ISHQ VISQ

Chapter 7

Hi everyone, chapter 7 of ishq visq is there i know it's been so long that I haven't updated but now I'll try to update as soon as possible so do vote and comment

Once again sorry for the long wait

Siddharth sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the phone in his hand. The clock on the wall read well past midnight, but sleep was the last thing on his mind. His day had been a blur of meetings and deadlines, but none of it mattered now. His thoughts were tethered to Kriti.

Something had felt off since the moment they’d parted earlier that evening. Her silence, her downcast eyes—it wasn’t like her , the loud this he heard was somehow Making him overthink He knew Kriti well enough  to sense when something was wrong even when there's not much she had talked about but her eyes her eyes talked a million words and I can hear them all day .She didn’t wear her emotions on her sleeve, but tonight, there had been cracks in her armor.

Unable to hold back any longer, he dialed her number. It rang once, twice, and just as he began to worry she wouldn’t pick up, the call connected.

“Hello?” Her voice was soft, almost trembling, and it hit him like a blow to the chest.

“Kriti, it’s me,” he said, his voice warm but laced with concern. “Are you okay?”

There was a long pause on the other end, and for a moment, all he could hear was her uneven breathing.

“I’m fine,” she said finally, but the words were barely above a whisper, and he could tell they were a lie.

“You don’t sound fine,” he pressed, his tone gentler now. “Kriti, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“It’s nothing, Siddharth. Really.” She sniffled, and his heart clenched at the sound.

“Kriti…” He leaned forward, gripping the phone tighter. “You can talk to me. You know that, right? Whatever it is, I’ll listen. I’ll help.”

For a moment, she wanted to believe him. She wanted to tell him everything—the way her father had slapped her in a fit of rage, the way his words had cut deeper than any physical blow, and the way her entire future felt like it was slipping out of her control. But the weight of her family’s expectations bore down on her like a chain she couldn’t break.

“I can’t,” she whispered. Her voice cracked, and the sound broke something inside Siddharth.

“Yes, you can,” he urged softly. “You don’t have to go through this alone, Kriti. I’m here.”

Her heart ached at the sincerity in his voice, but that only made it harder. She couldn’t drag him into this mess. She couldn’t let herself lean on him, no matter how much she wanted to.

“I need to go,” she said abruptly, her voice tight with suppressed emotion. “Good night, Siddharth.”

“Kriti, wait—”

The line went dead.

Siddharth stared at his phone, frustration and helplessness churning inside him. He hated this feeling—the knowledge that she was hurting and that she didn’t trust him enough to let him in. Whatever had happened tonight, it wasn’t “nothing.” But if she wasn’t ready to talk, what could he do?

---

On the other side of the city, Kriti sat curled up on the floor of her bedroom, her back pressed against the cold wall. Tears streamed down her face, but she didn’t bother wiping them away.

Her father’s words echoed in her mind, harsh and unyielding. “Do you think I didn’t notice? Coming home with Siddharth and that girl, laughing as if you have no care in the world! Do you think I don’t know what you’re up to?”

The slap had come so suddenly, she hadn’t even processed it until the sting bloomed across her cheek. But it wasn’t the pain that hurt the most—it was the cold, calculated way he had laid out his plans for her future. A future she had no say in.

“You’re my daughter, Kriti. You’ll marry the son of my business partner, and that’s final. This nonsense with Siddharth ends now.”

She clenched her fists, tears blurring her vision. Her father had misread the situation entirely. Siddharth wasn’t in love with her. He was kind, caring, but she knew he didn’t see her that way. Yet the thought of losing even the small, fleeting moments they shared—the late-night calls, the quiet conversations—felt unbearable.

And tonight, when he had spoken to her with such warmth, telling her she could tell him anything, she had felt a flicker of hope. For a brief moment, she had believed him. But then reality came crashing back. Siddharth couldn’t fix this. No one could.

---

Meanwhile, Shivika lay awake in her own room, staring at the ceiling. The day’s events replayed in her mind like a film on loop, but her thoughts always came back to Siddharth.

She smiled faintly, thinking of how he had been since they were kids—always the steady one, always looking out for her. How many times had she fallen, both literally and figuratively, only for him to pick her up again?

Her mind drifted to a memory from a few months ago. She had been rushing down the street, trying to catch up with him, when she’d tripped over a loose stone and gone sprawling. The pain in her knee had been sharp, but before she could even process it, Siddharth had been there, crouching beside her.

“You’re impossible,” he’d muttered, shaking his head as he opened his ever-present first aid kit.

She had watched him as he worked, the way his brow furrowed in concentration and the way his hands were so careful, so precise. He had scolded her the entire time, but she hadn’t heard a word of it. All she had seen was him—his kindness, his patience, his quiet strength.

That was the moment she had realized the depth of her feelings for him. She loved him. Not just as her best friend, but as the man who made her feel safe, cherished, and understood.

But she knew Siddharth didn’t feel the same. She had seen the way he looked at Kriti, the way his entire demeanor softened around her, and it broke her heart. Yet she couldn’t stop loving him.

As she stared out the window at the dark sky, she whispered to herself, “It’s enough. It has to be enough.”

---

Siddharth sat in his room, staring at the wall. The conversation with Kriti replayed in his mind, and the memory of her broken voice gnawed at him.

He hated not being able to help her. He hated the distance she kept between them, the walls she built to keep him out. But more than anything, he hated the idea that she might be dealing with something she couldn’t handle alone.

Shivika’s message buzzed on his phone, pulling him out of his thoughts.

Shivika: Still awake?

He sighed and typed a quick response.

Siddharth: Yeah. Can’t sleep. What about you?

Shivika: Same. Just thinking about stuff.

He smiled faintly. Shivika was always checking in on him, always there when he needed her, even when he didn’t realize it. She was his rock, his constant, and he cared for her deeply. But his heart belonged to someone else.

His thoughts drifted back to Kriti, and the worry returned. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. And as much as he cared about Shivika, his heart, his mind, and every ounce of his being were consumed by the girl who wouldn’t let him in.

Little did he know, both women lay awake that night, their hearts tangled in the same man, each carrying a love that threatened to tear them apart.

This is all for this episode , I'll upload the next episode  today at evening so stay tuned and do support by vote