Rayaan's pov:

She said it.

“I love you.”

And the words hit me like a wave, crashing over everything I’d carefully built up. But instead of pulling me closer, they shoved me back.

I could feel my heart beat faster, louder, but it wasn’t excitement it was panic. A surge of memories hit me, uninvited.

Her. Ayesha.

I remembered how she used to say the same thing. How she promised me she’d never leave, that I was her everything. I believed her. I gave her everything I had, thinking this love would be different.

But then she left. No explanation. No goodbye. Just silence and an empty apartment. I was left with my trust shattered and my heart in pieces, wondering where I went wrong.

Since then, I’ve built walls. High, thick ones. I told myself I’d never be that vulnerable again, never let someone hold that much power over me. Especially not after her.

So when Arvi said it, when she confessed her feelings… it stirred something in me I hadn’t felt in years. Hope. Real, raw hope. And that scared me. Because I knew deep down that if I let myself fall for her, I would be opening myself up to the same hurt.

The same heartbreak.

And I couldn’t do that again. Not to myself. Not to her.

I walked away. Not because I didn’t care, but because I did too much. I loved her too much. And that terrified me.

Yess “I love Arvi.”

“I love my wife, even i pushed myself far away from her but still my hearts loves her.

She was forced to me but not anymore.”

No matter how badly I wanted her

I told myself walking away was strength. That I was protecting us both.

But the truth?

It was fear.

I was terrified of loosing her.

And then tonight, I saw the photo.

Aleesha’s private story.

Only a few names get to see those. Arvi doesn’t know I’m one of them. She doesn’t know I watch.

But I do.

I saw her in that dress. Laughing. Glowing.

And something inside me snapped.

Because while I’m here, unraveling quietly… she looked like she’d already started to forget.

And maybe that’s what I deserve for not staying when she finally let me in.

I couldn't stop staring at the phone. My fingers hovered over the screen, but I didn't immediately reply. The words echoed in my mind, each one piercing deeper than the last.

“Interesting post. Tell Mrs. Oberoi. Does her husband know the kind of image you're putting out there? He might not like it.”

My chest tightened. This wasn’t just some random comment. It was calculated. Cold. A warning.

It felt like the walls were closing in on me. I’d just started to breathe, to exist beyond the suffocating silence of our last encounter. And now, someone someone who probably knew me, knew her was throwing that back at me.

I couldn’t ignore it. I couldn't push it aside and pretend like it didn’t matter. The message, the warning it had my name written all over it, no matter how it was disguised.

Rayaan Oberoi. The husband. The one who should be holding his wife’s hand, not letting her slip through his fingers. But I had pulled away. I'd been afraid. Afraid of getting close, afraid of loving again.

But now? It felt like the universe was throwing it in my face. Reminding me that I wasn’t there for her when she needed me most.

I leaned back in my chair, staring at the phone. My thumb hovered over the screen, but my mind was somewhere else. With Arvi. Her pain. Her confession. That kiss.

I love her.

But I am too afraid of losing her like I had before. My ex. The heartbreak that still haunted me. The one that had shattered me.

I left Arvi because I couldn’t bear the thought of falling for her completely, only for her to leave me like my ex did.

But now I had to face it. I had to admit I was afraid.

I looked at the photo aleesha had posted.

Her smile. Her eyes. The girl I wanted more than anything. The girl I had let slip away.

I pressed my thumb to her photo, holding it there for a long moment I kissed the photo, as if hoping it would somehow bring her back to me.

And then, without thinking, I made it my wallpaper.

I wasn’t ready to admit it, but I missed her.

I missed Arvi.

I told myself I needed to get stronger, to work through this fear before I could fully be the man she needed. I needed to be whole, for her. She deserved more than my broken pieces, more than a man who could barely keep his own heart from shattering.

I had to stay away... at least until I could give her the love she deserved. The love that was pure, without any hesitation or fear.

