Sold to the Thakur's

THE REAL TRUTH

HAPPY READING??

______________________

Yashoda's heart clenched after hearing Rivan's words. For a fleeting second, she had been happy happy that he was finally talking to her after decades of silence. But that happiness shattered the moment she realized what he was talking about.

Pain.

Nothing but pain.

After all these years, when he finally spoke, it was not about forgiveness, not about healing only wounds that had never closed.

"We can't change anything now, Mrs. Thakur," he said.

There were no emotions in his voice. No anger. No sadness. Just emptiness. As if the man standing in front of her had already died from the inside.

Indeed... he is dead from inside, Yashoda thought, her chest tightening.

Rivan continued, his lips curling into a hollow scoff.

"What did Mr. Thakur tell you about Devyani's past?" he asked coldly. "Must be he removed my existence and fed you a cleaner story."

His eyes hardened.

"I know," he went on, "he tried his best to protect me. But he failed."

A pause.

"No worries," he said quietly. "Let me finish what's left."

Those words were worse than a scream.

Before Yashoda could stop him before she could even find her voice Rivan stepped past her. He moved away without looking back, as if her presence no longer mattered, as if the past standing behind him had no power over his future.

Yashoda turned slowly, watching his retreating figure.

Her hands trembled.

Rivan walked in and finally calmed himself, the storm inside him pushed somewhere deep where it could no longer spill out. He sat down on the couch slowly, as if his body weighed more than his soul.

"Come," he said quietly. "Sit. All of you."

They froze.

"You all complain that Rivan never talks," he continued, leaning back, his voice oddly composed. "That Rivan is always angry. But no... today Rivan will talk."

A smile tugged at his lips but it was a sad, broken smile, the kind that never reaches the eyes.

The words stuck in his throat.

For a moment, he couldn't speak. His jaw tightened, his chest rising as he inhaled one long, deep breath then another.

Reyansh's patience snapped.

"I don't know whatever the fuck you want to say," he said harshly, standing up, "but before that, clean your wounds. You're fucking bleeding, Rivan."

Rivan glanced down at himself, at the blood seeping through the fabric as if it were nothing worth noticing.

"This is normal for me," he said flatly.

"Stop overacting!" Reyansh barked. "Have you lost your mind? Just get the hell up!"

Rivan's eyes finally lifted, sharp and unwavering.

"If I don't talk now," he said slowly, every word cutting deep, "then I'll never talk."

The room fell silent.

Jinal's eyes filled with tears as she stepped forward, her voice breaking.

"Bhai... please. We can't see you like this."

Rivan looked at her then really looked at her and for a second, something cracked. His fists clenched, knuckles white, as if he were holding himself together by force alone.

He swallowed hard.

"Sit," he repeated, softer this time.

Because this wasn't a confession anymore.

It was a farewell wrapped in words.

Everyone froze.

They all knew one truth about Rivan Thakur

Three months ago, after returning from Mumbai, I was in my room," Rivan began. His voice was steady, almost emotionless. Too steady. "Devyani was sleeping. It was late at night."

He looked ahead, not at anyone in particular.

"I was searching for some papers when I found them maa's house papers."

A pause.

"Mrs. Vasundhara Virendra Thakur's house."

The room went still.

"I read them," he continued, "and then I stopped. I was... frozen." His lips curved faintly. "The house was transferred to Devyani."

Jinal inhaled sharply.

"But it didn't hurt," Rivan said, almost surprised by his own honesty. "After all, she is mine. Whatever is mine... is hers."

His fingers tightened against the couch.

"But then it hit me why Devyani?" His jaw clenched. "There had to be something more."

He exhaled slowly.

"It broke me too," he admitted. "Because I had asked for that house for years. He never agreed. And then suddenly... he gives it to Devyani. Just like that." A bitter smile appeared. "Strange, right?"

No one spoke.

"That was the moment," Rivan went on, "when I felt something was missing. Something hidden. Something no one wanted me to see."

His eyes darkened.

"First, he forced me to accept this marriage. Then he made a deal for a random girl." His voice sharpened. "And then he added a clause in the contract."

Reyansh stiffened.

"If we divorced before one year," Rivan said quietly, "the house would still belong to Devyani."

Silence.

"It became clear to me then," he said. "He never wanted me to leave Devyani."

Rivan finally turned to them, his gaze piercing.

"But the question is—"

His voice dropped to a whisper that echoed louder than a scream.

"Why?"

The air felt heavy, suffocating.

Because everyone in that room sensed it now

The truth Rivan was walking toward was not just painful.

