I am posting today only because in the last two chapters, I mentioned the Agnihotri reunion will be come in the next chapter. But again, another chapter was in between and I missed it. So, following the usual schedule, the Agnihotri reunion would come only on Monday's update.. I didn't want to drag on, when I already promised that next chapter would be Agnihotri reunion. This is just a one off. From next week, it would be the usual schedule itself, unless I get 400 votes each chapter...

Third person's pov!

Shraddha's eyes fluttered open, taking in the sterile white walls and the faint beeping of the monitors around her. She tried to move, but every inch of her body throbbed with a dull ache, as if it were echoing the deep, sharper ache in her chest.

Memories crashed back, more painful than her physical wounds—the betrayal, the conversation she had overheard, the heartbreak. Tears blurred her vision, and before she could stop it, a sob slipped out.

In an instant, Dhruv was by her side, his eyes filled with panic.

"Shraddha, baby, is it hurting?" He asked, reaching out to gently touch her, his fingers hovering over her arm as though she were made of glass.

But his touch only made her ache more. Her pain transformed into fury as she jerked her arm away, her voice cold and fierce.

"Don't touch me," she snapped, her words laced with fury. "Just... don't."

Dhruv recoiled, his face stricken, but he quickly tried to gather himself.

"Shraddha, please. Listen to me. It's not how you think," he pleaded, desperation breaking through his calm facade.

"I have heard enough, Dhruv," she said, her voice like ice, her gaze hard as stone. Every wall she had let down for him came slamming back up, sealing her heart away from him.

"No... no, Shraddha, you misunderstood," he said, reaching out again.

"What part did I misunderstand, Dhruv?" She shot back, sarcasm dripping from every word. "You came to Mussoorie because Diya asked you to, because she suspected I was having an affair with Siddhant ji. She wanted me gone, out of her picture. Right? I heard your friend's words clearly."

Dhruv flinched, but he didn't deny it.

"Yes, Diya suspected it," he admitted, looking down as though he could hide from the truth. "She called me and... she pleaded with me to get you out of their lives. I panicked, Shraddha. I was worried. So I rushed over."

Shraddha let out a cold chuckle that echoed in the quiet room.

"And you succeeded, didn't you? You got me out of their lives, far away, all the way to Bangalore. You even married me for good measure." Her laughter held no warmth, just raw, biting bitterness.

Dhruv's face softened, his voice wavering.

"I didn't know you then, Shraddha. I believed Diya because... because she is my sister. But once I met you, once I got to know you—"

She cut him off, raising her palm to silence him.

"I am not interested in hearing your stories, Dhruv. You have already manipulated me with enough of those. No more." Her tone was so fierce it left him speechless for a moment.

"Listen to me, please. Just this once," Dhruv begged, desperation making his voice crack.

"No," she said, her voice like steel. "No, you listen to me, Dhruv." She stared at him, unflinching, her words icy enough to freeze him in place. "You said you didn't know me back then. But you knew Siddhant ji, didn't you? It's obvious he is madly in love with your sister. Isn't it?"

Dhruv clenched his jaw.

"He's always around you, Shraddha. Always finding some excuse to talk to you alone. I can't even blame Diya for suspecting him. I saw it myself, more times than I can count."

Shraddha let out a humorless chuckle, shaking her head.

"You saw what you wanted to see and came to the conclusion that Siddhant ji and I were having an affair. Just like that?"

Dhruv looked away, shame settling on his face.

"I suspected he was interested in you. But I didn't suspect you, Shraddha. Once I got to know you, I knew you wouldn't have an affair with a married man," he said, his voice trembling as he tried to convey his sincerity.

"How convenient to say that now, isn't it, Dhruv? After everything that's happened." Shraddha scoffed.

"You have to believe me, Shraddha. I made a mistake, but my intentions were never to hurt you." He looked at her with pleading eyes. Her eyes hardened further.

"If your intentions weren't wrong, why didn't you tell me about these suspicions yourself?" Shraddha asked and Dhruv struggled to respond to that.

"Your sister is sick, Dhruv," she said sharply, her tone laced with anger. "She is suffering from postpartum depression. It went unnoticed and untreated, and now she is severely depressed. Siddhant ji has been beside himself with worry, trying to keep her stable, trying to get her the help she needs."

"What... what are you saying?" Dhruv froze, his expression shifting from confusion to shock.

"Those 'secret conversations' you think you saw? They were all about Diya's condition. He was trying to protect her, to keep her illness under control. And because I noticed it first, he found a friend in me, someone who understood. He didn't tell you because he was afraid you would swoop in, overbearing as always, and ruin everything with your suspicions and arrogance." Shraddha's eyes narrowed, her voice colder than ever.

Dhruv's face turned pale, horror dawning on him as he took in her words. He staggered backward, almost collapsing onto the bystander bed as he tried to process what she was saying.

"The month-long trip to Kerala!" Shraddha continued, unrelenting. "It's not a vacation, Dhruv. They went to an ayurvedic ashram for her treatment. Siddhant ji has been doing everything he can to save his wife, your sister, from the depths of this illness while you were busy doubting him—and me."

Dhruv stared at her, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled for words. He looked shattered, the weight of his misunderstanding settling heavily on his shoulders.

His hands were trembling as he covered his face, disbelief mixing with remorse as he sank further into the bed, utterly broken by the revelation.

Shraddha watched him, her own heart breaking as she saw the man who had betrayed her now drowning in the depth of his mistake. But she didn't reach out to comfort him. Instead, she closed her eyes, tears slipping silently down her cheeks, knowing that this pain was something he needed to feel.

As Dhruv sat there, shattered by the weight of his own misunderstandings , the door creaked open. He looked up, expecting the usual flurry of nurses or perhaps the doctor making his rounds.

Instead, his gaze fell upon a group entering the room—the Agnihotris.

Abhay Dev stepped in first, followed by Siddharth and Niranjan Agnihotri.

But it was the older woman who stole Dhruv's breath and sent his heart plunging into his stomach.

She stood there, the very image of Shraddha in another thirty years—features strikingly familiar, softened only by the passage of time.

Her eyes held the same depth, the same warmth, but her expression screamed agony and joy all together as she gazed at Shraddha.

For a moment, Dhruv felt as if the ground beneath him was crumbling.

His breath caught as he stared at her, unable to process what he was seeing.

The resemblance was too uncanny, too surreal, as if he were staring into a future that felt unreachable, and yet, right before him.

A/n

Agnihotri reunion in the next chapter...pakka!

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Love,

SF❤️