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चल दिया
दिल तेरे पीछे पीछे
देखता मैं रह गया

कुछ तो है तेरे मेरे बीच
जो अनकहा सा रह गया
मैं जो कभी कह न सका
आज कहता हूँ पहली दफा

दिल में हो तुम
आँखों में तुम
पहली नज़र से ही यारा
यारा"
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The house was silent now, Noor stood in the middle of the living room, her hand still wrapped in a makeshift cloth to stop the bleeding. The family rushed Aakriti to the hospital in a flurry of worry and panic.

Noor didn't blame them-not even for a second. Aakriti was pregnant. Her condition was delicate, and everyone loved her so much. It was only right they all went with her. Siddharth had been the first to act, his voice sharp and commanding, lifting Aakriti as if she weighed nothing. Noor had never seen him so quick to move, so focused.

His mother had followed, fretting and giving orders. Even the house help had rushed to grab keys and shawls.

And Noor? Noor had stayed back, unnoticed.

She glanced down at her hand, the blood starting to seep through the cloth again. She winced but didn't unwrap it. What was the point? It wasn't serious anyway, not compared to Aakriti's fall. She understood that. She really did. But understanding didn't stop the ache in her chest.

Her eyes fell on the cartoon Akriti had left behind earlier. A brightly colored box, cheerful and light, promising laughter and joy. Noor's lips twisted into a small, bitter smile. Laughter and joy? Not for her. Not tonight.

She felt lonelier than ever, standing in the same house that was supposed to be her home.

She tried to shake the feeling off, telling herself it was selfish to feel hurt. Akriti needed them. She deserved their attention. Noor could hear her own voice in her head if she dared to complain:

"You're being dramatic. It's nothing. Prepare for what you gonna tell if they'll blame you for this accident " She swallowed hard, pushing the imaginary scolding away.

But the ache remained. Not just from tonight-no, it was older, deeper.

It was more like fear.

She remembered the men from her village. They used to blame women for every single thing. If the weather turned bad, if the crops didn't grow, if a dish didn't taste right-someone had to carry the burden.

And this type of mistake could lead them to get a good beating session.

But here, no one had blamed her, not directly. But no one had noticed her either.

Her hand throbbed, her heart heavier. She bit her lip, telling herself again that it was fine, that she didn't need anyone to notice her. She had always carried her own burdens. She didn't need anyone now.

And about Aakriti, she didn't know. Even the fall wasn't her fault. They were in the garden that too because she insists. It wasn't her fault.

But a part of her, small and buried deep, wished Sidharth had looked at her. Just once. Even as he carried Aakriti, even as his mind raced to protect his sister, Noor wished he had glanced her way-had seen her.

That thought hurt more than she was ready to admit

Why?!!

She even heard her mother-in-law's voice, frantic, when she had noticed Noor's injury.

"Noor! You have hurt yourself?"

The concern was there, genuine and real. But the most painful part wasn't that her mother-in-law had noticed-it was that Sidharth didn't. Not even a glance. He had been too focused on Aakriti, too lost in the crisis to even spare her a second look. And that hurt her more than anything else.

Her mind spiraled back to her father. He would've been the first to notice her injury, the first to wrap a bandage around her hand, scolding her gently for not being careful. She could see his face so clearly in her mind, hear his voice.

Her throat tightened as her brother's face flashed next. He would've fussed, too, in his own quiet way, never letting her feel alone.

But tonight, there was no one-not even Sidharth. She was his wife now.

He didn't care about her.

Wasn't he supposed to notice? To care? She barely understood him, this man she had married just four days ago. He was a mystery, distant, and unreadable. And now, she was starting to wonder if she'd ever be his priority.

Noor shook her head, trying to dispel the flood of emotions. It's selfish to think this way. She scolded herself. Aakriti needed him more. Of course, she did.

Noor wasn't the kind of person to demand attention, especially not at a time like this. She wasn't.

