Over the next few weeks, Armaan and Aryamaan's friendship blossomed. Every Sunday, they would meet up for ice cream, followed by a trip to the park, a movie, or a walk along the beach.
They would laugh and play, their bond growing stronger with each passing moment. They even developed little rituals, like Armaan ruffling Aryamaan's hair and Aryamaan calling Armaan "uncle" as a joke.
Ishani, noticing her son's happiness, couldn't help but smile by seeing that her son has got some good friend.
As the summer days turned into fall, Armaan found himself growing ever more attached to Aryamaan. He started bringing him gifts - a toy car, a book, even a small tree sapling.
"What's that for?" Aryamaan would ask, his eyes wide with wonder.
"It's a surprise," Armaan would reply, a warm smile playing on his lips.
Aryamaan, oblivious to the truth, would grin, his face beaming with happiness.
It was a warm, summer evening, the sun beginning to set in the distance. Ishani had expected her son to be home by now, but when the clock struck eight, she began to worry. She called his name, but there was no reply. Her heart pounding, Ishani grabbed her keys and rushed out the door.
She headed towards the nearest park, her mind racing with all the worst-case scenarios. When she reached the park, Ishani shouted out her son's name, calling out to him, panic rising in her voice."Aryamaan! Aryamaan, where are you?" Ishani cried, her voice carrying across the park.
Armaan, who had been playing catch with Aryamaan, felt his heart leap into his throat. He turned to see Ishani running towards them, fear and relief etched on her face.
"Mommy, I'm here!" Aryamaan shouted, waving his hand in the air.
Ishani's eyes fell on Armaan, who stood frozen in place, a look of stunned recognition on his face.
Armaan stared at Ishani in stunned silence, his mind racing as he tried to come to terms with what was happening. Ishani, his Ishani, was standing before him, looking as beautiful and strong as ever. And the child with her, the child calling her "mom"... It couldn't be.
Ishani's eyes, filled with a mix of confusion, anger, and recognition, met Armaan's. "What are you doing here?" she demanded, her voice tight.
Armaan struggled to find the words to explain, his mind reeling.
Armaan took a shaky breath, his heart pounding. He couldn't keep the thoughts from racing through his mind, the possibilities churning like a cyclone.
Armaan finally managed to choke out, his voice raw with emotion. "Who is his father?"
Ishani's eyes narrowed, her jaw clenching. "Why does it matter to you?" she snapped.
"Is it... Ravi Chopra?" Armaan asked again, his voice shaking slightly. "Is he... the father?"
Ishani's expression grew cold, her body stiffening.
Ishani's fury was palpable, her words like daggers in Armaan's heart. "How dare you question my character?" she hissed. "You abandoned me, Armaan. You turned your back on me and disappeared into the night. And now you have the audacity to ask me who my son's father is?"
Armaan's breath caught in his throat, his mind spinning with the implications of Ishani's words. "I... I didn't..." he stammered, his voice weak and unsure.
Ishani's eyes blazed with an anger that had been simmering for years. "You had no right to walk away from me, Armaan," she spat. "You had no right to leave me to raise our son alone."
Armaan's heart stopped in his chest, his mind reeling. "Our son?" he whispered, the words echoing in his head. "Ishani, what are you saying?"
Ishani took a step towards him, her voice low and dangerous. "You were always so arrogant, so sure of yourself, Armaan, you never paid heed to my words even for once."
Ishani's face darkened, her eyes flashing with fury. "Wasn't I ever good enough for you, Armaan?" she hissed. "Didn't we share moments that were supposed to create a our son? Did our love mean nothing?"
Armaan staggered back, her words hitting him like a punch to the gut. "I... I didn't... Ishani, I never meant to hurt you."
"Well, you did!" Ishani shouted, her voice laced with pain and frustration. "You made me doubt everything."And then you left!" Ishani continued, her voice rising in volume. "You left me to pick up the pieces. You left me alone to raise our son."
Armaan's heart ached, his mind racing with the implications of her words.
Ishani's voice shook with emotion as she continued to rail at Armaan. "You never trusted me even a bit, you never realised how much I would have been hurt, you never asked me about the explanation... But you believed in a stupid stranger Ravi rather than believing your wife..
And then you asked your wife to leave you forever....Mr. Oberoi for once also you didn't think that how I could survive alone that too when I could be pregnant."
Armaan felt as though he was drowning, his past mistakes weighing him down. "I... I never meant to be.... distrust you, Ishani. I just... I didn't know."
"You didn't know?" Ishani repeated, her voice dripping with sarcasm.Ishani's face contorted with pain. "You didn't know what?" she demanded. "You didn't know that your actions had consequences? You didn't know that your decisions could hurt the people who loved you?"
Armaan looked away, ashamed of his past self. "I know I made mistakes, Ishani. I know I hurt you. But... but I want to make it right. I want to be there for Aryamaan."
Ishani's face hardened, her eyes narrowing. "You want to be there for him now? After five years?"
Ishani's voice rose to a shout, her face flushed with anger. "Where were you when Aryamaan had his first day of school? Where were you when he fell off his bike and scraped his knee? Where were you when he had nightmares and needed someone to hold him?"
Armaan hung his head, unable to meet Ishani's accusatory gaze. "I was... I was..., Ishani. I was a fool to believe that stupid Ravi Chopra instead of my Ishani.""I'm sorry Ishani... Please forgive me , please.... I know I don't have any right to ask for your forgiveness but please forgive our son..."
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𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑯𝒚𝒎𝒏 𝒕𝒐 𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒚
RomanceThe "𝙃𝙮𝙢𝙣 𝙩𝙤 𝘿𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙮" is a story that reflects on the role of destiny in shaping our lives. The story portrays destiny as a fickle but powerful force, weaving a tapestry of experiences that define who we are and what we become. In the c...