Her Saiyaara

1. The Unspoken Name IKA

The streets of Delhi were never this lonely. Far away from the buzzing main roads, in a narrow deserted lane, a girl walked like a lifeless shadow.

Her dupatta was missing, her face bore the stains of dried tears, and her swollen red eyes told a story of endless crying.

But now, her tears had stopped. Only one voice kept echoing in her head, piercing through her heart like a dagger.

"Aaj se is ghar se tera koi rishta nahi… mar gayi tu hamare liye aur hum tere liye. Nikal ja yaha se!"

("From today, you have no relation with this house… You are dead for us, and we are dead for you. Get out of here!")

The cruel voice of her father.

She could still hear him shouting, words engraved forever on her heart.

"Chali jaa apne aashiq ke paas… ye ghar ab tera nahi hai!"

("Go to your lover… this house is no longer yours!")

Her feet dragged aimlessly, her mind drowning in the echoes of rejection. She was so lost in their voices that she didn't even notice the blinding headlights rushing toward her.

The screech of tires pierced the silence. A car stopped just inches away from her trembling feet.

Inside, a man stepped out. Tall, composed, his aura calm yet powerful.

His sharp blue eyes softened as they fell on the petite girl standing like a statue in the middle of the road.

"You didn't get hurt, right?" his voice was low, steady.

Shivika slowly turned her head toward him.

For the first time, he saw her clearly. Eyes that must have been beautiful once, but now swollen, red, drowning in pain. She stared at his ocean-blue gaze, while he searched for answers in her deep brown eyes.

But her body was too weak, too broken. Her vision blurred, her knees buckled, and before she could fall onto the hard road, his arms caught her securing her in an unspoken promise of safety.

"Hey… wake up," he tapped her cheek gently.

"Come on, open your eyes," his voice grew a little desperate.

But she didn't respond. With a heavy sigh, he slipped off his coat and wrapped it around her fragile frame, shielding her like it was instinct.

Carefully, he carried her to the backseat of his car.

"I hope you're fine…" he whispered under his breath, his eyes flickering to her unconscious face in the mirror.

For the first time in years, he felt something uneasy in his chest. He wanted to see those brown eyes again but not clouded with pain.

Being an orphan himself, Rakshit had learned to read the language of people's eyes.

Their silence spoke louder than words. And this girl… her eyes screamed the kind of pain he knew too well.

Within minutes, his car stopped in front of Mahajan Memorial Hospital -a place he built for the needy and the abandoned, every service free for those without support.

Without wasting a second, he rushed her to the emergency ward.

"Dr. Shilpa, check her please. She fainted. She came in front of my car suddenly, but there's no external injury," his voice was calm, but his clenched jaw betrayed his worry.

"Yes, sir. We'll take care of her," Dr. Shilpa replied, wheeling Shivika inside.

Rakshit exhaled sharply and sat down on the chair outside, his usually unreadable face shadowed with something rare, concern.

Just then, a young man approached with excitement in his eyes.

"Sir! You here? I'm Dr. Abhishek Diwakar. I just joined as an intern here. It's an honor to finally meet you!" he said, almost breathless.

Rakshit barely glanced at him.

"Hmm. Good." His reply was clipped, his gaze still fixed on the emergency room door.

Dr. Abhishek froze, suddenly realizing what people said about his ultimate boss was true.

Before he could gather courage to speak again, the door of the emergency ward opened. Dr. Shilpa stepped out, her expression serious.

"How is she?" Rakshit asked, his voice low but firm, as he stood in front of Dr. Shilpa.

His sharp blue eyes, usually calm and unreadable, now carried a rare flicker of worry.

"Her body is very weak, sir… severe dehydration. And in this condition it is very harmful for her health," Dr. Shilpa explained gently, her words making Rakshit's brows knit together in confusion.

"What condition?" his tone was steady, but inside, his heart was running a marathon.

Dr. Shilpa hesitated for a second before answering, "She is three months pregnant, sir."

