CHAPTER 8
‘Anything that you have touched can never belong to me.’
Those words reverberated in Rudra’s mind. No one had ever affected him like this. She was still the same girl who had hurled a stone at him all those years ago, the same fire in her eyes, burning with a rage so fierce that it could scorch his very soul if he got too close. The intensity of it all was maddening. Did she even realize how deeply she had humiliated him? Not that anyone from his office had witnessed their heated exchange, but there were enough eyes around to notice the charged atmosphere between them. He sucked in a deep breath as a knock sounded on his door, forcing himself to appear composed.
“Come in,” he said, his voice cold, the fury barely contained beneath the surface.
Shekhar stepped inside, taking in his brother’s tense posture and the storm brewing in his eyes.
“I don’t want to discuss what happened a few minutes ago,” Rudra warned before Shekhar could begin his usual speech about giving Kashish time to adjust.
Shekhar studied Rudra’s scowl, recognizing the tight leash his brother had on his emotions. Calmly, he decided to shift the subject.
“Alright, let’s change the mood then. Daadi’s organizing a welcome party for you tomorrow evening.”
Rudra’s expression darkened further, his jaw tightening.
“She knows I hate those parties. I’m not interested in meeting our relatives. Tell her to cancel it.”
“Rudra, come on,” Shekhar said, his tone patient. “We both agreed to keep her happy, remember?”
“Except for this one thing, I’ve been doing everything she asks, Bhai,” Rudra replied, his frustration growing. “But I’m not doing this.”
Shekhar sighed. “It’s just a gathering, Rudra. What’s the big deal?”
“I’m not prepared.” Rudra’s voice was strained, his hands clenched into fists.
Shekhar had anticipated this reaction.
“It’s been 11 years, Rudra. Everyone has moved on from that incident. No one’s going to point fingers at you. In fact, our relatives are impressed with your success. You’ll only hear praise.”
Rudra’s expression didn’t soften.
“I don’t care about their praise or their criticism. I just don’t want to face people who will remind me of my past.”
Shekhar pressed on, trying to reason with him.
“No one’s focused on your past anymore.”
“That’s what you think,” Rudra retorted, his voice low and dangerous. “But the moment they see me, they won’t be able to stop themselves from feeling sorry for me. I don’t want their pity. Cancel the party before it’s too late.”
Without waiting for a response, Rudra walked out of the cabin, leaving Shekhar standing there, sighing in defeat. He knew he was in for a long, hard battle, stuck between two stubborn forces—Rudra and Kashish.
*******************
Later that evening, Kashish sat on her bed, staring at her bare ankle, the absence of her mother’s anklet a painful reminder of what she had just lost. That anklet was one of the few precious things she had taken from her childhood home before joining the Raheja family all those years ago. Her father had given it to her when he was alive, telling her to keep it safe as a cherished piece of her mother’s memory. And now, it was in his possession. She should have snatched it from him, not wasted time with those heavy words. Why did she always let her emotions get the better of her when he was around? She clenched her fist around the remaining anklet. No, she couldn’t let Rudra keep it. She couldn’t let him touch something so sacred to her. She had to get it back.
Determined, she stormed into Shekhar’s room later that evening.
“I need it back,” she said, her voice tense.
Shekhar looked up, confused. “What?”
“The anklet,” she clarified, her frustration barely contained.
Understanding dawned on Shekhar. “Why didn’t you just take it when he offered it to you?”
“That’s not the point now,” she snapped, clearly not in the mood for a lecture.
“It is the point,” Shekhar said, standing up from his chair. “Do you realize how much it must have hurt him when you threw it back in his face like that? And in front of people, no less?”
“Please, Shekhar, I don’t want to discuss what happened,” she interrupted, trying to keep the conversation focused.
“No, Kashish,” he countered firmly. “You need to think before you act. You can’t just lash out without considering the consequences.”
“Fine! I made a mistake,” she admitted through gritted teeth. “Now will you help me get it back?”
Shekhar thought for a moment, then shook his head. “Sorry, that’s between you and him now. I’m not taking sides. You lost it, and if you want it back, you’ll have to face him yourself.”
Kashish’s heart sank. The thought of walking into Rudra’s room and asking him for the anklet made her stomach churn. The last thing she wanted was another confrontation with him.
“I can’t do that,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “I can’t even stand being in the same room with him, let alone ask for something.”
“Then forget about the anklet,” Shekhar replied simply. “Buy a new one.”
“It’s my mother’s!” she shouted, the anger flaring up again.
“Then go get it from him. It’s that simple.”
“Fine,” she snapped, turning away. “I’ll ask Anju to do it.”
Shekhar shrugged. If Anjali decided to help, that would be her choice, but he wasn’t going to get involved in this battle. Kashish would have to confront Rudra sooner or later, whether she liked it or not.
*******************
“What? Me? No, Kashish, I can’t ask him that,” Anjali replied, her voice firm.
Kashish had spent the last few hours trying to convince Anjali, who was engrossed in organizing the welcome party. Despite Rudra making it clear to Daadi that he wanted the event canceled, she had refused. Canceling now would be a humiliation, and Daadi had pleaded with Rudra until he reluctantly agreed to attend, sacrificing his own wishes.
