Chapter -61
Aarushi sat curled on the living room sofa. Her phone rested on the armrest beside her, untouched, yet the weight of it felt heavier than ever.
Her thumb grazed its edge absentmindedly, lost in thought.
Should I call him? Or maybe just a message? What if he doesn’t pick up… just like I didn’t?
It had been two whole days. Two days of silence between them.
Did he give up?
Her chest tightened at the thought. After that conversation with her mother earlier—about how pain wasn’t always loud, how sometimes people stay quiet because they’re hurting too—Aarushi couldn’t stop thinking about him.
The guilt tugged at her, quiet but relentless.
And then—her phone lit up.
Abhimanyu Calling.
Aarushi froze. Her breath caught.
"He’s calling…" she murmured, eyes wide. "He’s really calling."
Her heart thudded, the kind that almost made your fingers fumble. She reached for the phone quickly, her thumb just brushing the answer icon when—
"Aarushi" her mother’s startled voice rang out from the kitchen.
She jolted. The phone slipped from her grip and landed on the couch with a soft thud.
"Mumma?" Aarushi called back, already on her feet. "What happened?"
She rushed toward the kitchen, heart racing. The moment she stepped in, her eyes widened.
Her mother was sitting on the floor, holding her ankle with a tight expression. A small stool lay toppled beside her, and near the shelf, a glass jar lay shattered.
"Mumma! Are you okay?" Aarushi knelt beside her immediately, scanning the situation. "What happened?"
"I was just reaching for the jar on the top shelf," her mother said, wincing. "I thought I could manage with the stool, but I lost my balance."
"You should’ve called me," Aarushi said, brows furrowed, already helping her adjust to a more comfortable position. "Why were you climbing up there alone?"
"I didn’t want to bother you," she said lightly, waving it off. "I thought it’d take a second."
"Well, that second could’ve turned into something worse," Aarushi replied, her tone gentle but firm.
She helped her mother up slowly, supporting her with one arm while carefully guiding her to the sofa.
She placed a cushion under her mother’s leg and gently rested her injured foot on it.
Her mother winced slightly, but Aarushi’s hands were steady—even if her heart wasn’t.
Inside, she was panicking. But outside, she stayed composed.
She fetched the pain relief spray and crepe bandage from the first aid box, kneeling again beside the sofa.
The familiar scent of menthol filled the room as she sprayed the swollen ankle. Her fingers worked gently but efficiently, wrapping the bandage with the kind of care only a daughter could give.
Once she finished, she placed an ice pack over the bandage, watching as her mother finally exhaled and offered her a small smile.
"I’ll be okay," she said softly, resting her hand over Aarushi’s.
Aarushi brushed a few strands of hair off her mother’s forehead, her touch light. "Don’t you dare try to climb anything again," she scolded, but her voice was more affection than anger.
Her mother chuckled faintly. "Okay"
It was only when everything settled—the room calm, the pain eased, the worry slightly subdued—that Aarushi remembered.
The call.
Her heart dropped.
She turned sharply, eyes darting across the living room until they landed on her phone lying on the couch. She quickly picked it up, the screen lit up instantly.
4 Missed Calls — Abhimanyu
Her breath hitched.
"Shit…" she whispered, dragging a hand down her face. Her chest constricted, heart thundering as guilt and hope collided in a storm of confusion.
He called.
Four times.
Before she could even process that, footsteps echoed behind her.
Sid stepped into the room, his gaze immediately shifting from her to her mother, who now sat on the sofa with her foot propped up on a cushion.
"Aunty, what happened?" he asked, concern tightening his usually casual tone.
Her mother gave a soft smile, brushing aside the tension. "I just slipped while reaching up for something. Twisted my ankle."
Sid frowned, stepping closer. "You should let a doctor look at it."
She shook her head. "No, no. Aarushi already took care of it. She applied medicine and wrapped it up. It’s feeling much better now."
Sid turned to Aarushi—who stood frozen, her phone clenched tightly in her palm.
"You sure she’s okay?" he asked gently.
"She’s fine," Aarushi said quietly, though her voice was flat, distracted—her mind already miles away.