But every part of me hated that idea. Hated the distance I was creating between us. Hated that I was pushing her away when all I wanted was to pull her closer.

But deep down, I knew I wasn’t ready to be the man I wanted to be for her. Not yet. And that fear? It was suffocating me, making it impossible to feel anything but dread every time I thought about how close I was to losing her because I wasn't strong enough to fight my own demons.

I had to find my strength.

It all started at the restaurant. I remember it so clearly, the way she bumped into me, and the drink spilled all over my shirt. The shock on her face, the apology that followed, and the anger that welled up inside me. She was just another girl, another face, yet she had made me look like a fool.

I told myself I hated her for that moment. But that wasn’t even the worst of it. No, the worst came later, in my own home.

She was in my mansion, standing there like she belonged. And I... I made sure to let her know she didn’t. I called her a gold digger without even knowing her story. Without hearing her side. Without understanding anything about her. My words were cruel, and I didn’t even realize how much they would cut her.

I had no idea what she was going through at that time. I didn’t know the pain, the things she’d been through, the wrath she’d faced. But I couldn’t see past my own bitterness, my own pride. My mother, who always seemed to know more about people than I ever did, told me I was wrong, but I didn’t listen. I couldn’t. I was too hurt, too stubborn to admit I might be wrong.

But then came that night.

That night when everything changed.

I found out the truth. The boys. The ones who had tried to hurt her. I was furious. And when I realized it was the same girl I had treated like dirt, the guilt washed over me in waves. I couldn’t believe what I had done. She wasn’t the gold digger I’d called her. She wasn’t anything like that. She was innocent. My mother had been right all along.

I had no choice but to bring her into my life. To try to make up for the things I’d done. For the words I’d said. But marrying her, it wasn’t something I did with joy. It wasn’t because I loved her. It was because I was too guilty to let her go, too scared of what would happen if I didn’t make it right.

The night when i told her we are only strangers, looking at her, feeling like a stranger in my own marriage. We were two people forced together by circumstances, but we were not a couple. Not in my heart.

And I distanced myself from her, pretending like everything was okay, a part of me died inside. I couldn’t love her. Not yet. Not after everything I had done to her. Not when I still couldn’t forgive myself for the way I had hurt her. For the way I had used her to fill the void of my own broken heart.

I told myself that night, I would stay away from her. I needed to stay away, at least until I could gather the strength to love her. Because I knew, deep down, if I let myself fall for her, I might lose her. And I couldn’t bear that. Not after everything I had put her through.

So, I kept my distance. But I knew... I knew deep down that I was afraid. Afraid of losing her. Afraid of loving her too much. Afraid of letting my walls come down.

But it was too late. I had already let her in.

No matter how I behaved in past I will make up to her she is mine, mine to love, mine to  kiss, mine to —, Behave Rayaan! Behave.

She is my little fragile wifey.

Arvi's pov:

The next morning came too quickly, my head still buzzing from the laughter and sugar overload of the night before. My heart, though still bruised, didn’t feel quite as shattered.

When I returned to the Oberoi Mansion, everything looked the same the marble floors, the grand staircase, the silence that usually pressed heavy on my shoulders. But this time, I felt lighter. Maybe because I wasn’t carrying it all alone anymore.

Later that afternoon, I found myself sitting in the study room with Vanisha. She had a notebook open, frustration creasing her forehead as she tried to make sense of algebra.

“No, look,” I said gently, pointing at the problem. “You just substitute this value here. Like this see?”

Her eyes lit up. “Ohhh. That’s actually... not so bad.”

I smiled. “Told you. You're getting it.”

I smiled to myself. There was something oddly peaceful about this, this tiny moment of normalcy.

That peace was interrupted when I heard the faint echo of footsteps approaching, followed by a familiar voice.

“Arvi beta,” Choti Maa called from the hallway.

I stood up quickly and stepped out of the room. She was waiting there with her usual warm-but-stern expression, eyes already scanning me head to toe. “Come with us. We’re going to meet a girl for Vivaan’s rishta.”

