The morning light crept into Shantivan, but it did little to chase away the darkness that had settled between the newlyweds.

Khushi opened her eyes slowly, the soreness in her body a reminder of a sleepless night on the recliner. Her back ached, but the pain in her heart was far worse. She looked over at the bed—Arnav was already gone.

Khushi (softly to herself):

“Jab neend hi nahi aayi, toh jaagna kya?”

(When sleep never came, what's the point of waking up?)

She sat up and straightened her saree. Her sindoor smudged, her eyes puffy. And yet, she took a deep breath, wiped her tears, and prepared herself. The world would not see her break—not today.

-×-

Kitchen – Later That Morning

Khushi entered the kitchen, tying her dupatta around her waist. Nani, Anjali, and HP were already preparing breakfast.

Anjali: (beaming)

“Khushi ji! Aap toh ab ghar ki bahu hain. Aaj toh aapko pehla rasoi banana hi padega!”

(Khushi ji! You’re the daughter-in-law now. You must make your first meal today!)

Khushi froze. She hadn’t thought this far. But before she could respond—

Nani:

“Anjali bitiya, Chhoti Bahu thak gayi hogi. Kal shaadi bhi toh huyi thi.”

(Anjali dear, the new bride must be tired. They just got married yesterday.)

Khushi: (with a weak smile)

“Nahi, Nani ji. Main banaungi. Aap sab baith jaiye. Aaj halwa poori banegi.”

(No, Nani ji. I’ll make it. Please sit. Today I’ll make halwa and poori.)

Despite the ache in her heart, her hands moved with practiced ease. She poured her emotions into the food—anger, confusion, hurt, and… a longing for what could’ve been.

-×-

Dining Table – Minutes Later

The family gathered. Arnav entered last, his eyes momentarily locking with Khushi’s as he took his seat. Her eyes flickered with pain, but she quickly looked away.

Anjali: (tasting the halwa)

“Wah, Khushi ji! Yeh toh bahut hi badhiya bana hai!”

(Wow, Khushi ji! This is delicious!)

Nani:

“Hamesha kehti thi—Lucknow ki ladkiyaan swaad mein Lakshmi hoti hain.”

(Always said—girls from Lucknow are goddesses when it comes to taste.)

Arnav didn’t say a word. He ate silently. But his fingers gripped the spoon tighter than necessary.

Aakash (cheerfully):

“Bhai, aap kuch nahi bol rahe?”

(Bhai, you're not saying anything?)

Arnav: (without looking up)

“Khaane ka taste bolne se nahi… mehsoos karne se aata hai.”

(The taste of food isn’t in words... it’s in what you feel.)

Khushi looked at him, stunned. There was something in his tone—distant, almost thoughtful.

-×-

Later – Poolside

Khushi stood by the water, the breeze lifting strands of her hair. She stared at her reflection—blurred, unstable.

Khushi (to herself):

“Shaadi... us rishte ka naam hota hai jahan do log ek dusre ke dard ko samajhte hain. Par yeh... yeh toh ek sauda lagta hai.”

(Marriage is the name of a bond where two people understand each other’s pain. But this... this feels like a deal.)

Behind her, Arnav appeared silently. He stood for a moment, just watching her. Her sadness was palpable. For a second—just a second—his heart wavered.

Arnav:

“Main tumhara dard nahi samajh sakta, Khushi. Par mujhe bhi apna dard hai.”

(I can’t understand your pain, Khushi. But I have my own pain too.)

Khushi: (without turning around)

“Jhoot ke upar khade rishte kabhi khushiyan nahi laate, Arnav ji.”

(Relationships built on lies never bring happiness, Arnav ji.)

He walked away, the sound of his footsteps fading like the trust between them.

-×-

Meanwhile – In a dark corridor

Shyam watched the new bride from a distance, his gaze possessive.

Shyam (to himself):

“Khushi ji ab Raizada khandaan ki bahu hai... lekin meri honi ab bhi baaki hai.”

(Khushi ji may be the Raizada family’s daughter-in-law now... but she’s still meant to be mine.)

He smirked. The game was far from over.

-×-

To be continued...

Next: Chapter 3: Bharosa Tootne Ki Aahat

By

Muskan Tarway

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