Tightening the cloth around her hand, she turned and made her way to her room. The emptiness of the house pressed down on her, a silence so loud it made her chest ache. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she began unwrapping the makeshift bandage, her thoughts still a tangled mess.

As she cleaned her wound, she fought back the tears threatening to spill. She thought of her father again, the way he always made her feel safe. And her brother-always ready to protect her, no matter what.

Her chest ached with the weight of it all. She shook her head again, forcing herself to be strong. She is strong she reminded herself.

Although the small voice in her head craved for one glance at her way, something that will say he does care.

That too when she thought they made a little development, that they moved ahead.

But a part of her, small and buried deep, wished Sidharth had looked at her. The small glace would have removed all her insecurity. Just once. Even as he carried Aakriti, even as his mind raced to protect his sister, Noor wished he had glanced her way-had seen her.

Wrapping her hand with a fresh bandage, Noor sat on the bed. The loneliness crept in again, heavier now. For the first time in her life, she felt completely untethered, as though there was no one to catch her if she fell.

Not her father, not her brother-and not Sidharth.

And yet, even through the hurt, she tried to understand. She always had. But tonight, understanding didn't make the loneliness any easier to bear.

She shook her head, hating herself for even thinking it. It was wrong.

Selfish.

She wasn't that kind of person. She'd never been. Aakriti needed him. Akriti deserved him.

Noor was loathing herself for feeling such. She wasn't a selfish woman but expecting a single glance from her husband when she was hurt. Was that too much?

She was tore between the feeling of bring selfish her fighting her insecurity. It made her hate herself. It made her more lonely.

Noor tightened the fist in her hand and stood straighter, her gaze fixed on the window where the moonlight spilled through. She'd get through this, like she always did.

Alone.

Her heart ached, but her mind fought it, this was her biggest insecurity, a life with loneliness. A life where she doesn't matter.

And the way Sidharth have behaved with her till now, all triggered her insecurity. But god!! She doesn't want to end up like her cousin.

She doesn't want a life like that.

"Don't be weak. Don't complain. You're stronger than this." But tonight, those words didn't feel strong.

They felt heavy.
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The house was silent, heavy with the kind of stillness that made Noor's thoughts louder. She sat at the edge of the bed, her hand resting limply on her lap, the makeshift bandage darkened by dried blood. She was waiting for them. Her heart was heavy with all negative thoughs. The car honk in the distance made her heart jolt.

They were back.

Her fingers twitched nervously, and a thought clawed at her mind-what if they blamed her? What if Siddharth blamed her for Aakriti's fall?

Noor froze, her breath catching in her throat. Midnight had come and gone, and yet the world outside seemed alive with life. But here, within these four walls, she felt small and unseen.

The idea made her chest tighten, but she quickly shook her head. No. They weren't like that. They were good people. Sidharth's family had never been unkind to her.

They wouldn't think that way. Yet, the worry lingered, whispering ugly reminders of the men from her village-those stern voices that had always blamed women, always pointed fingers. It was always someone's fault, and that someone was always a woman.

Noor squeezed her eyes shut and exhaled shakily, pushing those thoughts away. She needed to think positively. She had to. But her mind, restless and relentless, refused to stay quiet.

When she heard muffled voices and the soft thud of car doors closing, she stood instinctively. Her heart raced as she hovered near the door, unsure of what to do.

Should she go to them? Would they even notice her if she did?

Her hand hovered over the doorknob, trembling slightly. She wanted to know if Aakriti was okay, but the thought of stepping out of meeting their eyes filled her with hesitation.

The voices grew louder, familiar voices. His voice. She swallowed hard.

Sidharth ji

and then she saw him. Through the small crack of the door, Sidharth's tall figure came into view. He walked down the hallway with steady steps, his face calm but shadowed by that familiar frown.

Sidharth's frame filled the space, his shoulders slightly slouched, but He looked... tired, yet somehow calm. The urgency that had gripped him earlier seemed to have faded.

