CHAPTER 31 #2
Inside her, something shattered. She felt betrayed. As if the life she thought she had carved out for herself, away from everyone, answerable to no one, had been nothing but an illusion. She thought she was free, but the truth was she had all these eyes on her. All the time.
Her head began to spin. All she wanted was to get away from there, anywhere, because her husband’s gaze hadn’t left her even once.
He hardly even blinked, like doing that would hide her away again from him.
Like he was still making a point to her that she was still his, and the distance and time had meant nothing.
Her body started to give in slowly. Her feet felt unsteady, her strength draining away.
Just then, the event manager returned, asking Avni and VK if they wanted to review or change a few arrangements. Avni turned toward Mishti to excuse herself and froze when she saw her swaying.
“Mishti—” she moved instinctively to hold her.
But Karan was faster.
His arm slid firmly around Mishti’s waist, possessively, as if through that single touch he had reclaimed control over their marriage. Over his wife.
Mishti collapsed into him, her head falling against his chest, her body going completely limp, standing only because Karan was holding her.
Avni panicked. “Oh my God…Mishti! What happened? Someone bring water!”
Karan didn’t wait for anyone.
He bent down and lifted her into his arms effortlessly, shocking Avni.
Rajat stepped in immediately, covering for his actions. “Yes… Karan, take her to her room. Please. Looks like she really needs some rest.”
His father, VK, Vishwanath K Mathur, intervened as well, placing a reassuring hand on Avni’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, beta,” he said gently. “Karan will take care of her.”
Avni hesitated, her eyes moving between Mishti’s unconscious face and Karan holding her far too naturally. Her jaw clenched as she watched him walk away with Mishti in his arms.
Something didn’t sit right. But before she could dwell on it, Rajat and VK gently guided her away to meet the event manager, not giving her the space to think further.
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Karan stepped into the room and shut the door behind him. This was his space. His master suite. He had brought her to his bedroom, not the room she had checked into.
He walked to the bed slowly, carefully, as if one wrong movement might undo this moment and she might vanish again.
When he lowered her onto the mattress, his hands did not leave her immediately.
One arm stayed around her back, the other under her knees, holding her weight for a second longer than necessary.
Her body was light. She had put down some weight and he knew why that happened.
She didn’t care for her health while in London.
She skipped meals, overworked, and hardly took care of her mental health.
Karan had his men who updated him on all this regularly, almost daily.
He eased her down, adjusted the pillow beneath her head, and straightened her short ethnic kurta that had bunched up on her waist, revealing her midriff. His fingers brushed her skin by accident. Karan stilled, but forced his thoughts to return.
His wife was finally here. Not in London, hidden behind oceans. She was here in his room, on his bed. That single truth felt like a healing in itself.
He straightened and took a step back, but his eyes never left her face. Her lashes rested softly against her cheeks, her lips slightly parted, her breathing shallow but steady.
For a long moment, he simply watched her. Then the past came crashing in. How the last eleven months since she had walked out of his life had turned his world upside down. His fists slowly curled at his sides.
The first four months had nearly destroyed him.
He had searched for her like a madman. There was no other word for it. Karan had torn through contacts, favours, networks that had never failed him before. Embassies. Travel records. He even hired private investigators, the kind of men who had found people who did not want to be found.
And still, Mishti could not be traced. She had literally disappeared from his world just like that. He trusted his sources to find her, but it was taking time, and his patience was wearing thin.
Every day without her had felt intolerable.
His anger had no direction, his worry no relief.
He had vented out his rage at his men, at systems, at himself.
He had walked the corridors of the Wadhwa mansion at night, restless, unable to sleep, unable to breathe inside a house that suddenly felt too big and unbearably silent.
When the staff at KW Capital started questioning, he had told them that she had gone abroad to care for a sick aunt.
He had repeated the same lie to everyone, from his business associates to distant relatives.
It looked convincing, but only he knew how badly that lie tasted.
Because he did not know where his wife was.
And he couldn’t imagine her ending up in any kind of problem because of this foolish act.
Then one day, four months after she vanished, her name surfaced.
In London. And surprisingly, at the same NGO which was founded by Rajat’s father, Vishwanath, also known as VK, there.
The man who had raised his little sister Avni like his own daughter, safeguarded her from the harsh reality of Karan’s life, would now have Karan’s wife Mishti, too under his wings.
Mishti had just given her job interview there for a position, and the NGO had hired her.
Mishti’s name had come out during one of the routine background checks that Karan did out of habit, to have eyes on everyone around his sister Avni.
It was his way of protecting his sister, ensuring that she was safe, even though he trusted Vishwanath completely.
When the report crossed his desk, he realised how cruel irony was.
Mishti had landed in the very place where he had hidden his sister all along.
His first instinct was to fly to London at once and bring her back. He had even stood up from his chair, already reaching for his phone, already planning how fast he could get to her. How quickly he could end this distance, this madness.
But then he had stopped. Not because he doubted her intentions.
That thought had never crossed his mind.
Mishti would never manipulate her way into Avni’s life.
She didn’t even know he had a sister, and even if now she did, there was no chance she could find out where she was and go there.
She would never play such games. But this was not just a coincidence either.
It was God’s play. The same God she prayed to so desperately.
The same God she whispered to when she thought no one was listening.
That God had placed her inside his family’s circle, unknowingly, safely, almost returning her to him, but without letting him touch her yet.
Karan had informed VK that very day who Mishti was, and the old man was stunned.
But Karan didn’t want Mishti to know who VK was, as he knew that the moment Mishti knew he was Rajat’s father, she might not want to work there, as it would again link her indirectly to Karan.
VK agreed to keep the secrecy. It was only Rajat, Abhimanyu and VK now who, apart from Karan, knew where Mishti was and they mutually decided that Avni should not know her identity either.
Not until Karan wanted to share it with her.
So now, every day, every week and every month that passed by, Karan knew where Mishti was. And still, he had not gone to her. Because she had wanted freedom. And for the first time in his life, he had chosen to give it to her.
He watched and protected his wife without her knowledge. Made sure she was safe, comfortable, untouched by anything that could harm her. She was still his wife after all, and he always protected what was his, even while staying away.
But the one thing that affected him during all this time was her lie. Mishti had lied to them there that she was an orphan, that she had no family, no past worth mentioning. Karan learnt it through VK, who had said it casually, without knowing how hard it would strike.
Karan had felt something inside him crack that day. It was a shame because he understood exactly why she had done that.
He had never given her a family. Never given her the right to claim one. Although he had married her, taken her into his house, into his life, he had left her alone. He had ignored her, used her for his revenge, even erased her when it suited him.
And now she had erased him in return. From his life.
From her identity. That had started to hurt and haunt him.
Even the Wadhwa mansion felt hollow without her presence and routine, making Karan wonder how he had lived there before her, burning with revenge, surviving on rage alone.
Now, even stepping there, without her living in it, felt unbearable.
Even after the revenge was done, he had no peace in his life. Almost every night, he had stared at the ceiling, wondering if she was safe. Every night, he had cursed himself for driving her away.
And now she lay here unconscious. Back within his reach. Although there was deep satisfaction, and his sense of control was returning, knowing she was here. But there was anger, too. Anger at her for leaving, disappearing and putting him through months of helplessness.
He reached out slowly and brushed a strand of hair away from her face. His fingers lingered for a fraction of a second before he pulled back sharply, as if reminding himself that touching her like this was not yet allowed.
But this time, he knew one thing with absolute certainty. He was not letting her disappear from his life again. Ever. He straightened and then quickly reached for the glass of water on the bedside table. It was time to wake up his sleeping princess.