She quickly unlocked the screen with shaking fingers and hit the call button, pulse rising.
The phone rang once.
And then—the screen went dark.
Dead battery.
"No, no, not now…" she murmured, frantically tapping the power button. "Come on, come on—please—"
Her mother and Sid watched her, confused by the sudden panic on her face.
Sid stepped closer, brows furrowed. "What’s wrong?"
Aarushi exhaled sharply, her voice breaking with quiet frustration. "My phone just died. I… I needed to make an important call."
Without waiting for a reply, she turned toward the stairs, muttering mostly to herself, "I’ll go and put it on charge."
But Sid called after her before she could take the next step.
"Aru! Wait. What about shopping? You promised we’d go out today, remember?"
She paused on the first stair, hand gripping the wooden banister like a lifeline. Her back was still to him when she spoke, voice distant, laced with emotion she didn’t want him to hear.
"Yeah, I remember. Just give me a minute, okay? I’ll plug it in and come."
Sid nodded slowly and said " Okay I am waiting here, come soon "
Upstairs, Aarushi closed the door behind her softly. She walked over, plugged the phone in with a little more force than necessary, and watched as the screen flickered back to life.
The lock screen glowed again.
Her thumb hovered over the screen. Just one tap. Just one call. But she didn’t move.
She glanced at the time.
Sid is waiting and its already late , they have to leave....
"I’ll call him later," she whispered to herself, barely audible, as if saying it aloud would make it easier. "After shopping. It’s just a few hours…"
She picked up her purse from the table, turned toward the door and went downstairs.....
After few hours ~
The bedroom was dimly lit with the soft, golden hue of early evening filtering in through the sheer curtains.
The air was quiet, holding the weight of an unease that had become a constant companion in Abhimanyu's heart.
The sound of the closet door creaking open broke the silence.
Abhimanyu stepped out slowly, adjusting the cuff of his crisp black shirt.
A blazer hung loosely over his shoulder, waiting to be worn. His jaw was freshly shaven, his hair styled neatly — yet there was a certain hollowness in his eyes, as if no amount of effort could mask the tired ache settling deep within.
Today was Meera’s birthday.
He hadn't wanted to go.
Not because of Meera — though her presence did hold a quiet discomfort now — but because every passing moment without Aarushi felt like a suffocating fog. But she had insisted again and again, And when Rudra, too, encouraged him to make an appearance, he gave in. Reluctantly.
He walked over to the dresser and picked up his phone from beside the watch stand. His eyes instinctively went to her name in the chat.
Still no blue ticks.
Last seen: 5 hours ago.
He opened the thread anyway, heart heavy, eyes locking onto the messages he’d sent earlier that day.
They weren’t long. Just raw pieces of himself .
"Can we have dinner tonight? Just us. Please. I’m missing you a lot…"
"Or anywhere else. We can go wherever you want... just for an hour."
"If you're busy, can I come to meet you? Or... we can go to our villa. I’ll cook—anything you want. Just say something."
He stared at the screen, waiting for something—anything. A read receipt. A typing bubble. A miracle.
But there was nothing.Just silence.
His thumb hovered over the screen, debating whether to message again, or perhaps call one more time. But the fear of rejection stopped him. Again.
Maybe she saw it and chose to ignore it. Maybe she’s really done.
The thought hollowed his chest. His jaw clenched.
Just then, his phone lit up with an incoming call.
Rudra.
He answered instantly.
"I’m downstairs. Come fast," Rudra said, his tone casual but brisk.
Abhimanyu cleared his throat and tried to mask the weariness in his voice. "Yeah. Coming."
The call ended, and for a second, he just stood there, phone still in hand.
His eyes drifted toward the bed — cold, untouched on one side. Her side.
He forced himself to look away.
Without another word, he slipped his arms into the blazer, adjusted the collar, and picked up his car keys.
The quiet click of his shoes echoed in the silence of the hall as he made his way downstairs.
The worker bowed respectfully, but he didn’t acknowledge him. His thoughts were elsewhere — lost somewhere between hope and despair, between guilt and longing.
