Author's POV:

Jhanvi stepped out of the café, the winter air of Musoorie brushing her face, but she felt none of it. She looked shattered. 

Like someone had pulled the ground out from under her feet.

Reeva saw her and immediately rushed toward her, grabbing her hand gently but urgently.

"Kya hua? What did he say to you?" Reeva asked, eyes scanning her face, already sensing the storm behind her silence.

Jhanvi opened her mouth to speak—but words failed her.

 Not because she didn't want to answer, but because her throat felt like it was filled with glass.

Instead, she forced a small smile. Weak. Trembling. Unconvincing.

"I'm okay, Reeva..." she said softly, voice thin like paper.

Then, tightening her grip on Reeva's hand for a second, she added:

"Aaj café tu sambhal le... mujhe ghar jaana hai. Zaroori kaam hai."

Reeva stared at her, unconvinced. "But—"

Jhanvi shook her head gently. "Please..."

Reeva sighed, nodding slowly. "Theek hai. Main dekh lungi."

Jhanvi let go and turned toward home.

Reeva stood at the café gate, arms folded, heart heavy, eyes glued to her retreating figure—until 

Jhanvi disappeared from sight completely.

She reached home like a body moving on autopilot.

She unlocked the gate, stepped inside, but her mind was still trapped in that café, replaying 

every word, every threat, every whisper from Dev's mouth.

and directly went upstairs to her room.

The silence of the room felt louder than Dev's word.

She pressed both palms to her forehead, eyes closing tight.

Dev said he can kill Aryan if I don't marry him...

Her mind screamed: He can't. He won't. He's bluffing. He just wants control.

Her heart whispered back: But what if he can?

She hated that thought. But it clawed its way into her anyway.

Because the problem wasn't Dev.

The problem was the fear that maybe he wasn't lying.

She walked to the mirror.

Her reflection looked foreign today.

"I should be happy, right?" she whispered to herself. "He's rich, powerful, famous... sabke sapno ka rajkumar."

Then scoffed at her own words.

"But mera rajkumar nahi."

Her heartbeat thudded again, painfully reminding her of one face:

Aryan.

She sat on the bed.

Pulled her knees close to her chest.

The inner conflict grew sharper.

Her brain spoke first, logical and cruel:

Dev wants to marry you, Jhanvi. But his reason is insane. He thinks killing a man will make you 

love him. That's not love. That's madness.

Then her heart interrupted, louder than logic ever could

Madness... but powerful madness. He said he'll kill Aryan. His eyes didn't flinch. His voice didn't shake. What if he really can?

She laid down on the bed, staring at the ceiling, voice breaking into a whisper again

"Ye kaisi mushkil hai, Ganga Maiya...?"s

A lone tear slipped down her cheek, cold wind brushing past it.

"Main kya karu... koi toh rasta dikhao..."

She tilted her face toward the sky, voice breaking into a whisper.

"Dil kuch aur kehta hai... dimag kuch aur..."

"Aur jise mera dil pukarta hai... voh mera ho bhi nahi sakta."

Her palms pressed against her chest, as if holding the ache in place.

A heavy silence wrapped around her.

Then suddenly—

KNOCK. KNOCK.

Someone tapped on the gate.

Jhanvi snapped out of her stormy thoughts, stood up quickly, wiping her tears like they were evidence of a crime.

She opened the gate.

Mr. Bisht stood there.

Her father.

"Main andar aa jaun, beta?" he asked gently.

Jhanvi blinked at him, voice instantly softer, affectionate despite the chaos inside her.

"Ye bhi koi puchne ki baat hai, papa? Aaiye na."

He stepped inside.

They both sat on the small stone bench near the garden lamp.

Mr. Bisht looked at her hand first—the faint scar from the ring, the bandage from Reeva's 

medicine box, then at her face—eyes still glistening.

He sighed—not out of irritation, but pain.

"Main jaanta hoon, beta... ki aaj kal jo chal raha hai... usse tumhe bahut takleef ho rahi hai."He paused, swallowing hard before continuing, voice thick.

"Par ek baat yaad rakhna... tum shaadi karo ya na karo... tumhara papa humesha tumhare saath hai. Hmmm."

Jhanvi slowly turned her face toward him, emotions crashing again, but this time... not alone.

