Arvi's pov:

The next morning, sunlight spilled through the curtains, far too bright for how heavy my heart felt.

I sat up slowly, eyes swollen, throat dry. My body ached from crying, but I couldn’t sit in that space anymore. Not today.

Because today I had to face Vivaan.

I had to tell him the truth.

I splashed cold water on my face, pulled my hair back, and forced myself downstairs.

The living room buzzed with soft chatter. Choti Maa, Chote Papa, and Maa Papa were sitting with their morning tea. Arekha Vanisha Aleesha were scrolling through their phones, whispering and laughing.

Everyone looked… normal.

And for a moment, I envied that. That simple peace.

But my eyes searched for one face.

Vivaan.

He stood by the window, alone, staring outside with a blank expression. A cup in his hand, untouched.

Something in my chest tugged.

This wasn’t the cheerful, cheeky Vivaan I knew.

He was quiet. Guarded. Off.

And I knew I couldn’t delay it anymore.

I had to tell him what I knew what Nia told me.

I walked toward him, each step feeling heavier than the last. My heart pounded, but I forced a soft smile.

“Vivaan,” I said gently, stopping beside him.

He turned slowly, his eyes tired. “Bhabhi.”

“I need to talk to you,” I said, keeping my voice low. “Privately.”

He looked at me for a moment, then gave a slight nod. “Come.”

We walked to the garden, away from the others.

The air was still.

I turned to face him, my voice steady despite the nerves twisting in my stomach. “About the girl you love…”

His jaw tightened.

“Vi....Vivaan she doesn’t love you back,” I said softly. “Nia told me last night. She flirts, but… she never meant it that way. I’m so sorry.”

Silence.

Then, Vivaan let out a long, shuddering breath and looked up at the sky.

“I kind of knew,” he said quietly. “I just didn’t want it to be true.”

My heart ached for him. “You deserve someone who sees you. Who loves you completely.”

He gave a sad smile. “Like you love Rayaan bhai?”

I froze.

The words cut through the morning air like a blade.

Vivaan didn’t say more. Just turned and walked back toward the house, leaving me standing there, heart pounding all over again.

I stepped into the living room, just as Vivaan’s voice rang out.

“I want to get married next month,” he said clearly, confidently. “Call Bhai. Tell him to come back. We need to start planning.”

The room froze for a second.

And then chaos.

“What?” Vanisha almost choked on her tea. “Acha? This is how you announce something so huge? Just like that?”

Sulekha Maa narrowed her eyes. “Vivaan, what’s the rush? Marriage is not a college assignment you can just submit in thirty days.”

“Beta,” Chote Papa added, setting his newspaper down, “do you even know what you’re saying? Shaadi next month? Tumhein kya laga, shaadi mandap Amazon pe milta hai?”

Vivaan only smiled, shrugging. “I’ve made up my mind.”

Arekha pretended to faint onto the couch. “You’re serious? You? The guy who once backed out of a date because it was raining?”

Aleesha gasped. “This is not a drill, people. Vivaan Oberoi wants to get married!”

Choti Maa just beamed, already pulling her phone out. “Good! I’ll start checking mahurats. You kids think we oldies can’t arrange things quickly?”

The laughter, the teasing it filled the room.

But I didn’t laugh.

Because my eyes were fixed on Vivaan.

He was smiling. Laughing even.

But his eyes...

His eyes told a different story.

A story of hurt. Of escape. Of trying too hard to look like he was okay.

And my heart clenched.

He was doing this for the wrong reason.

He was running.

From his feelings.

From me.

And in that moment, I knew I couldn’t stay silent anymore.

I closed the door behind me, the soft click somehow louder than anything else in the house. My room felt too quiet, too still. Like it was waiting for me to fall apart.

I sat down on the edge of the bed, clutching my phone like it could save me from everything I didn’t want to feel. My fingers moved on their own, opening Rayaan’s chat, his name like a weight on my chest.

Vivaan is not okay

I typed it before I could stop myself.

Then stared at it.

Deleted it.

I need to talk to you, its important.

Backspace.

I dropped the phone onto the bed and buried my face in my hands. Why was this so hard? Why couldn’t I just tell him what was happening?

I missed him. So much. More than I thought possible. And for once, I didn’t want to be strong. I didn’t want to carry all of this alone. Not when Vivaan was hurting. Not when I could see him breaking a little more every day.

I reached for the phone again, desperate for anything to ground me. This time I typed:

I dont know what to do anymore, Come back not for me but for Vivaan.