It was dangerous.

Rivan's fingers curled slowly, his knuckles whitening as he continued.

"Then Arav called me," he said.

His voice lowered, darker now.

"He told me Devyani's past is... weird."

A pause.

"According to records, she was born after the marriage. Before that there is no existence of her."

Reyansh's jaw tightened.

"How?" Rivan asked, his eyes hollow. "How could it be possible that a person has no past at all? No school records. No childhood photos. No neighbors. Nothing."

He laughed once dry, broken.

"That night... I felt something terrible. I thought about everything. I tried to connect every thread." His head shook slowly. "But there was no clue."

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

"Then I started noticing things I had ignored before."

His voice grew quieter. "Her innocence. Her childish behavior. The way she doesn't understand the world."

His eyes flickered, haunted.

"No knowledge of anything. Afraid of the lift. No understanding of her own body. No sense of boundaries." He swallowed hard. "Like a girl who was... just born."

Silence wrapped the room.

"How is that possible?" he whispered. "A grown woman with the mind of someone only a few days old."

Rivan straightened.

"That's when I knew I couldn't stay in the haveli." His gaze hardened with resolve. "Whatever the truth was, it wasn't going to come to me."

"So I left," he said. "To search."

His eyes met theirs one by one.

"And what I found..."

His voice dropped, heavy with unspoken horror.

"The night that still hunts me," Rivan said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper, "the past I tried to bury... the past I thought I could forget..."

He lifted his eyes.

A pause.

"The past I thought I had escaped," he continued, his voice breaking for the first time, "became my wife."

Everyone sat frozen.

No one breathed.

Yashoda's hands flew to her mouth, her body trembling. In that moment, everything fell into place. The pieces she had avoided, the truths she had refused to see they all aligned with cruel clarity.

Now I understand, she thought.

Now she understood why Devyani had always been more precious to Virendra than Aadhya. Why she had been protected at all costs. Why Rivan had been pushed, forced, silenced.

Her eyes slowly moved to Virendra.

And she knew.

This wasn't a theory.

This was the truth.

Her lips trembled, the words catching painfully in her throat. Barely audible, she whispered,

"That means... Devyani is that same child?"

Rivan's gaze stopped on her.

For a moment, he only looked at her really looked at her as if weighing decades of silence against one truth.

He didn't raise his voice.

He didn't explain.

He only whispered,

"Yes."

Yashoda's knees weakened. The past she had locked away had come back to claim its place and this time, it was wearing the name Devyani Thakur.

And somewhere in that suffocating silence, one horrifying realization settled into everyone's mind:

This marriage was never a coincidence.

It was a consequence

Rivan stopped.

Before the silence could break, Virendra spoke.

"No need, Rivan," he said heavily. "Let me tell it."

Rivan didn't argue.

He didn't speak.

Because words had already shattered him.

His fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. His eyes lowered to the floor, as if looking up would finally break him beyond repair.

Virendra took a shaky breath.

"So... the story begins when I married Vasundhara," he said. "I didn't know then... that she was already pregnant."

The room held its breath.

"The child was Ritish Roy's," Virendra continued. "I found out later."

Rivan's jaw tightened.

"I was broken," Virendra admitted. "She told me it was an accident. That she was drunk. And I..." his voice cracked, "...I trusted her."

He swallowed hard.

Rivan's fists clenched tighter.

His eyes glistened, but he didn't let a single tear fall. He just kept his gaze lowered, absorbing every word like punishment.

"Then Aditya and Aadhya were born," Virendra went on. "For some time... we were happy. Truly happy."

A bitter smile touched his lips.

"But then Ritish entered our lives again."

The air grew heavier.

"He created misunderstandings between us," Virendra said. "Poisoned small things. Turned love into doubt." His voice hardened. "One day, Vasundhara and I had a massive fight."

His shoulders slumped.

"In anger... I said something unforgivable." Tears welled up in his eyes.

"I told her that I had accepted her even though she was pregnant with another man's child."

His voice broke.

"Yes," he said hoarsely. "I was wrong."

A tear slipped down his cheek.

"It was anger. Nothing else. But it was still my mistake."

Virendra clenched his jaw.

"She thought I hated Rivan," he whispered. "That I could never accept him."

Yashoda's breath hitched.

"At that time," Virendra continued, "Yashoda was my secretary."

Yashoda stiffened.

"And Ritish," his voice filled with venom, "spread rumors that I was having an affair with her."

Rivan's head snapped up for a second, then dropped again.

"I tried," Virendra said desperately. "I tried to explain everything to Vasundhara. But she never listened. She trusted him."

