32 Pacifying My Best Friend
The Sharma mansion was quite and peaceful but not for Niyati.
Inside her room, Niyati sat frozen on the edge of her mattress, still wearing the knee-length dress she had worn to Diya's eighteenth birthday party.
Her carefully styled hair now fell in loose, unkempt waves around her shoulders, and her makeup was smudged from hours of silent weeping.
Her hands trembled around her phone screen as she dialed Diya's number yet again.
The call rang. Once. Twice. Three times.
Call ended.
Niyati stared blankly at the dark screen, a tight knot forming in her throat. She pressed the redial button immediately.
Call rejected.
She tried once more. Call rejected.
Unable to take the sting of denial, Niyati tossed her phone onto the bed and buried her face in her hands, letting out a trembling, ragged sigh.
"Why isn't she taking my calls?" she whispered to the quiet room, her eyes swelling with fresh tears. "I know I'm at fault. I know I made a mistake... but at least give me one chance to explain."
She picked up the phone again, staring helplessly at her best friend's contact name glowing in the dark. "I would've told you," she choked out into the silence. "I swear I would've. But you don't even want to listen!"
A hot tear trailed down her cheek. Stung by her own helplessness, she threw the phone aside and stood up abruptly, pacing the floor.
"And you're so stubborn!" she stomped her foot against the rug, venting her frustration like an overwhelmed child.
"Both the siblings are exactly the same. So unbelievably stubborn!"
The irony of her words wasn't lost on her, but the sheer emotional fatigue was too overwhelming to care.
"One won't listen to a single word I say, and the other one thinks everything will magically fix itself," her voice cracked, her breath coming in ragged hitches.
"And I'm completely stuck in the middle."
She turned her back to the mirror, unable to look at her own guilty reflection.
Niyati froze. Her head snapped toward her hostel-style room window.
Another soft knock followed.
Her heart leaped straight into her throat. Who on earth could possibly be standing outside her window at this hour of the night? She took a slow, cautious step toward the glass, her breath hitching. "Who's there?"
Silence hung in the air for a second before a familiar, deep voice floated through the glass paning. "Niyati... it's me."
Her eyes widened in absolute shock. "Ansh?"
"Open the window," he murmured.
Hurrying forward, Niyati unlocked the latch and pushed the window open. The moment the frame cleared, Ansh expertly hoisted himself over the sill, landing silently on his feet before sliding the glass shut behind him.
Niyati stared at him as if he were a ghost. "What are you doing here?!"
Ansh turned around, his dark eyes instantly locking onto her tear-stained face. His entire expression softened with a deep, aching tenderness. "I came to see you. To see how you're doing."
Niyati's lips trembled as she looked down. "You shouldn't have come."
"I know," Ansh replied smoothly, stepping closer. "But I wasn't going to sit at home knowing you're here alone and crying your eyes out."
That was all it took. The brittle walls she had held up all evening crumbled, her eyes filling with tears all over again. "She's not taking my calls, Ansh."
Ansh let out a quiet, heavy sigh. "I know."
"You tried talking to her?"
"Several times."
"And?"
"Nothing," he shook his head, a line deepening between his brows. "She completely ignored me after everyone left. Locked herself in her room."
Niyati's shoulders slumped in utter defeat as she wiped at her cheeks. "Of course she did. She hates me."
"She doesn't hate you, Niyati."
"You didn't see her face, Ansh! You don't know!"
"I did see her face," Ansh corrected softly, stepping into her space. "I know she's hurt. There is a massive difference."
Niyati shook her head, walking heavily back to the bed and sinking onto the mattress. "I shouldn't have hidden it from her. I knew she deserved to know. She's my best friend-we've shared every tiny detail of our lives since we were kids. And I lied to her."
"You didn't lie," Ansh said gently.
"I hid it from her. It's the same thing."
Ansh sat down beside her, his presence grounding her frantic thoughts. "Yes," he admitted plainly. "We both did."
His lack of defense made her look up. He wasn't trying to minimize what they'd done, nor was he offering empty excuses.
"I should've told her the moment we got back together," Niyati whispered, staring down at her lap.
"Maybe," Ansh conceded quietly. "But we were scared. We were trying to protect what we just found again."
"That doesn't make it right."
"No," he agreed, his tone calm and honest. "But it makes it human."
Niyati swallowed back a sob, looking at him with wide, frightened eyes. "What if she never forgives me?"
