DREAMY TALES

Arylie || Entangled feeling ||

Aryan and Imlie are dealing with their unnamed internal feelings after the whole brothel fiasco. Malini is thrown out of the Tripathi house, and the Tripathis are hell-bent on winning Imlie back.

Wednesday, 7:12 PM, at Tripathi Niwas

Imlie sat under the shade of the familiar old tree at Tripathi Niwas, her mind swirling with a mix of nostalgia and turmoil. In front of her was Aditya, his face a mosaic of regret and longing. Beside her sat Aryan, steadfast as ever, his presence is a pillar of strength.

"Im... Imlie, I think Mr. Tripathi and you have some things that need to be sorted out. I... I should leave," Aryan's voice faltered, a rare crack in his usual composed demeanor.

What's wrong with you, Aryan?
He chastised himself internally.
Why does your voice break? Why do you feel this way?

Jisse zindagi dhoond rahi hai,
kya yeh woh makaam mera hai

Aryan waited, hoping Imlie would say something, anything, to break the heavy silence. But she remained still, her gaze fixed on the Tripathi house. The pang in his heart grew sharper, a sensation he struggled to understand. He turned away, donning his aviators, and began walking toward his sleek, black car.

Why does her silence cut so deep?
Why does it hurt when she chooses to sit with Aditya?
Why does it sting when she doesn't look at me with that radiant charm and sparkle in her eyes? Why?

As he reached his car, he felt a small, familiar hand slip into his. He didn't need to look to know it was Imlie. "Ghar chalein, ABP?" she asked softly, her voice a soothing balm to his troubled thoughts.

Despite his efforts, a small smile broke at the corner of his lips. A warm, comforting peace washed over him, a stark contrast to the turmoil he felt moments ago.

"What about Tripathi Niwas?" Aryan asked, trying to maintain his composure.

"They have Maa, Papa, Badke Kaka, Nishant Bhaiya, and now even ba..Mr. Tripathi too. Humhara kaam malini didi ka sach sabke samne laane ka tha, ehh pariwar par se ukke naam kii kali patti hatayi ka tha. Jo kii ab pura ho gaya ha, gharr chale, kaki maa aur didi pareshan ho rahe honge," Imlie replied, her eyes shining with determination and her face glowing with a renewed sense of purpose.

Is she reading my mind?
Aryan wondered, surprised at how well she understood his unspoken thoughts.
Just like I do with her. This could be dangerous, Aryan.

Imlie noticed her hands were muddy and tried to pull away. "My hands are dirty, ABP. Your hand will get dirty too."

But Aryan didn't respond. Instead, he tightened his grip on her hand, letting the mud soil his palm. After all, they are 50-50 partners.

"Today, your Mrs. is g—" Imlie began, but Aryan interrupted her. He opened the driver's door and tossed the keys to her. She caught them effortlessly with one hand, a testament to the growing bond between them. He settled into the passenger seat, a gesture laden with unspoken trust.

He never let anyone drive his car, a precious gift from his brother-in-law, his Jiju.
But Imlie was an exception.
She always had been.

---
Yahan chain se bas ruk jaun
Kyun dil yeh mujhe khehta hai

She had poured her heart and soul into this family, enduring countless hardships and sacrifices, but what had she received in return? Only ungrateful ignorance and dismissal.

In stark contrast were the Rathores. Despite having known them for only four months, they had embraced her wholeheartedly, integrating her into their lives with unconditional acceptance and love.