Chapter 76 : Revelation

Ruhaani sat still on the stool in the silent room, the only sound being the rhythmic beeping of the heart rate monitor. Her gaze remained fixed on Aadarsh's face as he lay on the hospital bed, clad in a light blue gown and positioned on his front.

He had received a mild sedative and local anaesthesia to alleviate the pain while the doctor stitched him up. The physician assured her that he would regain consciousness in a few minutes.

Her mind was a cacophony of loud, ugly chaos at the moment. All she desired was for everything to return to normalcy. She yearned for Pari to be okay, for her husband to be okay, for them all to be safe and...happy with each other.

Devashish's words echoed in her ears.

"... or take a stand as his wife and defend him. Cause that's the least he deserves."

Devashish was right. She should have spoken for him, defended him. However, all she thought was in that moment that if only Aadarsh hadn't got involved in someone's brother's death, Pari wouldn't have been kidnapped, wouldn't have got hurt, and wouldn't be battling for life.

Pari was her lifeline, her life-force, her little angel, it pained her physically to see her hurt.

Her gaze drifted to Aadarsh's face. He was the other lifeline. She hated to see him like this. She hated the feeling of hurt and anger she felt for him. Aadarsh deserved better.

He didn't deserve a brother who refused to sign a hospital form because he was angry. He didn't deserve a sister who spoke badly about him while he was hurt. He didn't deserve a wife who kept quiet through it all.

She wiped her silent tears of regret.

However the grief and anger she felt as a mother because her child was manhandled, hurt, bleeding and battling for life overpowered the regret of a wife.

It was perplexing how she could feel anger towards him yet be consumed with worry for his well-being. She wanted to fight with him, be mad at him and at the same time wanted to shower him with all her care and hold him close.

Tears blurred her vision as she grappled with the internal turmoil. It felt unjust, him leaving her stranded amidst this storm of conflicting emotions.

She despised how she found herself in need of him at the moment, realizing she had become relentlessly dependent on him. All her life, she didn't have someone to depend on, but now that she had him, she could hardly cross the ocean on her own. She wanted him to get up and tell her Pari would be okay, that he was okay, that they would all be okay; that it was just a terribly dark night that would pass.

As his finger stirred, she blinked, her body instinctively straightening, her hand poised to grasp his. With bated breath, she waited, every moment stretched taut with anticipation. Gradually, his hand inched once more, and his eyes slowly fluttered open, as if awakening from a long, deep slumber.

"Hey," she murmured softly, her voice a gentle caress in the quiet room. He was okay, her brain told her hyper-active heart. He was okay.

His expression betrayed a hint of confusion as he blinked, struggling to adjust his eyes to the light.

With tenderness, she placed her hand on his, the touch a silent reassurance, while her other hand brushed against his cheek, mindful of the bruise marring his skin—a cruel reminder of the violence he had endured.

"Pain," he managed to utter, his face contorting with discomfort as he attempted to move.

"Stay still," she urged, "the stitches will hurt," her voice was a soothing whisper. Her finger pressed the button on the wall to summon the nurse, as she had been told to do when he regained consciousness.

Though he had been unconscious for only a brief span, each passing minute had felt like an eternity. Her gaze flickered to the monitors, tracking the steady rhythm of his heart as it gradually normalized, a sigh of relief left her lips.

"Pari?" he mumbled, his worry palpable in the single syllable.

"She's still in the operating room. You've only been out for a few minutes," she replied, her voice steady despite the tumult of emotions swirling within her.

He attempted to rise, but a sharp intake of breath and a pained groan halted his efforts, the agony evident even in his slightest movements.

"Aadarsh, don't move. You've just been stitched up," she scolded gently, her worry seeping into her words, as she placed her palm over his bicep, offering both physical and emotional restraint.

The nurse rushed in just in time. "Mister Sehgal do you feel okay?"

Aadarsh managed an affirmative nod.

