A R V I

The car hummed quietly beneath us, a gentle lullaby of the road that did nothing to calm the chaos unraveling inside me. I sat still, my fingers nervously knotted in my lap as I stared ahead, the city slowly crawling into view. Rayaan was next to me, Vanisha curled into his arms like she belonged there and yes she did. Her head rested on his chest, her little fingers hold his shirt like a lifeline.

I couldn’t take my eyes off them.

He looked so complete with her.

I, on the other hand, felt like a house with its lights flickering ready to collapse if someone so much as breathed too hard.

Mumbai was getting closer.

And so were the memories.

The pain. The betrayal. The mansion that had once felt like home and had then turned into a battlefield. I swallowed hard, my pulse picking up speed. I wanted to ask him to turn the car around. To run away. Again. But Vanisha stirred then, stretching in his arms and looking up at him with the kind of awe only a child could give.

“Dad,” she gasped, her eyes lighting up as the car slowed in front of the penthouse building, “we have such a big house?”

Rayaan smiled, warmth glowing in his features. “Yes, my princess.”

Her little jaw dropped. “I want a house this big just for myself too!”

He chuckled softly, nodding. “Okay, princess. I’ll make one just for you.”

I couldn’t help it I turned to her and said sharply, “Vanisha, stay quiet for a bit ”

But Rayaan’s voice was calm, firm. “Bacha, don’t say anything to her, please.”

I flinched. Not because he was harsh, but because he wasn’t. His tone was soft, protective. And somehow, that shook me more than anger ever could.

The car door opened, and we stepped out.

My legs felt like they’d forgotten how to walk. But I moved, one foot in front of the other, the weight of what will happen, When the elevator dinged, Rayaan held Vanisha with one arm and reached for my hand with the other.

I didn’t take it.

Instead, I clutched his bicep like a drowning woman grabs a raft. My nails digging in slightly, grounding myself with his presence.

He didn’t flinch. Just gave me a small glance. Understanding.

And then the doos opened.

I blinked once. Twice.

They were all there.

His mother. Bade Papa. Choti maa.Chote Papa. Aleesha. Riaan. Nia. Vivaan. Arekha. Standing in the foyer, as if frozen in time, waiting for us. Waiting for me.

My breath caught.

I didn’t expect this.

I wasn’t ready for this.

Every nerve in my body lit up, my legs going weak. I held onto Rayaan tighter, the world tilting for a second.

He stepped forward, jaw tight. “Why are you all here?”

His mother the same woman who had once asked me to leave, her face a mask of cold rage back then stepped forward first. Her eyes were red rimmed, wet. She looked at me as if she’d forgotten how to breathe too.

“We already lost one daughter,” she said, voice cracking, “we can’t afford to lose another.”

And with that, she broke.

She rushed toward me, her arms open, tears falling freely as she pulled me into a hug.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered over and over again, like a prayer. “I’m so sorry, beta. For everything. For not seeing the truth. For not standing by you. For sending you away.”

I didn’t know what to do. My arms stayed by my side for a moment, frozen. But slowly… slowly… they rose, and I hugged her back.

The dam broke inside me.

I stood frozen, barely breathing, when I saw it.

One by one

They all dropped to their knees.

Maa. Choti Maa. Bade Papa. Chote Papa. Aleesha. Arekha. Even Vivaan. Even Riaan and Nia.

Holding their ears.

Saying it.

Over and over again.

“Sorry, Arvi.”

“Forgive us.”

“We wronged you. Please…”

I couldn’t move. Couldn’t blink. My mind couldn’t process what I was seeing this family that once shattered me now kneeling, apologizing, begging for forgiveness.

Something cracked inside me. Years of hurt, betrayal, abandonment… and now this overwhelming flood of repentance.

I didn’t know if I was supposed to cry or scream or run.

But all I could do was stand there

Watching.

Shocked.

Still holding Rayaan’s arm like it was the only thing keeping me upright.