Outside, the crisp evening air hit his face the moment he stepped out.
The black luxury SUV was parked at the front. Rudra sat in the driver’s seat, window halfway down, tapping something on his phone.
Abhimanyu walked toward the car in silence, opened the passenger door, and slid inside without a word.
Rudra started the engine with a sigh, the soft hum of the car filling the silence between them.
The gates of Rathore Mansion slid open as the car rolled out onto the dimly lit road.
Trees lined either side of the avenue, swaying gently in the evening breeze, but the atmosphere inside the car felt heavier—weighted with something unsaid.
"We’ll be back soon," Abhimanyu said, adjusting the cuff of his crisp black shirt, his eyes still locked on his phone.
Rudra shot him a quick, disappointed glance. "You don’t even try to enjoy parties, we––"
Abhimanyu didn’t budge. "We’ll leave soon," he repeated, more firmly this time.
Rudra clearly wanted to say more, but Abhimanyu’s tone left no room for negotiation.
He sighed dramatically and pressed harder on the accelerator, accepting his fate for the evening.
Abhimanyu, however, was already far away. His thoughts weren’t in the car, and certainly not with the prospect of Meera’s birthday celebration.
His phone rested on his palm....
No response since the afternoon.
His jaw clenched slightly as he stared at the unchanged chat, a soft pulse of worry starting to echo in his chest.
She always checked his messages. Even in the worst of their cold wars, she never left his messages unread.
Today was different.
Rudra glanced at him again, noticing the storm brewing in his friend’s silence. "What’s going on?"
Abhimanyu blinked, hesitated, then answered in a voice lower than usual. "I texted her. Around two in the afternoon. I even called. She hasn’t read the message. Not even once."
Rudra’s brows furrowed. "She must be busy somewhere"
Abhimanyu nodded slowly. "It’s not like her. Even if she’s mad, she… she checks."
A hint of fear crept into his voice — a small tremor of unease that settled deep. His thumb hovered over the screen again, tempted to call one more time.
"Should I try calling her?" Rudra offered, voice steady.
Abhimanyu gave a short nod. "Yeah….try it."
Rudra didn’t hesitate. He pulled out his phone, tapped her name, and brought it to his ear. The call rang. Once. Twice.
No answer.
His expression tightened, and he tried again. Still no response.
Abhimanyu sat up straighter now, his mind racing. "What if she’s not okay? What if something happened?"
"I’m calling her mother," he muttered, already scrolling through his contacts.
He pressed the call button and brought the phone to his ear. His heart thudded once. Twice.
Then—
"Hello? Yes beta?" came her mother’s gentle voice.
"Khamma ghani..." he greeted quickly. "Aarushi... I’ve been calling and messaging her since afternoon. She hasn’t read anything. I just wanted to check if she’s okay."
"Oh!" her mother said lightly, brushing off the tension in his voice. "She’s out with Sidharth. They went for shopping. She left her phone at home"
Abhimanyu exhaled sharply — a long, slow breath of pure relief, like a tight knot in his chest had finally loosened. But even in that moment of calm, a small corner of his heart twisted. "Oh, okay" he said
" Don’t worry, she’ll be back soon," her voice said warmly, before fading slightly. "Yes,wait a second, Aarushi’s father is calling," she added in the background, likely speaking to someone near her.
"Take care," she said quickly before ending the call.
The line went dead.
Abhimanyu lowered the phone, eyes distant as he looked out the window. The city lights flickered past — blurred dots of yellow and white.
"She’s out with her friend," he told Rudra when he asked about her.
And though Abhimanyu now knew she was safe… that cold twist in his chest stayed.
After an hour ~
The drive to the venue was relatively quiet. Abhimanyu remained unusually still in the passenger seat, his gaze lost somewhere in the night sky, as Rudra hummed softly to the music playing on the car stereo.
Just before heading toward the event hall, they made a brief stop at a boutique gift shop tucked in the corner of the hotel lobby. Amid soft lighting and shelves lined with delicate trinkets, Rudra and Abhimanyu picked out a gift for her.