His hands trembled.

"She believed I cheated on her," he said. "But I didn't. I never had any affair with Yashoda. Never."

He turned slightly toward Yashoda.

"She was just my secretary. That's all." His voice softened painfully. "She understood me... better than anyone."

Yashoda's eyes filled with tears.

"One day," Virendra continued, "Vasundhara came to the office and created a scene."

The room froze.

"That was when Yashoda found out about the rumors." He exhaled sharply. "She apologized to Vasundhara... and resigned."

Yashoda closed her eyes.

"But Vasundhara..." Virendra whispered, "...was being manipulated by Ritish. I didn't even know she was getting all her information from him."

His eyes darkened with regret and rage.

"If I had known," he said through clenched teeth, "I would have killed him that very day."

Silence crashed over the room.

Rivan still hadn't spoken.

But the way his hands trembled told everyone

The truth hadn't healed him.

It had only reopened wounds that were never allowed to bleed.

"Things only got worse after Yashoda resigned," Virendra continued, his voice heavy with regret. "The fights... they increased."

He closed his eyes for a moment.

"She thought I was getting angry because Yashoda left," he said. "But that was never the reason. Never."

Rivan's jaw tightened.

"That day," Virendra went on, "when in anger I said that line about Rivan being someone else's child..." His voice cracked. "She started keeping her distance from me."

His hands trembled.

"I didn't even know that poisonous thoughts were being fed into her mind," he whispered.

He looked at Rivan then, his eyes filled with unbearable guilt.

"And Rivan..." Virendra said softly, "he slowly started maintaining distance too. He thought I was hurting Vasundhara."

Rivan's throat tightened.

"She cried every night," Virendra said, tears spilling freely now. "And I didn't even know."

The room felt like it was suffocating.

"He started hating me," Virendra admitted, his voice breaking completely. "Your own father."

Rivan's fists clenched again but this time, they trembled.

"One day," Virendra continued, "I found out that she had met Ritish."

His eyes hardened.

"It angered me," he said. "Because I knew what kind of bastard Ritish is. A cheap, manipulative man."

His voice rose slightly.

A sharp inhale echoed through the room.

"That was the moment," Virendra said hoarsely, "when Rivan saw us."

Rivan's breathing turned uneven.

"He assumed," Virendra whispered, "that I abused her. That I hit her."

Silence swallowed the room.

"And that night," Virendra said, his voice barely holding together, "she took him... and left the haveli."

His head dropped.

"It was the same night," he said quietly, "when Devyani's mother ran away from her house."

A pause.

"She was pregnant with Devyani."

The truth slammed into everyone like a cruel storm.

Two women ran.

Two children were marked by that night.

And one lie had destroyed an entire family without anyone realizing it until it was far too late.

Virendra's voice started trembling now, the weight of that night finally crushing him.

"Vasundhara was driving," he said hoarsely. "And I... I ran after her in my car. I was panicking." His hands shook. "Only one thought was screaming inside my head that she would hurt herself."

Rivan's breath hitched.

"Then suddenly," Virendra continued, eyes darkening with horror, "Ritish came."

Everyone stiffened.

"He shot Vasundhara."

The words fell like gunfire again.

"The bullet hit her," Virendra said, his voice breaking, "and the impact unbalanced the car."

Rivan's head snapped up.

"RIVAN ..." Virendra looked at his son, his eyes full of unbearable pain. " RIVAN ried to straighten the steering wheel."

Rivan's lips parted slightly.

"You were just a child," Virendra whispered. "You were trying to save your mother."

Tears slid down his face.

"But the car... it lost control."

The room felt frozen in time.

"And you hit her," Virendra said, his voice barely audible. "Devyani's mother."

A sharp breath escaped Yashoda's mouth.

"She screamed," Virendra continued. "You screamed. You were panicking."

Rivan's body stiffened, memories clawing their way back to the surface.

"I stopped my car," Virendra said. "But my body... it wouldn't move."

He clenched his fists.

"On one side," he whispered, "was Vasundhara."

His voice cracked.

"And on the other side... was a pregnant woman. Screaming in pain."

Silence swallowed the room.

"I chose my wife," Virendra admitted, his voice filled with self-loathing. "I ran to Vasundhara."

Rivan's eyes filled, but he still didn't cry.

"She was.....," Virendra said flatly. "No emotions. No breath." His lips trembled. "The bullet had gone straight through her brain."

Jinal sobbed softly.

"Rivan was panicked," Virendra continued. "He thought... I killed her."

Rivan's breathing grew uneven.

