CHAPTER 21
Kashish shivered in the car, her entire body trembling from the shock of everything that had happened. Rudra sat beside her, guilt gnawing at him as he watched her in silence. This was all because of him—again.
“Mohan, turn on the heater,” Rudra ordered.
Mohan nodded, turning off the air conditioning and switching on the heater. But the warmth in the car did little to melt the icy silence between them. Kashish remained distant, her gaze fixed on the window, her mind swirling with a thousand thoughts. It was the quiet before the storm, and Rudra knew it well. He clenched his fists, staring at the road ahead. Why hadn’t Daadi waited? Why had she rushed to blame Kashish and hand her over to the police? If only she had waited until he regained consciousness and explained the truth, none of this would’ve happened.
The thought of Kashish spending the last few hours in police station, suffering because of his actions, twisted something deep inside him. He had tried to lift the darkness from her heart, to end the suffocating hatred between them, but instead, he had made things worse.
At least Kashish hadn’t ended up spending the night there- he would never have forgiven himself for that. He had been trying so hard to make things better between them, to create some small spark of warmth in her heart. And now this had happened.
He blamed himself completely. Why had he picked up that knife? It wasn’t meant to scare her - none of it had been an act. He had just been so tired, so deeply exhausted by the wall of hatred she kept building between them. In that moment, he’d wanted to end it all - to end his own life. But he had never meant for Kashish to be blamed for it. Running his fingers through his hair in frustration, Rudra realized he had only made everything worse.
The car pulled into Raheja Mansion. Mohan stepped out and opened Kashish’s door. Rudra followed; his own pain forgotten as his concern for Kashish overshadowed the bleeding wound in his chest. The stitches had torn open, his shirt soaked with fresh blood, but he didn’t care.
As they entered the house, Daadi was waiting. She stormed toward him, her voice sharp with anger.
“You brought her back? Rudra, why can’t you understand?” Daadi shouted, her eyes filled with frustration.
Rudra raised his hand, silencing her. “Not now, Daadi,” he said.
Anjali rushed to Kashish, wrapping her arms around her in an attempt to comfort, but Kashish remained unmoved, cold to everyone around her. Rudra gestured for Anjali to take her to her room, and she obeyed, leading the silent Kashish away.
Shekhar hurried over, his eyes widening in horror as he noticed the blood soaking Rudra’s shirt.
“Rudra, you’re bleeding again. Your stitches have opened!” he exclaimed, quickly ushering him toward his room.
The doctor arrived, re-stitching the wound and bandaging his chest again.
“Mr. Raheja, you need rest. Any more strain on your body, and this will only get worse,” the doctor warned, but Rudra barely acknowledged him, lost in his thoughts.
Grabbing his phone, he dialed his lawyer, Roy.
“Is everything taken care of?” Rudra asked, ignoring Daadi’s protests.
Roy provided a quick update, and Rudra’s face softened slightly. “Good. Keep me posted, and make sure my statement is filed if necessary.”
Hanging up, he turned to Daadi, his eyes blazing with fury. “Why didn’t you wait for me to wake up? Have you seen her? She’s shaking, Daadi. This whole mess has broken her,” he snapped, his voice thick with anger.
Daadi’s face twisted in disbelief. “Have you seen yourself, Rudra? You were stabbed, bleeding! And you expect me to worry about her when you were lying there unconscious?” she shot back, her voice cracking with emotion. “She’s just shivering, but you... you were covered in blood, Rudra. I thought I had lost you.”
Rudra’s frustration surged. He turned to Anjali, who had just re-entered the room.
“How is she?” he asked, his voice softer but still tense.
Anjali sighed. “She’s cold, refusing to eat, and won’t talk to anyone. I don’t know what’s going on in her head, but if she doesn’t open up soon, I’m worried about her health.”
Rudra’s chest tightened at the thought of Kashish suffering alone. “Doctor, can you check on her?”
The doctor nodded and quickly went to Kashish’s room with Anjali. They returned a few minutes later, and Anjali’s face was grim. “She’s not letting anyone near her. She won’t even let the doctor examine her.”
Rudra couldn’t take it any longer. Ignoring the protests of his own body, he stood up, his resolve hardening. Without another word, he left the room, heading straight for Kashish.
Daadi’s disapproval was palpable, but Shekhar stepped in, trying to calm her.
“Daadi, you know how stubborn he is. Anything related to Kashish, he won’t rest until it’s resolved. This is between them now. We have to trust him.”
Daadi fumed, but deep down, she knew Shekhar was right. Keeping Rudra away from Kashish might only drive him further away from her, something she couldn’t bear.
Rudra entered Kashish’s room. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, her knees drawn to her chest, her face buried in her arms. Anjali and Shekhar followed him inside, but Rudra stopped them with a glance.
“Leave us alone,” he said, his voice low but commanding.
Shekhar and Anjali exchanged uneasy glances before quietly leaving the room, uncertain if it was the right decision but knowing Rudra’s determination would only worsen if they didn’t.
Kashish sensed his presence but didn’t move. She remained as cold and distant as ever. Rudra swallowed hard, his heart heavy with regret and concern as he stepped closer. He knew breaking through to her wouldn’t be easy, but he had to try. There was too much left unsaid, too much pain that needed to be healed—on both sides.