When they reached the grand, warmly lit hall, the sounds of laughter, music, and clinking glasses welcomed them.
The place was adorned with soft pinks and silvers. Inside, people moved with drinks in hand, laughter floating like perfume in the air, and upbeat music pulsing through the space.
As they stepped in, Meera spotted them from across the room—and her smile bloomed like a spark.
Her heels clicked against the marble floor as she hurried over. Her eyes naturally flicked first to Rudra, but the moment she saw Abhimanyu standing beside him, something inside her fluttered again.
There he was.
In that fitted black shirt, sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal his watch and forearms, his sharp features unreadable, eyes slightly tired but still dangerously captivating.
"Hey,You both came!" she greeted, her voice laced with genuine excitement.
"Happy birthday, Meera," Rudra grinned, handing over the gift first."This is for you"
She smiled as she took it and said "Thank you"
Then Abhimanyu stepped forward, holding out a sleek, elegantly wrapped package.
"This is from me, and my wife" he said passing the gift to her.
Meera’s expression didn’t falter, but her stomach twisted slightly at the mention.
Wife.
Of course.
She took the gift with a practiced smile, though her hands trembled just slightly under the ribbon.
"Thank you," she said, not trusting herself to say anything more without her voice betraying her. "Both of you"
"I’ll just go place these," she added quickly, turning on her heel before either could notice the flicker of emotion in her eyes.
Abhimanyu and Rudra moved inside the sprawling party area, the crowd swelling with familiar faces, but Abhimanyu’s eyes barely registered them.
He wasn’t here for conversations. He wasn’t even here in spirit. His thoughts were still back to Aarushi and all his unsaid words.
Rudra nudged his shoulder, trying to lift the mood. "Come on. Let’s hit the bar. Might as well make the most of it."
Abhimanyu didn’t protest. He followed.
They reached the sleek, dimly lit bar area that overlooked the party from a slight elevation.
Bartenders moved efficiently behind the counter, mixing colorful drinks for guests that leaned over with flirtatious smiles and excited chatter.
Rudra casually leaned against the bar, signaling the bartender. "One whiskey, neat."
He turned to Abhimanyu. "You want something?"
Abhimanyu barely shook his head. "Not in the mood."
Rudra raised an eyebrow, but didn’t argue. "Your loss," he muttered with a smirk and took his glass.
They stood side by side, watching the party below as lights blinked and guests mingled.
Laughter echoed from across the room, but Abhimanyu remained still, untouched by the atmosphere.
His eyes flicked down to his phone again. Still nothing.
His fingers tightened around the device for a second before he slipped it back into his pocket.
They both stood there and watched the flow of people as they leaned casually against the counter.
Abhimanyu gaze wandered every now and then, but mostly, he stood with his arms folded, lost in thoughts far from this glittering celebration.
Rudra, however, was more observant of the party itself. His eyes narrowed as he noticed something happening near the stage area where Meera stood—people were approaching her with wrapped gifts, but more than that, there was a pattern: nearly everyone seemed to be handing over bouquets.
Big, colorful ones. Roses. Lilies. Orchids. Lavish arrangements in cellophane and glittery ribbons.
"Hmm," Rudra muttered, sipping his drink. "You know… I think we messed up."
Abhimanyu lazily turned his head. "What now?"
Rudra gestured with his glass toward the growing pile of floral arrangements. "Look at that. Everyone’s giving Meera bouquets. Friends, cousins, colleagues, even her dad’s clients. She’s practically getting a florist shop out there. We didn’t even think of that.You should have also bought one"
Abhimanyu followed his gaze, eyes landing on Meera now smiling and hugging someone who had just handed her a giant pink bouquet.
He blinked slowly and said, voice nonchalant, "I don’t buy flowers for anyone."
Then, with a little tilt of his head and the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, he added, "Except my wife."
Rudra rolled his eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t fall out. "You absolute simp," he muttered, averting his gaze dramatically.
Abhimanyu chuckled softly.
Then Rudra raised his glass with a teasing grin. "You’re such a bitch sometimes."
