Some wounds don’t bleed, they just ache… silently, endlessly.

Nandini’s POV,

The temple was quiet, the air thick with the faint scent of incense and flowers. It felt strangely serene as if the world outside didn’t exist. Yet, my heart was anything but calm. With every minute that passed, I could feel the weight of what was to come—a marriage, a life I hadn’t chosen. I had no idea how long I could keep pretending, how long I could keep up the act.

“Don’t worry, Nandu,” Bhai’s comforting voice broke through my thoughts. I turned to see him standing beside me, offering a smile that was supposed to ease my tension. “I’ve made sure the media won’t get through. You’re safe here.”

I nodded quietly, appreciating his words but feeling an empty ache in my chest. Sure, I was physically safe, but my mind? My heart? They were far from it.

I closed my eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, trying to find some peace in the stillness. I whispered a quick prayer to myself, not sure if I was praying for the marriage to end or to somehow make it all feel real.

“Would it really have been so hard?” Dad’s voice cut through my silence. He had been standing there, watching me as if I were some specimen on display. “If you hadn’t kept this condition about keeping your marriage a secret, maybe things would’ve been different.”

I let out a small sigh, turning to face him. “If you cared more about your reputation and less about people’s lives, maybe things would be different, Dad,” I snapped back. My patience had long worn thin, especially with him.

He raised an eyebrow, unfazed by my retort, but I could tell he was getting frustrated, too. We both knew this situation was spiraling out of control.

Before I could say anything else, Mom was by my side, gently placing a hand on my arm. “Nandini, please don’t get upset,” she said softly. “Today is supposed to be special for you. This is your day.”

I almost laughed, but it was bitter. “Special day?” I repeated her words, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “This isn’t special, Mom. It’s just another puja—a tradition. Don’t try to sell it as something it’s not.”

She didn’t respond to that, and I didn’t expect her to. The truth was, there was nothing special about today for me. It was just one more part of the life I was being forced to live.

And then they came—Manik and his family.

My heart did a strange flip in my chest as I watched them approach. Manik, was always the center of attention, his presence filling the space before he even spoke. He walked toward us, his family in tow, greeting Mom and Dad with the customary respect. His eyes met mine briefly as he passed by, and for a fleeting moment, I could feel the weight of his gaze.

He greeted everyone, and I stood there, frozen. I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Everything felt heavy, too real.

Manik approached Rudraksh Bhai and Prisha Bhabhi, exchanging pleasantries with them. I glanced around at everyone else, feeling like an outsider in my own life. The entire time, Manik didn’t break his gaze from me—not fully, but enough that I could feel his attention like a physical thing.

“Hi, Ansh,” Manik said as he bent down to greet Prisha’s son. The little boy shyly whispered a “Hi” in return, causing Manik to smile softly and then Neyonika Aunty stepped forward, her voice bright as she introduced Manik’s grandmother, Radhika Malhotra.

I felt my stomach tighten as she walked toward us. I had heard so much about her from Neyonika Aunty, but this would be the first time I was meeting her. I swallowed hard, trying to steady my nerves.

Aunty led the way, introducing me as if it were just another formal greeting. “Nandini, this is Manik’s Dadi.”

I bowed my head as I stepped forward to greet her, my hands trembling slightly. I touched her feet, just as the tradition required. I felt her cold gaze upon me as I did so, but it wasn’t anything like the warmth I had expected. Her blessing was brief, almost mechanical, as if she were just going through the motions. It stung more than I expected, and I couldn’t help but feel the weight of her indifference.

“Thank you, Dadi,” I whispered, trying to keep my voice steady, but my heart was pounding in my chest.

Neyonika Aunty gently pulled me to the side, and we stood there, waiting for the others to arrive. I felt the tension in the air as we all stood there—Malhotras and Murthys, on either side, not knowing what to say or how to act. I wasn’t sure what to do, what role to play in this charade.

It was then that Manik spoke again, his voice soft, but carrying a hint of concern. “Are you okay?” he asked, his gaze lingering on me for a second too long.

I nodded quickly, not trusting myself to speak. “I’m fine,” I lied, my voice betraying me. He didn’t seem convinced, but before he could say anything else, his friends arrived. The chatter in the air shifted, the energy in the temple lightning a bit as they came forward to greet us.

“Nandini,” Manik introduced them, his voice a little louder now, as if he was trying to pull me out of my thoughts. “This is Navya, Cabir Dhawan’s wife, and my dear sister.”

