[77]
They were walking through the mall’s food court corridor now—bright lights, smell of fresh pizza and burgers, people laughing and chatting around them.
Amisha’s stomach growled loudly.
She looked at Abhiraj, hand on her tummy.
“Chaliye kuch khate hain… bohot bhukh lagi hai.”
Abhiraj nodded, smiling.
“Haan chalo.”
They turned toward one of the restaurants.
Amisha suddenly felt it—a prickle on the back of her neck. Like someone was staring.
She stopped walking, turned quickly.
No one.
Just normal people—families, couples, teenagers.
She frowned, confused.
Abhiraj noticed her pause.
“Kya hua?”
Amisha stepped closer to him, voice low.
“Mujhe aisa lag raha ki koi hamare peeche chal raha hai…”
Abhiraj chuckled—low, warm, completely relaxed.
“Ham thodi na koi celebrity hain… hame thodi na koi 1.9 million log jaante hain.
Ham toh bas 2 gadhon aur ek kitten ke maa-baap hain.”
Amisha blinked.
Nodded slowly, still confused by his wording.
She thought to herself:
Main hi bimaar hu lagta hai…
They entered the restaurant.
It was casual—wooden tables, red chairs, a big menu board. Teenage girls and boys, young couples, families all around, eating and talking.
They ordered—burger, pizza (new for Amisha), fries, cold drinks.
Food came quickly.
Abhiraj cut a slice of pizza, added sauce, and placed it on Amisha’s plate.
He wiped her hands with a napkin when sauce got on her fingers.
Took care of everything like the good husband he always was.
Amisha watched him for a moment, then leaned closer.
“Kab se mujhe aisa kyun lag raha hai ki ye ladkiyan (the girls which were sitted behind them)‘fictional’'fictional man' karke kuch baat kar rahi hain aapko dekh ke?”
Abhiraj raised an eyebrow.
“Mujhe utna toh pata hai fiction kya hota hai… par fictional man nahi pata.”
Amisha sighed.
“Aur ye bhi keh rahi hain ki fictional man fictional women ko hi milte hain… ham jaise ko nahi.
Kya main fictional hu? Main toh zinda hu na?”
Abhiraj looked at her, dead serious.
“Haan… ham dono zinda hain.”
He paused, then smiled.
“Aata hoga inka kuch fashion… pata nahi.
Chalo tum khana khao.
Tumhe kab se aisi buri aadat lag gayi baatein sunne ki.”
Amisha kicked his leg lightly under the table.
“Sidhe rahiye… warna aapne jo happy-happy kharida hai na—black lace—woh aapko hi pehna dungi.”
Abhiraj’s eyes widened.
“Sorry sorry… tum suno baatein… I mean kuch nahi…”
He looked innocent again.
Amisha laughed softly.
Then she felt it again—someone’s gaze on her.
She looked up.
From a far table—four figures.
One big person, three smaller ones—big, then small, then more small.
All in black hoodies.
No faces visible.
They were just… sitting.
Staring.
Amisha whispered.
“Vo log hame dekh rahe hain…”
Abhiraj glanced behind casually.
Then turned back to her.
A slow smirk spread on his face.
“Nahi hai… honge koi aur.”
He picked up a chocolate ball from the dessert plate and gently put it in her mouth.
She ate it automatically.
Thought to herself:
Mujhe koi mental hospital mein bhej do…
mujhe aisa hi lag raha hai koi hame dekh rahe hain.
But she didn’t say it out loud.
She just kept eating.
??
“Movie dekhne chale?”
Amisha’s eyes lit up instantly.
“Haan… chalte hain!”
They turned toward the cinema on the upper floor. The corridor was busy—families, couples, teenagers. The smell of popcorn drifted from the food counters.
Abhiraj bought tickets for a light romantic comedy. They entered the dimly lit hall and found their seats in the middle row—comfortable, private.
The lights dimmed.
The movie started.
But Amisha couldn’t focus.
That same uneasy feeling crawled up her spine again—someone was staring.
She kept glancing over her shoulder, shifting in her seat.
Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore.
She grabbed Abhiraj’s hand and dragged him out of the row, whispering urgently.
“Chalo bahar.”
They hurried out into the corridor again.
As soon as they were outside the hall, Amisha turned to him, eyes wide and anxious.
“Abhiraj… aap kuchh kijiye. Mujhe kab se feel ho raha hai hamare peeche koi hai.”
Abhiraj looked at her calmly, then smiled—slow, reassuring.
“Arey aisa kuchh nahi hai… koi nahi hai hamare peeche.”
Amisha shook her head fast.
“Nahi hai koi toh… ya toh aap unka kuchh karo… ya mujhe mental hospital mein bhej do.”
Abhiraj’s smile softened.
“Kya bol rahi ho? Mera kya hoga agar tum mental hospital chali gayi toh?”
He stepped closer, voice gentle but firm.
“Bas calmly chalo. Thik hai?
Jaisa main kahun.”
Amisha nodded slowly, trusting him.
He took her hand.
“Chalo.”
They walked a little through the mall corridors.
He spoke softly.
“Piche mat dekhna. Bas mere saath chalo.”
Amisha obeyed.
At a corner—near a row of small shops—he suddenly moved.
In one swift motion, he dragged her into a narrow side passage between two shops, pulling her into a small, shadowed corner.
He hugged her tightly against his chest, one hand on her back, the other covering her head protectively.
Amisha’s breath hitched.
“Ye kya kar rahe ho?”
He shushed her gently—finger on his lips.