Without missing a beat, Abhimanyu turned his head slightly and gave him a look—a slow, lazy, too-calm expression that had danger written all over it. The smirk returned, sharper this time.
"I think," Abhimanyu said smoothly, "you forget that you’re dating my sister."
Rudra, mid-sip, choked so hard on his drink that he coughed twice and patted his chest like a man facing death.
He turned toward Abhimanyu with wide eyes and an expression that screamed: Oh no. He forgot that Abhimanyu already knew about him dating Navya.
Abhimanyu raised an eyebrow. His smirk deepened. "Remember I told you we’ll talk later?" he said in that same, dangerously calm tone. "So… my dear, nonsense friend—first of all, how dare you date my sister?"
Rudra looked like he wanted to jump off the balcony.
He cleared his throat dramatically and forced a smile. "I—uh—it was… just something that happened, you know? My dear most-sensible, majestic friend. Like a surprise rain. An accident of fate. Beautifully accidental, really."
Abhimanyu tilted his head. "An accident? Interesting. That accident better not involve any fireworks or late-night drives, Rudra."
Rudra tried to laugh but it came out more like a hiccup. "Of course not! Please. I’m a gentleman. I’m a saint. A monk, my greatest brother"
Abhimanyu raised a brow. "You just called me a bitch thirty seconds ago."
Rudra gasped like he’d been falsely accused. "Haww! Who said that? Me? Bitch? You? Never! That person must’ve been mad. Completely crazy."
Abhimanyu nodded coolly. "Yeah, but add bastard also"
Rudra nodded furiously , passing him a tight lip smile. "Exactly! That mad, blind bastard."
There was a beat of silence.
Then Abhimanyu straightened and casually adjusted the sleeve of his shirt.
"You know," he said, almost like thinking aloud, "I won’t let you marry my sister."
And with that, he turned on his heel and started walking away with the swagger of a smug royal who had just won the war.
Rudra froze.
"What? Hey—what do you mean by won’t let me marry her?" he called, eyes wide.
Abhimanyu kept walking.
"Abhimanyu! Don’t mess around like that, yaar" Rudra half-jogged after him. "You’re kidding, right? RIGHT?"
"ABHIMANYU!I am serious about her yaar....I’ll show you the texts—wait, no, don’t read the texts—wait"
From over his shoulder, Abhimanyu tossed back, "We’ll talk… later."
Rudra groaned, dragging a hand down his face as he followed him through the crowd.
As Abhimanyu and Rudra made their way through the light crowd, still tossing taunts back and forth, Meera approached them with a light bounce in her step and that ever-familiar glimmer of excitement in her eyes.
"What’s happening here?" she asked, arching an amused brow as she looked at both of them suspiciously.
Both men immediately straightened,
"Nothing," Rudra said.
She narrowed her eyes playfully but didn’t press further. "Come on, it’s time for the cake-cutting"
They nodded and followed her toward the center of the room, where a large white-and-pink themed cake stood on a decorated table.
Soft fairy lights framed the backdrop, and the crowd began gathering around. People held their phones up, ready to record the moment.
The birthday song began—cheerful voices, claps, laughter blending together.
"Come on, sing" Rudra nudged Abhimanyu with his elbow.
Abhimanyu returned the nudge with equal force. "I don’t sing birthday songs."
Rudra scoffed. "Of course you don’t. What do you do, huh? You’re such a picky, it’s exhausting."
Abhimanyu gave him a side glance and smirked and in return he passed him a judging look.
The candles flickered under the soft ambient light, and Meera leaned forward, clasped her hands dramatically, and blew them out in one go as everyone cheered.
Confetti poppers burst around her, laughter erupted, and the cake-cutting began.
With a delicate silver knife in hand, Meera sliced into the cake—a multi-tiered vanilla and strawberry fusion.
Her face lit up as she cut the first piece and turned to feed it to her parents one by one, her father affectionately patting her head while her mother hugged her
Then she moved to her best friends and after them, Meera turned to approach Rudra and Abhimanyu with the plate in her hand, her smile still glowing.