"Alright, we'll be administering painkillers and antibiotics," the nurse announced, as she hung a bottle of clear liquid on the hook and secured the tubing into the cannula attached to his hand. "Please inform us if you experience unbearable pain, fever, dizziness, or any other symptoms," she added, her gaze briefly flickering towards Ruhaani, silently conveying the same message to her. Ruhaani nodded.

The nurse then requested and motioned for Ruhaani to turn around, requesting her assistance in demonstrating to Aadarsh the location of his wound. The nurse explained the movements he should avoid to prevent straining the torn muscle or inadvertently reopening the stitches.

Aadarsh's listened with a distracted air, his thoughts consumed once more by concerns for Pari's well-being.

He couldn't stop the flashes of her pretty smile, of her cute pouts, of her beautiful innocent eyes running in the forefront of his mind. He couldn't think of anything but the fuzzy warmth she comforted him with every time she nestled herself against his chest. Pari had truly lived up to her name and made him believe there was still a part of him that could love, that could live happily.

The mere notion of anything befalling her sent a shiver down his spine; the weight of potential loss pressing heavily upon his heart. If anything were to happen to her, he feared he'd never forgive himself. The gnawing guilt for entangling her in the perilous situation, was worse than the pain in his sore muscles.

As his gaze shifted to Ruhaani, he wondered if she would ever forgive him for it all.

Once the nurse had given him brief explanation of dos-and-donts Aadarsh requested to be allowed to sit up.

After Aadarsh's persistent requests, the nurse relented, assisting him to sit up with Ruhaani's support.

"Please refrain from using this arm," the nurse instructed, her tone firm yet compassionate, as she fitted a brace around his arm, immobilizing it and securing it to his side with a belt. "Even raising it halfway could strain your injured muscle.".

After the nurse left an uneasy absence of conversation loomed in the room.

"What did the doctor say about Pari? She'll be okay, right?" He spoke.

"They said she has lost a lot of blood, and they're working to replenish it to stabilize her," Ruhaani uttered, her voice devoid of any emotion. As if grief had woven itself so deeply into her being that it no longer manifested on her face.

"She's your daughter. She'll be okay," he offered softly, his gaze fixed on her, yearning to bridge the chasm that seemed to have grown between them. He despised the emotional distance she was maintaining, the protective shield she had erected to keep him at arm's length from her pain.

Ruhaani blinked, her gaze fixed on the floor as she sat on the stool. Her emotions hidden beneath a veil of stoicism.

"I'm sorry," he murmured again, his gaze drifting to the door directly across from the bed where he sat. He wished he could change the situation, he wished he could set everything right. But in this moment, he was powerless, tethered to the confines of his own helplessness.

He turned towards the nightstand on his left, leaning forward to grasp his phone, his mind already racing with plans to reach out to Devashish and seek more recent and detailed updates on Pari's condition. But as a sharp pain twisted in his back like a knife, he groaned, his movements abruptly halted.

"The doctor said not to move. How difficult is it for you to follow instructions? Didn't you hear the nurse's warning about twisting?" Ruhaani's admonishments cascaded forth, her frustration palpable.

Simultaneously, Ruhaani rose from the stool, standing by his bedside, her hands gently straightening his shoulders, offering her support.

Aadarsh clenched his eyes shut, the pain throbbing relentlessly despite the numbing effects of the painkillers. He loathed this sense of helplessness, both physical and metaphorical, that seemed to envelop him.

With swift determination, Ruhaani circled the bed, going on with her scolding, "why is it so hard for you to follow instructions Aadarsh?" She retrieved his phone from the nightstand.

Aadarsh's eyes closely followed her. Anger flickered in her eyes, a glimmer of emotion amidst the numbness, and for him, it felt like a ray of hope amidst the darkness. He could bear her anger, but the void of emotion was unbearable—a void that had the power to alter a person irreversibly. He knew this truth all too well from his own experiences, and he vowed never to let Ruhaani succumb to its consuming grasp.

