" Teri Qismat ka likha koi tujhse koi nahi le sakta.
Agar bharosa hai rab par toh tujhe woh bhi mil jaayega joh tera ho na sakta"
When destiny decides to rewrite the lives of Karan and Tejasswi, it was already very late. Both of them had their...
A/n:- Don't forget to hit the star on the right and drop your remark! Thank you for reading. Extremely long chapter ahead. I haven't proofread for mistakes. I wasn't in the right mind while writing this too, so tell me if anything is not right. Word count- 4700+
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--⋆Say what yo mean but don't say it mean ⋆--
Karan sat with a thud entering his room. He kicked off his shoes and walked to his closet. He opened only to realize a huge vacant space in it. The vacant space when Sitaara's belongings were removed. It hurt him always not seeing her neatly arranged and stacked saree against his clothes. He was getting used to the vacancy. And in time he had even pushed his clothes to her side so he doesn't have to see and cry about it everyday.
But what he didn't realize was, in the morning when Tejasswi had decided to stuff some of her clothes since her bags can't hold much, his closet was complete. As stupid it mind sound, he had a strange warmth seeing it. It made him cringe at the thought. But somewhere he felt normal and not like a broken widower, like everyone used to see him as.
But it hurt again to see the void. He sighed, slamming the door after picking up his nightwear. He strode into the bathroom to realize there were a lot of things he saw in the morning but nothing of it was there anymore.
Purple toothbrush. Body Wash gel. Shampoo with Chinese scriptures. Moisturizer.
He quickly got out looking around for her bag. It was missing also. Suddenly he felt robbed and exhausted. Slipping into his slippers he sprinted to Syra's room. He opened the door with a bang making Syra shriek.
Syr looked at him bewildered with her hands up in the air and chest heaving. A dress, much bigger than her size, pooled at her feet. His eyes shifted to Tejasswi who had her one knee pressed into the mattress and her hands folding her clothes from her bag.
Their eyes met and he tried to look at her softly when she rolled her eyes, lips tucked in, eyebrows creased in anger. He was baffled. Tejasswi ran a hand down Syra's back, calming her down. Syra smiled back. She looked back at her father and she was going to launch herself at him when Tejasswi pulled her back.
"He hasn't taken a bath yet," she told her. Syra sighed sadly.
"And what's wrong with that?" Karan asked, offended.
Who was she to stop his daughter from hugging him?
"Papa, she is right. You should see the news often. Covid cases have increased," Syra climbed over the table and advised him like a parent to a kid. She face-palmed, shaking her head in disbelief. Karan smiled at it.
"See new mommy put a poster I made on the wall too," she jumped from there running to the opposite end to show him her creativity. Karan's eyes flicked at Tejasswi. She kept mumbling something as she folded the rest of the clothes.
"Wow, my princess is an artist, huh?" He scrunched to her level.
"New mommy said she will get me an artbook tomorrow," Syra clasped her hands and grinned widely. Karan couldn't stop looking at Tejasswi every time Syra said "new mommy". It kind of made him feel warm. From the edge of his eye he could see a glint of a smile, of satisfaction on her face. She was then comfortably seated on the bed.