"Papa..." she whispered.

He raised his hand and gently placed it over hers.

"Main tumhara dil nahi padh sakta... par tumhari aankhein zaroor padh leta hoon."

Jhanvi's breath shook.

His thumb brushed a stray tear off her cheek.

And then, in a voice dipped in unconditional love, he added:

"Roya mat kar mera baccha..tera papa sab kuch bardash kar skata hai lekin apni gudiya ki ankhon maine ansu nhi."

Jhanvi broke again, but this time in a different way—she leaned forward and hugged him tightly.

"sab kuch itna confusing kyun hai?"

Mr. Bisht closed his eyes, hugging her back, voice almost a whisper against her hair:

"Kyunki dil ki batien kabhi simple nahi hota, beta."

Jhanvi nodded in his embrace, tears silently rolling down her cheeks.

Mr. Bisht hugged her tighter, but a storm brewed behind his closed eyelids.

"Main nahi jaanta beta... jab tujhe sach pata chalega... tu itna hi pyaar mujhe karegi bhi ya nahi?"

They broke the hug after a while, emotions hanging in the air like unsaid sins.

Just then, Mrs. Bisht appeared at the top of the stairs—face soft, voice still edged in iron.

"Neeche chalo."

Without waiting, she grabbed Jhanvi's wrist and guided her down.

The moment Jhanvi stepped in living room, her world jolted.

Dev sat on her sofa, legs crossed, posture arrogantly relaxed—like the house already answered to him.

Dev looked up.

And smirked.

He stood and walked toward her slowly, amusement dancing in his sharp eyes.

"Sasu-ma... main apni hone wali biwi ko shopping karane lene aaya hoon. Le jaun?"

Mrs. Bisht smiled stiffly and nodded.

But before the moment could settle, Mr. Bisht's voice cut through the room like a blade of truth:

"Abhi usne haan nahi ki hai tumhe."

Dev paused—cold eyes flicking toward him, but lips still curved in a controlled smile.

"Acha... aisa kya?" he mused.

"Hume akele mein ek minute dijiye."

Before anyone could react, Dev grabbed Jhanvi's arm and pulled her outside toward the garden.

Mr. Bisht tried moving behind them, but his wife snatched his hand back.

"Un dono ko akele mein baat karne do."

Mr. Bisht turned toward her, anger finally tearing through his quiet nature.

"Tumhe ye shaadi manzoor hai? Theek hai."

"Lekin mujhe nahi."

"Aur main uska papa hoon... bhale asli na hoon."

"Main apni beti ko kisi anjaan aadmi ke saath akele nahi jaane dunga."

He turned to go, but mrs.bisht's voice thundered behind him:

"Agar tumne ek kadam aur aage badhaya na... tum mera mara hua muh dekhoge."

Mr. Bisht froze, turning back slowly.

"Tum hadien paar kar rahi ho, Sharda."

She stood tall despite the shake in her breath.

"Sab kuch meri beti ke liye hai."

He scoffed, eyes narrowing.

"Jhooth."

"Sach toh ye hai ki tum ye sab apni zid ke liye kar rahi ho."

With that, he walked away and disappeared upstairs, leaving Sharda standing alone, breath 

uneven, heart cracking under her own decisions.

Meanwhile;

Dev pinned her to the wall, leaning down, eyes full of control, hunger, obsession.

"Toh kya faisla liya, Gulab?"

She didn't look away this time.

"Mera faisla humesha se wohi tha... aur wohi rahega."

"Main tumse shaadi nahi karungi."

Dev's grip tightened around her wrist. She flinched.

He leaned closer, voice low, slow, venomous.

"Tumhe lagta hai main mazaak kar raha hoon?"

He chuckled darkly, thumb brushing her jaw.

"Achha hai... ban jao tough jitna banna hai."

"Uski maut ke baad... shaadi toh hogi humari."

Jhanvi's eyes shot behind him.

Aryan was walking towards her house.

With a rose in his hand.

Dev watched where she was looking he smirked and said

"Shikar khud chal ke aaya hai."

Jhanvi shook her head violently, panic spiking.

"Tum kuch nahi karoge..."

"Mere bodyguards ko ek ishara kaafi hai."