"He knew I was chasing her," Virendra said. "So in his mind... I became the murderer."

Virendra closed his eyes.

"He were screaming," he whispered. "Standing near his mother's body."

Then his voice broke completely.

"And nearby... a pregnant woman was screaming for help."

He looked down at his trembling hands.

"I stood there helpless," he said. "I didn't know what to do."

A tear dropped onto the floor.

"Then I ran to her," he said. "And she held my hand."

The room leaned in.

"She said, 'Save my daughter.'" Virendra's voice shattered. "'Please... keep her away from her father. I'm begging you. Save my daughter.'"

Virendra inhaled sharply.

"I stood there helpless," he repeated. "But I had no choice."

His eyes lifted, haunted.

"I had to save her."

And in that moment, everyone understood

That night didn't just take lives.

It created Devyani.

"So I took both of them to the hospital," Virendra continued, his voice hollow, as if every word was tearing something out of him.

"We reached there."

Rivan stood there emotionless.

Not a single tear. Not a single word.

"He didn't say anything to me," Virendra said softly. "He just... blamed me. For something I didn't do."

Virendra's throat tightened.

"And I accepted it," he whispered. "Because I couldn't tell him the truth. I couldn't tell him that he was not my blood."

Rivan's fingers trembled.

"I couldn't let him feel that he had no one left," Virendra said, pain etched into every line of his face. "Not when his world had already collapsed."

He swallowed hard.

"Before going into the operation theatre," he continued, "Devyani's mother held my hand."

His eyes filled.

"She was crying. Begging." His voice broke.

"'Please... keep my daughter safe.'"

A tear slipped down his cheek.

"She begged me like a broken mother," Virendra whispered. "And I promised her."

His voice trembled violently.

Silence pressed heavily on the room.

"After that," Virendra said, wiping his tears with shaking hands, "I went to Vasundhara."

He let out a broken laugh.

"Even though I knew there was no chance," he said. "I still prayed. Maybe... maybe some miracle would happen."

His chest rose unevenly.

"I stood there with tears in my eyes," he whispered. "Begging God for something I knew I couldn't have."

Then his voice shattered completely.

"And when the doctor came out and said, 'Sorry, Mr. Thakur...'"

He stopped.

Everything in him seemed to collapse.

"I felt dead from inside," Virendra said hoarsely. "Everything went blank."

He pressed a hand to his chest.

"My love," he whispered.

"My life."

"...everything was dead."

The room sat in stunned silence.

And for the first time, they all understood

Virendra Thakur had not survived that night.

He had only continued breathing.

"Then... Rivan was missing."

Virendra's voice shook.

"I panicked. I was already broken—completely shattered. And his absence made me even more scared."

He closed his eyes, pain etched deep.

"I searched for him the whole night. Every road. Every corner."

His fists tightened.

"And in the morning... we found him."

Rivan stood randomly on the road.

Emotionless.

Like his soul had already left his body.

"We performed Vasundhara's funeral," Virendra continued. "And in my grief... I forgot about Devyani."

Yashoda's breath hitched.

"I forgot the promise I had made," Virendra said in shame. "The promise to save her daughter."

His shoulders slumped.

"After a few days, Baba tried to make me understand. He said locking myself in one room and drinking endlessly wouldn't bring her back."

A bitter laugh escaped him.

"But I didn't listen."

"I spent most of my time in my room," he confessed. "Drinking without any sense."

Tears filled his eyes.

"I didn't take care of Rivan," he said softly. "Not even Aadhya or Aditya."

Silence.

"And Rivan..." Virendra's voice broke. "He took care of them."

Even though he was just a child himself.

"He became their protector," Virendra whispered. "He raised his siblings while I was lost in my grief."

His breath trembled.

"Slowly... he started distancing himself from me."

A pause.

"Not just from me," he said. "From the entire world."

The room felt heavy.

"Slowly, slowly... he started becoming dangerous."

The word echoed.

"One day," Virendra said quietly, "while passing by his room..."

He swallowed hard.

"I saw him using blades on his own body."

Gasps filled the room.

"I was shocked. I asked him what he was doing."

His voice cracked.

"But he didn't answer."

Virendra looked down, broken.

"He stopped calling me Papa," he whispered. "He started calling me Mr. Thakur."

That single change destroyed him.

"It shattered me," Virendra admitted. "Completely."

He wiped his tears.

"But I never blamed him," he said softly. "For anything."

Because deep inside, he knew

"He was just a child."

Virendra took a long breath, steadying himself before continuing.

