35.

NAINA

The sight of my father's body—no, the grotesque, deformed corpse that barely resembled the man I loved—hits me with the force of a thousand nightmares. My knees buckle, and a violent wave of nausea surges through me.

I barely make it to the sink before I vomit, my entire body convulsing with the force of my grief. The sour taste of bile burns my throat, but it's nothing compared to the searing pain in my chest, where my heart feels like it's being ripped apart, piece by piece.

Nihal's words echo in my mind, a cruel taunt that I can't escape.

"I promise you the worst possible death, Nihal Ahuja," I whisper hoarsely, my voice trembling with a mix of rage and sorrow. My hands grip the edges of the sink, knuckles white, as I try to steady myself. The world spins, blurring at the edges as the weight of everything threatens to crush me.

Suddenly, my phone pings. The sound is jarring in the suffocating silence. I fumble to retrieve it, Mihir's name flashing on the screen. My heart races as I swipe to open the message, my breath hitching in my throat.

Mihir:

Bhai has regained consciousness.

Relief crashes over me like a tidal wave, so powerful it almost knocks me off my feet. A lone tear, hot and heavy with the intensity of my emotions, slips down my cheek.

I wipe it away quickly, almost angrily, as if ashamed to show even a moment of vulnerability. There's no time for that now. I need to be strong—stronger than I've ever been.

With one last glance at the mirror, at the reflection of a woman who's been pushed to her breaking point and beyond, I turn and walk out of the washroom.

The resolve in my heart hardens. There's no room for weakness, no space for fear. I have a promise to keep, and nothing in this world will stop me from seeing it through.

REYANSH

Everyone was standing around me, checking up on me, offering their condolences, making sure I was all right. But how do I tell them that it's my heart that's truly hurting? Their words bounce off the surface, unable to reach the depth of the pain I'm drowning in.

The entire Malhotra family is here, except for one member. My heart aches to see her, to catch just a glimpse, to feel the warmth that only she can bring. But she's not here, and the emptiness gnaws at me. Collecting myself, I force a smile, swallowing down the tears threatening to spill over.

One by one, everyone begins to leave, giving me space, until only Nandini Maa remains. She takes a seat beside me, her presence a familiar comfort, though it does little to soothe the storm raging inside me.

"Reyansh, dear, I know you're searching for her," she says softly, her voice tender and full of concern. But even her gentle words fail to ease the ache in my chest.

"Where is she, Maa?" My voice cracks under the weight of emotion, and a lone tear escapes, trailing down my cheek.

"She'll kill me for telling you this," Maa says, her own voice trembling, "but I can't bear to see you suffer like this. She's outside, Reyansh, but she doesn't have the strength to face you. We all tried convincing her, but... she just won't come in."

Maa's voice breaks at the end, and she continues, struggling to keep her composure. "Do you know what today is?" she asks, her words gentle yet probing.

I search my mind, trying to recall, but it's all a blur. I look at her, confused and lost, seeking answers.

"It's her father's death anniversary today," Maa reveals, her words landing like a punch to my gut.

Suddenly, everything makes sense—the distance, the hesitation, the pain that mirrors my own. The weight of her grief mingles with mine, and I realize how much I need to see her, to be there for her, as much as she needs to be for me.

"Reyansh, none of us saw the body. Only Naina did. She didn't let any of us near it. That day... we had a huge fight. It was the first and only time she ever raised her voice at me and Kainaat. Later, she broke down in my arms, sobbing like a child, and apologized," she says, a faint smile appearing on her face at the memory.

"But why wouldn't she let anyone see it?" My voice is laced with curiosity, a nagging confusion growing within me. Naina never spoke about her father's death-not once.

"From what I know... his body was devastatingly deformed. His skull was split open, one of his eyes... it was out of its socket. He was crushed, Reyansh, like paper crumpled by a careless hand.

They didn't even perform an autopsy."

The words hang heavy in the air, a silence that seems to stretch on Forever. I try to imagine the horror, but it's impossible. The thought alone makes my skin crawl.

"Just the thought of it haunts me. I can't even begin to comprehend how much it must have tormented Naina-how that image must be seared into her mind. I still remember her screams, Reyansh... how she'd wake up in the middle of the night, trembling, her face as pale as a ghost. She cut herself off from the world after that. She flew to the U.S., and for five years... we barely spoke more than ten times."

Tears roll down Maa's cheeks, and without hesitation, I pull her into an embrace, holding her as my own heart splinters inside my chest.

"Maa, can you do me a favor?" I ask, my voice barely a whisper.

She nods, wiping her tears. "Anything, dear," she replies.

"Can I take your car?"

She smiles softly, handing me the keys.

I hug her tightly, the warmth of her love seeping into my aching soul.

With a sense of urgency, I rush out of the house, my heart pounding in my chest. As I start the car, memories flood my mind, carrying me back to the beginning of our story-the place where it all started.

That old school building, so much history held within its walls. With trembling hands, I pull out the other phone from my pocket and send Naina my location. The message is immediately marked as seen. Enough of this hide-and-seek, my biwi jaan.

I park in front of the old building, the sight of it pulling at my heartstrings. So many emotions, so many memories wrapped up in this place.

As I take a deep breath, I notice a car approaching in the distance. I know it's her, but even in this moment, I find myself wishing she'd slow down, just a little, but I know she won't.

She hastily steps out of the car, and for a moment, it feels like time has folded in on itself, dragging me back to that day, years ago.

The same building looms over us, the same faces move about, but today, there's something profoundly different. This time, we both love each other, and that changes everything.

"Reyansh," her voice trembles, barely a whisper, as if she's afraid speaking louder would shatter this fragile moment.

Without a second thought, I stride towards her, the urgency in my steps matching the pounding of my heart. I pull her into my embrace, feeling the warmth of her body against mine, her presence grounding me in the here and now.

"I love you too, my biwi jaan. You are my everything," I whisper into her hair, my voice heavy with the weight of all the emotions I've kept locked away.

"I'll love you till the last star in the galaxy dies, till the heat of the sun fades to cold, till the moon stops shining in the sky. I'll keep loving you, my biwi jaan. You remember when you called me your moon? Par Naina, Chandni ke baghaar chand sirf ek pathar hai."

She pulls back just enough to look at me, her eyes brimming with tears that spill over, tracing the contours of her cheeks.

They fall freely, mirroring the ones I can feel slipping down my own face. In that moment, our sorrow, our love, our everything, intertwines. She clings to me, her arms tightening around my back as she breaks down, her sobs reverberating off the walls of the old building, filling the space between us with the rawness of her pain.

"I-I am sorry, Ansh, I-I am so sorry," she stammers between her sobs, the words tumbling out of her, heavy and desperate. "No amount of sorry can make up for what I did."

I gently stroke her hair, my fingers threading through the soft strands as I hold her closer, allowing her to release all the anguish she's been carrying.

"It's okay, biwi jaan, it's okay. See, I'm standing here, all fine," I murmur soothingly, though my own voice trembles with the effort to stay strong for her. My heart aches, not for what she did, but for the burden she's been bearing, and I silently vow that she'll never have to carry it alone again.