"I'm... okay," he murmured, his voice tinged with an attempt at reassurance as he looked up at her, sensing the tumult of emotions brewing behind her eyes.

"No. Stop lying to me, Aadarsh. You're not okay, anything but okay. I'm not okay. We are not okay. No one is. Pari is..." Her voice faltered, tears spilling from her eyes, each drop a testament to the depth of her anguish.

His right hand reached out to hers, initially grazing the inside of her palm before intertwining with her fingers, a silent gesture of solidarity. With a gentle tug, he beckoned her closer, making room for her to sit beside him.

She hesitated for a moment before accepting his invitation, her heart heavy with the weight of their shared sorrow.

"Ruhaani..." his feeble voice touched her tenderly just as his right hand cradled her face.

She looked up at him with eyes full of tears, "this is not fair. Pari..." Her sobs overpowered her words.

Aadarsh felt tears prick his own eyes. This was on him. Her unhappiness, her grief and her pain. A pain he deeply shared.

"She's brave, she'll fight it well." He spoke, resting his forehead against hers, as his eyes closed and tears cascaded down his cheeks. He was torn between comforting her and seeking comfort for himself.

They both held onto each other, together in their pain, fear and sorrow, together in midst of the darkest night of their life.

***

Devashish had opted for the fire exit staircase, bypassing the usual routes to reach the floor above, that was currently undergoing renovation and hence closed for public. Entering one of the rooms, he found himself surrounded by scattered wood pieces and chippings, evidence of ongoing construction. Making his way to the window, he flung it open, inviting in the balmy summer air. Even the warm, humid breeze felt refreshing compared to the sterile atmosphere of the hospital.

Gazing out at the midnight sky, clear yet cloaked in darkness, Devashish felt a suffocating weight settle over him at the thought of family. He couldn't fathom how Aadarsh managed to endure his. To do everything for a bunch of idiots and have them return ungratefulness, what a bitter way too torture yourself!

Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved a stick of chewing gum, the simple act of unwrapping it and popping it into his mouth a small comfort in the midst of his turbulent thoughts.

"You're the most horrible man I have ever met," came the familiar voice from behind him, slicing through the stillness of the night. Devashish's gaze instinctively drifted upwards, as if searching the heavens for a reprieve from the relentless drama of the Sehgal family.

The Sehgals could easily star in their own web drama, he mused, a wry smile playing at the corners of his lips. With their tangled relationships and endless complaints and conflicts, they could effortlessly captivate an audience, drawing in passionate viewers who would fervently defend their favourite characters online. What a lucrative venture it would be, requiring minimal effort yet yielding substantial profits.

Turning slowly, Devashish leaned against the window sill, arms folded across his chest as he continued to chew his gum. "You had a different opinion the last time we met," he countered, his grey eyes gleaming with a subtle glint in the dimly lit room.

"I was clearly not in the right mind then!" she retorted.

"And now you are?" he replied, his tone laced with mock amusement.

Ashvi strode towards him, her anger palpable in every step. "You called me a slut in front of my family, you man-whore," she seethed, her hand poised to strike him, but Devashish intercepted her in time, grasping her forearm firmly with his left hand. With a swift motion, he pulled her towards him, effortlessly twisting her arm behind her back and turning her around.

Leaning in close, his breath warm against her ear, he spoke with a chilling calmness, his words cutting through the tension like a knife. "You may be the family's brat, but that doesn't give you free rein to act however you please in front of me. If I had known you were Aadarsh's sister, I would have taken extra precautions that day—maybe even worn protective gear instead of a condom."

"Let go of my hand," Ashvi protested, her free hand clutching at his wrist in a futile attempt to break free.

"Gladly," he remarked, releasing her and pushing her forward, his focus returning to the rhythmic motion of chewing his gum.