"Then... I changed myself," he said quietly. "Because I couldn't ruin my children's lives anymore."

His eyes softened for a moment.

"Aaradhya was too small," he whispered. "Too innocent."

He paused.

"And then I remembered Devyani's mother," Virendra said, shame filling his voice. "The promise I had completely forgotten."

Yashoda stiffened.

"I went to the hospital to ask about her," he continued. "To find out what happened."

His jaw tightened.

"There, someone told me that the child's father had come and taken the baby."

A flicker of hope died in his eyes.

"So I searched for him," Virendra said. "I found Hariram's house after gathering information."

The room leaned in.

"But he told me he had lost the child too," Virendra said hollowly. "Even after taking her back."

His voice cracked.

"And in that moment, I felt like I couldn't even keep one promise."

His shoulders sagged.

"He asked me for money," Virendra continued. "Out of pity, I gave it to him."

A bitter smile crossed his lips.

"I even told him to return it," he said softly, "even though I had already decided I would never take it back."

He exhaled slowly.

"While coming back," Virendra said, "I felt unbearable guilt for that woman... and that child."

His eyes glistened.

"If Ritish had never entered our lives," he whispered, "three lives would have been saved today."

Silence followed.

"Aaradhya became my emotional support," Virendra said, a faint warmth touching his voice. "Her small giggles... her smile... they kept me alive."

A tear slipped down.

"So I started taking her to the office with me," he continued. "And on my request, Yashoda joined back."

Yashoda lowered her eyes.

"I saw her bonding with Aaradhya," Virendra said. "And Baba made me realize something I couldn't live alone. My children needed someone."

He paused.

"So I asked Yashoda."

A beat.

"After many days," he said, "she said yes."

His voice softened.

"Only because of Aru."

The room shifted uneasily.

"But Rivan didn't like her," Virendra admitted.

His throat tightened.

"When I told him I was going to marry again," Virendra said, "he started screaming."

The memory still shook him.

"He said I was marrying the same woman because of whom his mother died."

"He said because of her, I killed his mother."

Virendra's eyes widened even now.

"I was shocked," he whispered. "I couldn't understand who had poisoned his mind."

He swallowed hard.

"Then he said something that broke me completely," Virendra continued.

"He said he was just my bastard son. That's why I hated his maa."

The room froze.

"I was shattered," Virendra said. "I kept asking myself who told him this?"

His voice hardened.

"And then I found out," he said. "It was Ritish. Again."

Rivan's fists clenched.

"I tried to make him understand," Virendra said softly. "But I couldn't tell him the whole truth."

His shoulders dropped.

"Somehow... we got married."

A heavy silence.

"And Rivan," Virendra continued, "was stubborn. He said he wanted to live in the penthouse."

Virendra looked down.

"I agreed," he said. "Because I had seen him harming himself many times."

His voice trembled.

"Even after yelling at him... scolding him... begging him... he never listened."

He inhaled sharply.

"So I gave him permission."

A pause.

"He never liked Yashoda," Virendra said quietly.

And everyone knew

That dislike was never about Yashoda alone.

It was about a wound that had never been allowed to heal.

Virendra took a shaky breath.

"Then... I caught Ritish."

His voice hardened, filled with years of suppressed rage.

"That fucking bastard," he said through clenched teeth. "The man who ruined my life."

A pause.

"And then... our lives moved on," Virendra continued, his voice softening. "At least, everyone's did."

His eyes lifted slowly.

"Except Rivan."

Yashoda's tears finally spilled over.

"She kept telling me to bring him back. "Again and again."

His voice broke. "But he never came."

The silence that followed was heavy.

Virendra spoke again, his voice low, heavy with memories that still refused to rest.

"Then... one day," he said slowly, "I was returning from a business trip."

He paused, as if choosing each word carefully.

"And that's when I saw her."

His eyes softened despite the pain.

"Devyani."

A silence fell.

"She was standing there innocence wrapped in fear," Virendra whispered. "Her eyes held questions she didn't know how to ask. Her body language... like the world had already hurt her more than it should have."

He swallowed hard.

"She was nothing like her mother," he continued. "She was different."

A faint, broken smile touched his lips.

"More beautiful," he admitted. "Not just in appearance but in soul."

His voice trembled.

"There was a moment," he said, "when I felt something twist painfully inside my chest. A strange pull. Like destiny reminding me of a promise I had forgotten."

He looked down.

"And then... she spoke."

The room leaned in.

"She called Hariram her father."

Virendra's breath hitched.

"I was shocked," he confessed. "My legs almost gave up on me."

