|| FLASKBACK ||
~3 years 8 Months Ago~

The November morning wrapped the world in its quiet, cozy embrace. Outside the window, a soft mist lingered over the landscape, clinging to the last hints of night as if reluctant to let go. The trees, bare from the first touches of winter, stood silhouetted against the pale light breaking on the horizon, casting long shadows over the empty street. The world seemed still, like it was holding its breath, waiting for the sun to rise fully and bring warmth to the cool dawn.

Armaan stood by the window of their bedroom, gazing at the road below. The dark hues of the night were slowly giving way to a soft, glowing red as the sun crept over the distant buildings. Today was a new beginning, one that filled him with a surge of emotions all at once. Excitement, nervousness, and joy thrummed through his veins, making it impossible for him to catch more than a few hours of restless sleep the night before. Today was the day they would hold a small puja in the new office space of the firm he and Dev had built from scratch. It felt monumental — not just for his career, but for him personally. This was a fresh start, the kind he had dreamed of but hardly dared to believe would be possible.

As he stood there, the last three and a half months replayed in his mind like a movie. It was hard to believe how quickly time had flown by. It felt like only yesterday when he’d stepped out of the Poddar Mansion with Abhira by his side, determined to build a life from scratch. But even with Abhira’s unwavering support, the scars left by the Poddars were still buried in his subconscious. In quiet moments, the old insecurities and doubts would resurface, remnants of the emotional wounds they’d left on him. Yet now, standing here, he could feel how far he had come. He was healing, slowly piecing himself back together, carving out an identity that was finally his own.

His mind drifted to the day he had said yes to Dev’s offer. It had been a turning point, a lifeline during a time when he was drifting. In these past three months, he and Dev had spent countless hours developing their vision for the firm. Together, they had brainstormed, argued, and refined their ideas until every detail was just right. Once they had the plan in place, they began hunting for the perfect office space, pouring over different locations until they found one that felt like home. After that, they navigated the arduous tasks of securing permissions from the Bar Council, finding investors, and setting up the logistics of the firm. It had been a challenging journey — a path where each step forward seemed weighed down by the tainted reputation both he and Dev bore in Udaipur’s legal fraternity, courtesy of the Poddars.

Both he and Dev had decided to stay away from any attention, carefully avoiding anything that could raise questions or stir gossip. He hadn’t shared his plans with anyone in his family — not even Madhav, or the chorus gang, or Manisha and Manoj. Somewhere deep down, he knew involving the family would only invite more trouble for him and Abhira. For now, it was safer, simpler, to build quietly, to lay the foundation of their dreams away from the Poddars’ influence.

In the hustle to build the firm, both Dev and Armaan had got some of their clients back, while Dev was able to connect to clients from his previous legal endeavors who had to deviate beacuse of his firm shutting down, Armaan had some of his clients finding their way back to him. It was then Armaan realised, that Rohit and Sanjay together were not able to provide the quality work he had been providing those clients with over years and this sorts of had boosted his ego.

In the middle of all the professional chaos, one constant had kept him going — his silly, joyful Abhira, who waited for him every evening. No matter how messy or overwhelming the day, he always knew that back home, his Abhira would be there, her smile filling their little world with light and laughter.

His silly girl. His Abhira.

He glanced over his shoulder, a soft smile tugging at his lips as his eyes fell on her sleeping form after she had a exhausting day at the court managing two back to back hearings. She lay snugly curled against his pillow, her frame wrapped in their thick blanket, hair splayed out messily over the pillow. She looked so peaceful, so much like a baby that it warmed his heart. The morning light kissed her face, and he felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for everything she had been to him — not just as a wife, but as a partner, his support, his grounding force.

She had contributed so much to this dream of his, despite juggling her own commitments. Abhira had shared her insights and ideas with him and Dev, her suggestions surprising them both with their depth and practicality. She’d been there through every setback, every late night, standing by his side with unwavering faith. Financially, things had been tight, and he’d been busier than ever, their precious time together often slipping away as he worked late. But no matter how hard things got, they navigated this new life as a team.