"I can't believe I ever thought I liked you," Ashvi muttered in frustration, turning to face him with irritation etched on her features.

Devashish wore a smug smile as he observed Ashvi, her heavy breaths and dilated eyes betraying her tumultuous emotions. "The vibe I'm getting from you right now only agrees with the last part of your sentence. But sorry, I don't do repeats, as I mentioned that day," he remarked coolly.

"Of course, you're the OG male slut," Ashvi gritted out, her voice dripping with anger.

Devashish smiled again, knowing full well she was seething with anger. It wasn't the first time a woman had been frustrated by his refusal to be tied down.

"Gosh, are you enjoying this? The thrill of revenge? No?" he taunted, his tone laced with amusement.

When she did nothing but glare at him—a trait she seemed to share with Aadarsh—he continued, unfazed. "Well, you won't, because I know who I am. I don't pretend to be something I'm not...unlike a wolf in sheep's clothing," he quipped, pointing at her accusingly. "You, on the other hand, excel at it. Especially if you've managed to evade suspicion from Aadarsh while living right under his nose. But then again, ever since his marriage, he hasn't quite been himself, has he?"

"What video were you talking of?"

"Oh, there comes the curiosity," he smiled, leaning back against the sill once again. "Eager to know which one of your exploits exposed you? what do you call them... Lovers?" He tossed her a mocking curious look.

She narrowed her eyes at him, folding her arms. "What was on the video?"

"Are you trying to figure out if I enjoyed watching it? Hmm, twisted, but I am more into live shows than..."

"Shut the fuck up and tell me what video were you talking of."

"The one where you were being the rookie dominatrix princess." He answered her question. "That guy in the video was a wuss. Can't believe you went from me to him. I can only imagine the disappointment. Or wait, did I come after? Then you got really lucky."

"Yuv," she muttered, her voice barely audible, "I can't believe he would..."

He blinked in surprise as he witnessed the shock registering on Ashvi's face, followed by a flicker of something unexpected—shame. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion; this wasn't the reaction he had anticipated. However he quickly discarded the fleeting curiosity.

"Yeah, that's what happens when you get into bed, I mean literally too, with wussies."

"He's the best guy friend, I have." She spoke, with tears in her eyes.

"Hmm, friends with benefits is the worst kind of sex, you're better off hooking up with the enemy instead. Take it as advice coming from a very experienced person." He then pushed himself forward, away from the window sill he was leaning on. "I think I am really done with my dose of the Scenes with Sehgals, so I will leave you to your...whatever this is." He spoke, pointing there her face, beginning to make a beeline for the door.

"I am not a slut." Ashvi spoke as he moved past her.

"Look, there's nothing wrong in liking sex and having freedom in choosing your kink and your partner or partners. Just don't lie about it to yourself and to people who...trust you. Grow up. There's a difference in being a grown up and actually growing up."

Ashvi sharply turned to look at him. "Yuv is my friend. He was just helping me to feel that I have control over my life. And you...you were the only other person I have been with. And that was clearly a mistake. I don't go spreading my legs for every man I meet, you were the only exception. And trust me when I say, there's nothing I regret more than doing that."

"If you think, that makes me feel good or special, it doesn't. Look, on that day, it was Holi and... I was having fun and drinks. My judgment was clouded. I mean look at you, you're the ocean of red flags for men like me. I don't even do girls... especially the ones like you. And being Aadarsh's sister obviously makes you off limits to me.

I didn't know that you were his sister. I so wish I did. And I don't fucking care, what you do with your life. Aadarsh does. The video came up on the dark net and since we regularly run a search for any potential risks we found your video."

"Does Bhaiya know?"

"I am not going to fuck his sister and go tell him about it, unless I want to be very-very dead. And trust me, I love my life with all the sluty-ness it has in it."

"About the video," Ashvi rolled her eyes, correcting him.