His fists clenched.

"Because in that one word father I realized something."

His voice dropped to a whisper.

"The child was alive."

Tears welled up in his eyes.

"The child I had failed to protect," he said. "The promise I thought I had broken forever."

His chest rose unevenly.

"In that moment," Virendra whispered, "relief, guilt, gratitude, and fear everything crashed into me at once."

He closed his eyes.

"God had kept her alive," he said brokenly. "Even when I had failed."

And somewhere deep inside, Virendra Thakur understood

This wasn't just a reunion.

It was fate giving him one last chance at redemption.

"That's it," Virendra said quietly. "This is how our lives went on."

He looked around the room.

"But deep down," he whispered, "everyone carried their own pain. Their own emotions."

Then his eyes stopped on Rivan.

Virendra stood up slowly.

"I'm sorry, Rivan," he said, his voice trembling.

"I'm sorry... for not being there for you."

His breath hitched.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, tears falling freely now.

"For not being the best papa."

Rivan's throat tightened instantly.

His fists clenched so hard his nails dug into his palms.

Aaradhya suddenly broke down and ran forward, wrapping her arms around Virendra, crying uncontrollably.

Aditya turned away, his shoulders shaking as tears streamed down his face.

Yashoda covered her mouth, sobbing silently.

Almost everyone in the room was crying.

Almost.

Rivan stood there still.

His emotions rose like a violent storm... and then he buried them again.

His throat tightened painfully.

He blinked again and again.

Not now.

Not ever.

Because this was what Rivan Thakur had learned long ago

And even though Rivan stood silent, unmoving, that pain reached him too quietly, brutally.

Reyansh watched his friend, his chest tightening. For the first time, he truly understood the weight Rivan had been carrying all these years.

Tears blurred Reyansh's vision.

He tried to wipe them away, but they kept coming.

Jinal was crying uncontrollably now. Her breath turned uneven, her shoulders shaking as the emotions overwhelmed her.

Reyansh noticed it instantly.

He knew her too well.

He saw the way her hands started trembling, the way her body stiffened signs he had learned to recognize long ago. She couldn't handle too much emotional stress.

Without a word, Reyansh gently took her hands in his.

His thumbs brushed over her knuckles in slow, calming strokes.

A silent reassurance.

Jinal's breathing gradually slowed.

Her trembling eased.

And just like that, in a room full of shattered hearts

One gentle gesture kept someone from breaking completely.

Because sometimes, healing doesn't come from words.

It comes from simply being there.

Rivan didn't say anything.

No explanation.

No questions.

No answers.

He just... left.

He needed peace.

And he knew exactly where he would find it.

I walked out.

No words.

No talks.

No hugs.

No forgiveness.

Just left.

Because this is what I've learned over the years

leaving hurts less than staying.

My heart felt restless, like it was being crushed from the inside.

But it wasn't new.

This wasn't the first time I was hearing the truth.

I already knew.

Two months ago.

That was the day I truly broke.

The day I found out that I was the one who killed her.

My kitten's mother.

I was the reason.

The reason behind her death.

The reason behind her pain.

The reason behind everything she went through.

If I hadn't touched the steering wheel that night

If I hadn't tried to save my mother

Maybe that car wouldn't have lost control.

Maybe she would still be alive.

Maybe Devyani wouldn't have grown up without a mother.

My thoughts tangled violently.

Pain shattered my heart, piece by piece.

It's all because of me.

Every tear that fell tonight

Every scream that echoed in that room

Every broken soul

It all started with me.

I was just a child.

But that doesn't erase the damage.

I survived.

Others didn't.

Everyone suffered

because of me.

And no apology...

No truth...

No love...

Can ever change that.

I wished I could understand Mr. Thakur back then.

I wished I had listened to him.

But I was too blind

too blinded by pain,

too blinded by anger,

too blinded to trust the one person who was actually telling the truth.

I wish... instead of her mother, I should have died that night.

Maybe then none of this would exist.

But now

now how am I supposed to face her?

What will she feel when she finds out the truth about me?

Will she accept me?

Will she forgive me?

I already know the answer.

So I think it's better if I divorce her and leave.

Because how can someone ever live with the person who killed her mother?

If I were in her place...

I would probably kill that person myself.

My baby kitten is too innocent right now.

Too pure.

Too untouched by this filthy truth.

But innocence doesn't erase sin.

And just because she doesn't know today

doesn't mean I deserve forgiveness tomorrow.

I won't run from my punishment.

I've already started it

for the last two months.

And I'll continue it

for the rest of my life.