Ansh immediately turned toward her, his expression resolute. "She will."
"You don't know that."
"I know my sister," a faint, fond smile flickered across his lips. "She's stubborn. Extremely stubborn."
Niyati let out a weak, wet sniffle. "See? I told you."
"But she's also deeply emotional," he continued, his voice softening as he leaned in closer. "And she loves you, Niyati. That's why she's hurt this badly. If you didn't mean the world to her, she wouldn't care half as much."
Niyati looked at him silently, the truth of his words washing over her bruised heart. "So... what do we do now?"
Ansh leaned forward, resting his elbows against his knees as he thought it through. "We give her tonight to process everything."
"She won't talk to us tomorrow either."
"Then we don't force her. But tomorrow morning, you come home."
Niyati blinked, startled. "Tomorrow?"
"Yes," he turned his head to look at her. "We'll sit down with her. Both of us."
Niyati hesitated, her chest tightening with apprehension. "What if she refuses to see me?"
"Then we wait outside her door."
"What if she tells me to leave?"
"Then I'll talk to her first."
"And if she still doesn't listen to either of us?"
Ansh offered her a small, reassuring smile, his eyes shining with unyielding warmth. "Then we keep trying until she does."
Niyati searched his face, her heart beating a little steadier. "You really think she'll forgive us?"
"I think she needs time," he reached over, wrapping his warm fingers around her cold hand and squeezing gently. "But eventually, she'll understand."
Niyati looked down at their joined hands, feeling the contrast between her trembling fingers and his solid grip. "I'm scared, Ansh. What if everything changes between us-the three of us?"
"It might," Ansh acknowledged honestly. She looked up sharply, but he continued before panic could take root. "Diya finding out was always going to shift things. We can't undo tonight, Niyati. But we can decide what we do next."
His thumb brushed soothingly over the back of her hand. "We'll be completely honest with her. We'll tell her everything-how it started, why we hesitated, everything. No excuses. No hiding."
"And we apologize," Niyati added softly.
"Yes."
"Even if she screams at us?"
"Especially if she screams at us," Ansh chuckled faintly.
A tiny, reluctant smile finally broke through Niyati's tear-stained face. "You're making it sound so simple."
"It's not going to be easy," he said, his gaze locking onto hers with absolute seriousness. "But we're going to do it together."
The word anchored itself deep within her chest. Together. That was the missing piece she had been desperate for-not a magic wand to erase the mistake, but the absolute certainty that she wouldn't have to stand in the eye of the storm alone.
Leaning forward, Niyati rested her forehead against his shoulder, letting out a long, heavy breath. "I'm really sorry, Ansh."
Ansh wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her flush against his side. "You don't have to apologize to me. We both made this choice, and we'll both face the consequences."
He rested his cheek lightly against the top of her head, his warmth enveloping her against the late-night chill. Niyati closed her eyes, letting a final, quiet tear fall onto his shirt. "I miss her already."
"I know."
"I hate that she's hurt because of me."
"She'll come around," Ansh held her tighter. "I promise I'll do everything I can to fix this."
Niyati lifted her head slightly, looking into his steady eyes. "And tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow, we go home," he murmured softly. "Together."
She nodded slowly. Unable to hold back any longer, Niyati wrapped both arms tightly around his neck, burying her face into the crook of his collarbone. Ansh held her close, stroking her hair in rhythmic, soothing motions as the silence settled around them once more.
The night had shattered the joy of Diya's birthday and exposed their secret in the worst possible way.
But as Niyati lay in Ansh's arms listening to the steady thud of his heartbeat, the terror that had consumed her all night finally began to recede-replaced by the fragile, quiet hope that tomorrow, they would begin to make things right.
The quiet rhythm of their breathing filled the room as the tension slowly shifted into a familiar, electric warmth.
Ansh's hand moved up from her waist, his thumb gently caressing her jawline as he tilted her face up to meet his gaze.
His dark eyes softened, heavy with desire, and he began to slowly lean in, his lips targeting hers.
Niyati turned her head at the last second, catching his kiss on her cheek instead. "Ansh, no..." she murmured, pressing a hand flat against his chest. "We shouldn't."
"Niyati," he rasped, ignoring her weak resistance as he lowered his head to press soft, lingering kisses along her jawline. "Just relax for a minute."
"I can't," she breathed out, her voice trembling as she attempted to push him away. "Not like this. Not until we talk to Diya and clear everything up."