For a second, I blinked. “Vivaan’s rishta?”

She nodded, the faintest smile tugging at her lips. “Haan. A good family has sent a proposal. And since we’re all going, you’ll come too. You’re his bhabhi, after all. Badi Bahu of this house.”

There was a pause long enough for her words to settle into my chest. She said it so casually, like it was obvious. But to me, it wasn’t. Not yet. Not fully.

Still, I nodded. “Of course, Choti Maa.”

The Oberoi convoy moved in style two cars packed with bodygaurds, laughter spilling before we even left the gates. Choti Maa sat in the front seat with Chote Papa and maa Papa in other car,excitement barely contained. Everyone was in high spirits.

Except Vivaan.

He sat beside me in the backseat, quiet. Not the usual chirpy, joke cracking Vivaan who could make even the driver laugh. He was… still. His gaze fixed outside the window, as if counting trees instead of moments.

I nudged him lightly. “You okay?”

He turned slowly, plastering a smile on. “Yeah, just… tired. Long week.”

But it didn’t convince me.

This was Vivaan, the same boy who once danced around the living room making everyone happy. The one who called me “Arvi bhabhi” with a teasing wink that made the whole family laugh.

But today, that spark was missing. There was a weight in his eyes I hadn’t seen before.

I wanted to ask more. But the car pulled into the driveway of the girl’s house, and the moment passed.

Still… something tugged at my heart.

I’d always seen him as my little brother. Sweet. Mischievous. Loyal.

But today, as he silently followed behind me, that silence spoke volumes.

And I couldn’t help but wonder was this really about a rishta?

Or was he quietly breaking inside, the way I once had?

The visit was everything a typical rishta meeting should be warm welcomes, sweets served with nervous smiles, and subtle glances between families. The girl was lovely. Polite. Pretty. Perfect, by traditional standards.

Everyone seemed pleased.

Except Vivaan.

He sat beside Bade Papa, answering questions when asked, nodding when needed. But his eyes never lit up. His laugh didn’t reach his eyes. And when the girl’s mother made a lighthearted comment about their future being “so bright together,” I saw it.

That flicker of discomfort. So quick, so small no one else noticed.

But I did.

He looked like someone playing a role. Not living it.

When we returned to the mansion, everyone discussed wedding prospects excitedly. Maa, Choti Maa was glowing. Bade Papa already making future plans.

But Vivaan disappeared.

And I couldn’t ignore the way my chest ached a little watching him go upstairs, head low.

So I followed.

I knocked gently on his door, and when he didn’t answer, I walked in.

He was sitting on the floor by his bed, arms resting on his knees, head tilted back against the wall.

“Vivaan?” I said softly.

He didn’t move.

I sat beside him.

“What’s going on?” I asked. “You’ve been quiet since morning. And don’t say you’re tired I know you better.”

He sighed, eyes closed. “Nothing’s wrong, bhabhi. Just… needed some air.”

I gave him a look.

He cracked the smallest smile. “Okay, fine. Maybe a lot of air.”

I waited. Let the silence stretch.

Finally, he said, “Everyone’s so happy. Mom, Dad, even Choti Maa Chote Papa. I should be happy too, right?”

“But you’re not,” I said gently.

He shook his head. “No. I’m not.”

“Why?”

He looked at me then really looked at me and my heart sank.

“I’m not happy because…” he paused, then said it, low and honest, “because I love someone else.”

My breath caught.

“What?” I whispered, blinking in surprise.

He nodded slowly, looking away, his jaw tense. “I’m in love with someone else, bhabhi.”

I stared at him, stunned. That wasn’t what I expected not after the way he’d been behaving, not after the way I’d assumed his quietness had something.

“Who” I started, then stopped, the thoughts in my head spinning too fast to form words.

He hesitated, then looked at me again. “Promise you won’t tell anyone?”