Every day brought new lessons, little glimpses into the reality of married life. They had their fights, moments of frustration that sometimes stretched into hours of silence. But no matter what, they made it a point to resolve every issue before they slept, always choosing to end the day on a note of peace.

Armaan felt his heart swell with pride and love for her. This journey had been challenging, but knowing he had Abhira by his side made everything worth it. She was his anchor, his joy, the one who made this new chapter feel not just possible, but meaningful.

As he stood there, soaking in the quiet beauty of the morning, he made a silent promise to himself: to cherish this life they were building together, to protect the happiness they had created, and to love her with everything he had.

Armaan glanced at the clock beside their bed and saw that it was still only 6:00 in the morning. They had plenty of time before the day’s events began, but the excitement thrumming in his veins kept his mind restless. Knowing he couldn’t just lie there, he decided to make himself useful — he’d get their clothes ready for the puja.

He moved to their cupboard, thoughtfully sliding the doors open, eyes scanning through the options. After a few moments, he settled on a white and gold kurta for himself, and for Abhira, a beautiful beige and golden saree. He paused, fingers brushing over the saree’s intricate, delicate patterns. This saree had belonged to his mother, Shivani, a discovery they’d made together just weeks ago while exploring the storeroom. Abhira had been thrilled, calling it and many other saree’s, pieces of oxidised silver jewellery a gift from her mother-in-law, and cherished it as though it was given directly to her.

Tracing the golden embroidery, Armaan closed his eyes and whispered softly, “Mumma, your son is taking his first step toward a new life today. I need your blessings.” The warmth of the fabric under his fingers felt almost like her presence, as if she were here, standing by his side.

In these months since stepping away from the Poddars, he had grown closer to Shivani, not just through memories but through the person he’d discovered she wanted him to become. Her diaries, filled with loving entries and glimpses of her dreams, had revealed to him a mother who cherished her family deeply and wanted her son to lead a life filled with love, kindness, and strength.

He’d read nearly every diary he could find, pored over family albums that captured old photos of her, Madhav, and himself as a boy. Each page, each picture was a reminder of the roots he’d always had but had never fully understood. Through these memories, he felt as if he’d connected not only with her but also with himself, the man he was always meant to be.

Moving quietly, he gathered the saree and kurta, heading to the spare room where he could iron everything without disturbing Abhira’s sleep. He worked carefully, smoothing every crease, making sure the fabric was just right. It was difficult not to think of the possibilities ahead, but he focused instead on perfecting this simple task. Once finished, he placed the saree and kurta on hangers, giving them a quick, approving look before heading back to their room.

As he walked in, he heard soft, muffled sounds coming from the bed. He looked over and saw Abhira tossing under the blanket, her brows furrowed, clearly annoyed. He stifled a chuckle as he stepped closer, watching her turn and murmur something. It seemed she’d just realized that the pillow she was clutching was not, in fact, him.

This had become a regular sight over the past months. Abhira, now carefree and unburdened by their past conflicts, had slipped back into being the girl he’d met in Mussoorie — playful, vulnerable, a bit spoiled in the best ways. She couldn’t fall asleep without him beside her anymore; even if they went to bed on opposite sides after a disagreement, she would somehow, in her sleep, find her way into his arms by morning. Armaan would laugh at how both of them would be cocconed on the small edge of the bed with Abhira’s legs wrapped around him, her head on his chest, arms snuggled securely around his waist — she’d claimed him as her territory, a habit that had become as natural as breathing.

Unable to resist, he walked over to the bed and sat down beside her. Leaning down, he planted a gentle kiss on her temple, and almost immediately, she stilled, turning instinctively to face him. Her eyes opened just a sliver, heavy with sleep as she squinted up at him.

Without a word, she slipped one hand out of the blanket and held it up to him, silently asking him to come closer. He felt his heart swell at the sight, unable to deny her request even for a second.

He slid into bed beside her, and she immediately wrapped herself around him, resting her head on his chest and whispering in a soft, sleepy voice, “Khadusmaan…” The word, filled with warmth and a love only she could give, melted whatever tension he had left.