"Uski laash tumhare saamne hogi."

Her soul broke.

"Please... please... use kuch mat karo..."

"Tumhe shaadi karni hai na?"

She sobbed.

"Karungi... main karungi... please use kuch mat karo..."

Dev smiled.

The smile of a man who had already won.

And without any warning he slammed his lips onto hers.

Jhanvi froze.

Hands dropping to her sides.

Tears falling.

Her eyes drifted to Aryan—standing shattered, flower fallen at his feet.

"Shayad yahi rasta hai..." she thought.

Whereas;

Aryan was on his way with Arushi and Aahan to meet Jhanvi.

He wanted to give her something—something small, but full of meaning.

When they reached her house, another car was parked outside.

Aahan said while removing his seatbelt:

"Bhai, aap aage badho. Main car park karke aata hoon."

Aryan nodded, slipping back into his act, holding the toy again...

and the rose for Jhanvi in his other hand.

He walked forward slowly, tiny steps, rehearsed innocence...

but the moment his eyes fell on the garden wall, his breath stopped.

His heart dropped before the rose did.

Jhanvi was kissing another man.

The rose slipped from his fingers, hitting the ground softly—

too softly for the storm it created inside him.

He just stood there.

Not blinking.

Not breathing.

Not moving.

Behind him, Arushi and Aahan rushed forward after parking the car, and froze seeing the same scene.

Arushi looked at Aryan—his face blank, unreadable, eerily calm.

But his eyes... his eyes were betraying him.

They didn't ask questions.

They didn't wait.

They immediately took him back toward the car.

No one spoke on the drive.

Not a word.

Aryan's heart was breaking...

but he couldn't show it.

Because for them, right now, he was just a child trapped in an adult body.

To keep the act alive, he asked softly while spinning the toy wheel in his hand:

"Jhanvi... mumma kya kar rahi thi?"

Arushi glanced at the mirror, clearing her throat awkwardly, voice shaking slightly:

"V-woh... uski aankh mein kuch chala gaya tha. Uncle bas wahi nikaal rahe the."

Aryan nodded again.

And started playing with the toy.

But inside?

He wanted to cry.

He wanted to scream.

He wanted to rip the world apart.

Yet he stayed silent.

Because this wasn't the moment to reveal he was healed...

this was the moment to survive the heartbreak without exposing the truth.

As soon as they reached the hotel, Aahan guided Aryan to his room, gently making him lie on the 

bed.

He pulled the blanket over him like one would do for a child, and said softly:

"Bhai, thodi der rest karo. Main aur Arushi kuch kaam se jaa rahe hain, hmm?"

Aryan nodded.

Aahan turned off the bedside lamp and walked out, closing the door quietly behind him

The moment the door closed behind Aahan, Aryan stood up.

No toy.

No slouch.

No childlike eyes.

Just a man healed quietly...

but bleeding loudly inside.

He threw the toy away, crouching beside the bed, pulling out Anjali's photo.

A tear hit the floor.

"Kyu... KYU hume itni takleef mil rahi hai, Jaan?"

"Tumhe main yaad nahi... lekin mujhe laga tha main yaad dila dunga..."

"Jab hum dubara mile the toh..Mujhe laga tha kismat humare saath hai... par main galat tha..."

He clutched the photo to his chest.

"Agar maine tumhara haath us din mazbooti se pakda hota..."

"Toh na ye din aata... na tum kisi aur ki baahon me hoti..."

His voice cracked.

"Main chahoon toh abhi sach bata sakta hoon..."

"Par tumhe dard hoga... jo mujhse bardasht nahi hoga..."

He sobbed harder.

"Bahut kuch jhela hai tumne meri wajah se..."

"Agar kismat me humara na milna likha hai... toh yahi sahi."

His eyes flooded.

"Tumhari zindagi tumse thi... meri zindagi tum thi."

"Tum kisi aur ke saath khush ho... toh yahi sahi."

He whispered, devastated:

"Tumhara Aryan tumse bepanah mohabbat karta hai, Jaan..."

"...kabhi yaad aaye ya na aaye."

He laid on the floor, holding her photo to his heart like a dying vow, whispering one last time:

"Mere liye sab kuch tum hi thi... tum hi ho... tum hi rahogi."