I felt my world tilt on its axis. My heart stopped. Everything froze.

There, standing before me, was the one person I thought I would never see again. The girl who had disappeared from my life years ago.

Navya.

I didn’t move. I didn’t speak. My mind went blank, and my body was paralyzed, unable to react. I could feel the blood draining from my face, my hands cold. I was rooted to the spot, my eyes locked on her, and I could only whisper one word—barely a whisper, so soft that I wasn’t sure anyone but me could hear it.

“Didu…”

The name escaped my lips before I could stop it. My body was frozen, my heart pounding, and I couldn’t look away from her. I couldn’t breathe.

Manik continued to speak but all I could hear was the pounding of my heart, the rushing sound of blood in my ears.

She was here.

Nandini’s POV ends.

Manik's POV,

I had just introduced Navya to Nandini, expecting maybe a polite hello, an awkward smile, or even a faint nod. But what I got instead was silence—an eerie, deafening silence.

Nandini stood frozen, her eyes wide, her lips slightly parted. She looked… lost, almost as if she had seen a ghost.

“Nandini?” I called softly, trying to break whatever trance she was in.

She didn’t respond. Her gaze remained locked on Navya, her expression void of everything except shock. My brows furrowed as I observed her. Something wasn’t right.

Before I could press further, movement caught my eye.

Swarna Aunty stepped forward, her eyes glistening with unshed tears as they focused on Navya.

“Navya…” she whispered, her voice breaking as she lunged forward and pulled Navya into a tight hug.

Navya stiffened, her hands frozen mid-air as Aunty sobbed against her shoulder. “My baby… my Navya… where have you been? How have you been? Do you know how much I’ve missed you?”

Her words tumbled out, one after another, desperate and raw, as if she’d been holding them in for years.

But Navya didn’t return the hug. She stood there, her arms limp, her face twisted in a storm of emotions I couldn’t even begin to decipher.

And then, with a sharp shove, Navya pushed her away.

“Stay away from me!” Navya’s voice cracked as she spoke, her eyes glistening with tears she was fighting to hold back.

Swarna Aunty stumbled slightly but didn’t step back. Instead, she reached out again, her voice trembling. “Navya… baby, please. I’m your mother…”

“NO!” Navya screamed, her voice echoing through the temple, startling everyone. “You are NOT my mother. You lost that right long ago.”

Aunty’s knees buckled, and she collapsed onto the temple floor, clutching her chest as silent sobs wracked her body.

Prisha Bhabhi was beside her in an instant, crouching down, holding her, whispering something soothing. But Aunty’s gaze was locked on Navya as if she was still trying to bridge the impossible chasm between them.

Cabir placed a protective hand on Navya’s shoulder, whispering something softly, but Navya shrugged his hand away.

I turned my gaze toward Rudraksh, who had taken slow, cautious steps toward Navya, his face pale, eyes wide with disbelief.

“Navya… is that really you?” he whispered, his voice so fragile it was barely audible.

Navya turned to face him, her lips trembling. “She’s dead, Mr. Rudraksh Murthy. That Navya… she died a long time ago.”

Her words hit him like a slap. Rudraksh froze, his arms falling limply to his sides, his gaze dropping to the ground.

The silence was unbearable. Everyone stood frozen, watching the scene unfold.

But my eyes… my eyes were on Nandini.

She hadn’t moved, not even a single inch. Her head bowed slightly, and I could see her shoulders trembling. Her hands were clasped tightly together, and she was staring at the floor, tears falling silently down her face.

Navya walked slowly toward Nandini, her expression softening, her tears still falling freely. And then, without a word, she wrapped Nandini in a tight hug.

Nandini broke down. Completely.

Her hands clutched Navya’s back as if she were holding onto her lifeline. Her voice trembled as she spoke, her words broken and childlike.

“D-Didu… I missed you so much. Why… why did you leave me? Where did you go? I was so alone, Didu… so alone…”

Navya held her tightly, her hand running through Nandini’s hair as if she were soothing a child.

“Shh… I’m here now, Nandu. I’m here, baby. I’m so sorry…” Navya whispered, her voice cracking with every word.

I could feel a lump forming in my throat as I watched them. This wasn’t just a reunion—it was a tidal wave of buried emotions, secrets, and untold stories crashing down on everyone present.

The priest’s voice suddenly cut through the fragile moment. “The auspicious time is running out. We must begin the puja now.”