Armaan held her close, one arm cradling her, while his other hand gently stroked her hair. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and murmured, “Go back to sleep, silly girl.”

“Mmm…” she mumbled something incoherent, already drifting off in his arms.

He lay there quietly, watching her breathe, her trust in him steady and complete, filling him with a peace that made every struggle worth it. Just being here, holding her, was more than enough. The morning light began to fill the room, but for now, all he wanted was this moment — just him, Abhira, and the soft promise of a new day ahead.

An hour and a half later, the peaceful silence that had enveloped Armaan and Abhira’s home was shattered, replaced by a bustling chaos as the two of them moved about, trying to finish their morning chores while also getting ready for the puja. Both were on their toes, darting from one corner of the house to the other, with Abhira managing last-minute arrangements and Armaan bouncing between tasks, his usual calm demeanor mixed with a rare fluster.

After some negotiation — or rather, Abhira’s gentle insistence — Armaan found himself pushed toward the kitchen. He’d tried his best to convince her that they could get ready together, thinking they could save time by helping each other with their outfits, but Abhira knew better. Her husband had a tendency to get... distracted. She could already envision how he would keep stopping to fix her hair or trace his fingers over her bare shoulder, possibly stealing a kiss or two along the way. Instead of saving time, they’d end up losing track of it altogether. So, with a gentle shove and a teasing smile, she’d nudged him out of the room, saying, “You handle breakfast, khadusmaan.”

Now in the kitchen, Armaan busied himself with preparing a simple breakfast of toast and tea. He could have made something more elaborate, but with time ticking down and knowing he’d soon be back at Abhira’s side, he settled for quick and easy. The faint aroma of tea filled the air, mixing with the comforting smell of toast as he placed the dishes neatly on the table, admiring his handiwork.

Just as he was setting down the last cup, a loud, slightly exasperated call of his name echoed from the bedroom.

"Khadusmaannnnnnn"

Armaan couldn’t help but chuckle, knowing exactly why she was calling. He strolled back to their room, leaning casually against the doorframe and taking in the sight before him — his beautiful wife, standing in front of the mirror, her saree halfway draped and struggling to get the pleats just right.

“Koi mujhe keh raha ki usse meri help ki zaroorat nahi hai” he spoke, crossing his arms with a playful smirk.

Abhira glanced at him through the mirror, trying her best to hold her ground despite the way her face softened in relief at seeing him there. “Oh Hello, kudh ko itni importance dena band karo,” she defended, her fingers fumbling with the fabric. “I just… I wasn’t calling you for help. I just… wanted to check if you’re done with breakfast.”

“Right,” Armaan teased, walking closer. “Because clearly, you’re managing perfectly without me.” He moved behind her, his hands slipping to her waist as he pulled her closer. Abhira’s heart raced at the proximity that the saree’s edge fell from her hands. “What was that you were saying about me being a distraction?”

She tried to look up and narrow her eyes at him through the mirror, hoping to compose herself. “I can.. I can still get ready without you.. you know.”

“Of course, biwi,” he chuckled "tum hulk ki mameri behan ho, tum sab kar sakti ho." He turned her in his arms and bent down expertly folding the pleats one by one. “But it seems like, in the end, you needed me just as much as I said you would.”

Abhira took a sharp intake of breath, her senses heightened as she felt his warm breath grazing her exposed waist. She tried to keep her expression neutral, but the way his fingers brushed against her skin made it nearly impossible. “I could have done it myself, Armaan,” she murmured, her voice catching slightly as she watched his steady hands in the mirror.

He raised an eyebrow, catching her gaze in the mirror, his eyes dark and intent. “Oh? Then what’s with the SOS call?” he teased, his voice a low murmur that sent a shiver down her spine.

She bit her lip, feeling the heat of his gaze. “Fine, maybe I did need a little help. But don’t let it get to your head.”