Because some mistakes aren't meant to be forgiven.

They're meant to be carried.

I entered the room...

and saw her.

My peace.

And without realizing it, I smiled.

My baby.

I wish I had found her earlier

before Mr. Thakur,

before fate trapped her in that house,

before her father ever touched her life.

Maybe then...

I could have saved her.

I turned away and went into the bathroom.

My back, my hands

they were filled with blood.

I cleaned myself silently, scrubbing away the evidence,

though I knew nothing could ever truly be washed away.

Then I went back to her.

I stayed.

I sat beside her on the bed.

"Hey, kitten," I whispered.

My fingers moved gently through her hair, slow and careful, as if even touch could break her.

"Baby, wake up," I said softly.

"Your pati ji is here, and you're just lying on the bed... this isn't fair."

My voice trembled.

A broken smile touched my lips.

"But first, you have to become strong."

My throat tightened. I gulped hard.

The words barely made it out.

"Is there... any chance?"

"Even the smallest chance... that you forgive me?"

Tears burned behind my eyes.

A pause.

My voice broke completely.

I lowered my head beside her.

Because loving her was never my right

It was the last thing I was trying to earn.

Brokenly, he smiled

remembering her stupid little things.

"Do you know how much you scared me in the lift?" he whispered softly.

"Seeing you so scared... even I got scared."

A faint chuckle escaped him, heavy with pain.

"And then," he added, his voice dropping, "you almost killed me when you held my... umm..."

He shook his head, smiling sadly.

"I was extremely panicked that day," he admitted.

"Too innocent to understand what was happening."

His eyes softened.

A tear slid down.

His fingers trembled as they brushed her hair.

"And when I taught you about things," he continued quietly,

"I wish I could have taught you more."

A silence followed.

"But I don't know what the future is waiting for me," he whispered.

"I don't know how much time I have left in your world."

He leaned closer.

"But right now," he said softly, "I just want peace."

One calm moment.

"With you."

He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead slow, reverent, like a promise and a goodbye all at once.

Then he carefully pulled her into his arms and lay down on the bed.

Just him.

And his peace.

Wrapped in silence

holding onto love,

even as the world threatened to take it away.

After almost three days, Devyani finally woke up.

Her eyelashes fluttered slowly, as if even opening her eyes required courage.

Her head felt heavy.

Her body felt weak.

She looked around.

The room was silent.

Too silent.

No Reyansh bhaiyya.

No voices.

No familiar movement.

Just stillness.

Her heart thudded.

She tried to remember.

Fragments came

blood, screams, pain, darkness

Her breath hitched.

"No..." she whispered to herself.

She slowly pushed herself up and sat on the bed, holding the edge for support. Her hands trembled, but she forced herself to breathe.

For a second, everything was quiet.

Too quiet.

Then

blood.

Her breath caught violently.

Rivan.

Covered in blood.

Her vision blurred as the memory slammed into her without mercy his back, his hands, red... so much red. His face pale. His eyes full of pain he was trying to hide from her.

Her chest tightened.

She tried to breathe

but her lungs refused to cooperate.

Her breaths turned uneven, shallow, broken.

"N–no..." she whispered.

Her body started shaking uncontrollably, fingers curling into the bedsheet as if she was drowning.

She gulped hard, tears spilling down her temples.

"Pati ji came..." she whispered weakly, fear cracking her voice.

"B...but... he... blood..."

Her lips trembled.

"Pain..."

The word came out like a sob.

Her whole body shivered now, as if the memory itself was freezing her from inside. Her heart raced painfully, each beat echoing panic.

"P–pati ji..." she whispered again, scared, broken, searching.

Her eyes darted around the room, desperate, terrified

as if he might appear again covered in blood...

or worse

not appear at all.

She hugged herself tightly, trying to feel safe.

But the image wouldn't leave.

Blood.

Pain.

Him.

Just then

The door opened.

RIVAN walked in.

For a second, time stopped.

He froze at the door.

His first instinct wasn't anger.

It wasn't control.

It was fear.

Fear that she would scream.

Fear that he would become her nightmare again.

His eyes darkened with panic.

He slowly took a step back.

Just one.

As if preparing to call Reyansh.

As if preparing to leave.

But

Devyani looked at him.

Really looked.

No blood.

No screams.

No darkness.

Just him.

Her pati ji.

Her lips parted.

She didn't scream.

She didn't step back.

Instead

She stood up.

Her legs wobbled, but she ignored it.

And before RIVAN could react

She walked towards him.

RIVAN's breath stopped.

"Devyani—" he began, his voice low, cautious, broken.