She held out the cake to Rudra first. He gave a sheepish grin. "I’m allergic to vanilla."
Her expression faltered. "Oh no! I didn’t know—I’m so sorry."
"It’s okay" he said, chuckling. "Save it for someone else. It looks amazing, though."
Meera nodded and turned toward Abhimanyu, her tone brightening. "Then you take it"
But just as she lifted the fork toward him, Rudra leaned slightly and said with a teasing lilt, "My picky friend doesn’t eat cake either."
Abhimanyu gave her a faint smile and added, "Correct. You know me well, Rudra."
Meera stood there holding the fork mid-air, looking confused for a second as if her excited balloon had deflated. She slowly lowered her hand, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
"Oh… okay," she said lightly, passing the plate to a staff "More cake for others then."
"Happy Birthday again" Rudra said quickly to bridge the awkwardness, his tone cheerful.
"Thank you," she said with a polite smile
"Let’s click a picture" she suggested suddenly, recovering with a spark. "To remember this moment."
Rudra nodded his hand and pulled out his phone "Yeah ,Let’s do it."
Meera stepped behind both of them, standing slightly closer to Abhimanyu, while Rudra stood at the front and held up his phone. "Alright, say cheese… or don’t. I know he won’t."
Abhimanyu sighed but stayed still, his hands in pocket casually as the phone clicked. Rudra looked at the screen. "Perfect. One more with the official camera now."
Meera turned to the photographer, who was already standing nearby and ready.
The camera flashed once, capturing the trio—Meera smiling brightly, Rudra grinning playfully, and Abhimanyu offering the camera a blank but striking look.
"Thanks, both of you" Meera said sweetly.
Just then, Abhimanyu’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out in a flash, his eyes scanning the screen.
His heart beat quickned for a second—but no it wasn’t Aarushi.
It was Aaryan.
He quickly schooled his expression, gave a nod to Rudra and Meera, and muttered, "Excuse me, need to take this," before walking away toward a quieter corner of the room.
Meanwhile, Rudra leaned against a wall, casually scrolling through his phone.
He opened the camera gallery and found the selfie he'd taken just a few minutes ago.
He tilted his head, squinting.
"Oh damn, I’m looking handsome in this," he muttered to himself.
He uploaded it to his story with a smirky caption: Guess who’s still the hottest at every party?
On the other side ~
The house was calm when Aarushi stepped inside with her brother.
"Good night everyone" she had called cheerfully over her shoulder to Rohan and the others, already eager to reach her room.
She had enjoyed the dinner—warm laughter, teasing conversations—but there had been a dull ache lingering beneath her smile. A quiet tug in her chest.
She entered her room, dropped her bag on the bed, then paused and placed it neatly inside the almirah. A sigh escaped her lips. The room felt a little too quiet tonight.
She grabbed her towel and headed to the washroom. A hot shower helped soothe the long day away.
She hurried out after taking a shower, towel-drying her hair as she walked toward the bed, picking up her phone.
The screen lit up with unread messages and two missed call from Rudra. She quickly opened his messages first and read them.
Aarushi stared at the last message, guilt sinking deep into her chest like a stone.
"Oh damm it" she muttered, softly cursing under her breath. Her thumb hovered over the call button.
She was going to call him but stopped thinking....
What will I even say?
"I’ll keep it casual. I’ll just say, 'Let’s meet tomorrow morning,' and hang up. Short. Simple." She whispered to herself.
She took a deep breath, thumb inching toward the green button.
But then—ding.
A new notification popped up.
@TheRudd_added to their story.
Her frown deepened. She tapped the story open without much thought, half-expecting some weird meme or a gym mirror selfie.
And there it was.
A selfie.
Rudra—smiling into the camera. His face took up most of the frame. But her eyes didn’t stop there.
Her heart skipped a beat.
Behind him—Abhimanyu.
Tall, poised, flawless in his black shirt, looking exactly like the kind of man who could ruin your peace just by standing still.
Her gaze softened unconsciously. God, he looks so good tonight.
But then she noticed something else.
Someone else.
Meera.
