The Rathore's Family

Fight

Advait entered the house late that night, his steps heavy as he crossed the threshold. In the hall, Tej Bhavendra sat with Urmila and Raj, while a little distance away, Vihaan, Amaira, and Drishti were seated. The scene looked serene, almost picture-perfect. Anjali brought coffee and placed it gently on the table before retreating quietly. To anyone watching, it would seem like a peaceful family gathering. But for Advait, it was all an illusion.

As soon as he saw his father’s face, the familiar surge of anger rose in his chest. Tej's mere presence was enough to unsettle him. It always reminded him of the life they lived—the one his father didn’t deserve. Advait avoided them as much as possible, trying to create his own semblance of peace in a house that constantly reminded him of betrayal.

He headed towards the stairs, hoping to escape the inevitable confrontation, when a voice stopped him in his tracks.

"You are back, Advait," Dada Ji’s gentle tone called from the hall.

Advait paused mid-step and turned slowly, his expression unreadable. "Hmm."

"Come sit here," Dada Ji beckoned, his voice kind, almost coaxing.

Advait hesitated. He didn’t want to join them, but refusing Dada Ji was not something he could easily do. He took a step toward them, but froze when Urmila’s biting words reached his ears.

"Ab ye woh Advait nahi reh gaya hai jo aapki har baat sunega. Now he is Advait Singh Rathore. Ye bhool gaya hai kisse kaise baat karni chahiye."

The scorn in her voice was unmistakable. Her earlier rage was evident in the sharpness of her words. Advait clenched his jaw and deliberately stepped back, retreating from the situation he knew could explode at any moment.

In the corner, Drishti watched the tension unfold, her curiosity piqued. "What’s happening there?" she asked Vihaan, her voice hushed.

Vihaan gave a half-hearted shrug, keeping his eyes in the hall. "Nothing, it’s pretty normal for us... but new for you, Bhabhi. I think you should go to the room."

"Why? Should I… how can I just leave when everything's happening in the hall?" Drishti replied, her anxiety is rising.

Amaira glanced toward the reflection in the mirror, watching the scene intently. "I think Bhaiya is angry."

Drishti frowned. "When isn’t he?" she muttered, not fully understanding the gravity of the moment.

Vihaan shook his head, his tone serious. "That’s just it—you’ve never seen him truly angry."

Before Drishti could respond, their attention was snapped back to the hall as the tension between Tej and Advait escalated.

Tej stood now, his voice sharp with authority. "Tumhari himmat kaise hui maa se aise baat karne ki?"

Advait remained rooted in his spot, his hands casually stuffed in his pockets. The contrast between his father’s rising anger and his own controlled exterior was stark. His voice, however, carried a dangerous edge.

"Mujhe shauk nahi hai aapse ya aapki maa se baat karne ka." Advait’s voice boomed through the hall, loud and unapologetic. His words hung in the air like a challenge, and everyone in the room felt the tension thicken. In the kitchen, Riddhima and Anjali paused, hearing the heated exchange. Their faces grew pale as they walked towards the hall.

Tej, visibly angered, closed the distance between them with heavy steps. "Saaf dikhai de raha hai tumhari maa ne kya sikhaya hai tumhe," he spat, his words meant to provoke.

Advait’s face darkened instantly, his fists clenched by his sides. "Shut up."

The force of his shout reverberated through the hall, startling everyone. He shouted again, "Shut up!"