"No. He won't know it from me. I would save him that embarrassment. It's better you tell him. The least you can do."

"Yeah, so he can cancel my Paris plan."

"God," he exclaimed dramatically, casting his gaze upward at the ceiling, "thank you for not burdening me with ungrateful siblings. I owe you one, for making me an only child. I'll forgive one of your mistakes for that. Good talk, bye," he added, closing his nose sided conversation. He then cast her a last pitiful glance, before turning away.

As he made to leave, Ashvi's voice stopped him in his tracks. "You don't tell him about any of this, and I won't tell him about you," she called out, her words echoing in the room as Devashish hovered at the threshold, realizing just how wrong he had been to assume that Abhi was the only brainless brat in the family.

He glanced back at her, "Fair enough. Shut your annoying brother-at-number-two's mouth and you're sorted."

"And you're a real jerk!"

He wore a smug smile and bowed lightly before exiting the room.

"You slept with her!" Chubby's scream filled his ears as Devashish made his way up the fire-exit stairs hoping that the roof was accessible.

Devashish glanced at his watch, noticing the red dot indicating that the microphone had been activated. He recalled Ashvi's attempt to pry his hand away; she must have inadvertently pressed the button. "Shit! You heard all of that!" he exclaimed, realizing his conversation had been overheard.

"I did too," KK chimed in.

"Me three," Luci added.

"Dammit!"

"We regularly run a search for potential risks on the web? Seriously?" Chubby mocked. "That's the best explanation you could come up with?"

"That foolish girl bought it," Devashish replied, his frustration evident in his tone.

"The foolish girl... you made me search the entire web for, turns out to be Aadarsh's sister and also someone you slept with. Why did you make me search for her?" Chubby asked.

"Love at first sight, I assume," KK spoke up.

"Or in his case at first fuck." Luci jested with a chuckle.

"You know that you're in soup, right?" Chubby asked and then went on, "One, you slept with your Boss's sister. Two, she also had an embarrassing video posted online, which you found and hid from your Boss. Three, you openly called her a slut in front of her family. Aadarsh is going to kill you when we're done here, if not that other brother."

"My bet is on, broken face," Kk spoke.

"No way! Mine is in his nuts or his junior. He is going to be kneed at the manhood first and then fired." Luci spoke.

"He can't fire DV, he needs him." KK argued. "Black eyes and bleeding jaw at best. Bet on 1k,"

"Fine bet. He's getting fired this time." Luci challenged.

"Guys, shut up," Chubby interjected. "DV, do you actually like her?"

"Gosh, Chubby, why do you have to kill the fun?" Devashish replied in a dismissive tone. "Did you hear her? I wouldn't be surprised if her IQ is in the negatives. And she's a brat. You know I have a war with brats. She was just a mistake that I happened to enjoy while it lasted."

"Just a friendly reminder, if anyone messes with my sister, they're dead. First beaten, then tortured and then dead. No matter what when who etcetera." KK interjected.

"Dude, your sister is going to beat us up first if we as much as just look at her." Luci replied instantly.

"That reminds me," Devashish spoke up, "Please give me photographs of all the ladies in your family. I am done being caught off guard." He heard chuckles on the phone in response to his remark.

"You're a jerk, no doubt there." KK added distastefully.

"Says the man who just shot a lame man in his only good leg."

"Reminder, it was to save your slutty life."

"Yeah, whatever let's you justify your anger issues." Devashish muttered cutting off the communication.

***

Abhi restlessly tapped his shoes against the floor, the whirlwind of thoughts raging in his mind. Anger simmered within him, directed at his brother. He had always known that his brother didn't do clean business, but somewhere deep down, he had hoped he was wrong.

It pained him to see Ruhaani trying to hold herself together despite being shattered by Pari's injury and fight for life. Ruhaani didn't deserve this after all the storms she had survived.

Devashish's accusations ignited a fire within him, his blood boiling with anger.

