Siya's life in Chandipur was marked by resilience and solitude, her days consumed by nurturing the vibrant blooms of her flower shop. Abandoned at birth and haunted by the mystery of her parents' disappearance, she had grown accustomed to the whispe...
📖 "A kiss ignites a storm of longing and regret, unravelling the chains of a turbulent past." ﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌ ˚ ༘♡ 🪷🪕🪞🦢⋆｡˚ ❀
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Everyone's gaze felt like an invisible weight pressing down on me as I entered the house. Hukum's promise to introduce me to his mother now seemed distant and impossible. The once-welcomed invitation had become an intimidating reality. I had always longed to meet Mrs. Amrita, but not under these strained circumstances. The weight of expectation and the chill in Mrs. Amrita Singh Rathore's eyes made me want to vanish.
"Don't stare at her like this; she's already scared," Hukum's voice broke through the heavy silence, his words a small comfort amidst the tense atmosphere. He sat close to me, his presence a small shield against the unyielding scrutiny. I wanted to cling to him, to express the wave of anxiety surging through me, but the setting felt all wrong. The suffocating silence only deepened my discomfort.
I could feel Mrs. Amrita's eyes on me, her unspoken judgment like a physical presence. Her gaze alone was enough to make me shiver, especially knowing the pain I had caused her son, Adhiraj. His words about sharing our past with her echoed in my mind, amplifying my unease.
"Dii, I met you after so long; how are you?" Rithivik's concern cut through my turmoil. His familiar face brought a fleeting sense of familiarity. I remembered him from the days when he'd whisper secrets about Adhiraj to me, often getting caught in the process.
"I'm good," I managed to whisper, though the weight of Mrs. Amrita's stare seemed to press harder with each passing second. Her silence was louder than any words, filled with the unspoken disappointment and hurt I had inflicted. My decision to leave Adhiraj felt like a personal betrayal she couldn't easily forgive.
Unable to bear the intensity of their stares, I stood up, brushing a few stray locks behind my ear in an attempt to compose myself. "I should go," I murmured, my voice barely audible. Hukum's worried gaze followed me, his hesitation clear. The unspoken conflict between his duty to his mother and his concern for me was palpable.
I recalled a past conversation with Hukum where he had jokingly asked to choose between me and his mother. Without a second thought, he had chosen his mother, pledging never to abandon her. It was a stark reminder of how different he was from others, a contrast to my own painful experiences of abandonment.
Stepping outside the mansion, I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to quell the rising tide of fear and sorrow. The thought of returning to that place, where my innocence had been threatened, sent a shiver down my spine. I had survived by some miracle, but the memories remained a painful burden.
"Where do you think you're going now, after stepping into my son's life?" Mrs. Amrita's voice cut through the air, her stern tone halting me in my tracks. Her words seemed to pierce my heart, each syllable laden with accusation.