Kashish’s desperation flared. “Anju, you know why I need it back. It’s my mother’s. The only piece of her I have.”
Anjali sighed in disappointment, torn between her friend’s plea and the obvious difficulty of the situation. “Fine. I’ll get it from Rudra—this time. But please, Kashish, act wisely from now on.”
Relief washed over Kashish. “I lose my common sense when he’s around. I can’t help it. Anyway, nice saree.”
Anjali smiled softly. “Shekhar bought it for me last month. Remember?”
Kashish nodded, absentmindedly.
“What are you wearing tomorrow?” Anjali asked. “You should wear that maroon dress.”
“I’m not coming to the party,” Kashish interrupted, her tone sharp.
Anjali wasn’t surprised but sighed in frustration.
“Kashish, we live in the same house, the same family.”
“This is not my home. This is not my family,” Kashish shot back. “Apart from you and Shekhar, no one here is part of my life. And I’m certainly not attending a party to welcome him.”
Anjali sighed again. These two were impossible.
“Fine, I’ll try to get your anklet from him when he returns,” Anjali said. She then added mockingly, “Should I wash it in boiled water to rid it of his touch too?”
Kashish glared at her, not amused. “No, thanks. I’ll handle that myself,” she replied before pausing. “And it’s not funny, Anju.”
Anjali’s smile faded. “I know. I’ll get it for you, don’t worry.”
Kashish gave a weak smile and left for her room, determined to distance herself from everything related to tomorrow’s party.
******************
Later that night, Rudra was back in his room, about to lie down, when Anjali knocked and walked in. Her unexpected visit caught him off guard; their conversations had always been minimal, at best.
“Bhabhi,” he said, surprised. “What brings you here?”
Anjali hesitated, clearly uncomfortable. “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”
“Not at all,” Rudra replied, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “What is it?”
Anjali fidgeted slightly. “It’s about the anklet... Kashish’s anklet. She needs it back, and she sent me to ask you. Can I have it?”
Rudra’s expression hardened as the memory of Kashish’s cutting words came rushing back: “Anything that you have touched can never be mine.” His fingers tightened into a fist, recalling how deeply her words had stung. He walked to the closet, retrieving the anklet from the drawer. Holding it in his hand, the sting of her rejection returned.
Turning to face Anjali, his voice low but firm, he said, “Tell her to come and take it herself.”
Anjali blinked in disbelief. Had she heard that correctly? Rudra had always been indifferent to Kashish’s presence, just as she was to his. What had changed now? Shekhar had already told her about Kashish’s outburst earlier. Clearly, Kashish had wounded his pride deeper than anyone realized.
“Alright,” Anjali muttered, sensing the tension in the room as she left to find Kashish.
*****************
“What?” Kashish nearly exploded when she heard the news.
“Yes, you heard me right,” Anjali replied, trying to calm her down. “He wants you to come get it yourself.”
Kashish’s blood boiled. How dare he?
“Kashish, I understand you’re angry, but he’s right in a way. Why would he give it to me? You humiliated him in public. If you really want the anklet back, you’ll have to ask for it yourself.”
Kashish didn’t wait for another word. She marched straight to Rudra’s room, her fury driving her every step. Did he really have the nerve to demand a conversation with her? She knew he was trying to build some sort of formal connection, but she wasn’t having any of it. He had already ruined too much of her life. If he thought she would fall into any kind of civil relationship with him, he was sorely mistaken.
She stormed into Rudra’s room without hesitation. He was calmly sitting in his recliner, typing on his laptop. The anklet was laid out on the table in front of him, clearly displayed.
That was it. Without a word, she strode forward and reached for the anklet, but the moment her fingers touched it, Rudra’s hand gripped her wrist.
Time seemed to stop.
For the first time in years, he had touched her, and the intensity of that moment sent a ripple of pain through him. He had imagined this—what it would feel like to finally reach out and hold her, to feel the fury in her gaze, to know he was the source of her rage. Her eyes burned into him, black and furious, as if he had committed yet another crime. But Rudra remained seated, his hand still gripping her wrist, his eyes never leaving hers.
“You don’t seem to grasp office etiquettes,” Rudra said, his voice dark and commanding. “Whatever statement you made today in the office premises hit me right here.” He tapped his forehead with his free hand. “You can throw insults at me all you want, but not where my respect and reputation are at stake—my office. That’s non-negotiable.”
Kashish’s breath caught at his tone. She hadn’t expected him to assert such authority, to speak to her like this. She had every right to be furious with him for what he had done to her father, but this—this wasn’t about the past anymore. She had chosen to enter his world, to work in his office, and now she had to face the consequences of her own decisions.
Rudra stood, still holding her wrist.
“There, you’re my employee, and no matter how much you despise me, you need to control it. I won’t allow you to disrespect me in front of others. If you ever raise your voice at me in public again, consider yourself fired.”
He released her wrist slowly, his fingers pointing at his chest.
“If you want to punish me, aim for my heart where it hurts the most.” He paused before gesturing toward his head. “Not my head,” he added.
Kashish felt the walls closing in around her, suffocating her with each passing second. She jerked her hand free, gripping the anklet tightly in her fist. Struggling to catch her breath, she spun on her heel and hurried out of the room, his words still echoing in the silence behind her.