Mom stepped forward, her voice firm yet gentle. “Let’s complete the rituals first. Everything else can wait.”

Navya slowly let go of Nandini, cupping her face and wiping her tears before giving her a small nod. Nandini wiped her face quickly, but her red eyes and trembling hands gave away her vulnerability.

We moved toward the temple’s main sanctum. Nandini and I sat side by side, our backs straight, facing the god as the priest began chanting.

Navya sat beside me, her head slightly bowed, and Cabir was right next to her, holding her hand. Across from us, Rudraksh sat silently, his gaze fixed on Navya, while Prisha Bhabhi tried to calm Swarna Aunty, who couldn’t stop staring at her daughter.

Manish Uncle… he was the only one who hadn’t said a word. He stood near one of the temple pillars, his eyes distant, his face pale. He looked like he had seen a ghost.

I glanced at Nandini from the corner of my eye. She was performing the rituals robotically, her face expressionless, her movements mechanical.

It was clear to me now—whatever had happened in the Murthy family, Navya was at the center of it.

And whatever it was… it was far from over.

The truth was out in fragments, but the picture was still incomplete.

One thing, however, was painfully clear.

Navya wasn’t just Cabir’s wife. She wasn’t just my sister.

She was Nandini’s family. The Murthys’ daughter.

And this secret… it had the power to shatter everything.

Manik’s POV ends.

Nandini's POV,

The final bell of the puja echoed softly through the temple, signaling its completion. The scent of incense lingered heavily in the air, blending with the fragrance of marigold flowers scattered across the sanctum floor. The priest offered his blessings, but my mind was miles away, tangled in a mess of unanswered questions and raw emotions.

I watched Manik approach Didu with slow, deliberate steps. “Navya,” he said gently, his voice low, “What’s all this? What is happening here? Please, explain.”

She turned to face him, her teary eyes locking onto his. For a moment, I thought she might snap at him or push him away like she did with Mom earlier. But instead, she broke.

She fell into his arms, clutching the fabric of his kurta tightly, her sobs muffled against his chest.

“Manik bhai…” she whispered brokenly, her voice trembling, “I don’t want to talk to anyone… except Nandini. They are no one to me… no one.”

Manik held her firmly, his hand cradling the back of her head as he whispered something I couldn’t hear. His sharp gaze flitted briefly to Bhai, who stood nearby with his fists clenched at his sides, his hurt and anguish written all over his face.

The way he looked at Navya when she called Manik ‘bhai’—it felt like a knife twisting in an open wound.

I couldn’t take it anymore.

Taking hesitant steps forward, I approached Didu, reaching out and gently pulling her away from Manik’s embrace. She turned to look at me, her face stained with tears, her eyes filled with a vulnerability I hadn’t seen in years.

“Didu…” My voice cracked as I spoke, my hand still clutching her arm. “Where were you all these years? Why didn’t you come back? Why didn’t you… contact us?”

Her lips trembled as fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. She cupped my face with shaking hands, her thumbs brushing away my tears.

“Nandu…” she whispered brokenly.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, my vision blurring as the tears refused to stop. “Didu, please… tell me. I need to know. I deserve to know.”

She took a deep breath, her shoulders trembling as she prepared herself to speak.

“It started when I was in my first year of college, Nandu,” she began, her voice soft but clear. You were in class 10, and he”—she glanced briefly at Bhai—“was in his final year.

I nodded slightly, encouraging her to continue.

“I met Cabir there. We had one subject in common despite being in different courses. At first, it was just friendship—a bond that grew so naturally, so effortlessly. But then… it turned into something more. I don’t even know when it happened, but I fell in love with him, Nandu. Deeply, irrevocably.”

She paused, her gaze flickering briefly toward Cabir, who stood silently to the side, his eyes filled with both love and pain.

“I was sure about him, about us. So, I decided I would tell our parents. But before I could, they saw us… in a restaurant. Mr. Manish Murthy—the ever-proud businessman, the man who valued reputation over his daughter’s happiness was furious and asked me to break all ties with Cabir, to forget about him as if he were some mistakes I had made. I tried… God knows I tried to make them understand, but he wouldn’t listen. For the first time in my life, he raised his hand on me. He slapped me. Me… his own daughter.”

A collective gasp ran through the air, but no one dared interrupt her.

“He locked me in my room for days. I couldn’t go to college, couldn’t contact anyone. My phone was confiscated. I was utterly alone. You were too young to help, and… and the others…” Her voice broke again. “No one stepped up for me. Not even him”—she pointed towards Bhai, whose head dropped in shame.

