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The cold night breeze swept over the terrace as Hridhay, Hridhaan, and Hrishav sat in tense silence, the air thick with unspoken frustration. Their argument with Uttara still echoed in their minds. How could she take on the responsibility of Heshan, his son? The child of the man who had brought nothing but suffering into their lives?
Hridhay sat on the chair, fists clenched on the armrests, his jaw tight with rage. His eyes stared blankly ahead, but beneath that icy exterior, a storm of anger brewed. His mother's decision had struck him like a blow to the chest. The idea of Heshan living under the same roof as them felt like a betrayal, a reopening of old wounds that had never truly healed.
The younger twins, Hridhaan and Hrishav, exchanged uneasy glances. They both knew that Hridhay had suffered the most out of all of them. He had been the eldest, old enough to understand everything when their father had abandoned them and tossed them out like they meant nothing. Hridhay had been the one to hold everything together when Uttara had been at her lowest, when their lives had fallen apart.
And now, this... how could their mother make such a promise?
"We can't let this happen." Hridhay finally muttered, his voice low and dangerous, his eyes still fixed in the distance. "Not him. Not in our home."
Hridhaan nodded, his expression hardening. "Mom's just too emotional. She'll regret it. She was probably caught in a weak moment... but we won't let it go that far."
Hrishav, who was normally the calmest of the three, leaned forward, his face tense. "We can't have him here, Bhaiya. It's not just about what happened to us. He's part of their world-his world. And that world has no place in our lives."
Hridhay's lips twisted into a bitter smile. "Do you really think I'm going to sit by and watch? After everything that bastard did to us? I'm not letting that kid ruin what we've built here. I don't care if he's just a child."
"He's their child." Hridhaan snapped, unable to contain his own anger any longer. "We fought so hard to get past what our father did. Now, we're supposed to pretend it's fine? Like we can just forget everything because our mother felt sorry for him?"
Hridhay rose from the chair abruptly, his tall figure casting a long shadow on the terrace floor. He turned to his brothers, his eyes blazing. "We won't let it happen. We'll talk to Mom again. She has to understand. This isn't about being kind or doing the right thing. It's about protecting our family. Heshan doesn't belong here. He's not our responsibility. He has his own family-let them deal with him."
Hrishav crossed his arms, nodding in agreement. "He doesn't belong with us, and we won't let him disrupt our lives. Not after everything."
They all knew it wasn't just about Heshan. It was about the weight of their past, the betrayal that still stung, and the father they wished to erase from their memories. Ranvijay had thrown them out, left them to fend for themselves without so much as a second thought. Their mother had fought for their survival, built a new life for them, and now, they had to fight to protect that life from crumbling again.
"We'll make her see sense." Hridhay said coldly. "We won't let her suffer through this. We'll do whatever it takes to make sure he's gone."
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.
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.Heshan quietly opened the door to the guest room and stepped inside, his heart still racing from the events of the evening. The soft click of the door closing behind him seemed louder than it should, echoing in the silence of the room. He moved to the edge of the bed and sat down, his body heavy with exhaustion. His hands reached for the glass on the bedside table, and with shaky fingers, he poured water from the jug. The cool liquid slid down his throat, soothing the dryness, but it did little to calm the storm brewing inside him.
He couldn't get their voices out of his head. He heard brothers talking on the terrace. He had only gone there for some fresh air, his chest tight from another panic attack creeping in. His medicine was forgotten back at his grandfather's house, and all he wanted was to breathe, to find relief in the night air. But when he neared the terrace, he had heard them. Their words, their anger. He stopped just short of revealing himself, hiding behind the door. He hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but once he heard his name, he couldn't tear himself away.
"We can't let him stay here."
He sighed, placing the glass back on the table. Heshan didn't blame them for what they said. They were right, after all. This wasn't his home, and he didn't belong here. They had no reason to accept him, not after everything that had happened between their families. The pain that their father had caused them was something Heshan understood deeply, even if it wasn't his fault. Their resentment was justified.
His gaze shifted to the small box on the table beside him-the ashes of his mother, Anushka. His eyes misted as he looked at it, his chest tightening for an entirely different reason now. Today was the last day he could keep her close. Tomorrow, he would take her ashes to the holy Ganges and release them, as was tradition. A final goodbye.
Carefully, Heshan reached for the box, holding it tightly to his chest. He hugged it close, his eyes closing as he imagined her warmth, her presence. Even though it was just ashes, just a box, he could still feel her somehow. It was as if she were here with him, wrapping him in the love and comfort he so desperately missed.
For a brief moment, he felt at peace.
But the moment was short-lived. His phone vibrated in his pocket, breaking the stillness. He sighed as he pulled it out, glancing at the screen. The caller ID flashed: Dadaji !
Heshan's heart sank. He didn't want to talk to him. Conversations with his grandfather were never easy, they always left him feeling uneasy, tense. The old man's voice carried too much weight, too many expectations. For just one day, maybe a few days, he wanted to escape that pressure. He wanted to grieve without the burden of his family's complicated demands.
But he knew he couldn't avoid it forever. Once the brothers threw him out, he would have no choice but to face his grandfather again.
He let the phone ring, his hand trembling as he silenced it. For now, at least, he could pretend he was still safe from him.
Here's the first chapter!
I hope you enjoy it. What are your thoughts? Did any part stand out to you? I'd love to hear your feedback.
Thank you,
Yours,
SHIVANYA THAKUR
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• Bound by blood, Healed by Love : Shekhawat brother series' book 1
General FictionRanvijay Shekhawat was a man who shattered lives,leaving behind broken promises, betrayed vows, and a fractured family. When he abandoned his first wife, Uttara, and their three sons, Hridhay, Hridhaan, and Hrishav. The family was left to piece toge...