Noor's heart thudded painfully as she stepped back, hiding herself in the shadows. She pressed her back against the wall, holding her breath. She told herself it wasn't fear that rooted her there-it was something else. Something harder to name.

She held her breath, watching him pass without so much as a glance in her direction. Her chest ached, but she told herself it was better this way.

What would she even say to him? He hadn't looked at her when her mother-in-law had noticed her bleeding hand earlier, so why would he now?

The memory stung more than the wound itself. Her mother-in-law's worried voice had been loud, almost panicked, but Sidharth hadn't even glanced her way. That thought hurt more than she wanted to admit.

But then, guilt seeped in, thick and heavy. Wasn't she being selfish for feeling this way? Aakriti needed them more. She had every right to be their priority.

Noor clenched her injured hand unknowingly, the sharp sting grounding her for a moment.

Her eyes followed him as he walked past, his footsteps measured and steady. He didn't glance her way. He didn't pause. He didn't know she was there. That

Once Sidharth disappeared into the hallway, Noor let out a shaky breath once Sidharth disappeared down the hallway. Her shoulders sagged, the tension she hadn't realized she was holding, releasing all at once. the weight of her own thoughts pressing down on her.

And yet, she didn't move immediately. For a moment, she just stood there, letting the silence fill her ears. It was easier this way, she thought. It's easier to stay unseen.

She walked toward Aakriti's room, her steps slow and deliberate, as though each one was a battle in itself. Her eyes fell on her injured hand again. The blood had seeped through, staining the cloth a deeper red. She would have to change it, but not now. Not tonight. She pressed her hand lightly against her chest, the ache inside far greater than the one on her skin.

She thought again of Sidharth, of his calm yet distant face, and the way he had walked past her as though she didn't exist. She told herself it didn't matter, that she was fine on her own. She had always been fine on her own.

But tonight, the silence whispered otherwise.

Noor realized in a quiet, aching moment that she wasn't Sidharth's priority. It stung more than she expected, leaving her unsure where this marriage was going, even after she had fought for it. She swallowed hard, pushing back the lump in her throat, and decided to check on Aakriti.

Noor hesitated outside Akriti's room, clutching the edge of her saree pallu tightly. A thousand thoughts swirled in her mind. They were better than that. Still, her feet felt glued to the floor

The door was slightly ajar, and she could see Aakriti sitting up in bed with her mother-in-law by her side. Her heart raced as she debated whether to step in or retreat.

The warm scene made Noor's chest tighten with both longing and hesitation. She lingered by the door until Akriti noticed her.

Aakriti smiled "Bhabi? Kya kar rahi ho wahan? Andar aao na."

(Bhabhi? What are you doing there? Come inside.)

Noor stepped inside hesitantly, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I just wanted to see if you're okay. I'm... I'm sorry for what happened. I didn't know..."

Aakriti cut her off gently.

"Bas, bhabhi. Stop saying sorry," she said, her tone soft but firm.

"It wasn't your fault. I panicked and slipped. You were just trying to help."

Noor's eyes welled up, and she looked down, still wringing the saree pallu in her hands. Her mother-in-law spoke next, her voice carrying a warmth Noor hadn't expected.

"Noor, tumhe yeh sab sochne ki zarurat nahi hai beta,"

(Noor, you don't need to think about all this,)

Her mother-in-law said, patting the space beside her on the bed like she read her mind.

"Aakriti is fine. Nothing happened and overall. I know it could have been dangerous, but nothing happened right. Don't think too much. "

Noor blinked at her, stunned by the words. She hesitated before sitting on the edge of the bed, her emotions threatening to spill over.

Aakriti reached out, taking Noor's hand. "Bhai bas panic kar gaye the,"

(Bhai just panicked,)

She said with a soft smile, taking Noor's injured hand.

"Unko mujhe hospital le jaane ke alawa kuch socha hi nahi. Us waqt aapke chot par unki nazar hi nahi gayi."

(He didn't think about anything except getting me to the hospital. He didn't even notice your injury at that moment.)

