mind racing. Unsure what else to say, Ritvika only blinked and nodded faintly. She forced her feet to move, each step heavy, and disappeared into the closet.
Moments later, she returned with a file in her trembling hands, her steps slow... hesitant... as though every inch forward dragged her closer to something she wasn't ready to face.
Vidyut snatched the file from Ritvika's trembling hands and began flipping through the pages. His sharp eyes scanned every word, every number, and with each line his face hardened. By the time he reached the last page, his jaw was tight, his grip on the file almost crushing.
Snapping the file shut with a loud thud, he turned to her, his eyes blazing with fury.
"These... these are the normal reports you were talking about?" he bit out, his voice sharp enough to slice through the silence.
Ritvika flinched, her lips parting as her heart thumped painfully in her chest. "V-voh... I—"
"Voh? Voh kya haan?!" he cut her off, his voice rising, the anger spilling over. "These reports clearly say your heart's pumping capacity has reduced—reduced—and you are standing here telling me they were normal? Are you out of your fking mind?!"
By the last words he clutched his head, pacing one step, his temper spiraling.
"Vidyut..." she whispered, her voice shaking, but before she could say anything more, he snapped.
"Shhh. Chup." His command was sharp, leaving no room for protest
[Quiet. Silence.].
Her eyes welled with tears, her vision blurring as she tried again, "I... I only thought—"
"I asked you, didn't I?" he shouted, cutting her yet again, his hand gripping her arm tightly as she flinched harder. "I asked you if everything was really normal. But no! You didn't tell me."
His voice grew colder, harsher, each word hitting her like a whip.
"Mujhe samajh nahi aata, tumhare dimaag mein kami hai kya?"
[I don't understand—are you out of your senses?]
Her lips trembled, she wanted to explain, but he wouldn't let her. His anger was a storm.
"Tell me, are you out of your mind? Samajh mein nahi aata tumhe? [Don't you understand?] Here I am, trying to do every possible thing to make sure you don't face any problem... but you? What are you doing? Just making things worse!"
His chest rose and fell rapidly, his hand still gripping her arm, his eyes dark with a mix of fear and anger.
"Tell me, is this normal, Ritvika? Are you serious?" His voice cracked with rage. "You are a heart patient! A heart patient! And you... you act like this is nothing!"
Her tears finally spilled, streaking down her face, but his words didn't stop.
"Hadd hoti hai, Ritvika! Tumhe na bas apne aap se matlab hai. Tum sirf apne baare mein sochti ho. You are selfish.Neither do you think about Tara, nor about anyone else. Do you even have an idea how serious this issue is?!"
The room fell heavy under his words, the sound of Tara's soft breaths in the background the only reminder of calm in this storm. Ritvika stood there, broken under the weight of his accusations, tears dripping silently, her lips trembling with the words she couldn't gather the courage to speak.
"Vidyut, I—" Ritvika started to speak but couldn't complete. She knew she was at fault this time.
"Ritvika, tell me one thing seriously," Vidyut spoke, his tone turning a little calm now. He gently made her look at him.
"Yes, I know I didn't behave well with you at the start. Yes, I know I was acting like a monster... but tell me honestly—after finding out about your condition, did I do anything that hurt you?" His voice dropped lower.
Ritvika shook her head, tears falling down her cheeks.
"Then why didn't you tell me about these reports? I'm trying to do everything possible, but how can I if you keep hiding things from me?" His voice tightened with restrained frustration. "Ek reason do mujhe, kyun jhoot bola tumne?"
(Give me one reason, why you lied to me?)
She blinked rapidly, then whispered, her voice barely audible. "I...I didn't want...want to disturb you... you were out so I..." Her words broke in between, hiccupping.
Vidyut sighed heavily at her childish reason, running a hand over his face.
"Ritvika..." Vidyut called her name slowly, his tone firm but not harsh. She instantly looked down, fiddling with her fingers like a guilty child.
"You can't keep doing this," he said, leaning closer, making her meet his gaze again. "Do you even understand how serious your condition is? If you hide things from me, how will I take care of you? Hmm?"
"I'm... sorry," she whispered, her lips trembling.
"Sorry doesn't work every time," Vidyut replied softly, his voice carrying that hint of authority which always made her listen. "You need to promise me something."
She nodded quickly, her teary eyes blinking at him.
"From now on, you will not hide anything from me. No reports, no medicines, no pain. Nothing. Understood?"
