𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐀𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐖𝐢𝐟𝐞 || @𝘼𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙙𝙧𝙖𝙛𝙩𝙨||

.Chapter-47. Regret

3400+ words

Tumhari aankhon ka jadoo kuch aisa hai,har pal tumhari yaadon mein kho jana hai,tumhare bina jeevan se koi bhi pyar nahi,tum hi ho mera asli junoon,mera asli pyar.

Author's pov:

Ashwin stood frozen in the hospital hallway, the echoes of Yuvan's maniacal laughter still rattling in his mind. His world had collapsed when the doctor had delivered the words that haunted him now: "She didn't make it." It felt like every breath was being pulled from his lungs. Everything he had fought for, everything he had hoped for—gone.

He couldn't remember much after that. The doctor's voice became distant, a murmur in the background as Ashwin's knees gave out and he sank into a chair. His hands trembled, still stained with Ashlyn's blood, the same hands that had been powerless to save her. He had held her in his arms, feeling the life slip away, and now... now she was gone.

They had taken her body, covered it with a white sheet, and wheeled her away, leaving Ashwin standing there in silence, too numb to cry, too broken to rage.

As the night deepened, Ashwin made his way back to the mansion, alone. The drive was a blur—silent, save for the sound of his own shallow breathing. His driver, sensing the weight of what had happened, didn't say a word, merely keeping his eyes on the road. The streets, usually so full of life, now felt distant and hollow, much like his heart. Every corner of the city seemed darker, every shadow more menacing, as if the world itself had shifted into something more cruel.

When they arrived at the mansion, the gates swung open slowly, revealing the grand structure ahead. But to Ashwin, it wasn't home anymore. Without her, it was nothing but a hollow, empty shell.

He stepped out of the car, his legs weak, his mind a fog of grief and disbelief. The heavy front doors creaked open, and the moment he crossed the threshold, the cold silence of the mansion enveloped him. The house, once filled with light and the warmth of shared laughter, was now a place of unbearable stillness.

As Ashwin stepped into the mansion, a wave of silence washed over the room. The soft murmur of voices that had filled the house before his arrival came to an abrupt halt. All eyes turned toward him, each face etched with concern, confusion, and fear. But the most piercing gaze came from Dadu, sitting in the corner, his frail body still bearing the marks of his recent captivity. His face was pale, his eyes sunken with exhaustion and worry, but the question in his eyes was unmistakable.

"Where is she?" Dadu's voice cracked, a tremor in his tone as he struggled to stand. His cane wobbled beneath him, and Viyaan rushed to his side, gently holding him upright. Dadi, standing not far from him, looked at Ashwin with wide, tear-filled eyes. "What happened, Ashwin? Where's Ashlyn?"

Ashwin's throat tightened, and his vision blurred as he stood there, unable to form the words. His jaw clenched, and his fists trembled at his sides. He had no answer—no explanation that could undo the nightmare that had unfolded. The room, once warm with family, now felt like a cold prison. Every pair of eyes bore into him, seeking answers he couldn't give.

Ashwin's parents, who had just returned from out of town, hurried forward. They had been away, unaware of the turmoil that had unraveled in their absence. His mother reached for him, her voice laced with panic. "Ashwin, where were you? What happened? Where's Ashlyn?"

His father stood a few steps behind, his usually stern face softened by worry. He said nothing at first, but the weight of his gaze was unbearable. Ashwin could feel his father's silent demand for an explanation.

And then Noha, Ashwin and Viyaan's sister, stormed forward, her face twisted in anger and grief. Without warning, she lashed out, punching Ashwin hard in the chest. "Where were you, Ashwin?!" she screamed, tears streaming down her face. "How could you let this happen?! She trusted you, and now—"