The hotel corridors echoed with tension as Shubman's restless sleep continued. Virat, concerned, entered Ishan's room and found him engaged in conversation. His gaze shifted to Shubman, who lay on the bed, his face etched with irritation.

Ishan explained, "He came here last night, a storm of emotions brewing within him."

Virat nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. He then made his way to Avneet's room, where she spoke animatedly with Jaijeet. The Punjabi flowed freely: "Tusīṁ jāṇadē hō usa nē kihā sī ki siḍa mērē nāla janūna hai. Siḍa mērā sabha tōṁ cagā dōsata hai atē maiṁ jāṇadā hāṁ ki uha mērē nāla janūna nahīṁ hai." (Translation: You know he said that Sid is obsessed with me. Sid is my best friend, and I know he is not obsessed with me.)

Avneet continued, "Bhā'ī usadā sātha dēṇā bada karō. Tusīṁ jāṇadē hō ki maiṁ Shub nālōṁ Sid 'tē zi'ādā bharōsā karadā hāṁ. Maiṁ Shub nū sirapha 4 mahīni'āṁ tōṁ jāṇadā hāṁ atē maiṁ Sid nū 10 sālāṁ tōṁ jāṇadā hāṁ." (Translation: Stop supporting him, bhai. You know I trust Sid more than Shub. I've known Shub for only 4 months, but I've known Sid for 10 years.)

And then, with unwavering conviction, she declared, "Hāṁ bhā'ī. Mainū Sid vadha bharōsā hai ki Shub." (Translation: Yes, bhai. I trust Sid more than Shub.)

Her voice rang out, echoing through the room: "YES, I TRUST SID MORE THAN SHUB."

Virat sighed, unaware that another listener had overheard every word. Shubman stood frozen in the doorway, his mind replaying her declaration: I TRUST SID MORE THAN SHUB.

Virat attempted to speak, but Shubman entered the room, and Avneet jumped slightly, disconnecting her call. Concern etched her features as she asked, "Shub, where were you?"

His response was curt: "I was in hell." Avneet pressed further, "What happened? Why are you behaving like this?"

Shubman's frustration spilled over. "Always everything happens to me," he lamented. "Everything bad, ever since I became famous."

He grabbed his cricket kit and towel, heading outside. Avneet sighed, receiving a call. She answered, "Hello?"

The voice on the other end relayed information, and Avneet dashed to the reception area. Shubman watched from afar as she hugged Siddharth, who surreptitiously snapped selfies. Battling his own emotions, Shubman focused on batting practice. He confided in Ishan, "I'll be near the bench."

As the sun blazed overhead, Shubman stood on the terrace, lost in memories. Laughter and footsteps interrupted his reverie, and he wiped away a tear. Avneet and Siddharth approached, and she released Siddharth to embrace Shubman. But his mind echoed her words: I TRUST SID MORE THAN SHUB.

He pushed her away, leaving without explanation. Avneet's sadness lingered, while Siddharth inquired, "Everything okay between you and Shubman?"

Avneet feigned a smile. "Yeah, he's just upset about a small thing." Siddharth's thoughts raced:"Oh, meri jaan, if only you knew it's not small—it's a colossal matter. You've always belonged to me and still do."

As they discussed her marriage, Avneet momentarily forgot the disappointment etched on Shubman's face.

The cricket pitch lay deserted, the sun casting long shadows across the grass. Shubman sat there, lost in a tempest of emotions. MS Dhoni's visit had stirred something within him, and Virat sensed his chotte's turmoil.

Approaching the pitch, Virat found Shubman in a solitary seat. He touched Shubman's shoulder, and the younger player turned, eyes filled with distress. "Everything okay?" Virat asked, concern etching his features.

Shubman's hug was desperate, as if seeking solace. "No bhai," he whispered. "Nothing is okay."

Virat held him, urging him to share. "Come on, tell me what happened."

Shubman's voice cracked. "Bhai, Avneet has this friend, Siddharth. I don't mind her having male friends, but Siddharth is obsessed with her. I tried telling her, but she didn't believe me. And today, she said she trusts Siddharth more than me."

Virat sighed, understanding the weight of Shubman's words. "I know what you're going through," he said. "These early years of marriage can be tough."

Shubman's eyes bore into Virat's. "Has Anushka bhabhi ever told you she trusts her best friend more than you?"

Virat shook his head. "But Avneet did?"

Shubman's frustration spilled over. "She doesn't know my past, bhai. If she did, would she still say that?" Saying so he left.

MS Dhoni approached Virat. "Cheeku, support him. You know what he's been through."

Virat nodded. "I want their relationship to be strong. Avneet tends to blurt things out. She said she regretted marrying Shubman once, and now this trust issue."

MSD's gaze was knowing. "Maybe he had a bad past relationship."

Virat agreed. "I'll talk to him."

Later, Virat found Avneet. "Av, What happened?" he asked.

She hesitated. "Nothing, bhai."

"Shub has become silent," Virat observed. "And you seem distant."

Avneet brushed it off. "Just a small fight. I'll convince him."

Shubman entered their room, grabbing his airpods. Avneet pleaded, "So you won't talk to me?"

He ignored her, heading for the door. "Don't you love me?" she pressed.

Shubman halted. "Are you out of your mind?"

"Did you stop loving me?" Avneet insisted.

"Why are you asking?" Shubman's voice cracked. "I love you more than my life."