Noor nodded slowly, her throat tight.

"Mujhe pata bhi nahi tha ki aap..."

(I didn't even know that you...)

She hesitated, searching for the right words.

Akriti chuckled lightly.

"Ki main pregnant hoon?"

(That I'm pregnant?)

she asked, her tone teasing.

"Maine kisi ko nahi bataya tha, bhabhi Bas bhai ko pata tha."

(I hadn't told anyone, bhabhi Only Bhai knew.)

Noor's eyes widened.

"Sirf Sidharth ji ko pata tha?"

(Only Siddharth ji knew?)

"Haan,"

(Yes)

Aakriti said with a nod.

"Unhone mujhse kaha tha ki jab tak sab safe na ho, main kisi ko kuch nahi bataungi."

(Yes. He told me not to tell anyone until everything was safe.)

Her voice softened as she added,

"Bhai bahut protective hain, bhabhi. Woh kabhi apno ka bura nahi sochte."

(Bhai is very protective, Noor. He never thinks ill of his loved ones.)

Noor felt a warmth spreading in her chest. The insecurities that had been bubbling inside her began to fade. She turned to her mother-in-law, her voice trembling but sincere.

"Humme laga... shayad... shayad mujhe-."

(I thought... maybe... maybe they -.)

"Blame you?"

Her mother-in-law placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. Noor looked away. Her cheeks red with embarrassment

"Don't be silly."

Her voice softened further.

"Yeh ghar tumhara hai, Noor. We are family. Tum hamari beti ho, aur hum tumhe blame krege?"

(This house is yours, Noor. You are our daughter, and we'll blame you?)

The words were like a balm to Noor's heart. She hadn't realized just how much she needed to hear them until now.

They didn't blame her.

Aakriti squeezed her hand.

"Bhabhi, relax. Aapko meri wajah se khud ko blame mat karo."

(Bhabhi, relax. Don't blame yourself because of me.)

She smiled, her eyes filled with affection.

"Main bas thoda careful nahi thi, aur panic kar gayi. Aapne toh meri madad hi ki thi."

(I was just a bit careless and panicked. You were only trying to help.)

Noor smiled back, a genuine smile that reached her eyes. The heaviness in her chest lifted, replaced by a warmth she hadn't felt since she arrived. For the first time, she felt like she was part of this family, like she belonged.

As she left the room, her heart felt lighter. Tonight, she wasn't just Siddharth's wife. She was Akriti's sister and her mother-in-law's daughter.

And for now, that was enough.

Akriti reached out, taking Noor's uninjured hand gently.

"You've done nothing wrong, bhabhi. Stop overthinking it, okay? And I'm sorry for this. You got hurt because of me"

Noor shook quickly, her lips trembling into a small smile. For the first time that night, the heavy knot of insecurity in her chest began to loosen.

She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and looked at Aakriti, whose smile was warm and genuine.

In that moment, Noor felt something shift inside her. It wasn't sudden or overwhelming, but it was there-a quiet sense of belonging. The words her mother-in-law and Aakriti had spoken weren't grand or dramatic, but they were enough.

As she sat there, she realized she wasn't alone. She was becoming part of this family, slowly but surely. The thought brought a genuine smile to her face, one that reached her eyes this time.

Maybe she wasn't anyone's first priority yet, but tonight, for the first time, she felt like she was being accepted.

And that, for now, was enough.
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Sidharth stood by the window, one hand resting on the sill while the other hung loosely at his side. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows, revealing strong, veined forearms, and the first two buttons of his shirt were undone, a subtle rebellion against the suffocating weight of his own thoughts. The moonlight brushed against his sharp features-his defined jawline, the shadow of stubble, and the calm, composed exterior he wore like armor.

To anyone watching, he appeared emotionless, untouchable even, with a demeanor that exuded command. But inside him, emotions churned in restless waves.

His mind was anything but calm. His mother's words echoed in the back of his head:

Noor hurt herself, too.