Their words echoed in my head, but everything felt like a blur like the ground beneath me wasn’t real. My heart was pounding so hard, it felt like my ribs might crack open.

I stumbled a step forward, my voice trembling.

“Please…” I whispered, my throat closing up, “Please stand up…”

None of them moved.

I tried again, louder this time, my voice cracking with emotion.

“Please. Stand up… please…”

And then it happened.

Something inside me just shattered.

Tears rushed to my eyes, and before I could stop them, they spilled over hot, heavy, years of pain rushing out all at once.

I broke.

My body shook as sobs escaped my chest, and all the strength I had been carrying for years just… collapsed.

I dropped to my knees too but not out of guilt or apology.

Out of sheer pain.

And I reached out.

Wrapped my arms around her.

Maa.

The woman I had looked up to. Feared. Resented. Missed. Loved.

I hugged her like a child who had been lost in a storm for far too long and finally found her way home.

She hugged me back just as tightly, her hands cradling my head like I was her daughter again.

We both cried.

No words.

No explanations.

Just the kind of embrace that speaks everything that words can’t.

And in that moment… maybe something began to heal.

As Maa held me, rocking me like I was a child again, I felt another pair of arms wrap around me. Gentle. Familiar.

“Arvi beta…” Choti Maa’s voice broke as she pulled me into her embrace, and Chote Papa joined her, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “We failed you.”

Before I could respond, Bade Papa came forward, slower than the rest. His eyes were red, his hands trembling slightly as he knelt and pulled me into a warm, solid hug.

“I was too blinded, Arvi,” he said softly. “Forgive me. Forgive this father who couldn’t protect his daughter when it mattered.”

Tears spilled from my eyes again, fresh and relentless, as I held him tightly. For a moment, I let myself be a daughter, a broken one maybe, but one who had longed for this warmth, this family.

And then I felt someone grip my hand.

I turned.

Vivaan.

His eyes were glassy, lips trembling. He looked nothing like the boy who once teased me endlessly. Nothing like the brother who had adored me with mischief in his smile. He looked haunted.

“I’m sorry…” he whispered. “I don’t deserve forgiveness.”

Before I could say anything, he raised his other hand

And slapped himself.

Hard.

“Vivaan!” I gasped, grabbing his wrist. “Stop it what are you doing?!”

He didn’t stop. Another slap.

“I should’ve spoken up! I should’ve stoped you, I should’ve stood with you”

“Vivaan, please” I said, holding his face now, forcing him to look at me. “Dont hurt yourself.”

He broke into a sob, falling to his knees, wrapping his arms around me. “I’m so ashamed, Arvi… please forgive me.”

And then

“Arvi…”

“Stand up Vivaan.”

I turned at the sound of her voice.

Nia.

She stood there, teary-eyed, lips quivering. And something inside me snapped the second I saw her. All the emotions, the chaos, the ache I walked up to her without thinking.

And I slapped her.

Hard.

She gasped, clutching her cheek. Silence fell like a sheet of ice.

“Why didn’t you stop me?!” I screamed through tears. “Why didn’t you hold me back that day? You were the only one who knew me, why didn’t you fight for me?!”

Nia’s eyes spilled over, and she whispered, brokenly, “I tried. I ran after you, Arvi… I swear I did…”

Vivaan’s voice cut in from behind me, guilty and raw. “She did… I stopped her. I told her to let you go… I didn’t know it would take you from us forever…”

I stared at them both my heart bursting with grief, anger, forgiveness, love all twisted into one unbearable knot.

And then

I pulled Nia into a tight hug.

I clung to her, burying my face in her neck, sobbing. “You were supposed to hold me back… I was so scared…”

She held me tighter. “I’m sorry. I’ll never leave your side again. Never.”

And I believed her.

In that moment messy, broken, soaked in tears I believed them all.

Maybe healing wasn’t loud. Maybe it was this. Chaos. Cries. And arms that still reached for you even after everything.

Maybe this was how home began. Again.

Aleesha Riaan reaching me “Forgive us too, You already screamed at us, now forgive us.”