For a moment, everything around him stilled. Rakshit froze, the words sinking into him like a stone thrown into still water, creating ripples he wasn't prepared for.

His throat tightened, but he forced himself to ask, "The baby is fine, right?"

He tried to control the tremor in his voice, but the subtle shake betrayed him.

"Yes, sir. The baby is perfectly fine, and she is stable too," Dr. Shilpa reassured.

"But she hasn't eaten properly since the whole day, and her water level was very low. We've attached a glucose drip, she'll regain consciousness soon."

Rakshit let out a long breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Relief washed over him, loosening the tight knot in his chest.

"Can I… meet her?" he asked quietly.

"Yes, sir, you can go inside. I'll attend other patients. Please call me if there's any change."

With that, Dr. Shilpa walked away, leaving Rakshit standing still for a second longer.

He finally pushed the door open and stepped into the room.

There she was.

Lying weakly on the hospital bed, a saline drip connected to her delicate hand. Her face, once bright and full of life, now looked pale and drained of all color. Strands of her hair rested on her forehead, and her chest rose and fell slowly with shallow breaths.

Something inside him clenched.

A dull ache, unfamiliar yet sharp, spread through his chest. He didn't understand why but seeing her like this, broken and fragile, unsettled him in ways he couldn't explain.

He walked closer but stopped a few feet away, arms crossing over his chest as though to protect himself from the storm she unknowingly stirred within him. His eyes, however, refused to leave her face.

Shivika's lashes fluttered weakly, and after a moment, her eyes opened.

Blinking at the harsh white light of the room, she looked around in confusion.

Rakshit immediately straightened, his usual stillness broken by a flicker of relief.

He quickly called for the nurse.

"Help her sit," he instructed, his tone calm yet edged with concern.

For a second, he had thought of helping her himself, but the hesitation lingered, what if she felt uncomfortable with his touch?

The nurse gently supported Shivika, adjusting her pillow and helping her sit upright before quietly stepping out of the room, leaving them alone.

Shivika's mind was clouded; she didn't know how she had ended up here.

But then her gaze fell on him-the tall man standing a few feet away, arms crossed, blue eyes fixed solely on her.

"You are fine, right?" Rakshit asked softly, uncrossing his arms and stepping forward.

Shivika hummed faintly in response, her voice low and tired.

"You… brought me here?"

He nodded. "You fainted."

A weak attempt at a smile tugged at her lips. "Thank you."

"It's fine," he replied, his voice steady but carrying an undercurrent of something deeper.

His jaw tightened slightly. "But you should take care of yourself… especially when you are carrying a child."

The words slipped out more sharply than he intended. He didn't like her carelessness-what if something had happened to her or the baby?

Shivika froze, her eyes widening. His words pierced through her like a blade. She opened her mouth, wanting to respond, but nothing came.

Somewhere, she knew he wasn't wrong. Still, shame, anger, and pain tangled inside her chest. Slowly, she lowered her gaze.

Rakshit's eyes flickered with regret. He hadn't meant to cross that line.

I shouldn't have said that.

Clearing his throat, he spoke again, his voice softer.

"Umm… tell me your husband's number. I'll call him. He must be worried about you." He reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone.

But before he could dial, his phone slipped from his hand and hit the floor. Shivika's voice, sharp and loud, had cut through the air --

"That's the problem!"

Rakshit froze, his eyes widening at her sudden outburst. He bent to pick up his phone, but her trembling voice rose again, stronger now with rage and grief.

"I'm… sorry. I didn't mean it like that," he said quickly, his voice carrying a rare urgency.

For the first time in years, he felt something unfamiliar-fear.

Fear of her anger.

Fear of the pain in her eyes.

Her voice broke, and she doubled over, coughing violently from the strain.

Rakshit didn't think he moved instantly, closing the space between them.

"Hey, relax… don't," he said urgently, his hand gently patting her back, steady but tender. His calm voice was laced with desperation.

He quickly poured water into a glass and held it out to her, steadying it against her trembling hands. "Here, drink."