Standing close. A little too close to him. Her face turned slightly toward Abhimanyu, as if mid-laugh or frozen in some perfect moment of comfort.
Aarushi’s breath stilled.
What... is this?
Her stomach twisted with something sharp and unwelcome.
Where are they? A party? A celebration? Or an event?
Why is she standing so close to him?
A flicker of irrational jealousy lit up in her chest.
And why the hell is he looking that handsome when I’m not even there?
She blinked and shook her head, but her gaze stayed fixed on the photo. The swirl of emotions inside her kept tightening.
It was nothing.
It had to be nothing.
But the longer she stared, the more her thoughts betrayed her. She didn’t want to feel like this. But she did.
Jealous. Guilty. A little insecure. A lot mad at herself.
She shut the app and tossed the phone on her bed like it had burned her and then flopped back on her bed, letting out a frustrated huff, her thoughts still tangled around that photo.
But just as her head hit the pillow, something snapped in her brain.
Wait.
Wait a damn minute.
She shot upright, her hair still slightly damp, the blanket sliding off her legs as she scrambled for her phone.
Her fingers flew over the screen and within seconds, she was calling Rudra.
The phone barely rang twice before he answered, his voice casual and full of mischief, "You came back home"
Aarushi frowned. "How do you know I was out?"
Rudra chuckled. "Because your overdramatic husband saw you didn’t read his messages for hours. So he did what any emotionally unavailable person would do—called your mother."
He called maa?
"Oh…" she mumbled, guilt tugging sharply at her chest. "I just got home… maybe twenty minutes ago."
Rudra hummed. "He was worried, by the way. You should text him. He really misses you alot bhabhi.....He is genuinely sorry for his mistakes"
Her voice dropped a little. "Hmm… yeah."
A pause.
Then she added, trying to sound casual, "So… where are you, by the way? I saw your story…"
Rudra answered "Meera’s birthday party, obviously! You saw it, na? And did you notice how good I looked? That lighting? That angle?"
"Of course, bhai," she said, trying to keep her voice steady, but then her tongue betrayed her heart.
"Um… but where’s… Abhi?" Her voice was soft, hesitant. She tried to sound disinterested and failed spectacularly.
"Oh… Abhimanyu? He went to take a call," Rudra replied, distracted. "Wait, that was a while ago. He hasn’t come back yet…"
There was confusion in his tone now, and she could hear the faint music and chatter in the background.
"He should’ve returned by now."
Aarushi’s mind suddenly jolted into overdrive. That’s not right.
Images flashed in her head. Scenes from the kind of crime dramas she watched in secret when Abhimanyu wasn’t around.
Someone slipping something into a drink, a man dragged away under the influence of a spiked glass, someone’s reputation destroyed in minutes…
Her chest tightened.
Her heart skipped.
No. No, no, no.
"Give the phone to Meera. I’ll wish her too" she said quickly, trying to sound natural.
"Oh, wait a sec…" Rudra’s voice trailed off. There was a rustle, a pause, and then a muttered, "Where is––"
"What?" Aarushi asked, tension coiling around her voice.
"She’s not here either," he said, voice puzzled now. "Meera… I… I can’t find her."
WHAT?!
Aarushi’s eyes widened.
Her mouth fell open in horror. "I will wish her later byee" she said and quickly cutted the call.
She shot up from the bed like a lightning bolt struck her and gasped dramatically.
"HAYE MERE PATI KI IZZAT"
(Oh, my husband's honor)
She paced her room, almost slipping on the rug as she grabbed her phone tighter and instantly dialed Abhimanyu’s number with shaking hands.
Agar us ladki ne inke saath kuch bhi kiya na to... main usko ganje ker dungi, kasam se... she muttered, pacing like a panicked lioness.
(If that girl does anything with him... I’ll shave her head bald, I swear)
The phone rang.
Once.
Twice.
Her stomach was churning now.
"Pick up" she whispered under her breath, worry settling like a storm in her chest.
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
And then—click.
____________________________________________________________________________
(Or start planning my kidnapping ??—yeah, that one kidnapper knows exactly who I'm talking about)