The Rathore's Family

Sorry

It was past 11 PM, and Drishti sat in the hall, her legs folded beneath her as she absentmindedly scrolled through her phone. Her mind, however, was miles away, replaying the events from earlier that evening. The way Advait's voice had been thick with rage, the clash between father and son, Tej's venomous disdain—it all echoed in her head. They had been shouting at each other like they were complete strangers, not family. The scene had left a bitter taste in her mouth, one that wouldn't fade.

After witnessing Advait in such a state, Drishti couldn’t summon the courage to return to their room. His eyes—those eyes that only communicated anger—had left her shaken, filling her with fear.

“Drishti, what happened? Why are you sitting here?” Riddhima, her Chachi, asked as she approached.

Drishti stood quickly, startled. “Nothing, Chachi. Just sitting.”

Riddhima gave her a soft smile, her hand resting comfortingly on Drishti's shoulder. “Then go to your room, Beta. It’s late.”

“Hmmm…” Drishti mumbled, though her face betrayed her hesitation. She clearly didn’t want to go.

Sensing her reluctance, Riddhima added kindly, “Listen, Drishti, I know what you’re worried about, but I’m sure he won’t say anything. Just... don’t bring up what happened, alright? Avoid the topic for now.”

Drishti nodded, but the unease remained. “But, Chachi, why do they act like this? Why do they fight like that?”

Riddhima sighed, a weary expression crossing her face. “Beta, there are some relationships that seem fine on the outside, but they’re broken on the inside. That’s just how it is in this family.”

She patted Drishti’s shoulder one last time before standing up. “Now go to bed. Stop thinking.

With a final glance, Riddhima left, and Drishti hesitantly made her way up the stairs.

She opened the door just a crack, peeking in as though it were someone else's room. Advait sat on the sofa, his eyes fixed on his laptop, deep in thought. Steeling herself, Drishti entered, her steps soft, almost as if she hoped not to be noticed.

She moved like a mouse, slow and cautious, as if trying to make herself invisible. Advait caught sight of her as she slipped into the changing room. When she re-emerged, dressed for bed, she saw him still focused on his laptop. She picked up her phone, scrolling through it as she wandered around the room.

Her restless pacing began to irritate Advait. His eyes followed her as she moved toward the door, then circled back, completely engrossed in her phone, oblivious to his growing annoyance.

“Drishti,” he said, his voice soft but carrying a warning.

Still, she didn’t hear him, lost in her own world.

He tilted his head, watching her for a moment before calling again, louder this time, “Drishti!”

She jumped, startled, finally looking at him. The intensity in his gaze sent a shiver of terror through her.

Standing rigid, like an obedient child, she stammered, “K-Kya?” Her eyes avoided his, fixated on the floor.

Advait sighed, his tone softer now. “Don’t you have college tomorrow?”

She nodded, a quick, nervous gesture.

“What?” His brow furrowed in confusion.

“Hai,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Advait didn’t hear any movement from her side, and when he glanced over again, he saw Drishti still standing there, her eyes hesitantly lifted toward him. But as soon as their gazes met, she quickly cast her eyes downward again.