Tears were streaming down my face by now, but I didn’t wipe them away.

“Finally, one day, he opened my door and told me I could go back to college—but not here. He wanted me out of the country. Out of sight, out of mind. I pleaded with him, but he didn’t budge. That night, I ran away. I went to Cabir. But do you know what Cabir said to me? He scolded me, Nandini. He asked me to go back. He said he’d come home and talk to my parents himself.”

She let out a humorless laugh, her voice trembling. “I returned home… and what I saw…” Her voice trembled as she looked directly into my eyes, her gaze hollow. “They were performing my last rites, Nandini. My own parents were performing rituals for a daughter they had decided was dead to them. I was alive, but they had already buried me in their hearts.”

The temple was silent except for the sound of soft sobbing. Mom was crying into Bhabhi’s shoulder, Bhai’s face was pale, and Dad was frozen, his expression blank, his eyes fixed on the ground. I took a deep breath still remembering that day when Mom and Dad were doing all those things.

Didu continued her voice now barely above a whisper. “I couldn’t stay there. I couldn’t face them. I went back to Cabir, and we left. We went to Bangalore. I stayed there, continued my studies, and tried to rebuild the shattered pieces of my life. But Before leaving for Bangalore I met his friends—Mukti, Alya, Dhruv, and Manik bhai. They became my family when I had none.”

I couldn’t hold back anymore. I pulled her into a tight hug, my tears soaking her shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, Didu… I tried… I tried to stop them, but I couldn’t… I couldn’t…”

She pulled back and cupped my face again. “No, Nandu. Don’t you ever blame yourself. You were just a child. None of this was your fault. None of it.”

Nandini said wiping her tears, “now everything is fine, you are not going anywhere, you will come home with me.”

Manish’s voice cut through the air. “Nandini, let her be. Don’t force her into anything.”

Rudraksh snapped, his voice loud and sharp. “Dad! Are you even listening to yourself? How can you still be so… heartless after everything? After all this time?”

Navya chuckled bitterly, wiping her tears. “Save your anger, Mr. Rudraksh Murthy. I don’t need your defense. I’m not weak. I’m not broken in fact it doesn’t matter anymore. I’m strong enough to fight my own battles now.”

She turned to Cabir, her expression softening. “Cabir, can we… can we please leave? I need some time. Just… some time.”

I clutched her hand tightly. “Didu… please. Don’t go.”

She squeezed my hand gently. “I’m not leaving forever, Nandu. I just need some time. We’ll meet again, soon. I promise.”

I nodded hesitantly, letting her hand slip away.

As Navya and Cabir walked away, Bhai turned his back to Manish, disgust etched across his face.

Manik’s hand came to rest lightly on my shoulder. I looked up at him through teary eyes, and he gave me a small nod.

We turned and walked away from the temple, the weight of unsaid words and unhealed wounds pressing heavily on all of us.

But one thing was clear in my mind.

This wasn’t over. Not yet.

The drive back to Murthy Mansion was silent, suffocatingly so. The air in the car felt heavy, laden with tension and unsaid words. My fingers trembled slightly as they rested on my lap, but I clasped them tightly together to stop the shaking. No one spoke—not Mom, not Bhai, and certainly not Dad.

As soon as we entered the house, Dad headed straight for his room. His shoulders were stiff, his strides determined, as though he wanted to escape from all of us. Something inside me snapped.

“Dad!” I called after him, my voice louder than I intended. He stopped mid-step but didn’t turn around.

“Don’t you dare walk away from this!” I shouted, my anger boiling over. “What was that back there? How could you be so selfish?”

He turned slowly, his face impassive but his eyes sharp. “Nandini, this is not the time—”

“No!” I cut him off, taking a step forward. “This is the perfect time! How could you be so… so heartless? How could you let your own daughter—your flesh and blood—feel so unwanted, so unloved? How could you stand there and not say a single word when she was pouring her heart out?”

Manish’s jaw clenched, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “She betrayed this family, Nandini. It was a shame. She disgraced us—”

“Shame?!” I screamed, my voice cracking. “You call loving someone shameful? Do you call wanting happiness shameful? No, Dad, the only shame here is you. The only disgrace is how you abandoned your own child because she dared to choose love over your control!”

“Nandini!” he barked, his voice thunderous.

