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मेरा दिल था मेरा हो गया आपका
साथ छूटेगा कैसे मेरा, आपका

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Richa sat hunched on the bed, her body trembling with each sob that racked through her. Her face was buried in her hands, her tears soaking into her palms as muffled cries escaped her lips. Around her, Siya, Ritika, Divya, and Kanak sat in a semi-circle, their expressions frozen in sheer helplessness.

No one knew what to do. No one knew what to say.

Siya and Divya exchanged nervous glances, while Kanak shifted uncomfortably, fidgeting with the hem of her kurti. Ritika, who usually had something to say in every situation, was staring at the ceiling, as if searching for divine intervention.

After a long, awkward silence, Ritika finally nudged Kanak. "Kanak, hum teeno ko console karna nahi aata. Tu jaa ke kar usse."

Kanak’s eyes widened in horror as she snapped her head toward Ritika."Mai jaaun?! Kyu? Mai kya Aya hoon iski jo chup karvaungi? And Mujhe bhi nahi aata, Di!" she whispered back, her tone betraying sheer panic.

"Yaar koi toh kuch bolo," Siya mumbled under her breath, watching Richa cry harder.

Arushi, who had been standing near the window, hesitated before stepping forward. She awkwardly patted Richa’s back, her movements stiff and unsure. "Richa, ro mat yaar, please," she said, her voice bordering on desperation.

Divya, trying her best to sound wise, added hesitantly, "Haan, sab thik ho jayega… ab jaane wale ko kaun rok sakta hai.."

She froze mid-sentence, her eyes widening as she realized what she had just blurted out.

Richa lifted her tear-streaked face slightly, confusion flickering in her puffy eyes. "Hein? Kaun jaane wala hai?" she sniffled.

Divya mentally slapped herself. "I mean… ab aane wale ladke… aane wale ko kaun rok sakta hai?" she hurriedly corrected, forcing an awkward grin.

Richa narrowed her eyes at her, sniffling again. "Mummy Papa aise kaise kar sakte hain yaar!" she suddenly wailed louder, fresh tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Yaar…" Siya started hesitantly, her voice laced with caution. "Maa-baap bacho ka acha hi sochte hain…"

Richa’s head snapped up. Her tearful eyes blazed with disbelief and betrayal. "WHATT!!" she screeched. "Tu unko support kar rahi hai? Tu chahti hai mai Akash ko chhod dun?"

Siya’s face paled. "Arre nahi, hamara wo matlab nahi tha!" she rushed to clarify, waving her hands frantically.

Kanak exhaled sharply, rubbing her forehead "Ab kya kar sakte hain…" she muttered, trying to sound rational but failing miserably. "Tu… tu chup to ho pehle, tabhi ham kuch idea sochenge."

Richa sniffled again, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. She looked at Kanak expectantly.

Ritika, who had been eerily silent for a while, suddenly straightened her posture and clapped her hands together. "Haan, mere paas ek idea hai tu chup ho jaa, phir batati hoon."

The room fell silent. Richa hiccupped slightly before sniffing and nodding. "Batao, Di," she croaked.

Ritika took a deep breath, as if mentally preparing herself. Then, with the utmost seriousness, she declared, "Tu Uncle-Aunty ko keh de ki tu Akash ke bache se pregnant hai."

There was a Silence…Dead…Absolute…Silence.

Siya coughed violently, clutching her throat as she tried to process what she had just heard. Divya’s mouth fell open in shock, her eyes nearly popping out of their sockets. Arushi smacked her own forehead, while Kanak seemed to momentarily forget how to breathe.

And Richa! Her jaw dropped as she gawked at Ritika in absolute horror.

"DIDI, WHAT THE HELL?!" she screeched so loudly that the entire house might have heard. "Mai ye sab kahun taki mujhe mummy-papa, aapke parents, Kanak ke parents, sabse taane mile?!"

"Kya Di, pagal ho kya?" Divya whispered in sheer disbelief, shaking her head vigorously.

Ritika, unfazed by their reactions, simply shrugged. "W…Kuch samajh hi nahi aa raha tha toh yahi dimag me aaya," she mumbled, looking slightly sheepish.

Richa groaned, burying her face in her hands once again, but this time, she wasn’t sure if she was crying over her parents’ decision or over Ritika’s ridiculous idea.

