Just as laughter filled the dining room and Vidhi's innocent mischief had lifted the heaviness of the air, something stirred inside me. A sudden pull of memory - sharp, vivid, unstoppable.
I remembered everything.
It all began months ago, when I had missed an important exam I had worked so hard for. All because there was no one to drive me to the center, despite the fact that our porch was filled with cars. I didn't know how to drive then. The helplessness had burned inside me like fire, until finally, Shashwat bhaiya himself had decided that enough was enough. He taught me how to drive.
I was a complete noob back then—nervous hands, shaky feet—and in one of those early lessons, I accidentally crashed his favorite car. He had stayed calm, but I still remember how my heart dropped. With time, though, I learned. I became confident. And now? Now I was more than just good. I was a pro. Sometimes, Nishant bhaiya and I even sneaked out late at night, racing down empty highways, competing like little children, keeping our secret thrill away from the rest of the family.
But one memory overshadowed all of that.
" The day Harsh was taken."
I was at the mall, carefully picking gifts for my little brother's upcoming birthday. The air smelled of new clothes, perfumes, and freshly brewed coffee. And then, like a nightmare tearing through daylight, policemen appeared. They surrounded Harsh. My baby brother. And before I could process anything, they dragged him away right before my eyes.
I froze. My voice broke as I tried to stop them, but no one listened. I fumbled with my phone, calling bhaiya, calling Nakul bhaiya, calling anyone—but no one picked up. The world spun around me, panic clawed at my chest, and before I knew it, I had run to the parking lot, jumped into my car, and sped away recklessly, tears blinding my vision.
At the police station, I begged to meet him. The SHO looked me dead in the eye and said coldly, "You can't."
That was when the media descended like vultures, their cameras flashing, their voices echoing with poisonous headlines: "Shashwat Singh's brother accused of murder." "The IT empire tainted by scandal." " IT masterminds or perfect criminals "
Each word stabbed deeper.
I argued with the officers, my voice cracking, fury boiling but suddenly the air outside split with the screech of tires. I turned, and my heart froze.
Kabir
My ex-boyfriend.
Why was he here?
I didn't know. I didn't even care in that moment. Overwhelmed, shaking, broken, I hugged him. I needed someone. Anyone.
But as I pulled away, I felt another gaze. Burning. Scorching.
Vihaan had entered, his eyes locked on me, his jaw clenched so tightly it looked like it might break. That death glare—dark, merciless—made my skin crawl as if he would rip me apart for what I had just done. He had always hated Kabir . But this was different. This was worse.
Before I could even breathe, Shashwat bhaiya and Nakul bhaiya arrived. And at the sight of them, all the strength left my body. I fainted.
The next thing I remembered was the cold, sterile whiteness of a private hospital room. The beeping of machines. The sting of antiseptic in the air.
And Nishant bhaiya.
He was sitting there, head bent, his eyes red and swollen as if he had been crying endlessly. But the moment my eyes fluttered open, he quickly turned his face away, hiding his pain from me. My heart twisted. He was worried sick, and I knew it.
Before I could say a word, he pressed the emergency button. Doctors rushed in, their voices a blur as they checked me, asked questions, and finally gave me an injection. My vision blurred again, the weight of the world pulling me back into darkness.
When I woke next, I was home. Discharged, wrapped back into the rhythm of everyday life. Except nothing was the same.
I buried myself in my studies, using them as an escape. As I was neither able to sleep well nor see my family suffering like this. I couldn't cry in front of anyone, even though the sadness gnawed at me from inside. Mummy was distressed, Papa stretched thin between family and responsibilities. I had no right to add to their burden. So I smiled. I laughed. I pretended.
I even began ignoring my friends, one by one. Even Yash. Because I couldn't afford to break.
And in those days, I realised that my insomnia had grown worse so I decided to use this as my power as one thing became clear: I didn't want IT. I didn't want gaming. I wanted law. Like Nakul bhaiya. I wanted to fight, to stand strong, to never again feel helpless the way I had outside that police station.
Back to today.
At the dinner table, I was pushing food around my plate, lost in that storm, when Vidhi's little voice pulled me back.
"Cheyyyaaa, what happened? Why aren't you eating?" she asked, her big eyes watching me.
Before I could respond, Vihaan interrupted sharply, "Vidhi, call her didi. She's almost ten years older than you."
But Vidhi puffed her cheeks and shot back, "No! Cheyyyaaa is going to be your wife one day, so I'm not calling her didi. That will make you both brother and sister. Huhhh!"
The entire table erupted in laughter, breaking the tension like sunlight piercing through storm clouds. My cheeks burned, but I couldn't help smiling at her innocence.
Dinner ended, and Vidhi tugged at my hand.
"Cheyyaaa, remember your promise? Ice cream!"