But I wasn’t done. “Don’t shout at me!” I snapped. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? What you’ve lost? You forced her out of this house, out of our lives, and for what? To save your so-called reputation? Look around, Dad! Your precious reputation has cost you your family. Congratulations!”

Bhai stepped in, his voice calm but laced with fury. “She’s right, Dad. You were wrong. You are wrong. And the fact that you still refuse to admit it…” He shook his head in disbelief. “It’s pathetic.”

Dad’s face darkened. “Watch your tone, Rudraksh.”

“Or what?” Bhai countered, his tone sharp. “You’ll disown me too? Perform my last rites like you did Navya’s? Go ahead, Dad. At least then I’ll know where I stand with you.”

Dad took a threatening step forward, but Mom placed a hand on his arm, trying to calm him. “Please, Manish, not now,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Mom stepped forward hesitantly. "Nandini, please… don’t speak to your father like this." I turned to her sharply, my voice trembling with fury. "Mom, you are just as responsible as he is. You stood there and let it all happen. You watched your daughter walk away, and you did nothing! You stayed silent then, and you’re staying silent now."

Her face crumbled, but I wasn’t done.

"Do you know what your silence cost us, Mom? Do you know how many years Navya spent suffering, thinking her family didn’t care about her? And even today, when she stood right in front of you, broken and vulnerable, you still couldn’t fight for her."

"Nandini!" Dad’s voice boomed through the hallway, making me flinch. "Enough of your drama. Everything I did was for this family. For our reputation. Do you understand? We are the Murthys! People look up to us. I couldn’t let her reckless behavior tarnish everything I built."

I let out a hollow laugh, my hands trembling at my sides. "Reputation? That’s all that matters to you, isn’t it? Not your children, not our happiness—just your precious reputation. You talk about family pride, but do you even know what it means to be a father? To be a husband?"

His face darkened, and I could see the storm building in his eyes. Mom’s eyes filled with tears, but I didn’t care. “You had the chance to stand up for us Mom, to protect us. But no. You chose him. Every single time, you chose him. And look where it’s gotten us. Your children are broken, Mom. Broken because of you.”

“Nandini, that’s enough,” Dad growled, his voice low and menacing.

“No, Dad, it’s not enough. It will never be enough,” I spat, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “One day, you’re going to regret this. Mark my words. One day, you’ll look back and realize that you destroyed your own family. And by then, it’ll be too late.”

I didn’t wait for a response. I turned on my heel and stormed up the stairs, my heart pounding in my chest.

The moment I entered my room, I slammed the door shut and locked it. My back hit the door as I slid down to the floor, my legs giving out beneath me.

I couldn’t breathe.

My chest heaved as I tried to suck in the air, but it felt like there wasn’t enough oxygen in the room. My hands clutched at my chest, desperate to calm the frantic beating of my heart.

“Breathe, Nandini,” I whispered to myself. “Just breathe.”

But it wasn’t working. My breaths came in short, ragged gasps. My vision blurred, and my head started to spin.

I stumbled to my feet, pacing the room in a desperate attempt to calm myself. My hands shook uncontrollably, and tears streamed down my face.

This wasn’t the first time I’d felt like this. Panic attacks had become an unwelcome companion in my life, but this one felt different. It felt worse.

I pressed my palms against the cool surface of my desk, trying to ground myself. “Calm down,” I whispered, over and over. “Calm down.”

And then my phone buzzed.

I fumbled to pull it out of my pocket, my hands trembling so much that I almost dropped it. The screen lit up with a name I wasn’t expecting.

Manik.

For a moment, I just stared at it, my mind too clouded to process what to do. I was going to cut the call—I didn’t want anyone to hear me like this—but my finger slipped, and the call connected.

“Hello? Nandini?” Manik’s voice came through the phone.

I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out. My throat felt tight and constricted.

“Nandini? Are you there?” His voice grew more urgent. “Hello? Nandini, say something!”

I clutched the phone tightly, my breathing still erratic. I wanted to speak, to tell him I was fine, but I couldn’t. The words were trapped, stuck behind the wall of panic that refused to let me go.

“Nandini, are you okay? Please, say something. Anything.”

His voice was laced with worry now, and I could imagine the look on his face—those dark, intense eyes scanning for any sign of trouble.

But I couldn’t respond. I sank back onto the floor, the phone still pressed to my ear, as silent tears streamed down my face. I felt completely and utterly helpless.

Nandini’s POV ends.

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