But, just as Richa wiped her eyes, the first hint of laughter seemed to escape from Siya's lips, who immediately clamped her hands over her mouth, clearly trying to suppress it.

"Behen, tu ro mat, hame hasi aa rahi hai," Siya confessed, her words muffled by her fingers, but the slight tremor in her voice betrayed her struggle to keep her composure.

Richa stared at her in disbelief, her eyes still red-rimmed and tearful. She shot a glare at Siya, but it was evident she was too emotionally drained to be truly angry.

"Bol de tu lesbian hai," Ritika continued, nodding as if it was the most dignified way to handle it.

Richa let out a dramatic sob, clutching the pillow tighter to her face. "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!" she cried, clearly overwhelmed.

Arushi, catching on to Siya’s vibe, added in her typically dramatic style, "Yaa, seriously, tu akeli nahi hai, ham bhi ro rahe hain andar se bas aansu nahi nikal rahe." She placed her hand dramatically over her heart, as though the weight of their collective emotional turmoil was too much to bear.

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Akash stepped into the hall after a long, exhausting meeting. He rolled his shoulders to ease the tension and let out a slow breath, only to be met with the sight of a bustling household. The air was thick with the aroma of freshly cooked food, the soft hum of conversations, and the hurried footsteps of family members rushing around in preparation.

His brows furrowed. What was going on?

Just then, Kirti spotted him. "Akash beta, ho gayi meeting?" she asked, walking up to him. Without waiting for his response, she continued, "Accha, jao kitchen mein, Tara bhabhi se keh do thoda jaldi karein... aate hi honge wo log.”

Akash frowned in confusion. "Kaun?"

"Richa ko dekhne ladke wale, aur kaun!" Kirti chuckled, completely oblivious to the way Akash's body tensed at her words. "Arre haan, jaake dekh ke aao Richa ready hui ya nahi. Itni der se ready ho rahi hai… abhi bas dekhne hi aa rahe hain, pata nahi kitna ready hona hai iske liye!" She sighed dramatically and walked off, leaving Akash standing frozen in place.

His throat went dry as reality crashed over him. Richa was getting ready… but for someone else.

Rubbing a hand over his face, he took a sharp breath and forced his legs to move. His steps were slower than usual as he climbed the stairs, his heart hammering against his ribs. He didn’t know why he was going, what he was even planning to say—he just knew that he had to see her.

When he reached her door, he knocked softly. A moment later, Siya opened it, her eyes widening slightly in surprise.

"Can I talk to her?" Akash asked, his voice steady despite the storm inside him. Siya studied him for a second before giving a small nod and stepping aside. The other girls in the room exchanged glances before quietly leaving, closing the door behind them.

Now, it was just the two of them.

Richa sat on the edge of the bed, dressed in a beautiful outfit, her hair delicately styled. But she wasn’t looking in the mirror, admiring herself.

Akash took slow, deliberate steps toward her, his presence commanding the space between them. Richa remained still, her fingers tightly clutching the fabric of her dress, as though grounding herself. But before she could react, he gently grasped her elbow, urging her to stand.

Her eyes lifted in surprise, but before she could say anything, he twirled her effortlessly. The sudden movement made her gasp, and before she could steady herself, she found herself colliding against his chest. The warmth of his body seeped through the fabric of their clothes, and the air between them grew heavy with tension.

"Akash..." she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper.

His dark eyes bore into hers, intense and unwavering. "What are they saying?" His voice was low, but it carried an unmistakable edge.

She opened her mouth to answer, but the words never came. His gaze flickered over her face, taking in every detail—the subtle makeup that Shreya had done, the way her hair had been neatly tied up. Something about it unsettled him. It wasn't her.

His hand moved instinctively behind her head, fingers slipping through the strands, and with a swift motion, he undid her hair. The locks cascaded down her shoulders like a waterfall, framing her face the way he had always loved.

"You can’t get ready for someone else." His whisper sent a shiver down her spine.

She barely had time to process his words before he reached out, fingers grazing her forehead. He removed the small bindi that adorned her skin, his touch lingering just a second longer than necessary. Her breath hitched, and her lashes fluttered shut.

His thumb trailed down, barely skimming the curve of her cheek before stopping at her lips. His touch was featherlight as he caressed them, wiping away the lipstick she had applied. Her lips parted involuntarily, her breath warm against his fingers.

"Why are you getting ready, Richa?" His voice wavered, and she could hear the raw emotion in it.