Rudra stepped toward the bed and sat directly across from her. Her eyes were bloodshot, her breath uneven, and she looked like she had been drowning in her own emotions.
“Did they hurt you?” His voice was low, simmering with barely contained rage.
Kashish moved to get down from the bed, but Rudra gripped her arm and pulled her back.
“You need to talk to me, Kashish,” he growled. “Ignore the family if you want, but you can’t ignore me.”
She yanked her arm free from his hold, her eyes blazing with fury.
“What do you want to hear?” she spat. “How your Daadi framed me? How the police dragged me to the station like a criminal? How they interrogated me relentlessly, every person there looking at me with disgust?” Her voice broke, tears spilling over.
“You know what they said?” she continued, her tone trembling with a bitter edge. “They said I’d been waiting for this moment—waiting my whole life to kill Rudra Raheja. Do you know what it feels like to be accused of something you didn’t do?”
Rudra’s mind flashed back to his own torment 11 years ago, the same accusations he had faced. The only difference? He had caused that tragedy. But Kashish? She was innocent. She didn’t stab him, not even by accident.
“But do you know what’s even more surprising?” Her voice softened, trembling as she looked away, unable to meet his eyes. “When everything was turning against me, all I could think about was how you must have felt 11 years ago after that accident.”
Her words hit him like a punch to the gut, knocking the breath out of him. Kashish took a shaky breath, her tone quieter, more reflective.
“Shekhar kept telling me for years that you didn’t mean it, that it was a tragic accident, but nothing changed my opinion of you. I only ever saw you as my father’s murderer. But now...” Her voice faltered, her gaze finally lifting to meet his.
“This one incident... it changed everything, Rudra. It twisted everything I thought I knew.”
Rudra was speechless, her confession unraveling him in ways he hadn’t expected.
“All I could think about while they questioned me were your last words. I should’ve been fighting to defend myself, to prove I didn’t stab you, but instead, I kept imagining the 16-year-old Rudra Raheja, being treated worse than me all those years ago.”
Rudra flinched. He didn’t want to relive those dark memories, but Kashish kept going, her emotions spilling over.
“You lost your family’s trust, your dignity, you were… you were molested , Rudra!” She almost choked on the word, her voice cracking with a mixture of anger and disbelief. “All of that haunted me, even though I wasn’t responsible for any of it.”
“For the first time in my life, I felt something for you that wasn’t hatred. I felt pity, and I hate it.” She clutched his collar, her eyes wild with fury.
“When did you start controlling my mind like this?” she shouted, her voice breaking. “Since when?”
Rudra couldn’t find the words. He didn’t know what to make of her feelings—anger, confusion, and pity all intertwined, fighting for dominance.
“But this has to stop,” she snapped, her voice hardening. “I can’t let myself feel sorry for you. If I forgive you, I’ll be betraying my father’s memory, and I’ll never do that. Never .”
Rudra’s heart sank, her words slicing through him like a blade. She would never forgive him? The ground seemed to shift beneath him as he realized just how deeply her hatred ran.
“If I stay here,” she continued, her voice trembling, “I’ll start softening toward you, and I can’t let that happen. I’m leaving, Rudra. I can’t stay under the same roof as you, or I’ll lose the one thing that keeps me going—my hatred for you.”
Kashish hurried to the closet, yanking her clothes out and throwing them on the bed. Rudra watched, horrified, as she began packing with desperate determination. She was leaving because she was terrified her hatred would dissolve if she stayed near him. His presence was no longer fueling her anger—it was weakening her resolve.
Without thinking, Rudra stormed toward her, spinning her around with a forceful grip. She tried to struggle, but his hold was too strong.
Her tear-filled eyes met his furious gaze.
“The only person who should leave this house is me , not you,” he snarled, his voice tight with emotion. “I’ll leave tomorrow so that you can hold on to your hatred for me. If that’s what brings peace to your father’s soul, then so be it.”
Anger flared in her eyes again.
“This is your home, your family,” she retorted. “I won’t be the reason you’re isolated from them. And stop making decisions for me! I know what I need to do, and I know where I need to go.”
“The court has ordered you to stay here until you turn 25. You can’t disobey those orders,” Rudra countered. “But I’ll leave. Tomorrow morning, I’ll be gone.”
He didn’t want to go. The very thought of leaving her made his chest tighten painfully. Kashish had always been his reason to keep going, even if she didn’t know it. He had lived for the day when she might forgive him, but now he knew that day would never come. And if staying meant causing her more pain, then he would sacrifice his own heart to give her peace.
He released her, his heart breaking with every step as he walked out of the room, leaving her crumpled on the floor, surrounded by the clothes she had intended to pack. Kashish sobbed, her mind torn between anger, guilt, and confusion. Why had he agreed so easily to leave? Why had he bound her with the court’s orders, trapping her here while he walked away? Was she truly being selfish by asking him to leave his own family?
Meanwhile, Rudra locked himself in his room, leaning against the door. He couldn’t afford to be weak now. He had to stay strong, for her. He had promised himself that he would solve every problem in her life, and he would keep that promise, even if it meant doing so from afar. She would never know the sacrifices he would make for her—but he would always be there, in the shadows, watching over her, even if it meant fading from her world forever.