Then pointed subtly.
“Focus,wahan.”
Amisha peeked carefully.
There—four figures.
Same as before.
Big one, then small, then smaller, then smallest.
All in black hoodies, moving slowly, looking here and there—like searching for someone.
Abhiraj’s voice was a whisper in her ear.
“Ye the hamare peeche.”
Amisha’s eyes widened.
“Par ye toh chhote chhote bachhe lag rahe hain…”
Abhiraj’s lips curved slightly.
“Tumhare chhote chhote bachhe hain ye.”
He stepped out of the corner.
The four figures froze.
Abhiraj walked straight toward them.
In one quick motion, he pulled the hood off the biggest one.
It was one of his bodyguards—Kartik.
Then the next.
Aviraj.
Amisha stepped forward and pulled the hoods off the last two.
Aryan and Abhira.
All four of them—bodyguard + three children—stood there, caught red-handed.
Amisha’s mouth fell open in shock.
She stumbled back a little—her back touched Abhiraj’s chest.
He instantly steadied her with one arm around her waist.
She looked at him—completely stunned.
Then at the children.
Then at the bodyguard.
“Ye… ye sab…?”it almost gave her heart attack.
Abhiraj sighed, but his eyes were amused.
“Ye log hamare peeche peeche aaye the. Chupke se.”
Amisha’s jaw clenched.
She turned to the children, voice strict.
“Bolo… kya kar rahe ho?”
No one moved at first.
Then she pointed.
“Jo bologe woh aage aao.”
Aviraj and Aryan immediately took one step back.
Which automatically pushed Abhira to the front.
Amisha raised her eyebrows, jaw tight at their smartness.
“Bolo, Abhira…”
Abhira looked shocked—why me?
She looked behind her—saw she was now in front.
Then spoke innocently.
“Vo Mummy… hame aapki yaad aa rahi thi… toh ham aa gaye.”
Amisha crossed her arms.
“Aur Megna kya kar rahi hai?”
They all answered together.
“Ham wahan gaye hi nahi. Unko bola ki ham ghar pe hi rehne wale hain.”
Amisha’s eyes narrowed.
“Aur ye mahan idea kiska tha?”
All fingers pointed at Aryan.
Amisha stretched Aryan’s ear gently but firmly, scolding.
“Tu?!”
Aryan winced dramatically.
“Sorry na Mummy… aapke saath aana tha hamko.”
Amisha sighed, releasing his ear.
“Aur tum log akele aaye yahan itni door?”
Aviraj immediately spoke.
“Kartik ke saath.”
Amisha corrected.
“Uncle ke saath, Kartik nahi.”
They corrected instantly.
“Haan… Uncle ke saath.”
Amisha looked at Kartik.
He looked like he was on the verge of crying.
“Sir… aapke masoom bachche mujhe blackmail karte hain.”
Amisha raised an eyebrow.
“Kya blackmail?”
Kartik swallowed.
“Aapko pata na chale… isliye toh main inko yahan nahi laya.”
Abhiraj stepped forward, voice calm but sharp.
“Kya baat thi? Bolo.”
Kartik was still standing with his head down, looking like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole.
Kartik finally spoke, voice small and shaking.
“Sir… woh maine galti se Madam ke phoolon ka gamla tod diya tha.”
Amisha’s eyes widened.
"To in sab ne uska video bana liya tha or blackmailing kar rahe hai."
Another mini heart attack hit her.
She tried to stay composed—inhaled deeply through her nose, exhaled slowly from her mouth, hands clenching at her sides.
Then she turned to the children, voice dangerously calm.
“Toh kya… tum log the jo woh dress le rahe the aur wapas rakh rahe the?”
All three little heads immediately pointed at Abhira.
Abhira’s eyes went big.
“Vo Mummy… aap mere liye le rahi thi… toh main dekh rahi thi kaisi hai.”
Amisha crossed her arms.
“Aur fir kya socha aaaapne dekh ke?”
Abhira—without thinking about the punishment waiting for her—blurted out innocently.
“Achhi lagi… isliye toh wahan wapas rakhi.”
Amisha’s jaw tightened.
She tried her best to control her anger—breathed again, counted to three in her head.
“Aur agar pasand na aati toh?”
Abhira—still not realizing the hole she was digging—answered immediately.
“Mujhe pasand na aati toh main fek deti wahan.”
Amisha’s voice dropped to a dangerous whisper.
“Abhira.”
Abhira finally realized.
Her eyes went wide.
She looked back for help.
“Papa!”
In pure reflex, Abhiraj spoke.
“Amisha.”
Amisha’s head snapped toward him.
“Kya?!”
Abhiraj immediately backtracked, looking innocent.
“Kuch bhi toh nahi…”
Amisha hummed—long, suspicious.
“Tum logo ko toh ghar jaake dikhati hu.”
She turned back to the children.
All three of them suddenly found the floor very interesting.
Aryan started fidgeting with his shirt hem.
Aviraj scratched his ear.
Abhira hid half her face behind her hands.
Kartik looked like he was praying for a miracle.
Amisha exhaled sharply.
“Chalo… ghar chalte hain. Abhi.”
The children nodded fast.
“Haan Mummy…”
Abhiraj cleared his throat.
“Thik hai ab… car mein hi chalte hai.”
He looked at Kartik.
“Tum bhi… ghar chalo.”
Kartik nodded like his life depended on it.
They all started walking toward the parking.
Amisha walked ahead, holding Abhira’s hand tightly.
Abhiraj followed behind with the boys.
The mall lights were bright.