Helu helu, what's up? Kaise hain aap sab?🕯️ Thank you for turning the page.

Every chapter is a whisper of something lost, or something found.

Aarohi’s story is not just about love.

It’s about remembering who you are after you’ve been broken.

So let's begin without further ado

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The Rathore house was filled with light.

Vaulted ceilings opened to the sun. Chandeliers bathed the marble floors in crystal reflections. Airy curtains floated like silk ghosts in every room. The walls echoed with laughter and conversations — cousins, uncles, aunts — a constant hum of togetherness.

And yet, Aarohi had never felt a place so dim.

She moved through it like a shadow dressed in silk, wrapped in expectation and silence. Her smile was threaded neatly into place each morning — precise, practiced, pleasant. No one saw the girl underneath. No one noticed how her fingers curled too tightly around her sari pallu. Or how her eyes never really crinkled when she smiled.

It had been three days since the wedding.

Three days since the night her body forgot how to belong to her.

Three days of walking on shards — invisible, sharp, constant.

Three days of silence from the man who had taken everything and left nothing behind.

Prithvi hadn’t returned to their bedroom since. He slept in his office now, or so the whispers claimed. But his absence didn’t bring relief. It brought a different kind of ache — a quiet dread, like waiting for a storm to crash through a fragile roof. He was gone, but not really. His presence hung in the air like a storm cloud. Always threatening.

Dadi called for her usual mid-morning tea in the central lounge — an unspoken ritual draped in family obligation.

“We must sit together,” she always said, pouring chai with a generous hand and a proud heart. “We’re a family.”

Aarohi sat beside her, spine straight, posture perfect. The pleats of her saree were flawless. Her expression — warm, measured. She held her cup delicately, fingers trembling ever so slightly under the weight of pretense.

(Veer’s POV)

The Rathore house had always been loud.

Voices overlapped. Laughter spilled into hallways like perfume. Teacups clinked against saucers, and egos tiptoed around chandeliers. But today — Veer heard something else.

Silence.

Not the kind that rested.

The kind that held its breath.

It came from the woman sitting beside Dadi. The new bride. Aarohi.

She sat with perfect grace. Spine straight, smile soft, eyes lowered just enough. Not too much — just the right amount to be polite. Her saree was flawless, the red a little too bright for someone who hadn’t slept in days. Her hands didn’t tremble. But Veer had learned how to read the stillness between people.

Something was off. Something had been off since the wedding.

Since the night Prithvi had walked out of his own bedroom and not returned.

Everyone thought Aarohi was quiet because she was adjusting.

Veer wasn’t sure.

He’d seen her once in college — years ago — presenting at a youth journalism fest. She had spoken with fire then. Not loud, but certain. Brave in a way that didn’t need volume.

The girl beside Dadi now… was not that girl.

And Prithvi — Veer didn’t know what his brother had done, but he knew the way Aarohi’s fingers curled a second too tightly around her cup. Knew what it meant when someone flinched before they even heard a harsh word.

He hated guessing. But he’d grown up watching silences in this house stretch like shadows across polished walls.

Prithvi entered a few minutes late, shirt still slightly unbuttoned, phone glued to his palm. He barely looked at her. Just sat beside Dadi and muttered something about meetings and calls. But Aarohi felt his gaze like a chill. Heavy. Watchful. Not affection. Not even anger.

Control.

Veer was already lounging in one of the armchairs — sleeves rolled up, newspaper folded in his lap. He glanced up as she entered, and their eyes met for a second.

He smiled. Soft. Real. Not the kind that demanded anything.

A smile that didn’t perform.

A smile that said, I see you.

She almost smiled back. Almost.

“Aarohi beta,” Dadi beamed, oblivious to the quiet currents, “you’ve brought such calm to this house. Even Veer’s waking up early these days!”

Veer scoffed lightly, glancing over the rim of his teacup. “Don’t get her hopes up, Dadi. I’m still very committed to being a night owl.”

“Our Aarohi will fix that,” Dadi teased, nudging Aarohi’s arm.

Aarohi smiled on cue, lips curved just enough. The cup hid her clenched fingers.

Then, Prithvi’s voice slid into the space like ice water.

“You seem to be settling in well, huh?”

The words weren’t harsh, but the undercurrent was. The way he said you — as if accusing her of something.

Aarohi blinked, caught off guard. “Ji…?”

“You laugh at his jokes now?”

The room faltered — just a fraction of a second. A beat skipped. Even Dadi’s hand paused mid-air.

“I was just—” she began, voice barely above a breath.

“She was laughing at your expense, bhai,” Veer interrupted casually, lips tilted in a grin, eyes fixed on his brother. “Don’t worry. I’m still the family clown.”

His tone was light. But the steel beneath it was unmistakable.

Prithvi didn’t reply. Just lifted his cup and took a long, slow sip. His eyes didn’t return to her.

Aarohi placed her cup gently on the table. Her hands were damp. The heat of the tea had nothing to do with it.

Later That Afternoon

She stood in the hallway by the large bookshelf, pretending to read.

The book in her hand was upside down.

She didn’t even notice.

“You’re holding it backwards.”

She turned quickly.

Veer.

He stood a few feet away, holding a tray with a small bowl of fruit and a thermos. His presence didn’t startle her the way others did. It came with no sharpness. No expectations.

“Thought you might be skipping lunch again.”

“I wasn’t hungry,” she said, quietly.

He shrugged. “Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t eat.”

She hesitated, then reached out and took the tray with a soft, reflexive “Thank you.”

There was a pause — not awkward, just full.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” Veer said. “Prithvi… he’s always been possessive. Don’t take it personally.”

Her hand froze around the fork.

Possessive.

That’s what they called it.

They didn’t know.

No one did.

Except her ribs. Her shoulders. Her soul.

She gave a slow nod, throat tightening. “It’s okay.”

He looked at her for a moment — really looked. Something flickered in his gaze. Not pity. Not curiosity. Just quiet understanding. But he didn’t pry. He didn’t push.

He reached past her and plucked a book from the shelf. Held it out to her.

“This one’s better. Lighter. Funny. Doesn’t talk about love or pain. Just… life.”

Aarohi took it from him. The cover was soft to touch. Familiar somehow.

“Thanks,” she whispered, voice so low it barely carried.

He smiled, stepping back. “Anytime, Aarohi.”

Then he walked away, slow and easy. No drama. No declarations.

Just kindness.

Like a breeze through a room that had forgotten how to breathe.

She looked down at the book in her hands.

It wasn’t heavy.

It didn’t hurt.

It simply… existed. Like something normal. Something untouched by what

hee life had become.

And in that moment, for the first time in three days,

Aarohi didn’t feel like she was drowning.

She didn’t smile for the world.

But for a second, she almost smiled for herself.

And sometimes, that’s how healing begins —

Not with noise. Not with rebellion.

But with a book. A quiet moment. A boy who noticed.

💭 Let’s Talk –

🌧️ What do you think Veer really sees when he looks at Aarohi?

🧩 Do you believe Aarohi will find the pieces of herself again — or will this house erase them?

🥀 Was Prithvi’s silence more dangerous than his words?

🕯️ Have you ever had someone notice your silence the way Veer did for her?

📚 What book would you hand to someone going through what Aarohi is feeling?

> 💬 Drop your answers in the comments — I love reading your thoughts, theories, and emotions.

💛 Bookmark and stay with Aarohi as she learns that even in golden cages… cracks can grow.

❄️ DO Follow me here and on instagram for latest updates on the upcoming chapters and maybe new books

Thank you for reading. 🤍

See you in the next chapter — where silences speak louder than words… and kindness begins to challenge control.