“I promise.”

He bit the inside of his cheek and said, “It’s Nia.”

My eyes widened. “Nia? My Nia?”

He gave the smallest nod. “I’ve liked her for a long time now. She’s different. Real. I don’t even know if she sees me that way, but every time I look at her… it’s like I see everything I want in one person.”

I smiled, heart softening. “Vivaan… why didn’t you say anything before?”

He shrugged. “Because I thought I had time. And now, this rishta… it’s happening so fast. Everyone's so excited. I don’t want to disappoint them. But I don’t know what to do either.”

I reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to make anyone happy at the cost of your own heart, Vivaan. If you love her, you should fight for it. I’ll help you.”

His eyes glistened with gratitude. “You really mean that?”

“I do,” I smiled. “Let’s talk to Nia. Let’s figure this out together. But first, let’s breathe.”

He smiled through the emotion, and for the first time that day, a bit of his usual brightness returned.

I closed the door to my room, heart thudding in my chest. I couldn’t sit with this alone. Not tonight.

My fingers hovered over my phone before I finally tapped Nia’s name.

She picked up on the second ring. “Hey babe, what’s up?”

I sat on the edge of my bed, voice a little shaky. “Nia… I need to tell you something. And I need you to be honest with me.”

Her tone shifted immediately. “Okay… you’re scaring me a little. What’s wrong?”

I took a deep breath. “It’s about Vivaan.”

A pause. “Vivaan?”

“He told me today… he’s in love with you.”

Silence.

For a second, I thought the call had disconnected. But then she sighed. “Arvi… no.”

“What do you mean ‘no’?”

“I mean I don’t love him,” she said softly, gently but firmly. “I’ve always joked around with him, flirted, yes. But it was never serious for me. I didn’t think it was for him either.”

I swallowed. “Nia, he’s not pretending. He’s sure. He said he’s liked you for a long time.”

Her voice dropped. “I had no idea. If I had even an inkling, I would’ve backed off completely. You know me. I would never lead someone on if I knew it meant something.”

“I know,” I whispered. “I know you wouldn’t. But… he’s hurting. There’s a rishta on the table for him and he can’t even pretend to be happy about it.”

“I feel awful,” Nia whispered. “But I can’t lie, Arvi. I don’t feel that way about him. He’s sweet, and I care about him, but I don’t love him. And I don’t want to start something out of guilt either.”

“I understand,” I said, rubbing my forehead. “Thank you for being honest. I’ll… I’ll talk to him.”

“Will he be okay?”

“I don’t know,” I murmured. “But he will be. He has me.”

“And he’s lucky for that,” she said gently.

We said our goodnights after that, but I didn’t sleep for a long while. My heart felt heavy for Vivaan, for Nia, for the silent storms people carry in the quiet corners of their hearts.

He would need strength.

And I would be there, like always.

After the call with Nia ended, I just sat there.

Still.

Silent.

Until the silence cracked.

I buried my face in my hands as the tears came fast, too fast to stop this time. Not for Vivaan. Not for Nia. This ache… this was something else.

“Rayaan,” I whispered, like saying his name might summon him back. Back from wherever he was. Back to the way things were before I said the words that ruined everything.

I missed him.

So much it physically hurt.

I missed the way he looked at me when no one was watching. The way he said my name like it meant something. Like I meant something. I missed the little talks, the rare laughs, the quiet moments when it felt like maybe, just maybe, we were real.

But he left.

Two months.

No goodbye.

Just silence.

And now here I was, crying into a pillow in a room that smelled like him. Wrapped in a dupatta I hadn’t washed because it still held his scent.

“I told you I loved you,” I whispered, voice cracking, “and you disappeared.”

The walls felt too tight, my skin too heavy. I wanted to scream. To tear something apart just to match what I felt inside.

But all I could do was cry.

Because I missed my husband.

I missed the man who made my heart stutter.

And the worst part?

I didn’t even know if he missed me too.