His lips curled into a smirk, his hand lingering just a moment too long as he finished tucking the fabric securely. “Oh, I won’t,” he replied, his voice a low rumble, “but just know I’ll always be here… whenever you need me.” The way he said it felt like a promise that carried weight beyond just this moment.

Abhira’s breath hitched, her pulse quickening as his fingers lingered against her waist. She leaned back, her back pressing against his chest, as his arm wrapped around her instinctively, pulling her close once again. She could feel his heartbeat, steady and strong, matching the warmth that was building between them. A soft smile played on her lips as she looked at herself in the mirror, “Thank you,” her voice barely above a whisper.

Armaan’s lips brushed her shoulder, lingering for just a heartbeat longer than necessary, his warmth leaving her feeling unsteady. “Anytime,” he murmured against her skin, his breath warm and tantalizing.

Reluctantly, he moved a step back, his fingers trailing down her arm before releasing her hand. “Now, finish getting ready. Breakfast is waiting,” he said, his voice rougher than before.

She rolled her eyes, but her heart raced as she reached out, tugging him back for one more hug, savoring the closeness. “Alright, alright. But remember, next time, I’ll handle it on my own.”

He chuckled, his lips brushing against her ear. “We’ll see, biwi. We’ll see.”

As Armaan was about to step out of the room, he paused, a sudden thought pulling him back. He turned, his gaze meeting Abhira’s in the mirror, catching the soft, unguarded look in her eyes as she watched him walk back. Something in that moment made him decide to stay, to savor the rare, delicate minutes they had to themselves before the day would be filled with rituals and visitors.

Without a word, he approached her, reaching out to the small velvet box of jewelry on the dresser. His fingers brushed the delicate jhumkas she’d chosen, and he picked them up, stepping close to where she stood, rooted.

Abhira tilted her head to look up at him, her eyes widening slightly as she realized what he intended. “Armaan…” she whispered, a soft blush blooming on her cheeks.

He only smiled, holding her gaze in the mirror, gently lifting the earring to her ear. He brushed a few stray locks behind her ear, his fingers lingering for just a second longer, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath his fingertips. Carefully, he fastened the jhumka, his touch featherlight yet stirring something deep within both of them.

She closed her eyes briefly as he repeated the gesture with the other earring, his movements tender and precise. He leaned closer, his lips brushing the shell of her ear, sending a soft shiver down her spine. “Beautiful,” he murmured, his voice a low whisper only meant for her.

He moved on to her bangles, picking them up one by one and sliding them over her delicate wrists. Each bangle chimed as he placed it on, a rhythmic melody that seemed to echo the fluttering in her heart. His fingers wrapped around her wrist, steadying her as he slid the last bangle on, taking his time, savoring each touch, each shared glance.

Abhira watched him, the quiet intensity in his eyes as he focused on each accessory. It felt as if every piece he placed on her held a silent promise, a reassurance that he was there, anchoring her. The room around them seemed to disappear, leaving only the two of them cocooned in a world of their own.

Finally, he reached for the small box that held the sindoor. His gaze softened as he opened it, dipping his fingers gently into the red powder. His movements slowed as he brought his hand up, brushing aside the hair that fell across her forehead. He leaned in close, close enough that she could feel his breath warm against her skin, and he carefully applied the sindoor to her parting, the red powder vivid against her dark hair.

Their eyes met in the mirror again, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. Abhira’s heart raced, her breath catching at the way he looked at her, like she was the only person that mattered in his world. There was love in his eyes, a quiet reverence that made her feel cherished beyond words

She reached up, resting her hand over his shoulder as she leaned forward, “Yeh tumhari Favourite Hobby hai na?” she asked, her voice soft, but brimming with a tease. “Bas aise hi Sindoor laga dena.”

Armaan passed her a teasing smile, “Absolutely Wifey, main udaipur ki har chalti phirti ladki ko sindoor hi toh lagta rehta hun.”

Abhira narrowed her eyes at him as she grabbed his collar in an attempt to pull him but instead crashed into his chest, “Agar aisa karne ka soncha bhi na Poddar Sahab, aapki haddis toh ke premanently aapko Dada Ji bana dungi.”