Her lips touched the rim of the glass, and she sipped slowly, her breaths uneven.

Rakshit's hand lingered for a second, steadying her until her coughing subsided.

Only when she calmed he step back, putting distance between them again, though his eyes never left her face.

"I'm sorry for saying things before knowing anything," Rakshit said quietly.

"It's not your fault… I just overreacted," Shivika whispered, wiping the tears slipping down her cheeks.

"Tell me anyone's phone number from your home," Rakshit asked, his tone gentle yet firm.

He only wanted her to return home safely.

(I don't even have a home…)

Rakshit's heart skipped. His chest tightened as he asked slowly, almost fearing the answer, "Matlab…?"

(Means?)

Shivika looked down, her voice trembling but steady in truth.

She didn't hesitate. Sharing pain with a stranger felt easier than carrying it alone.

Rakshit's heart clenched. Relief flickered for a moment at least she wasn't an orphan like him but the thought died quickly.

What difference does it make? She had a family, yet today she stood alone… just like him.

"What about the guy?" Rakshit asked carefully.

He didn't know why, but he couldn't stop himself. Why did her story matter this much to him?

Shivika let out a humourless chuckle.

Shivika's eyes widened. "What?"

She stared at him in disbelief. His words carried no pity, no hesitation only quiet certainty.

Shivika lowered her gaze, lost in thought.

Meanwhile, Rakshit's mind wavered. What did I just say? I told her to live with me… what the hell? I could have offered her space in one of my orphanages or old-age homes. But no. Why? Is something wrong with me?

Her soft voice broke his thoughts.

"How can I trust you?" she asked, torn between fear and need. Trust had already cost her everything.

Shivika looked at him his distance, his restraint, his silence. If he had wanted to harm her, he never would have brought her here.

Something about him felt… safe.

Her hand instinctively moved to her stomach. She caressed it gently, then looked back up.

"I'm ready to come with you," she said finally, her voice trembling yet strong.

"But don't you dare try anything. I'm a black belt in karate." She lifted her forefinger in warning.

Rakshit's lips twitched at her attempt to sound fierce, but no smile escaped.

"Okay," he said simply.

"What is your name… and where do you live?" Shivika asked softly.

Part of her wanted to disappear from this city forever. Delhi had been her home since birth, but now it only reminded her of pain.

"I am Rakshit Mahajan. I live in Mumbai," he replied evenly.

"I am fine… going to Mumbai," Shivika said after a pause.

But her heart cracked.

This is my city… my home. Will my family even try to find me now? Or am I gone forever for them?

"Okay. I'll talk to the doctor about your discharge," Rakshit said, then quietly walked out, leaving her alone.

Shivika looked down, her vision blurring.

She placed her hand gently on her stomach.

"Baby… you'll support your mumma, right?" she asked with a broken smile.

At least she would have a roof, and somehow, she would figure out the rest.

The door opened, and Rakshit entered with Dr. Shilpa.

"You're fine now, Miss—" Dr. Shilpa began while removing the drip.

"Shivika," she said quietly.

"Nice name," the doctor smiled.

"You're fine, but you need to eat something healthy and drink lots of water. It's important for the baby. Now you have to think about your baby first."

Shivika nodded, guilt tugging at her heart. "I will."

Rakshit stood a little behind, silent. Shivika… he repeated in his head.

He hadn't even asked her name, but hearing it felt strangely familiar.

For reasons he couldn't understand, his heart whispered a softer version—IKA.

It felt right. Like the name belonged only to him.

"And meet a gynecologist at the end of this week for a proper checkup for you and the baby both," the doctor added.

Just then, Rakshit's voice came from behind, calm but firm.

"Can she travel right now?"

Dr. Shilpa turned. "Yes, sir. Just make sure she eats something first."

Rakshit nodded once.

Shivika glanced at him. The thought of travel hadn't even crossed her mind… yet he had asked for her.

A man with no relation to her, still thinking for her and her child.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:-