But she didn't let him finish.

She reached him.

And hugged him.

Tightly.

Like she was holding onto the only thing keeping her alive.

Her face buried in his chest.

Her hands clutching his shirt like a frightened child.

RIVAN went completely still.

His arms hung uselessly at his sides.

His mind screamed don't touch her.

His heart screamed don't let go.

Tears soaked his shirt instantly.

"Pati ji..." she sobbed, her small body trembling against his chest.

Her grip tightened, almost desperate.

"Blood mean... pain," she cried brokenly.

"Blood is not good..."

Her voice shook violently.

"Please don't..." she gulped, struggling to breathe, "...hurt yourself."

Her hands clutched his back, checking, afraid, as if she needed to be sure he was real and not bleeding anymore.

"H–hurt... please..." she whispered in panic.

"Blood... whenever it came out..." her sobs grew harsher, "it gives you pain."

She shook her head repeatedly, tears falling endlessly.

"I scared," she admitted softly, almost childlike.

"I don't like when you hurt."

Her face pressed into his chest, her heart pounding wildly.

"Please... pati ji," she begged, fear pouring out of every word.

"Don't go away... don't bleed... don't pain."

She clung to him as if he was her only anchor in the world

terrified that pain would take him away from her too.

Rivan tightened his hold on her gently.

"Devyani... hear me," he said softly.

She refused to move. Her arms stayed locked around him, her face buried in his chest, as if letting go would make the fear real again.

But he didn't stop.

"See," he murmured, steady and calm, though his heart was breaking. "I'm fine."

He slowly pulled back just enough to make her look at him.

"I'm not bleeding," he said patiently. "See... look at me once."

Her wet lashes lifted hesitantly, eyes scanning him in panic his hands, his back, his face.

"I am okay," he repeated.

"Whatever you saw... it was just a nightmare. Nothing else."

Devyani's lips trembled.

"Really...?" she whispered, her voice small and unsure.

"Yes," Rivan said instantly. "I didn't bleed."

She broke down again, tears rolling freely.

"But I saw..." she sobbed, words stumbling.

"You... you were in blood..."

Her body shook.

"You were hitting someone," she whispered fearfully.

"Like... like a bad man..."

Her breath hitched.

"Like... Bapu—"

She stopped.

The word hung unfinished between them.

Her eyes widened as if she had said something forbidden. Her mouth closed instantly, and she shrank back slightly, scared of the memory, of the comparison, of what it meant.

Rivan's heart clenched painfully.

He pulled her back into his arms at once, holding her tighter, shielding her from her own fear.

"It's okay," he whispered, his voice trembling but firm.

"It's okay, kitten."

Her sobs softened against him, but her body still trembled.

Because even if he called it a nightmare

Somewhere deep inside her,

Devyani knew what she saw had felt too real to be just a dream.

"I thought..." her voice came muffled, trembling,

"I thought you'll never come back."

Her shoulders shook.

"I was scared," she whispered.

"Every night... I was so scared."

Tears soaked his shirt.

RIVAN's jaw clenched.

His eyes burned.

Slowly very slowly his hands lifted.

As if touching her might break her.

He wrapped his arms around her.

Carefully.

Protectively.

Like she was made of glass.

"I'm here," he whispered hoarsely, forehead resting against her hair.

"I'm not going anywhere."

She tightened her hold.

"Don't leave me again," she cried softly.

"Please... don't disappear."

Something inside RIVAN shattered.

He closed his eyes.

Devyani finally pulled back slightly and looked up at him.

Her eyes searched his face

as if making sure he was real.

His chest constricted painfully.

She nodded, as if accepting that truth like a fragile treasure.

Then, in a small voice, she asked

RIVAN's heart clenched.

He cupped her face gently, thumbs brushing away her tears.

"Never," he said firmly.

"Not even for a second."

She leaned into his touch.

Safe.

She didn't see blood.

She didn't see pain.

She only saw him.

And RIVAN

For the first time in his life

Held someone

without fear of destroying them.

RIVAN gently lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed.

"Shhhhhhh," I warned him, putting a Nutella-covered finger in front of his lips. "Keep quiet. I am hungry."

His eyes widened even more. "What kind of hunger is this??"

I gave him a sharp look.

The kind of look that clearly said: one more word and you are finished.

He immediately shut his mouth.

But it stayed slightly open in shock.

I dipped my finger again in the jar and very seriously said, "Open your mouth properly."

He blinked. "Why?"

I narrowed my eyes.

He obeyed instantly.

I put a little Nutella on his tongue.