“Tum kitni violent types ki ho biwi, aapne bechare pati pe no taras ??” Armaan lifted his hands up surrendering to the little women in front of him.

“Tumhe main violent types ki lagti hun?” Abhira asked annoyed and as if to annoy her a little more Armaan nodded with a grin. “Toh deal with it, kyunki main jaisi bhi hun..”

“Meri Ho,”He placed his hands on her shoulders, letting them slide down to her arms, pulling her gently against him. “Abhira…” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “Today, tomorrow… every day, I want to be right here with you.”

For a brief, precious moment, they stood there, wrapped in each other’s presence, their souls intertwining as they readied themselves to step into a new chapter of their lives.

________

As the morning sun climbed higher, casting a soft golden glow across the city, Armaan and Abhira arrived at the new office, a space that held both excitement and promise. The office was a joint vision of Armaan and Dev, something they’d built after endless debates, late-night plans, hard work, and dreams of a fresh start. Today, it would be inaugurated with a puja, marking a new beginning in both their professional and personal lives.

The space was decorated simply yet beautifully, adorned with fresh marigold garlands and diyas, casting a warm, inviting glow. Armaan and Dev had chosen a modest but well-located building in the heart of the city—a place that could grow with them, a place they could call their own. Dev was already there, standing by the entrance in conversation with One of his close Associates, his face lighting up with a warm smile as he spotted the couple walking in.

“Finally!” Dev grinned, pulling Armaan into a quick hug. “I thought that our this mad in love couple would take forever to come.”

Armaan chuckled, nudging him. “Blame her, she was the one beacuse of whom we got late,” throwing an teasing look at Abhira, who twisted her face ready to beat Armaan blue black.

Dev Sensed where this was heading and much to his liking the pandit ji called for them. Together, they approached the small altar that had been set up in the center of the office, where a priest was already waiting. Abhira carefully set down a silver thali she had brought, filled with sacred items for the ceremony—a diya, incense sticks, and prasad. She glanced over at Armaan, her eyes alight with excitement, and he gave her a reassuring nod.

The priest began chanting the mantras, the sacred sounds filling the room, creating an atmosphere of peace and solemnity. Armaan sat cross-legged beside Abhira, holding her hand as the priest guided them through the rituals. Every so often, his thumb would trace gentle circles over her knuckles, a small gesture that reassured her, grounding them both in the moment.

They had debated endlessly on who would be sitting for the puja and Dev somehow had convinced the two of them to do so.

As the flames of the diya flickered, casting their gentle light, the priest asked them to bow their heads in prayer, seeking blessings for their new journey. Abhira closed her eyes, whispering her hopes for this new chapter in both Armaan and Dev’s Life—a wish for success, resilience, and the strength to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

When it was time to make the offering, Dev joined them, taking a seat next to Armaan. The three of them lit incense sticks together, symbolizing the unity of their bond, their commitment to this venture they were building from the ground up.

The priest then handed Armaan a coconut wrapped in red cloth, instructing him to break it as a mark of purity and good fortune, which Armaan forwarded to Dev. With a quick, steady motion, Dev struck it, the coconut cracking open with a satisfying sound. The priest smiled approvingly, blessing the pieces and declaring their venture blessed.

As the puja concluded, Armaan took Abhira’s hand and whispered, “This is to a new beginning, A fresh start, not just for this office, but for us.”

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with pride and tenderness. “And I couldn’t imagine a better partner to do it with,” she replied softly.

Dev cleared his throat, grinning as he handed them both a piece of prasad. “Alright, enough of this mushy, lovey-dowey stuff,” he joked, trying to mask his own sentimentality. “Tum dono yeh kyun bhool jate ho ki main bhi yahan hun, aur single hun.”

The two of them looked away trying to mask the blush that crept on their cheeks.

Dev raised an eyebrow at them, a smirk playing on his lips. “Oh Hello, lovebirds, are we here to work, or are we about to witness another episode of the ‘Abhimaan ki Prem Kahani’? Because I didn’t sign up to be the third wheel on opening day.”