I glanced at the clock. It was nearly midnight—11:37 PM. I whispered, "Tomorrow, Vidhi. It's too late now."
But she pouted, her eyes glistening like little puppy eyes. "Please…"
It was drizzling outside. Against my better judgment, I gave in. "Fine. But change your clothes first."
As she ran off, I quickly texted Yash to pick us up from the gate. I couldn't risk taking out the car—it would alert everyone. We were about to sneak out when a hand tapped my shoulder.
Vihaan.
He stood there in a light grey t-shirt and dark lowers, casual yet annoyingly perfect. His expression, though, was as exasperating as always. "Where are you going?" he demanded.
Vidhi spoke up instantly. "Cheyyaaa promised me ice cream. We're going!"
He checked the time on his phone, then looked back at me with that deadly glare. But when Vidhi clasped her hands and pleaded with her puppy eyes, he sighed in defeat. "Fine. Wait. I'll grab my wallet."
I shook my head. "No worries. I have money."
"So it's your treat then?" he smirked.
I nodded, still processing the fact that he had actually agreed.
I took my phone out and was about to call Yash that there's no need for him to come now as someone is accompanying us but to my greater surprise my phone rang and while hiding his name and I accidentally picked the call and it was on speaker and he shouted " I'm outside your house come out already I've been waiting here "
Before I could say no, Vihaan's voice cut through: "Let's go."
I froze. He knew. And yet… he agreed.
Outside, Yash leaned casually against his car, dressed sharp like he had just walked out of a meeting. He waved at me, smiling. I waved back. Vihaan's side-eye, however, could have burned holes through the ground.
We went to the mall, found Baskin Robbins, and ordered ice cream. While paying, my wallet fell, spilling my anti-depression pills. I quickly put them back, hoping no one noticed. But Vihaan's sharp gaze caught them instantly. He realized how badly I had been suffering since Harsh's incident. Vidhi sat beside me, happily digging into her scoop, while Vihaan and Yash sat across from us. The tension between them was so thick it was suffocating.
After we finished, Yash handed me a cold coffee—the one I always loved. "Guess you missed it," he said softly.
I smiled, trying to ignore the silent storm brewing between Yash and Vihaan.
Back home, Yash hugged me for the first time—firm, deliberate, like he wanted someone else to see. Vihaan stormed inside, slamming the door so hard it shook the walls. Then only I couldn't help but recall what I saw earlier in the parking lot - Vihaan and Yash, their discussion tense, voices sharp, almost a heated argument. The thought made my heart skip.
Vidhi whispered, "Bhaiya is just jealous."
We laughed together, but something inside me tightened.
Later that night, after putting Vidhi to sleep, I lay awake. After Harsh's incident, insomnia kept me awake. Restless, I grabbed my phone and earbuds and went to the terrace. Vihaan had gone to get water from the kitchen and saw me walking up with a long, stressed face, like I could break down any moment. He followed me .
The crescent moon hung in the drizzle-streaked sky. I played my playlist—sad songs that hurt and healed me at once. Curling up in my usual spot, I let the music carry me.
Suddenly, one of my earbuds was tugged away.
I turned.
Vihaan.
He slid in beside me, casually fitting the earbud into his ear. The song shifted, and the lyrics filled the night air - haunting, raw, uncomfortably close to my own heart.
I turned to look at him, startled. He said nothing. Just stared at the moon with me, silently.
I turned on my favorite playlist, letting the soothing sad songs fill the air. The first song started:
"Jaana tu aata nahin
Sapnon se jaata nahin
Mil jaaye kya hi baat thi
Kaamil ho jaata wahin
Jaana mere sawaalon ka manzar tu
Haan main sookha sa saara samandar tu
Haan gulabi si surkhi jo dikhti thi
Phir se dikh jey toh
Jee bhar ke saah bhar loon
Kaati kitni thi raatein nahin soya main
Tujhko kitna bulaya phir roya main
Teri saari wo baatein
kyun sone nahin deti
Sataye mujhe haan phir khoya main"
Vihaan smiled softly at me while listening. His presence beside me, calm yet commanding, made the restless edges of my insomnia feel slightly muted.
He looked at me, unreadable expression but smiling softly, understanding me without words.
I glanced at him; he turned away, staring silently at the moon. Then the song switched:
"Ye raat bheegi bheegi ye mast fijaye
Utha dheere dheere wo chaand pyara pyara
Kyun aag si laga ke gumsum hai chandani
Sone bhi nahi deta mausam ka ye ishara"
We laughed together. I teased, "This algorithm is listening to us, I guess." He glanced at me and laughed softly , his gaze lingering longer than it should have.
And for the first time… it felt different.
Something had changed.
That night, with Vihaan beside me, the moon above, and music around, I felt a strange mix of calm and unease a shadow of the past lingering, and a hint that things were far from over.