I hugged them and then Arekha came hugging me kissing my cheeks.

In the middle of all the crying, hugging, and apologies, a tiny voice cut through the noise like a bell.

“Why are you all making my Mumma cry?”

I froze.

My baby.

I turned and saw her standing there, arms crossed, pout firmly in place, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and concern. My heart clenched at the sight of her.

Maa let out a soft gasp and knelt in front of her. “Oh my god… meri bachi…”

Before Vanisha could react, Chote Papa, Bade Papa, and Choti Maa all surrounded her with teary smiles. Aleesha and Arekha Nia Vivaan Riaan were right behind, showering her with affection like they'd been waiting for this day forever.

“Meri gudiya,” Choti Maa said, stroking her cheek.

“You’re just like your Mumma,” Aleesha cooed.

“Such big eyes” Arekha grinned. “And look at that attitude!”

Vanisha blinked, looking more and more lost with every passing second. She took a step back, her tiny hands raised in confusion.

“Stop! You all are being weird!” she said. “Introduce yourselves! I don’t know who any of you are!”

Everyone laughed through tears, sniffles, and choked giggles. I couldn’t help it either. The pure honesty in her little outburst cut through the heavy air like sunlight.

And then she turned with a huff and ran toward him.

To her safe space.

To Rayaan.

“Dad! See?! They’re laughing at me!”

Rayaan, who had been silent all this while, stepped forward. His eyes met mine for the briefest second, something unreadable in them, then softened as Vanisha threw her arms around his leg.

He scooped her up easily.

“They’re not laughing at you, my princess,” he said, brushing her hair back. “They’re just happy. Because you, you brought Mumma back to them.”

I covered my mouth as fresh tears spilled again. But this time, it wasn’t grief.

It was love.

Painful. Healing. Real.

Because for the first time in years

It felt like family again.

Vivaan lifted Vanisha gently in his arms, a proud, trembling smile on his face.

“Champ,” he said softly, looking into her curious eyes, “do you know who I am?”

Vanisha tilted her head. “Umm… no?”

He chuckled, eyes glassy. “I’m your Chachu.”

Her mouth formed a perfect little ‘O’. “You’re my Chachu!”

He nodded. “Yes. And she,” he said, pointing to Nia who had just wiped her tears, “she’s your Chachi, my wife.”

Vanisha looked at Nia with wide eyes. “You’re very pretty.”

Nia burst into a soft laugh through her tears. “So are you, baby.”

Vivaan turned her gently to face the rest of the family. “And now let me introduce you to everyone.”

He took a step toward Maa. “This is your Dadi.”

Then to Bade Papa, whose eyes were already misty. “And this is your Dadu.”

Vanisha waved politely. “Hello.”

Vivaan moved next to Choti Maa. “This is your Choti Dadi.”

“And I’m your Chote Dadu,” Chote Papa added with a teary smile.

Vanisha looked between them, blinking. “So many grandparents!”

Everyone laughed, and I felt the heaviness inside me lift just a little.

Vivaan walked her over to Aleesha. “This is your Bua, Aleesha Bua.”

Aleesha gave her a dramatic bow and Vanisha giggled.

“And this,” he pointed to Arekha, “is your Arekha Bua.”

“Hiii!” Vanisha chirped, waving her tiny hand.

And now Vivaan goes towards Riaan and said “forget him” &  Riaan glared him he said “ My princess I'm your chachu too, your grumpy fathers unfortunately Best friend and your aleesha bua's husband.”

Vanisha laughed and said “ You are all so funny.”

Vivaan set her down and crouched beside her. “Now you tell them your name, princess.”

Vanisha looked at everyone, a little shy, a little proud.

“My name is Vanisha.”

The name dropped like a whisper in the room, echoing through every heart.

Maa broke first. She rushed forward and hugged me tightly, tears soaking my shoulder.

“Thank you…” she whispered. “Thank you for giving us our little Vanisha, you completed my broken family again.”

And just like that my daughter, my reason to live, had become their reason to heal.