His father's suffering weighed heavily on his heart. Every time he saw him being misunderstood his own heart twisted in pain. Ever since their mother's death, their father had been enduring a silent agony, robbed of the lifeline he had found in their mother.

It was a devastating blow, receiving grief when one had expected happiness—the cruelest kind of sorrow, inflicted after snatching away the hope of joy.

Both Aadarsh and Devashish seemed to use his father as a shield for their own bad decisions. Abhi couldn't understand the source of his brother's resentment towards their father. As a son, how could he not see the pain their father endured? With each passing day, their father was losing more pieces of himself, more pieces of the people he loved, every cherished memory gradually fading away.

He hated how Aadarsh conveniently dumped everything on their father and made him the villain of his life. Yes, his father had fallen weak and succumbed to alcoholic habits only a weak man would adopt to bear emotional pain. But at the end of the day, he was just a man deeply hurt by the sorrow of the loss of losing the only person who gave him a reason to live. The loss that made him spiral down the wrong path.

He needed compassion and love, not blame, not hatred. He was just a man shattered into pieces. He needed someone to understand him and fix him. Why was it so hard for Aadarsh to under that?

"Abhi,"

"Bhabhs," he acknowledged Ruhaani's presence, looking at her as she sat beside him.

"Did the doctor give any update?" she asked softly.

"No," he answered, gazing at her face. She looked exhausted and troubled. "You okay?"

She nodded vaguely. A silence followed.

"How is Bhai?"

"He's fine." Ruhaani answered, looking straight ahead at the doors of the operation theatre.

After a long pause Ruhaani spoke up, "You should have signed that form for him, instead of what you did. I understand you're hurt and angry. I am not going to invalidate what you feel. But if Aadarsh was in your place, he wouldn't have just signed, he would have ran to the room to make sure his brother was okay."

Abhi kept quiet. Yes, his brother would do that, no doubt. He regretted hurling his anger out like that at the moment when he had to be the responsible one. He was better than that. "I am sorry. I was angry. But that doesn't mean..."

"Not the time for it. I would rather sit quietly and pray than listen to any complaints."

"I will leave you that." Abhi spoke a bit disappointed. He knew the time was not right. But again, when did anyone ever understand his point of view on things, his hurt or his need for talking out pain.

Ruhaani stared at the retreating figure of the man. She let out a deep audible sigh, pressing her palm to her forehead, her gaze darting back to the doors Pari was behind.

"Please let her be okay," she prayed, joining her hands in her lap.

***

"Where's Ruhaani?" Devashish inquired, scanning the room where Aadarsh lay resting.

"I asked her to wait outside, just in case the doctors need any information or have updates for us," Aadarsh replied, his gaze fixed on his bruised palm, his thoughts consumed by worry for Pari. He longed to be with Ruhaani, but he knew Ruhaani's presence outside was crucial for Pari's care. His eyes drifted to the hand where the cannula delivered fluids into his body, a constant reminder of his helplessness.

Looking up, he noticed Devashish approaching quietly, a blue file in hand. "Do you have any updates?" Aadarsh enquired thoughtfully.

"No, not really," Devashish muttered, casting a quick glance at his watch to ensure their conversation wouldn't be overheard this time.

"However, I did want to ask you something,"

Aadarsh nodded, his attention fully focused on Devashish.

"How much do you know about Pari's medical history?" Devashish inquired.

Aadarsh immediately straightened up, a twinge of pain shooting through him at the point of his stitches. "Why? Is everything okay?" he asked, concern lacing his words.

"Yeah, everything is fine. I just wanted to..." Devashish began.

"She's up to date on all her vaccines until age four. She hasn't had any previous illnesses. You have her records; they're in that cloud folder. Why are you asking?" Aadarsh interjected, his voice edged with urgency. All he wanted was for Pari to be okay.

"Anything else, that Ruhaani might have told you?" Devashish asked curiously.

