Third person's pov!

The house was eerily quiet as Shraddha paced around, glancing at the clock for what felt like the hundredth time. It was past midnight, much later than Dhruv had said he'd be home, and her heart was pounding with anxiety. The silence of the big house only seemed to amplify her growing fear. Every creak of the walls, every whisper of wind outside made her jump.

She picked up her phone for the fourth time, her fingers trembling as she dialled Dhruv's number again. It rang and rang, but there was no answer. Shraddha's heart sank further with every passing second. Why isn't he picking up? she thought, her worry quickly spiralling into dread. What if something's happened to him?

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes as the possibilities filled her mind—an accident, some kind of trouble, anything could've gone wrong. The thought of him being hurt, or worse, made her stomach churn. She felt completely helpless.

And then, the doorbell rang.

Her heart leapt into her throat, and she rushed to the door, her hands shaking as she fumbled with the lock. She swung it open, and the sight before her made all the blood drain from her face.

Dhruv stood there, completely drunk, barely able to hold himself up. His arm was slung over Sai's shoulder, who was helping to support his weight.

"Dhruv..." Shraddha's voice wavered as she took in his dishevelled appearance, his eyes barely open, his shirt wrinkled and stained. He looked like a stranger to her at that moment. Her chest tightened with a mix of fear and confusion. How could he have let this happen?

"Uh, sorry, bhabhi," Sai muttered, his voice filled with awkwardness as he avoided her gaze. "Dhruv got a bit drunk. I'll help him to his room."

Shraddha could only nod, too shocked to respond. Her feet felt heavy as she followed them inside, her heart breaking with every step. She watched as Sai struggled to get Dhruv into the bedroom, practically dumping him onto the bed with a sigh of relief.

Dhruv, completely sloshed, was already half-asleep, mumbling incoherently. His body sagged into the mattress, oblivious to the chaos he had caused in her heart.

Shraddha stood frozen by the door, tears welling up in her eyes as she looked at him. The man she loved, the man she thought she knew, was lying there in a drunken stupor, completely unaware of the turmoil he had left her in.

"What happened to him, Sai ji?" Shraddha asked, her voice small and breaking with emotion.

"I don't know, bhabhi," Sai replied, running a hand through his hair. "I found him at a pub. The bartender called me from Dhruv's phone. I was saved as the emergency contact. He said Dhruv was too drunk to drive. I didn't know what else to do."

Shraddha swallowed hard, nodding as she tried to keep her composure. "Thank you for bringing him home," she whispered.

Sai nodded, gave her an apologetic look, and left. As the door clicked shut behind him, the weight of the situation settled on her. The house was quiet again, except for Dhruv's uneven breathing.

She locked the door and returned to the bedroom, her steps slow and hesitant. Dhruv was fast asleep now, his face peaceful in his unconscious state. But to her, it was a cruel contrast to the storm raging inside her. She stood at the foot of the bed, her eyes filling with tears.

'How could he do this?' she thought, the hurt cutting deep. 'Didn't he know I was here, waiting for him? Scared, worried?'

Her mind spiralled as the painful thoughts took over. 'Do I even mean anything to him?' The question echoed in her heart, louder with every beat. 'Or am I just... convenient?' A convenient presence in his life, someone who wouldn't question him, someone who would always be there, no matter how much he ignored her or hurt her.

Tears slipped down her cheeks as her insecurities, the ones she had tried so hard to bury, clawed their way to the surface. 'Was this what I am to him? Someone he could take for granted? Someone whose feelings didn't matter as long as he was living his life?'

Her chest ached with every thought. She had given him everything—her heart, her life, her trust. And now, all she could do was wonder if it was enough, if she was enough.

She sank to the floor beside the bed, too drained to hold herself up any longer. Her knees drew to her chest, and she rested her head against the edge of the bed, silent tears slipping down her face. The weight of her thoughts pressed down on her, so heavy that she couldn't breathe.

'Why does this hurt so much?' she wondered, her heart breaking with every unanswered question. She had never felt more alone, sitting in the same room as the man she loved, yet feeling like she was miles away.

With her mind swirling in doubt and pain, she slowly drifted into a restless sleep, her body slumped against the bed, tears staining her cheeks as her heart ached for answers she wasn't sure she'd ever get.

Dhruv woke up with a pounding headache, the dull throb behind his temples making him groan. He rubbed his eyes and squinted at the unfamiliar brightness of the morning light streaming through the window. For a brief moment, he couldn't remember what had happened the night before. Then, it all came crashing back, hitting him like a tidal wave.

The story Uncle Madan had told him—the betrayal, the hidden past—it gnawed at him. His chest tightened at the memory of Aunt Amritha's guilty expression, confirming that every word Uncle Madan had said was true. Dhruv ran his hands through his hair in frustration, trying to push the memories aside, but they clung to him like shadows.

He sighed, his mind still racing, when suddenly his heart skipped a beat.

Shraddha.

Panic surged through him. How could he have forgotten her? He quickly glanced beside him on the bed, only to find it empty.

Damn it!

He closed his eyes, trying to piece together the fragments of last night. He remembered being at the pub, drowning in one drink after another, trying to numb the storm of emotions. But after that, everything was a blur. How had he gotten home? He couldn't recall. And then the realisation hit him like a punch to the gut—Shraddha had been home alone. He had left her waiting, worried, and he had come home drunk out of his senses.

'How could I have done this to her?'

His eyes scanned the room, desperate to find her, when he saw her—hunched on the floor beside the bed, leaning against it, Dhruv's breath hitched in his throat.

A/N

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SF❤️