Ritvika sniffled and nodded again, this time more firmly, like a little girl promising her elder. "Hmm... I won't hide... I promise," she mumbled.
"Good," Vidyut said, his expression softening at her obedience. He brushed a stray strand of hair from her face before standing up. "Stay here."
Ritvika watched him quietly, still sniffling, as he walked out of the room. Within minutes, he returned carrying a small bottle of oil.
She frowned slightly, confused. "Yeh... kya kar rahe ho?"
(What... what are you doing?)
"Sit properly," he ordered, kneeling down in front of her. "You've been running around all day, on top of that this stress... your feet must be hurting."
Before she could protest, Vidyut uncapped the bottle, poured some oil into his palms, and gently lifted her foot onto his thigh. His large hands wrapped around her delicate ankle, and as he began massaging her foot with careful pressure, Ritvika gasped softly.
"Vidyut... you don't have to—"
"Chup," he cut her off gently but firmly. "I want to."
(Quiet)
She bit her lip, her eyes moist again, but this time from the overwhelming tenderness he showed. Slowly, Ritvika relaxed, letting him massage her feet as silence filled the room — a silence that spoke louder than words.
!!!
Morning light filtered into the room. Vidyut's eyes fluttered open first, and the sight before him made his chest still for a moment.
Tara was clinging tightly to him, her small hand fisted against his shirt.
But what surprised him more was Ritvika—her arm was wrapped protectively around Tara, while her leg had found its way across him.
Vidyut stiffened, controlling himself with difficulty.
For a few seconds, he just lay there, caught between irritation and something deeper he couldn't name.
Carefully, he untangled himself without waking them.
His gaze lingered on the two of them sleeping peacefully, their faces glowing softly in the morning calm.
For the first time, a thought pierced through him—how much of a jerk have I been to them? The answer sat heavy in his chest. Something inside him shifted, unfamiliar and unsettling. Closing his eyes again, he pulled the blanket slightly higher and let himself drift back into slumber.
After some time, Ritvika stirred. Her lashes fluttered, and she blinked against the morning light. Slowly, she sat up, her gaze absentmindedly moving toward the wall clock. The next second, her breath hitched. Horror dawned on her face.
"Oh no... I'm super late!"
With panic, she scrambled out of bed and rushed into the bathroom. Within minutes, she emerged again, dressed in a beautiful embroidered red suit that hugged her figure gracefully. Her hands shook slightly as she reached over to Vidyut, trying to wake him.
"Uthhiye! Jaldi uthhiye... hum bohot late ho gaye hain!"
("Wake up! Please wake up quickly... we are very late!")
Her urgency broke through his sleep, forcing his eyes open. Tara too stirred, rubbing her eyes adorably as Ritvika continued pacing in the room. Grabbing a comb, Ritvika began running it through her hair hurriedly, trying to tame her long locks.
Vidyut leaned back on the bed, watching her silently. The red suit brought out the glow of her skin, the embroidery glittering faintly under the morning sun. She looked breathtaking. His eyes trailed over her every move, unable to stop himself from admiring her beauty.
Ritvika, after finally getting ready, walked into the living room with Vidyut and Tara in his arms. They settled onto the chairs, Tara clinging to her father's collar, and Ritvika immediately lowered her gaze with guilt.
"I'm sorry," she said softly, her voice full of sincerity. "I got late..."
Before anyone could reply, her eyes flickered toward the dining table. Her breath hitched.
There it was—spread out like a feast: paneer butter masala, chole bhature, puris, naan, dal makhni, and bowls of oily, spicy dishes that shimmered with ghee.
Ritvika's lips parted slightly, her eyes wide with innocent excitement.
The childlike amusement dancing in her gaze made everyone smile unconsciously.
But just as her hand reached toward the bowl of paneer to serve herself, Vidyut's firm grip closed around her wrist.
"No."
She blinked at him, startled.
He leaned in, voice low but laced with steel. "You're not eating this."
Her face immediately faltered, like a child caught red-handed. Confusion rippled across the room.
"Arre, kyun beta?" Manisha frowned. "Why can't she eat? It's just normal food."
(Hey, why?)
Ritvika swallowed hard, forcing a nervous smile. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and spoke quickly, her voice trembling yet careful, "Woh... actually, I—I don't like oily food much. It doesn't suit me."
Everyone hummed in understanding, nodding casually, but her eyes lowered, hiding the truth.