"Nothing I can remember right now. You're worrying me, why?"

"Anything about Pari's birth?"

"No, nothing. What's the problem?" Aadarsh spoke sharply.

Devashish looked to the side, his expression contemplative as though he were piecing together a puzzle in his mind. After a moment, he turned his gaze back to Aadarsh, approaching him slowly.

He began to narrate how the doctor had mentioned over an hour ago about Pari's bleeding and the anticipated need for more blood. Devashish then explained how he, Ruhaani, Abhi, and Ashvi had all provided samples for collection.

"You can take my blood if none of theirs is a match," Aadarsh offered without hesitation.

"It's not about that," Devashish replied solemnly. "Ruhaani and Pari's blood types don't match. Ruhaani is O positive, and Pari is AB negative. Apparently, that's an impossible pair for a mother-daughter duo."

Aadarsh let out a sigh of relief. "The test must have failed, or the blood samples must have gotten mixed up or something," he reasoned.

"I thought so too. In fact, I mentioned the same thing to the lab scientist," Devashish continued, his expression grave. "She ran the tests right in front of my eyes. And I was present in the room when the nurse was drawing the blood. She confirmed our names before labelling the tubes."

Aadarsh's expression mirrored his concern. "Something must have gone wrong," he muttered, his tone heavy with an unacceptable horror.

"Yeah, like a ghost is messing with us and going around exchanging labels on blood sample tubes," Devashish quipped sarcastically.

A heavy silence descended upon the room, the weight of uncertainty hanging in the air.

"There must have been a mess-up. There's no other explanation," Aadarsh asserted firmly, his disbelief evident. The idea that Pari might not be biologically related to Ruhaani was almost inconceivable to him.

"I thought you'd deny it, so I asked the lab technician to run a DNA test on the samples," Devashish explained, holding out his smartphone to display a document. "They don't match."

"That's impossible. Ruhaani would have told me," Aadarsh protested, his mind struggling to accept the revelation.

"Yeah, well, maybe you should ask her," Devashish suggested bluntly, his tone tinged with a hint of skepticism.

"I am not going to do that," Aadarsh lashed out, his frustration palpable. "You know what, you're just out of your mind. I'm sorry, but you don't understand relationships because of your past. But I do, and there's no way that Ruhaani would lie to me about—"

"You love Ruhaani, and hence trust her blindly. Just like you trusted your parents, your brother, your sister. You're making a mistake again. Love makes people blind, and you're turning out to be a clear example," Devashish interrupted, his words cutting through Aadarsh's protestations.

Aadarsh glared at him, his anger simmering beneath the surface.

"This... the blood type analysis has been done five times, each with the same result. And this," he continued, gently shaking the phone in his hand, "is the DNA test, repeated thrice. You can choose to be blind to these facts, or you can confront your wife, whom you trust so much, and find out what's really going on. She's ben lying to you."

"Why would she!?" Aadarsh blurted angrily, his disbelief evident.

"Well, you should ask her that. I mean, why would someone hide an adoption? Unless they wanted to pass off as an actual biological parent for some motive... maybe like marrying a man whose criteria for a wife was a woman who is motherly. I had warned you after the background check that her family was a gold digger, and maybe she is..."

"Enough. Not a word more," Aadarsh warned, his voice laced with finality, silencing the man before him.

Devashish scoffed, unfazed by Aadarsh's warning, "Will she defend you like this when someone speaks ill of you? I really hope so, otherwise, it would just mean you're in an illusionary relationship... a one sided relationship of love."

After a brief pause, Devashish placed the file at the edge of the bed. "I've sent the document of the DNA test to your phone. The test was done off the hospital records, so you don't have to worry about this getting out. I'm sorry you had to learn about this like this," he added quietly.

With that, Devashish left the room, leaving Aadarsh to grapple with the knowledge that had shattered the ground beneath his feet.

• — • — •

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—Anami!♡