He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and when he spoke again, his words barely made it past the lump in his throat.

"Tum kya sach me... sach me shadi kar logi?"

A lone tear escaped his eye, tracing an agonizing path down his cheek. Richa’s heart clenched painfully at the sight. She didn’t think—she simply lifted her hand and gently wiped the tear away, her fingers lingering against his skin.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The weight of unspoken feelings hung between them like an invisible thread, fragile yet unbreakable.

Then, without a second thought, she moved closer, her lips grazing his softly. It was hesitant at first, almost as if she was afraid he would pull away. But when he didn’t, she pressed deeper, her hands clutching his shirt, grounding herself in the moment.

Akash froze, his breath hitching, but within seconds, his hands found their way to her waist, pulling her impossibly closer. The kiss was slow, tender—a silent confession of everything they had left unsaid.

Her fingers trailed up his chest, curling against the fabric, as his grip tightened around her, anchoring her to him. His lips moved over hers, savoring the moment, as if he was afraid it would slip away too soon. He tilted his head, deepening the kiss, pouring all his unsaid emotions into it—the fear of losing her, the longing, the undeniable love.

Richa sighed into the kiss, surrendering to the emotions she had buried for so long. Her hands slipped into his hair, her fingers tangling in the soft strands as she tilted her head slightly, giving him more access. Akash groaned softly against her lips, his hands moving up to cradle her face, his thumb brushing against her cheek in an achingly gentle caress.

They kissed like they had all the time in the world—like nothing else mattered.

When they finally pulled away, their foreheads rested against each other, breaths mingling, hearts pounding in sync.

Richa's eyes fluttered open, meeting his intense gaze. She didn’t need to say anything—her kiss had already answered his question.

Akash’s gaze burned into Richa’s, his hands still resting on her waist, as if letting go of her would make everything real—make the possibility of losing her a reality he wasn’t ready to face.

"I am not going to be someone else, Akash," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.

He exhaled sharply, his grip tightening just a little. "Then why are you getting ready?" His voice was edged with frustration, desperation even. He needed to hear her say it.

Richa swallowed hard and shook her head. "Mumma ne ready kiya tha… and trust me, Akash—" her eyes glistened with unshed tears as she cupped his face gently. "I will die before they tie me with someone else."

His heart clenched painfully at her words. Without a second thought, he leaned forward and pressed his forehead against hers, his breath warm against her skin.

"I won’t let you." His voice was a quiet promise, but there was an unmistakable fierceness in it. "Uske liye bhale hi sab mujhe pagal aashiq samjhein…"

A soft chuckle escaped Richa’s lips despite the weight of the moment. "That’s not even an exaggeration," she murmured, her fingers tracing slow circles on the back of his neck.

Akash smirked slightly but didn’t move away. "Doesn’t matter. Main pagal banne ke liye tayyar hoon agar tum meri ho."

She let out a shaky breath, her lips curling into a faint smile. "Just trust me… jao, bahar baitho. I’ll do something."

He looked at her skeptically, his jaw tightening. "Aur agar kuch nahi hua toh?"

She tilted her head slightly, her eyes locking with his in quiet determination. "Then I won’t hesitate before declaring that I am yours."

His breath hitched, his fingers unconsciously pressing against her waist as though memorizing the feel of her. She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, lingering just a second longer than necessary.

Akash closed his eyes at the contact, a slow smile tugging at his lips. Before he could say anything, she pulled back, and in the next moment, he felt her arms wrapping around him.

He let out a deep sigh as he hugged her back tightly, burying his face in her hair, inhaling her familiar scentthe only thing that could calm the storm inside him.

And in that embrace, he knew he would fight the whole world for her if he had to.

The hotel lobby exuded sophistication, with its grand chandeliers casting a warm glow over the polished marble floors. The air hummed with polite conversation, blending seamlessly with the soft instrumental music playing in the background. The family stood in anticipation as the guests arrived, their expressions carefully composed.

Shreya stepped forward to introduce the visitors. "Yeh hai Kartik," she said, gesturing towards the young man standing at the center. He was dressed neatly in a well-tailored suit, his posture relaxed yet confident. "Aur yeh unki mummy, Gayatri ji, aur papa, Shivam ji."

