Aarohi And Dev

CHAPTER 52

Aarohi POV

As soon as the question left my lips, a palpable shift coursed through the room. Every pair of eyes turned toward me, surprise and disbelief radiating from each individual. My mom, ever the nurturer, started to speak, "Beta—" but was immediately silenced by my dad, who raised a hand, his expression hard and unreadable.

"What did you just ask?" my dad said, his voice dripping with sourness, each word laced with a warning. His gaze bore into me, a coldness in his eyes I hadn’t seen before, or maybe I had, but it cut deeper this time.

I swallowed hard, feeling the crack in my voice threatening to break me, but I couldn’t stop now. "What happened with Grandfather? What did you say to Advik's father?" My voice wavered, betraying the fear lodged in my throat, but I forced myself to meet his stare, desperate for the truth, no matter how much it hurt.

The silence that followed was suffocating. The air in the room grew heavy as if everyone had collectively stopped breathing, waiting for the storm to break.

The moment those words left my father’s mouth—“He died while saving you”—the ground beneath me seemed to dissolve. My world collapsed in an instant. The air was sucked from the room, leaving me gasping, struggling to process the nightmare that had been lurking in the shadows, waiting to reveal itself. Advik hadn’t been lying. This horror, this thing I had buried deep inside, was real.

My mind raced back to the story I had always believed—that I was saved by villagers. But now, hearing the truth, it felt like my own memories had betrayed me. Everything I thought I knew was a lie.

“Any more questions?” my father asked, his tone cold, dripping with sarcasm, as if this revelation meant nothing to him, just an inconvenience to be brushed aside.

I tried to speak, to form words, but my thoughts were tangled, and nothing made sense. “How—how does this—” My voice cracked, unable to complete the sentence. I needed answers, needed to fill the gaping holes tearing through me.

Suddenly, a memory surged forward, hitting me with the force of a wave. It was a family trip—Dad, Mom, Bhai, Dadi, Dada. I was just a child, playing too close to the cliff, drawn to something shiny. I hadn’t realized how dangerously close I’d gotten to the edge... until I slipped. The fall, the water below, the wind swallowing my screams.

The scar on my arm—a reminder of the day I fell from the cliff.

The memory pulled me under, my chest tightening with the unbearable weight of it. It was blurred and fragmented, but the raw emotion was sharp and unrelenting. Tears welled up, no longer held back, brimming at the edge of my vision.

Through the haze of pain, I felt Dev’s hand tighten around mine, grounding me in the present. His touch was a lifeline, anchoring me amidst the storm. I looked up at him, my tears blurring the edges of his face, but the sorrow that threatened to suffocate me was soothed, if only for a moment, by the silent comfort he offered. Still, the truth hung over me like a shadow, too heavy to escape.

“Wasn’t I saved by the villagers?” I asked, clinging desperately to the memory I had convinced myself was true. My father—no, the man standing in front of me, stared back with a look that held nothing but regret, as if he wished I wasn’t standing there at all.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dadi step forward, her face streaked with tears. She couldn’t hold back anymore. Her voice trembled as she finally broke down in front of me. “It wasn’t the villagers... It was your grandfather. He’s the one who saved you. And he’s the one who died saving you.” She pressed a hand to her chest as if trying to steady the pain, her grief overwhelming her.