The words blinked back at me like they were too honest.

Too raw.

And just like that… I erased them too.

I stared at the empty screen, the silence of the room crawling up my spine. It felt like I was standing at the edge of something I didn’t understand. Something that terrified me.

I tossed the phone aside and hugged my knees, my chest tightening.

I didn’t know what to do.

I couldn’t tell Rayaan.

And I couldn’t watch Vivaan crumble either.

So where did that leave me?

Alone. Again.

And somehow… it hurt more now than it ever did before.

I held the railing tightly as I made my way down the stairs, each step feeling heavier than the last. My head was spinning, thoughts tangled Vivaan’s words, Nia’s truth, Rayaan’s absence. It was all too much.

My vision blurred for a moment. I blinked rapidly, trying to steady myself.

Keep walking, Arvi. Just a few more steps.

But everything around me started to tilt. The sounds in the living room became distant echoes. I could hear laughter… teasing… Vanisha’s voice maybe. Chote Papa’s chuckle.  Maa saying something. But I couldn’t make out the words.

Suddenly, the ground didn’t feel stable anymore.

My grip on the railing loosened.

And then

Darkness.

I heard someone scream my name, maybe Vanisha, The sharp gasp of  Maa. A thud my body hitting the steps and chaos exploded around me.

“Arviiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii”

But I couldn’t respond. Couldn’t even open my eyes.

I was slipping further, into something quiet. And all I wanted in that moment… was Rayaan.

Authors pov:

The corridor outside the operation room was heavy with grief and fear, every second stretching unbearably.

Vanisha stood frozen, tears streaming freely down her cheeks. She kept murmuring “Bhabhii…” over and over, like a chant, her voice trembling with every word. Sulekha wrapped her arms around her, trying to steady her, though her own face was wet with tears too. Her stoic strength had cracked this wasn’t just her daughter-in-law, this was her child.

Aleesha sat on the bench with her head in her hands, sobbing softly. Arekha leaned against her shoulder, crying too, her eyes swollen and red. “She was fine in the morning… she smiled at me… why didn’t we notice something was wrong?” she whispered, over and over.

Shankar turned away for a moment, brushing his hand over his face, trying to compose himself but his eyes glistened too. Even he, the calmest of them all, couldn’t hide the weight of this moment.

Vivaan still hadn’t moved. He stood staring at the doors, lips pressed tightly together, eyes glassy. The guilt in his eyes now mixed with helplessness, and something deeper heartbreak.

The entire Oberoi family was breaking in slow motion, all holding on to each other, whispering prayers, fearing the worst as the doors to the operation room stayed shut.

And still… no one had called Rayaan.

Arekha’s voice cracked as she spoke again, the weight of the situation settling on her like a storm. “We should call Bhai,” she said, her words almost desperate. “He has to know what’s happening. Arvi needs him. We all need him.”

Her statement hung in the air, and for a moment, no one responded. The room had been silent for so long, as if they were all waiting for someone to break the stillness and take action. But the reality was too much for all of them to handle Rayaan had to be informed, whether they were ready for his arrival or not.

Vivaan, his face a mix of guilt and concern, nodded solemnly. “I’ll call him,” he said quietly, voice thick with emotion.

Sulekha wiped her tears, her face drawn with worry. She hadn’t said a word since Arekha spoke, but her expression conveyed everything. It was time.

“We can’t do this alone,” Sulekha murmured, looking at each of them in turn. “Call him, Vivaan. Now.”

Arekha reached for her phoneRayaan's pov:

I sat at the head of the long mahogany conference table, shoulders squared, spine straight, the weight of Oberoi Industries resting on me like a crown. The room was quiet except for the firm voices of department heads presenting their quarterly numbers. But the moment I entered, silence had cut the air like a blade.

My presence did that.

I wasn’t just the CEO. I was Rayaan Oberoi commanding, calculated, unshaken.

Even when I didn’t speak, people listened.

The glass windows behind me stretched from floor to ceiling, casting my shadow across the glossy floor. The team sat forward in their chairs, every eye alert, every breath measured. No one dared check their phones. No one dared look distracted.

But me?

I was miles away.

My jaw clenched as I stared at the screen. The numbers danced, graphs shifted but none of it reached me. A storm was building in my chest, quiet yet wild. My fingers tapped against the table once. Sharp. Controlled. Still, it felt like something was breaking its way into my mind.

I wasn’t a man who let instinct guide him.

But right now? My gut screamed.

Something was wrong.