Vidyut didn't miss the way her fingers tightened in her lap, or the flicker of longing she couldn't conceal when her gaze darted back toward the paneer. His jaw clenched, but he didn't move. One hand still rested against hers under the table, silently warning her.
And for a moment—only a moment—she felt both suffocated and protected.
Vidyut placed the plate of bread, butter and juice in front of Ritvika, his voice calm yet stern, "Yeh khana hai, bas. Aur kuch nahi."
(This is what you have to eat, nothing else.)
Her face immediately fell, lips curving into a soft pout, but she didn't argue.
Quietly, like an obedient child, she picked up the bread and began eating it.
Still, her eyes refused to stay on her own plate.
Every few seconds, they wandered toward the others—how happily everyone was eating chhole-bhature, how the aroma filled the air.
Her gaze kept stealing glances at the golden puris on lakshay's plate, the rich chhole on Aarush's, the relish with which Manisha was eating.
Vidyut noticed it all. His jaw tightened, his fingers drummed once on the table as he tried to ignore the way she was practically devouring the sight with her eyes rather than her mouth. A heavy sigh escaped him.
Finally, with a resigned shake of his head, he reached forward, pulling an empty plate towards himself. He served a small portion—just a spoonful of chhole and two puris—and then slid the plate in front of Ritvika.
Leaning a little closer, his deep voice dropped low in her ear, "Bas itna. Aur nahi. Ab chup chap khao."
(Just this much. No more. Now eat quietly.)
Ritvika's entire face lit up. Her pout was gone, replaced by a sparkle in her eyes that seemed to twinkle with childlike happiness.
She didn't waste a second—quickly tearing the puri, dipping it into the chhole, and taking a big bite.
The joy on her face while tasting the rich flavor was almost comical, like she had been starving for days.
Vidyut leaned back, watching her quietly. She looked so content, as though those two puris were the biggest luxury in the world. And somewhere deep inside, despite his frustration, something inside him softened at the sight.
Ritvika was eating happily, but soon only two bites of puri were left while the chhole on her plate had already finished. She stared at the empty plate and then glanced around, her face falling.
Vidyut, who had been quietly observing her every move, immediately noticed. His jaw flexed for a moment, then without a word, he shifted his own bowl of chhole towards her, his eyes locking on hers with a silent command.
"Eat," he indicated, his tone firm yet strangely soft.
Ritvika's eyes widened, a shy smile curving her lips as she hesitated for a second before dipping her puri into his chhole, eating from his plate like it was the most natural thing.
The family caught the subtle exchange, and the room filled with suppressed chuckles, their banter halting for a moment to take in the scene.
Vidyut only shot them a warning glare, but his attention immediately returned to Ritvika, watching her finish those bites with quiet satisfaction.
Manisha suddenly spoke while serving herself more,
"Viyana and Atharv are coming."
Ritvika's brows knitted in confusion at the unfamiliar names. She looked around at everyone with questioning eyes.
Before she could ask, Aarush almost jumped in excitement, his face lighting up instantly,
"Sachiii? Viyana di aur jiju aa rahe hain?"
(Really? Viyana di and jiju are coming?)
The entire dining table buzzed with sudden energy at that announcement, everyone exchanging smiles and murmurs. Ritvika still sat a little lost, trying to figure out who exactly Viyana and Atharv were while the family's excitement only grew louder.
Ritvika's eyes flickered in confusion as everyone around her began talking about Viyana and Atharv. She couldn't quite place who they were, though Aarush's excitement made it obvious that they were important to the family.
Parul, who immediately caught Ritvika's puzzled expression, leaned a little closer to her and said warmly, "Arey beta, Viyana is Vidyut's mausi's daughter... aur Atharv is her husband. You know, she is seven months pregnant now."
Her tone carried genuine happiness as she continued, "Both Viyana and Atharv are very sweet. Tumhe unhe bohot pasand aayenge."
(You will really like them.)
Ritvika smiled softly, her fingers still playing with the edge of her dupatta as Parul's cheerful voice continued to fill the dining space.
Parul (happily): "Aur sabse acchi baat pata hai? Viyana aur Atharv dono bahut hi pyaare hain... sabke saath mil jul kar rehte hain."
(And do you know the best part? Both Viyana and Atharv are very sweet... they mingle so well with everyone.)
Ritvika nodded gently, her lips curving into a faint smile. The warmth in Parul's tone eased her confusion, making her feel a little lighter.
