'Ishan Oberoi' - The name that echoes success, power, and resilience. A rising billionaire who carved his empire with his own hands, refusing to ride on his father's wealth. Yet, he never turned his back on his responsibilities as a son. Balancing h...
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ISHAN'S POV :
Saying that seeing Aadhriti in that condition shattered me would be an understatement.
She remained unconscious for three hours after the anaesthesia. And every second of those hours felt like a slow, relentless form of torture-like time itself was punishing me.
It was as if someone was stretching every fibre of my heart, pulling it apart thread by thread, only to sew it back together with a needle that pierced deeper each time.
I needed answers. Desperately. But the worst part was-no one had them. No one except Aadhriti. And she wasn't in a condition to give me any.
Still, after what felt like an eternity, her eyelids fluttered open. Her voice-weak, broken, barely a whisper-spoke one name, "Sh-an." Almost incomplete. Almost lost. But I was close enough to catch it. Strong enough to let her lean on that name-and the person behind it.
I held her the way oceans hold the moonlight-softly, gently, with a quiet kind of devotion that asks for nothing in return but lingers forever.
"Isha-Ishan, where are you lost?" Someone's voice pulled me back from the memories, from the ache I hadn't quite buried.
"Nowhere," I said, shifting on the sofa, trying to look like I wasn't crumbling inside.
It's been five days since we returned from Kashmir. There was nothing left to stay for-the shoots were done, and we hadn't made any further plans. But Aadhriti had gone quiet. Completely. And I... I hadn't earned the right to ask her why. Not yet.
So, I brought her back to her family-where she might find the comfort I couldn't give.
Now, as she sat across the living area-fiddling through a sea of dupattas, pretending to choose the best one for her bridal entry, flashing smiles at Aaradhna Bhabhi and Tanya-she looked normal.
But she wasn't.
Her smiles weren't the same as before. In fact, they weren't the same at all since the day she returned. Those smiles used to be shy, sometimes hesitant, even awkward-but they never settled this kind of ache in my chest. Not like this. Not like now.
Every time her lips curled into one of those forced, hollow smiles, it felt like a dagger twisting slowly in my heart. Deeper. Sharper. Crueller than the last time.
Across the hall, Maa and Aunty sat with our most trusted family jeweller, whom they'd specially invited today to showcase his latest collection. They were busy selecting pieces for Aadhriti, Aaradhna Bhabhi, and Tanya-discussing bangles, necklaces, and rings with the kind of excitement only a wedding can bring.