I felt it in my veins. I felt it like heat in my throat. I reached for my phone, pretending to check something important but my eyes flew straight to her name.

Arvi.

No call. No text.

My thumb hovered. I wanted to message her. Needed to. But I didn’t. Not yet.

Because I knew this silence wasn’t ordinary.

And when silence screams this loud…

It only means a storm is coming.

The conference room was silent, all eyes fixed on me as I presented the quarterly expansion strategy. I was in control commanding, confident. This was my arena, and every word I said held weight.

Then a soft knock.

Before I could ignore it, the door creaked open. Advik stood there, visibly unsettled. My brows furrowed. He never interrupted unless something was seriously wrong.

I gave him a sharp look. “What is it?”

He hesitated for a second, then stepped in slightly. “Sir… I’m really sorry, but you have an urgent call.”

“I said no disturbances during—”

“It’s from Vivaan sir,” he cut in, his voice unusually low. “It’s… important.”

The air shifted around me. A cold dread gripped my chest. I could feel my control slipping not externally, never that but inside, something twisted.

I turned to the room. “Clear it.”

No one argued. No one even dared. One look at my face and they knew. My presence changed sudden, sharp like a storm building in silence.

When the door shut behind the last executive, I held my hand out. “Phone.”

Advik placed it in my palm. “He sounded… shaken.”

I answered. “Vivaan?”

His voice cracked. “Bhai… bhabhi fainted. She she fell unconscious. On the stairs. We’re at City Hospital.”

Everything inside me stilled.

For a second, I didn’t breathe. The phone trembled in my hand.

“I’m coming,” I said, already storming out.

I didn’t even wait for Vivaan’s reply. The second the call ended, I turned to Advik, who was still frozen at the door.

“Book my tickets to India. NOW. FAST!!.” My voice was sharp cutting through the air like a blade.

He stammered, “Y-yes, sir.”

“Get the damn car ready. I want to leave for the airport in five minutes.”

People outside looked up, startled, but I didn’t care. My footsteps echoed like thunder as I stormed down the hallway, heart pounding.

I had never felt this helpless. Not in boardrooms, not in battles, not ever. But right now right now, I wasn’t Rayaan Oberoi, the ruthless tycoon.

I was just a husband trying to reach the one person who meant everything to him.

The moment I stepped into the hospital corridor, I saw them all of them. Maa turned first, her eyes red, lips trembling. She didn’t say a word just ran into my arms. I held her tightly as if somehow that would fix what was broken.

Vanisha was next. She was crying so hard, her whole body shook. Then Aleesha… Arekha… All of them surrounded me, faces wet with tears. I’d never seen my sisters like this. Not even once.

“What the hell happened?” I asked, voice low but laced with danger. I could feel it the rage crawling just beneath my skin. “What did the doctor say?”

No one answered at first. Then Dad stepped forward, placing a trembling hand on my shoulder.

His words sliced right through me.

“Doctor said… Arvi is in critical condition.”

For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. The world tilted. Everything else every face, every noise faded into the background.

Critical.

My Arvi.

No.

No, she can’t leave me. Not like this.

“CRITICAL?” I repeated, my voice breaking out of control. My heart thundered in my chest, each beat heavier than the last.

I turned to Vivaan, grabbed his collar in sheer panic and fury.

“CALL THE DAMN BEST DOCTORS, VIVAAN! I DON’T CARE WHERE THEY ARE JUST GET THEM HERE NOW!”

Everyone froze. The air went cold around us. No one had ever seen me like this not even close. But I didn’t care. My wife was lying unconscious behind those doors and I wasn’t going to lose her.

“IF ANYTHING HAPPENS TO HER—” I couldn’t finish. My voice cracked. My throat burned.

Vivaan immediately pulled out his phone, nodding, stammering, “I-I’m calling them right now, bhai…”

I turned away, fists clenched so tightly they shook.

God, please. Don’t take her from me.

The doctor emerged from the operation room, his face grim. He looked at all of us, but his eyes landed on me first. His expression was calm, but it did nothing to soothe the fire raging in me.

"We're doing everything we can," the doctor said, his voice steady but laced with concern. "But we need more time. She’s still in critical condition."

Before he could say anything more, I was on my feet, my hands balling into fists so tight my knuckles turned white. My vision was narrowing, everything around me fading except for the sound of my heart pounding in my ears. I could feel the anger, the fear raw, unfiltered pouring out of me.

"TIME?" I roared, my voice shaking the very walls around us. "YOU’RE TELLING ME YOU NEED MORE TIME? DO YOU EVEN UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU’RE SAYING? SHE’S MY WIFE, DOCTOR!"