Armaan grinned, unfazed. “Oh, come on, Dev, You’re practically the show’s number one fan.”

“Fan?” Dev scoffed, pretending to look horrified. “Please, I’m the long-suffering friend who’s here out of loyalty. Someone’s got to keep you two grounded.”

Abhira laughed, “More like you’re here to bask in our glow, Mr. ‘I’m-Too-Cool-For-Commitment.’ Admit it, Dev Sir, you’re taking notes.”

Dev placed a hand over his heart, faking offense. “I’ll have you two know, I don’t need notes. I’m already irresistible.”

“Oh really?” Abhira folded her arms, raising a brow at him and exaggerating a bit, “Then why does every girl you date mysteriously ‘move to a different country’ after a few months?”

“Not every girl,” Dev replied, chuckling. “Just the ones who can’t handle greatness.”

Armaan laughed, shaking his head. “Yeah, greatness or the fact that you ‘forget’ to text back for days?”

Dev shrugged, unbothered. “I’m just a busy guy. Besides don't make it seem like i am on a different date every day.”

“Well Ohk not everyday,” Abhira quipped, rolling her eyes. “But you got to admit the disappearing in the middle of a conversation thing?”

Dev shot her a mock glare. “I’ll have you know, Mrs. Romance Expert, that it’s called ‘building suspense.’ I’m giving them something to miss.”

Armaan snorted. “More like leaving them confused and wondering why they ever swiped right.”

“Oh, so now the expert’s in the house, huh?” Dev threw his hands up, glancing at Abhira. “Tell me, Abhira, what’s it like living with Mr. Perfect? Does he do all the dishes and remember everything?”

Abhira smirked, giving Armaan a side glance. “Well, let’s just say he’s gotten better at remembering things since I started hiding his  bottles of hair gel if he forgets.”

Dev burst out laughing, clapping his hands. “Savage! I knew you’d be the one to keep him on his toes.”

Armaan shook his head, trying to look serious but failing. “You two against me? Really? And here I thought today was supposed to be special.”

Abhira placed a hand on his arm, giving him an exaggeratedly sweet smile. “It is special, khadoosmaan. It’s the day you learn that you’re officially outnumbered.”

“Oh, I’ve learned that already,” he muttered, pulling her close. “But remember, I get the last word.”

“Sure you do,” Dev chimed in, clapping him on the shoulder. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, buddy.”

Abhira giggled. “Don’t worry, Dev Sir, and I will keep you humble.”

Armaan shook his head, defeated but smiling. “Great One of the best days of my life has officially turned into ‘Roast Armaan Day.’”

Dev and Abhira laughed, and for a moment, the new office echoed with the sound of their lighthearted banter, the kind of laughter that marked a new beginning.

__________

The once lively and laughter-filled Poddar Mansion hall now lay shrouded in an unsettling quiet. The walls that had echoed with the family’s voices felt hollow, the air thick with a silence that lingered from unresolved tension and bitterness. The sudden tapping of Sanjay’s shoes on the cold marble broke the quiet, drawing the eyes of everyone scattered throughout the hall and nearby sitting areas.

With his usual authoritative demeanor, Sanjay approached Kaveri, a knowing smirk on his face as he held out his phone, showing her something on the screen. She squinted at it before her expression twisted, eyes narrowing as she took in what she was seeing—a video, a news clip perhaps, filled with images and words that fueled her fury.

“Dekh rahi hai aap Maa saa,” Sanjay spoke with a sneer, his voice laced with disdain. “Kis hadh tak gir gaya hai Armaan aab. He’s not just left the family; he’s started a a new firm with Dev Shekhawat, flaunting his new so-called independence.”

Kaveri’s face contorted with rage as she processed the news, her grip tightening on the phone before she flung it aside, sending it skidding across the floor. The device clattered, and the sound echoed through the hall, underscoring her uncontained anger. “So, Armaan has decided to disgrace us further,” she spat, voice dripping with venom. “And that woman—Abhira. She’s ruined him, blinded him to his own blood, his own family! Both of them are nothing but shameful traitors!”

