CHAPTER 7
Kashish stood alone on the terrace, a shawl wrapped around her upper body, shielding herself from the biting chill of the night breeze. Tomorrow would mark a pivotal moment in her life—the day she would step into Raheja’s Office, not as a visitor, but as an employee. She was about to embark on the project for Talaash Boutique under Tanuja Mehra. She had full confidence in her work; she knew her designs could impress even the harshest critics. Yet, despite her excitement, an unsettling thought loomed in the back of her mind—the presence of him . She would have to face Rudra repeatedly, and she knew she had to carefully manage her emotions, ensuring her indifference toward him didn’t attract the attention of others. This wasn’t just her reputation at stake; Shekhar was involved too, and she couldn’t allow her personal feelings to jeopardize his standing.
Unbeknownst to her, someone had been watching her in silence. Rudra stood in the shadows, hidden behind the terrace plants, his eyes fixed on her. Sleep had eluded him tonight, as it often did. Despite his exhaustion, he found no solace in rest. Seeking fresh air, he had come to the terrace, only to find her already there. As she stared up at the night sky, lost in her thoughts, he stayed in the darkness, unable to tear himself away. For a moment, he thought she might be communing with her father, seeking solace or perhaps wrestling with her anger at having to face him again. But no—she stood there calm, her gaze steady, as though planning for the days ahead.
His silent vigil was interrupted when Shekhar joined her on the terrace.
“Kashish?” Shekhar called out.
She turned, offering him a soft smile.
“I searched everywhere for you,” Shekhar said, approaching her. “It seems your childhood habits haven’t left you. Whenever you were upset, you’d come here to complain to your father.”
Rudra’s chest tightened at the revelation. How little he knew of her. For the past eleven years, she had haunted his every waking moment, yet the woman he had feared and obsessed over was still a stranger to him. He didn’t know what brought her joy, what made her sad. His memories of her were hazy, a blurred image of the 13-year-old girl he had seen once—outside the courtroom, all those years ago.
But now, she was a woman, standing before Shekhar with a quiet confidence.
“Today, I have no complaints,” Kashish said. “I came here to thank my stars.”
Intrigued, Shekhar asked, “Thank your stars?”
She nodded. “I’m excited to finally shape my career. If it weren’t for you and Anju, I’d never have taken such a bold step.”
Shekhar smiled warmly. “That’s wonderful. But are you prepared to work with Rudra?”
Her body stiffened, and Rudra saw it too. His name was enough to drain all warmth from her face, leaving only coldness in its wake.
“There will be countless moments when you’ll cross paths with him,” Shekhar continued, his tone gentle but probing. “Are you ready to face him? I’ve noticed these past few days—you don’t even acknowledge his presence. How will you manage that at work?”
Kashish turned her gaze back to the stars, avoiding the question. Shekhar gently patted her shoulder.
“Find your answers. Now go get some rest. Tomorrow, we leave for the office together.”
“Just the two of us?” she asked quietly. “I don’t want anyone else joining.”
Shekhar frowned, understanding her unspoken wish. “I can’t stop Rudra from coming with me.”
“Then I’ll take a cab,” she replied.
Shekhar sighed. “Again, I’m caught between the two of you.”
“You can never have us on the same side, Shekhar. You’ll always have to choose one. And I prefer you choose him, because I refuse to be the cause of any rift between brothers. Daadi already blames me enough for that.”
“Stop it,” Shekhar cut her off. “Rudra and I may have drifted apart, but we’re still brothers, bound by blood. Nothing can break that.”
But Kashish remained unconvinced, her silence betraying her doubts.
“The Rudra I once knew is still in there, hidden away. I hope, in the months ahead, I’ll get my younger brother back.”
Kashish avoided responding. She and Shekhar continued talking for a while longer before finally retreating to their rooms. As they disappeared inside, Rudra emerged from the shadows, stepping forward to stand where she had been just moments ago. Her scent still lingered in the air, a haunting reminder of her presence.
Staring up at the stars, he silently questioned the universe. Would she ever speak to him in this lifetime? He had no answers. Why did it matter so much? Why did her silence cut him so deeply? He had kept her image—faded and blurred—locked away in his heart for years. But now, after seeing her again, living under the same roof, those dormant feelings had awakened, burning like a slow fire inside him, threatening to consume everything.
The woman who had lived in the shadows of his mind was now very real, and she was complicating his emotions in ways he wasn’t ready to confront.
***************
Daadi was far from pleased when she learned Kashish had decided to join Raheja Designs. She confronted Shekhar, who explained how Tanuja Mehra had been captivated by Kashish’s designs. Shekhar reassured her that he would ensure Rudra wouldn’t be hurt in the process. Though reluctantly convinced, Daadi couldn’t hide her unease. The next morning, after the puja , when Kashish handed her the prasad , Daadi issued a warning.
“I have no issue with you working in our office,” Daadi said, her voice cold as she met Kashish’s gaze sharply. “But leave your hatred here. I don’t want the world to see how much you despise my grandson.”
Kashish’s eyes darkened, her grip tightening on the prasad plate before she set it aside.
“I’m surprised, even after 11 years, you still underestimate my hatred for your grandson. It’s not something I can just drop at will. This hatred is a part of me—it will never leave, not in this lifetime.”