He had heard them clearly, but he'd chosen to ignore them then. Now, they clawed at him, tugging at the edges of his composure. He pushed the thought away, staring out at the dark garden below. Worry flickered somewhere deep within, but he refused to acknowledge it. It wasn't his place to care.

Or so he told himself.

His mind was full of her thoughts

His sister was fine, but his wife wasn't. Even at that moment, he knew that. Knew it wasn't a big accident,but the protectiveness inside him kicked so hard. So he thought about nothing.

His chest rose and fell with a controlled breath, the only sign of his inner turmoil. He clenched his jaw and ran a hand through his hair, the movement slow and deliberate, as though it could smooth over the cracks forming in his carefully constructed armor.

His fingers curled briefly into fists before he released them, forcing himself to refocus.

Taking a deep breath, Sidharth turned, his movements slow and deliberate. He un-tugged his shirt from his trousers as he walked toward their bedroom, his broad shoulders straight, his steps firm but unhurried.

The tension in his jaw eased slightly, but his eyes remained dark and unreadable, betraying nothing of the storm brewing within him.

The moment he stepped inside, her scent greeted him.

Jasmine.

He paused just inside as the faint scent of jasmine washed over him. Her scent. It clung to the room, filling the air in a way that felt almost tangible. He closed his eyes briefly, inhaling deeply, as if grounding himself in her presence even without seeing her.

A slow, restrained breath left his lips, his chest rising and falling heavily, but his face betrayed nothing.

When he opened his eyes, his gaze landed on her.

There was his wife.

She lay curled on the bed, her delicate figure framed in the soft shadows of the dimly lit room. Tonight, she had fallen asleep in her saree, its intricate folds draped across her form like a second skin. It was unlike her to sleep without changing.

His eyes lingered on her, tracing the faint rise and fall of her breath, the slight disarray of her hair, the way her arm rested limply at her side.

She looked so small, so breakable, as if the world's slightest weight could crush her. Yet there she was, fast asleep, utterly unaware of the effect she had on him.

Sidharth took a step closer, his movements slower now, as if afraid to disturb the quiet between them.
Sidharth's steps were slow, deliberate, as he crossed the room.

He stopped just before her, his tall frame casting a shadow over her peaceful form. He looked like a giant in front of her sleeping self.

For a long moment, he stood there, his dark mystic teal eyes unreadable, taking in the sight of her. At that moment, the eyes that akways looked blue appeared different,more darker. Something stirred within him-a feeling he couldn't name - something raw, uncontainable, and entirely out of his control.

Without realizing it, he knelt. The weight of his body lowered, his knees pressing into the soft carpet as his gaze remained fixed on her. It wasn't submission; it was something deeper
-a pull he couldn't resist, a quiet surrender to the chaos she unknowingly caused in him.

The room was silent except for the faint sound of her breathing, but the air felt thick, charged with emotions he refused to name. Sidharth reached out, stopping himself just before his fingers could brush against the softness of her skin. His hand hovered there, caught in the space between wanting and holding back.

For a man who thrived on control, this moment felt like an unfamiliar kind of madness. Uncalled madness. But he stayed there, kneeling in the quiet, his eyes heavy with emotions that would never find their way to his lips.

He didn't touch her, didn't move any closer-he simply knelt there, his gaze steady on her face.

For the first time in hours, his mind still felt. She had that effect on him, even when she wasn't trying. And in the quiet of that moment, Sidharth allowed himself to feel-just a little, just enough.

Sidharth's gaze lingered on Noor's face, his knees still pressed into the carpet beside the bed. She looked serene, her soft features untouched by the chaos he carried within him. The eyes that always talk to him even when her Luo doesn't were close, but the mole that attracts was there. Standing out for had attention.

The moonlight streamed through the window, casting gentle shadows on her delicate face.

Her long lashes rested lightly against her skin, her lips parted ever so slightly as she breathed. There was something otherworldly about her-something fragile yet unyielding, as though she existed in a realm he could never quite reach.