The room fell silent, everyone frozen in place as my rage echoed. The doctor seemed unfazed, though I could see the flicker of fear in his eyes. Good. He should be scared. Because if anything happened to Arvi…

“I need answers! NOW!” I yelled, my voice thunderous, demanding, uncontrollable.

He swallowed hard before replying, "We are doing our best, Mr. Oberoi. Please, let us continue—"

“I DON'T WANT EXCUSES!” I snapped, cutting him off. “I WANT HER OUT OF THAT ROOM ALIVE. YOU GET ME THE BEST DOCTORS, OR YOU'LL ANSWER TO ME."

The doctor nodded quickly, backing away, leaving me standing there, still burning with fury. But no matter how much I screamed, no matter how much I demanded, all I could do was wait.

And it was killing me.

I paced the hospital corridor, unable to focus on anything except Arvi. My mind was a whirlwind of worry and guilt. Every step felt heavier, as if the weight of the situation was crushing me.

Vivaan’s call had shattered me. I should’ve been there for her. Why wasn’t I there when she needed me the most?

I couldn’t stand waiting. The endless ticking of the clock was driving me mad. Each second that passed felt like an eternity.

Finally, the door to the operation room opened. The doctor stepped out, his expression unreadable. I rushed toward him.

“Is she okay?” My voice came out more urgent than I intended.

“She’s stable now, but we need to talk,” the doctor replied, his tone calm but serious.

"Mr. Oberoi, we need to talk to you in private," he said, his tone low but urgent.

My heart skipped a beat. "What’s going on? Is she okay?" I demanded, already feeling the dread creeping up.

"Please," the doctor said, leading me to a quiet corner. "It’s about Arvi."

I could barely breathe as I followed him. Once we were alone, he looked at me with deep concern.

"Arvi's condition is stable, but we need to be honest with you. The trauma she’s experienced could have long-term effects," the doctor began, his words slowly sinking in.

I held my breath, waiting for more.

"Her ability to conceive in the future... could be compromised. We need time to assess the full extent of the damage."

The world around me seemed to stop. I could hear the doctor’s voice, but all I could think about was Arvi, lying there, unaware of everything.

The doctor’s words hit me like a ton of bricks, but I couldn’t let it show. I clenched my jaw, fighting the rage and panic rising within me.

"She’ll be alright, won’t she?" I asked, my voice colder than I intended, but the concern behind my words betrayed me.

The doctor hesitated before responding. "It’s too soon to say. Her condition is stable, but—"

I cut him off. "I don’t care about the future," I said firmly, my voice sharp, a tinge of fury bleeding through. "I don’t need a child. All I need is for my Arvi to be safe."

The doctor’s eyes softened, understanding the gravity of my words. "Of course, Mr. Oberoi. We’ll do everything we can to ensure her recovery."

I nodded curtly, my mind focused only on Arvi. The thought of her in pain, vulnerable it was more than I could bear.

The doctor gave a sympathetic nod. "You can visit her now, but we’re not out of the woods yet."

Without wasting another moment, I turned toward her room, my mind racing. I needed to be strong for her. I needed her to know I was here. Always.

As I stepped into the dimly lit hospital room, the world outside seemed to fade.

There she was my Arvi. Pale against the stark white of the hospital sheets, a mess of tubes and wires surrounding her fragile form. Her lips were dry, her forehead bandaged, and her eyes… shut.

My chest tightened. My footsteps faltered.

I had seen her laugh, cry, and smile never like this. Never this still.

I moved closer, slowly, afraid to even breathe too loudly. Pulling a chair beside her bed, I sat down, my hands trembling slightly as I reached out and touched hers.

Cold. Too cold.

“Arvi,” I whispered, my voice cracking for the first time in years, “I’m here. Wake up, jaan. I came… I’m here now.”

But she didn’t move.

And in that moment, I Rayaan Oberoi felt helpless for the first time in my life.

Authors Note:

While writing this chapter, I had Ve Kamleya and Tujhe Kitna Chahein Hum playing softly in the background. Every word I typed carried the weight of those melodies. I poured every bit of emotion I had into these lines so much so that I found myself crying as I wrote.

This chapter isn't just a part of the story it's a piece of my heart. Thank you for reading.

With love,

Imsal.

, her fingers trembling, but Vivaan stepped in, his voice firm but gentle. “I’ll do it.”

And with that, the decision was made. The family would call Rayaan. The man who should have been there from the start.