Nearby, Madhav and Vidya exchanged a look, their expressions contrasting sharply with the others’. Beneath their calm exterior was a glimmer of pride and silent gratitude toward Abhira for being the unwavering support Armaan needed. They knew that she had become his anchor, helping him forge a new path with courage and resilience. Despite the bitterness around them, they held hope that this new venture would bring happiness and fulfillment to their son.

Manoj and Manisha, sitting close to each other, shared a quiet prayer, fingers intertwined in subtle solidarity. They wished only for Armaan and Abhira’s success and peace, hoping they’d continue to rise above the negativity of the past. Both held onto a sense of relief, believing that perhaps now, with some distance, the constant strain between family members might ease, giving Armaan and Abhira the chance to truly flourish.

Across the room, Rohit sat in silence, his eyes fixed on the floor as he absorbed the news. A part of him felt a strange satisfaction, knowing that Armaan was finally out of both his professional and personal life. Yet, there was an emptiness, an unspoken truth he couldn’t shake. Deep down, he was aware of Armaan’s competence, a shadow he’d always tried to escape. But today, as Armaan carved his own path, Rohit couldn’t deny a certain admiration, though he would never admit it aloud.

Ruhi, meanwhile, felt a pang of disappointment twist in her chest. Somewhere, she had harbored a hope that Armaan might one day return to the Poddar family fold—that perhaps time would smooth the rough edges and he’d find his way back. The news of his joint venture with Dev left a bitter taste, signaling that he had truly moved on, leaving no room for the dreams she had once allowed herself to envision.

Krish, Aryaan, and Kiara exchanged knowing smiles, their eyes reflecting a quiet pride for their bhaiya and bhabhi. They whispered wishes of good fortune for the two, their young hearts thrilled to see Armaan’s courage to pursue his dreams and set an example of independence. The trio admired their brother’s determination and resilience, his choice to stand by his principles, even if it meant stepping away from the family’s traditional legacy.

But one person’s reaction was vastly different from the rest. Charu sat silently, her eyes slightly glazed as her mind replayed the name Dev Shekhawat, over and over. She had barely noticed the others’ reactions; her thoughts had spiraled back into a torrent of memories—long-buried, tangled fragments of her past. Her gaze was distant, recalling every interaction, every unspoken word between her and Dev. For months, she had dismissed the echoes of her memories, but now, with Dev's return into Armaan’s life, the unresolved remnants of her past stirred anew.

Kaveri, however, felt none of these nuanced reflections. Her thoughts were a storm of anger and frustration as she processed the reality of Armaan’s decision.

He had truly broken free.

She realized with a shock that only fueled her resentment. Armaan’s decision to start this venture was a clear signal that he had severed ties—not just with the family business, but with her influence, her control, her authority. It was as though he had reclaimed his identity entirely, choosing a path that rejected her legacy and defied her expectations.

And it all led back to Abhira. Kaveri’s jaw tightened as she recalled the influence that girl had wielded over her son. The way she’d supported him, encouraged him, pulling him further and further away. It was Abhira, Kaveri concluded bitterly, who had given him the strength to walk away. Armaan’s loyalty, which she had once believed was owed to his family and their legacy, was now directed toward his wife, the woman who had stood by him through it all.

Her anger simmered as she clenched her fists, her gaze darkening with resolve. If Armaan had finally grown bold enough to distance himself from the family, then it was Abhira’s doing. And if she was the reason for his strength, then that strength would be Kaveri’s next target. She’d tear down the very foundation that held Armaan together, the woman who dared to defy her, the one who had won Armaan’s heart, and in turn, stolen his loyalty.

With a low voice and a calculated glint in her eye, Kaveri whispered to herself, “If I cannot bring Armaan back, I’ll make sure Abhira pays the price for every ounce of his defiance.”

*..*..*..*..*..*..*

The book shall now be exploring the dynamics of This new phase for Armaan and Abhira for a few chapters and then move back to the present.

Do let me know ur feedback on this one.

~TheLostSoul