The conversation around the table didn't stop—everyone continued chatting excitedly about Viyana and Atharv, about the preparations for their arrival, and about how the house would soon be filled with even more laughter.
Ritvika, though mostly quiet, listened with soft curiosity, letting the family's enthusiasm slowly wrap around her like comfort.
Evening came with a fresh glow in the Rajvansh mansion. The sound of cars pulling into the driveway made everyone rush to the entrance.
Viyana stepped inside with Atharv, her lavender suit flowing gracefully around her. Her baby bump was visible, glowing just like her radiant smile. Atharv held her hand protectively, his other hand carrying a small bag. Together, they looked every bit the perfect couple—graceful and grounded.
The family welcomed them with open arms, showering blessings and excitement. Viyana blushed under the affection, hugging everyone one by one, while Atharv greeted the elders with quiet respect.
Meanwhile, Ritvika quietly slipped into the kitchen and returned with two glasses of fresh juice. She set them gently on the table and turned back, about to head toward the kitchen again—when a cheerful voice stopped her in her tracks.
"Bhabhiiiiii!" Viyana's tone was filled with warmth, her face beaming as she opened her arms wide for a hug.
Ritvika froze, caught off guard. For a moment, hesitation flickered in her eyes, but eventually she stepped forward. As soon as she leaned down, Viyana enveloped her in a tight embrace, smiling from ear to ear.
"I was so excited to finally meet you," she said breathlessly. "You know...I couldn't come to your wedding because of my health, but I specially came now, only to see you."
A shy smile bloomed on Ritvika's lips, touched by her genuine affection.
Just then, Aarush piped up teasingly, "Accha di, toh aap mujhse milne nahi aayi?"
(So, you didn't come to meet me?)
The family chuckled at his mock-hurt tone. Viyana giggled and shot back playfully, "Sabse milne aayi hoon, par Ritvika bhabhi se thoda zyaada."
(I have come to meet everyone, but a little more for Ritvika Bhabhi)
Her mischievous reply sent laughter rippling through the room. Even Ritvika couldn't help but hide a soft giggle behind her dupatta.
Viyana's eyes then darted around eagerly. "Bhabhiii...voh chhoti patakha kahan hai?" she asked, almost bouncing in excitement. Then, with a dramatic flair, she added, "You know, I was craving to meet her even more than I crave pani puri!"
(Bhabhi...where is that little firecracker?)
Everyone burst into laughter again, Ritvika too unable to stop smiling at the innocent exaggeration.
And as if on cue, the sound of soft giggles floated across the hall. Heads turned to see Tara running toward Vidyut, clutching a small toy airplane in her little hand.
"Daddddaaaaa!" she squealed in delight.
Vidyut immediately bent down, scooping her into his arms. Tara's laughter rang out, filling the hall with joy.
Viyana's eyes twinkled as she watched the little girl, her lips curving into a fond, emotional smile.
Viyana's eyes sparkled the moment they landed on the little bundle of energy now by Ritvika's side. She leaned forward slightly, her hand resting on her baby bump as she called out with overflowing warmth, "Tara, come here, sweetheart."
The little girl froze for a moment, her tiny fingers tightening around Ritvika's dupatta.
Her big doe eyes darted between Ritvika and the new faces, hesitation painting her expression.
Ritvika bent down to her level, cupping her soft cheek gently.
"Jaao, baby... don't be shy," she whispered, her voice soothing and reassuring.
Reluctantly, Tara let go of her grip and toddled forward in small steps. Before she could even properly stop, Viyana had bent down and swept her into a loving embrace. A shower of kisses rained down on Tara's chubby cheeks as Viyana's laughter filled the room.
"Arrey, meri pyaari doll! Kitni cute ho tum!" Viyana cooed, tickling Tara's sides until the child's squeals of laughter bounced off the walls.
(my sweet doll! You are so cute!)
Tara's giggles echoed like the sweetest melody, filling the space with pure innocence. Ritvika stood a few steps back, her heart swelling as she watched the scene unfold. Her smile grew radiant, glowing brighter than ever, while her eyes softened at the tenderness before her.
Atharv, who had been quietly watching, stepped closer and gently placed a steadying hand on Viyana's back as she played with the little one. His touch was protective, grounding her with comfort while she gleefully hugged and kissed Tara.
Ritvika's smile deepened. The sight of love, laughter, and quiet support blended together so beautifully that her own chest felt warm with unspoken gratitude.
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