His chest tightened, the uninvited pull in his heart growing stronger.

For a moment, he allowed himself to drink in her presence, as though memorizing every detail: the curve of her cheek, the faint flutter of her pulse at her neck, the small frown etched into her forehead even in sleep, the mole above her lips.

She looked so innocent, so untouched by the storm he brought with him.

His eyes fell to her hand resting on the blanket, and the faint, raw wound wrapped in a ruined bandage caught his attention.

A thin, angry, deep wound filled with blood on her delicate skin-a cut deep enough to make him freeze.

For a man who had learned to control his every reaction, the sudden ache in his chest startled him. It wasn't guilt. Not exactly. It was something heavier, something he couldn't quite name.

He rose silently, his movements unhurried but deliberate, his tall frame casting long shadows across the room. He didn't care if she woke now; his focus was entirely on her.

With measured steps, he approached the side table, retrieving the small first aid kit tucked away in the drawer.

Sitting down beside her again, he gently lifted her hand. Her skin was warm against his palm, soft in a way that made him pause. Her hand was so small, fitting into his own like it was meant to be there.

He ran his thumb lightly over the edges of her fingers, his breath hitching at the contrast between her fragility and his strength.

What was this? This strange, unshakable pull toward her?

He shook his head, his jaw tightening as he forced himself to focus. Carefully, he cleaned the wound, his hands steady despite the storm raging inside him. As he wrapped her hand with fresh bandages, his gaze darkened at the sight of the cut.

It wasn't just the depth of the injury that bothered him-it was the realization of his own negligence.

The frown on his face deepened. How had he let it come to this? He had promised her father to protect her, to stand as a shield between her and the world. Yet, somewhere along the way, he had failed.

His heart beat heavily in his chest, the rhythm unfamiliar, like a long-forgotten melody stirring to life. He wasn't supposed to feel this way-not for her, not for anyone. Yet here he was, sitting by her side, consumed by emotions he didn't even recognize anymore.

Sidharth again looked at her face. The peace surrounding her was magical. For someone like him who lives in the chaos of his own past, someone who is thirty for a drop of peace, she was the holy river.

He might not accept it, but just in a few days of knowing her, she was giving him what craved all his life. That too without even asking.

Siddharth stood, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him as he prepared to leave. But as his gaze drifted all over her, he froze.

The saree clung to her, accentuating the gentle curve of her waist. Her smooth skin glowed faintly under the soft light, and her closed eyes made her look even more untouched, untouchable. His gaze traveled slowly, drinking her in like a man starved for something he hadn't realized he craved.

And then, his eyes fell to her feet. The silver payal he had gifted her dangled loosely, its tiny bells gleaming faintly. The sight stirred something primal within him-a strange mix of longing, possessiveness, and an ache he couldn't ignore. A raw feeling, raw emotion he wasn't even acknowledging.

He knelt again, his tall frame folding effortlessly as he lowered himself near her legs, unknowingly. His eyes, now dark and heavy with emotions he couldn't name, fixed on the delicate anklet. His hand hovered for a moment before his fingers brushed lightly against her skin.

And then, leaning closer, like his lips has a brain of their own, he pressed his lips to her payal. The kiss was slow, deliberate, and deep-not an act of worship, but something far more complex. It was more like an act of twisted apology. A silent apology, It carried the weight of his turmoil, his desire, and the strange, undeniable connection that bound him to her.

The soft metal felt cool against his lips, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from her skin. For a moment, he stayed there, his breath warm against her ankle, his thoughts spiraling into chaos.

His mind shut, the coldness of payal giving him a different peace. He closed his eyes for a second before opening it again.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes lingered on her one last time. There was something raw and dangerous in his gaze, something that spoke of a man teetering on the edge of control.

As he stood, his hand brushed against the edge of the bed, his movements slow, as if reluctant to leave. But he must leave. For now.

With one last glance at Noor, Sidharth turned and walked away, his heart pounding, his mind consumed by the woman who had unknowingly turned his world upside down.
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