Kartik stepped forward, his demeanor pleasant and approachable. He extended his hand towards Arav with a courteous smile. "Acha toh aapki shaadi hai yahan… congratulations!" His tone was polite, though his eyes quickly scanned the room as if trying to gauge the family dynamics.

Arav accepted the handshake with a nod, his grip firm but his response short. "Thank you." His face remained neutral, offering no more than what was necessary.

"Chaliye, baithiye," Kirti said, her voice warm as she gestured towards the plush sofas arranged in the seating area. The guests settled down comfortably, exchanging pleasantries with the family as they adjusted to their surroundings.

Meanwhile, in a quieter corner of the lobby, Akash was growing increasingly restless. His fingers tapped rhythmically against his knee, his irritation barely concealed. He let out a frustrated sigh before muttering under his breath, "Richa itna kya time le rahi hai… serious hai kya iss bhante jaisi shakal wale ladke ke liye?" His voice carried a sharp edge of impatience, his gaze flickering toward the staircase as if willing her to appear.

Shashwat, catching his frustration, smirked. "Maybe," he teased, watching Akash’s expression darken in response.

Akash shot him a glare. "Stop it, Shashwat. Mujhe irritate mat kar," he snapped, shifting in his seat.

"Sahi toh keh raha hoon," Reyansh joined in, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Tere se zyada achi toh uski shakal hai."

Akash let out a scoff, rolling his eyes dramatically. "Aur tere se zyada achi kutte ki shakal hai… toh kya Aru ki usse shaadi karwa dein?" His comeback was swift, laced with mockery.

Shashwat chuckled at the response, shaking his head.

Akash turned to Shashwat instead. "Tu kya has raha hai? Tere se zyada achhi toh Kabir ki salary hai!" He crossed his arms, his smirk widening. "Jaa ke bolun Tara Aunty ko? Yaad dilaaun unhe?"

The moment the words left Akash’s mouth, Shashwat’s laughter abruptly died down. His face fell, and he shifted in his seat uncomfortably. "Tu na, Akash… bas, zyada mat bol," he grumbled, looking away while Reyansh let out a chuckle.

Akash smirked triumphantly, satisfied that he had successfully turned the tables. Yet, beneath all the banter, his impatience remained, his eyes darting back to the entrance, waiting, rather anxiously for Richa to make her appearance.

At that moment, Siya walked in, gracefully balancing a tray filled with an assortment of snacks. The soft clinking of ceramic plates and the light rustle of napkins accompanied her as she moved effortlessly towards the table. Dressed in a simple yet elegant outfit, she exuded warmth and charm, her every step poised and confident. With a bright smile, she placed the tray down carefully and joined her hands in a polite greeting.

"Namaste!" she said cheerfully, her voice carrying a welcoming lilt.

Kartik’s parents, Gayatri and Shivam, returned her greeting with polite smiles. "Namaste, beta!" they said, nodding in appreciation.

Kartik, however, responded differently. "Namaste," he murmured, but his voice lacked the warmth of his parents’. His eyes weren’t on Siya’s face. Instead, they trailed down her figure, scanning her from head to toe with an appreciative glint. His gaze lingered just a second too long, making it uncomfortably obvious that he wasn’t merely being polite.

Seated nearby, Shashwat had been casually observing the exchange, but the moment he caught the shift in Kartik’s expression, his entire body tensed. His relaxed posture vanished in an instant, his hands curling into tight fists on his lap. His blood boiled at the audacity of this man openly ogling at Siya, as if she were some object for his amusement. His sharp eyes locked onto Kartik, his jaw tightening with barely contained fury.

Siya, perceptive as ever, immediately sensed the uncomfortable stare prickling at her. A strange unease settled in her chest, and she glanced up instinctively, only to find Kartik staring at her with an amused expression. He smirked slightly and raised his eyebrows, as if issuing some unspoken challenge—one that dripped with arrogance and entitlement.

Siya clenched her teeth, irritation bubbling inside her, but she knew better than to react in a way that would cause unnecessary drama. Instead, she channeled her annoyance into something more subtle yet equally effective. Flashing her two front teeth exaggeratedly, she gave him a mockingly bright smile—a clear, wordless message: Tu bhi dekh le, jee bhar ke.

Her expression held nothing but playful disdain, making it clear she was neither impressed nor affected. Without granting him another second of her attention, she turned on her heel and walked away, her head held high.

Shashwat’s eyes flickered to Siya as she left,