"Then why won't you talk to me?" Avneet's eyes searched his.

"Because you don't respect my words," Shubman retorted.

"What do you mean?" Avneet's frustration flared.

"You told Jaijeet you trust Siddharth more than me," Shubman said bitterly. "You reminded me of something I never want to remember. I've worked hard to move past that dark phase, and I won't go back."

With that, he left, leaving Avneet stunned and hearts shattered.

Avneet went to Ishan's room and knocked it and he said, "Come in." Avneet scanned the room and did not see Shubman and Avneet asked, "Ishu, malā bhēṭaṇyāpūrvī Shubman acē kāya jhālē?" (Translation: Ishu, what happened to Shubman before meeting me?)

Ishan said, "Mī ēvaḍhēca mhaṇū śakatō kī tyācyāśī vā'īṭa relationship hōtē. Tumhī prayatna karā āṇi tyālā vicārā tō kadācita tumhālā sāṅgēla paṇa tyā'ādhī Shubhmancyā Siddharth baddalacyā śabdān̄cā vicāra karā." (Translation: All I can say he had a bad relationship. You try and asking him he might tell you but before that think about Shubman's words about Siddharth.)

Avneet said, "Ishu, plīja tō viṣaya nakō. Shubman alā yābaddala samajāvūna sāṅgatānā mī khūpa thakalō āhē āṇi tyābaddala suruvāta karata nāhī." (Translation: Ishu, please not that topic. I am so tired in explaining Shubman about it and don't start about it.)

Ishan nodded and Avneet went out and saw Shubman standing near the pitch closing his eyes and Avneet went and hugged him behind but Shubman left her and went away. Avneet's eyes filled with tears and then she slid down the door and she started crying.

She could hear a faint sound of the most emotional song which always brought tears in her eyes

bohot aayee-gayee yaaden, magar is baar tum hi aana
iraade phir se jaane ke nahin laana, tum hi aana 

meri dahaleez se hokar bahaaren jab guzaratee hain
yahaan kya dhoop, kya saavan, havaen bhi barasati hain 

hamen poochho kya hota hai bina dil ke jie jaana
bohot aayee-gayee yaaden, magar is baar tum hi aana

(Many memories have come, but this time only you come.
Don't intend to go again, just come.

When the spring passes through my threshold
Here there is sunshine, monsoon, winds also rain

Ask us, "What does it mean to live without a heart?"
Many memories have come, but this time only you come.)

Avneet stood before Ishan's room, her heart racing. She knocked gently, and Ishan's voice called out, "Come in." The door creaked open, revealing a room bathed in soft afternoon light. But Shubman was nowhere to be seen.

"Ishu," Avneet began, her voice trembling, "malā bhēṭaṇyāpūrvī Shubman acē kāya jhālē?" (Translation: Ishu, what happened to Shubman before meeting me?)

Ishan's eyes held a hint of sadness. "Mī ēvaḍhēca mhaṇū śakatō kī tyācyāśī vā'īṭa relationship hōtē," he replied. "All I can say is that he had a bad relationship. You try asking him; perhaps he'll share, but consider Shubman's cryptic words about Siddharth."

Avneet's heart sank. "Ishu, please tō viṣaya nakō," she pleaded. "Please, not that topic. I've exhausted myself explaining things to Shubman, and I can't bear to revisit it."

Ishan nodded in understanding, and Avneet stepped out into the corridor. Her eyes scanned the surroundings, seeking solace. There, near the cricket pitch, stood Shubman, his face turned toward the sky. His eyes were closed, as if lost in a world of his own.

Avneet approached him silently, wrapping her arms around his waist. But Shubman stiffened, pulling away. Hurt flashed across Avneet's eyes, and she sank to the floor, leaning against the door. Tears welled up, blurring her vision.

In the distance, a haunting melody played—the same song that had always stirred her emotions. Its notes seemed to echo her pain, resonating with the ache in her heart.

"Why has our relationship turned this bad?" Avneet wondered, her tears falling freely. "Why won't he talk to me anymore?" She silently implored the universe, "Please, bhagavaan, mend our bond. That's all I ask."

Athiya sensed Avneet's distress. She found her friend huddled against the door, shoulders shaking with sobs. Athiya gently touched Avneet's shoulder, and their eyes met—an unspoken understanding passing between them.

Avneet clung to Athiya, her tears soaking Athiya's shirt. "Hey!" Athiya whispered, concern etching her features. "What happened? Are you alright?"

Avneet couldn't find words, but Athiya's presence was enough. She led Avneet to her own room, where they sat together. Athiya stayed by her side, offering silent comfort as the tears continued to flow.

Meanwhile, Shubman battled his own emotions. He wiped away tears, his heart heavy. When he saw concern in Virat's eyes—the same eyes that had seen him through countless matches—he couldn't hold back any longer.

"Cheeku bhai," Shubman choked out, rushing toward Virat. He buried his face in Virat's chest, and the dam burst. Tears flowed freely, and Virat's strong arms enveloped him. The weight of unspoken pain hung heavy in the room.

Virat guided Shubman to his own room, where they sat side by side. Shubman needed his Cheeku bhai's presence—the silent reassurance that even in heartache, he wasn't alone.

And so, within the walls of that cricket-filled hotel, emotions swirled—a tangled web of love, hurt, and longing. Each heart carried its burden, seeking solace in the bonds that held them together.