Daadi fumed, but words failed her. She had long carried the burden of Kashish’s care, anxiously waiting for the day the court’s ruling would no longer bind Kashish to this house. At 25, Kashish would finally be free to leave, and Daadi was counting down the days.
****************
Rudra, aware that Kashish would resist sharing a vehicle with him, deliberately left for the office early. He texted Shekhar to inform him but left out the real reason for his early departure. Kashish and Shekhar later drove together. Kashish, clearly nervous, fidgeted with her sketches, checking them repeatedly. Shekhar noticed her unease.
“Tanuja won’t be asking for your designs today. Relax,” he said gently.
“Is it that obvious?” Kashish replied, her voice betraying her anxiety. “It’s my first job, and…”
Shekhar placed a reassuring hand on hers. “Everyone feels nervous on their first day. You’ll be fine.”
Kashish smiled, her nerves easing. “I’m lucky to have you guiding me through this.”
Shekhar beamed at her words of appreciation and proceeded to outline her week.
“Your first week is all about induction and skill development, according to the company’s policy for new hires.”
“All day?” Kashish asked.
“Yes, but you won’t be alone. There’s a new batch of designers joining today too. You’ll be trained together. You’re more experienced than most, but it’s a formality—like polishing a diamond to make it shine even brighter.”
Kashish chuckled. “You and your idioms.”
“Don’t knock my idioms,” Shekhar grinned. “That’s how I won Anjali over.”
Kashish laughed, “I know.”
When they reached the office, Shekhar introduced her to the induction manager responsible for training new employees. Kashish joined the group, and Shekhar got busy with his meetings.
Meanwhile, Rudra stood in his office, gazing down through the glass walls at the conference room where the induction was taking place. His eyes found Kashish, calm and composed among the other designers. He watched her intently, so absorbed that he didn’t notice Shekhar’s arrival.
Shekhar followed Rudra’s gaze, surprised by what he saw. The way Rudra looked at Kashish—it wasn’t just about seeking forgiveness. There was something deeper, something more intense.
“What’s got you so lost?” Shekhar asked, placing a hand on Rudra’s shoulder.
Rudra didn’t answer, deflecting the question. “Tanuja’s meeting us this afternoon. We need to formally introduce her to the designer she’s so impressed with.”
“I’ll make sure Kashish is ready,” Shekhar said.
Rudra quickly turned back to his desk, immersing himself in work.
“How about a coffee break?” Shekhar suggested, trying to lighten the mood. “Like old times? At the tapari (tea-stall)?”
“I don’t need one,” Rudra muttered, his tone dismissive.
That little tea stall outside the office— the tapari —held too many memories for Rudra. He and Shekhar used to visit often, back in the days when life was simpler. The old man, Ramu, always gave them an extra cream bun for free because they were his favorite customers.
Shekhar wasn’t giving up. He dragged Rudra by the arm.
“Come on, Rudra. I know you want one.”
“Bhai, we’re grown-ups now. Stop acting like a kid.”
Shekhar’s expression turned serious.
“What am I supposed to do? My childhood with you was cut off far too soon. I never got to relive those moments with you. Is it so wrong to want them back?”
Rudra felt a pang of guilt. The more he tried to erase the memories of his childhood, the more they seemed to creep back into his life since returning to India.
“Fine. Let’s go,” Rudra conceded, grabbing his jacket.
The two brothers walked to the tea stall, where Ramu’s son, Tipu, had taken over after his father’s passing. The tea was just as good, bringing back a flood of memories for Rudra. As they sipped their tea, Rudra’s phone rang, and he excused himself to take the call.
While Rudra was away, Kashish stepped out of the office for a break, a small wallet in hand. Spotting Shekhar at the stall, she joined him.
“Hey,” Shekhar greeted her, a little nervous. He knew Rudra was nearby and feared the inevitable confrontation between them.
“I’ll have a tea too. Tipu, one tea, please.”
Shekhar fidgeted, hoping to avoid any tension on their first day working together. “How long’s your break?”
“Thirty minutes,” Kashish replied, sipping her tea.
“Let’s hurry then,” Shekhar urged, trying to avoid Rudra and Kashish crossing paths.
They finished their tea quickly and turned to head back to the office. Just as they were leaving, Kashish’s anklet slipped off her foot and fell unnoticed to the ground. Rudra, who had been keeping his distance, silently observed the scene. He picked up the anklet, his fingers curling around the delicate silver piece. A part of him wanted to hand it to Shekhar to pass on to her, but another part of him—the part that longed for even a brief interaction with her—pushed him to call out.
“Kashish!” Rudra’s voice rang out.
Kashish’s heart jolted at the sound of his voice, his audacity to speak her name. She turned, her expression cold, Shekhar by her side, equally stunned.
Their eyes met, and Rudra stepped forward, holding out the anklet. His heart raced, his voice turning rough as he spoke.
“This is yours.”
Kashish’s eyes flickered down to the anklet before locking her icy gaze onto his again.
“Anything that you have touched can never belong to me—not even this.”
Without another word, she turned and walked away, leaving him standing there, her words like shards of glass in his chest.
Rudra’s hand clenched around the anklet, his gaze following her until she disappeared into the building. Shekhar felt the tension thickening and tried to diffuse the moment.
“Rudra—just let it go,” Shekhar urged softly, but Rudra was already walking away, his heart heavy with the weight of her hatred.
No words could soothe the raw wound she had just opened.