Divangshi was lost, her thumb idly brushing over the familiar image on her phone. There he was—Hamza, in a candid shot she’d taken one afternoon. She hadn’t even realized when Saksham joined her on the terrace until he spoke, his voice threaded with that mischievous teasing only he could pull off.
"So, it seems my sister has found herself missing someone, even in the midst of all this wedding chaos," he remarked, his tone light but knowing.
Divangshi nearly jumped, snapping her phone to her chest. "Oh my god, Saksham! Must you sneak up on me like that?"
He raised an eyebrow, grinning. "Sneak up on you? Please, you were so zoned out, I could've arrived with a marching band, and you wouldn't have noticed."
Before she could defend herself, one of their cousin brothers walked up, catching the tail end of the conversation. "Oh, really? Is our dear Divangshi actually missing someone?" he chimed in, leaning forward with a grin that practically spelled out ‘I smell gossip.’
Divangshi shot Saksham a pointed look—a silent plea for rescue that he understood instantly. Reading her mood, he held up a hand. "Alright, alright," he said smoothly, "let’s not overwhelm her with our detective work. Besides, I need to borrow her for a bit. You all go down and enjoy the party."
The cousins muttered their disappointed "fine" and "spoil-sport" as they filed down the stairs, leaving Saksham and Divangshi alone in the soft evening light.
"So… is it something serious?" he asked gently, breaking the silence that had settled around them.
Divangshi forced a laugh, shaking her head. "Nah, nothing serious," she muttered, but her voice lacked conviction.
Saksham leaned against the railing, eyeing her. "You sure about that? You know you can't lie to me, right?"
She hesitated, biting her lip. "Maruf… texted me this morning."
The name seemed to drop between them like a stone. Saksham’s playful expression vanished. "What? Maruf texted you? And you’re just telling me now?" He folded his arms, brows knitting. "What does that guy want after a year and a half?"
Divangshi shrugged, avoiding his gaze. "I don’t know. He just… asked how I was."
"And you replied?" Saksham’s tone was sharp, almost protective.
"I wasn’t planning to," she admitted, "but Urvi di said to see what he wanted. I called her the moment he messaged."
Saksham nodded, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "If it’s her advice, then fine."
A quiet moment passed between them. She could feel Saksham watching her, trying to see through her calm exterior.
Finally, he spoke again, softer this time. "But, Raahi… what if he asks you to get back together? What then?"
The question landed hard. She looked at him, a flicker of hurt crossing her face. "Why would you even ask that, dabhai?"
"Because I know what he meant to you, Raahi," Saksham replied, his voice gentler now. "I know that no matter who comes into your life, Maruf still has this… grip on you. If he came back with an apology, with promises to make things right… would you really walk away?"
Her silence was answer enough. She dropped her gaze, and as she did, a tear slipped from her eye, landing like a small, sorrowful mark on the white plaster at her feet. Saksham noticed immediately. He pulled her into his arms, wrapping her in a hug so strong and comforting that she felt her walls breaking, piece by piece.
Divangshi clung to him, finally letting the weight of months—years, even—sink into his steady embrace. She didn’t hold back the tears that followed. She was too exhausted, too overwhelmed to put on the brave face. Saksham didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. He just rubbed her back or gently brushed her hair aside, small gestures that said, I’m here. I’ve got you.
When her sobs finally quieted, he pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes, his own gaze soft but steady. "Listen, Raahi. I know you’re stuck between Hamza and Maruf, and that it feels like there’s no clear answer. But I think your feelings for Hamza are stronger than you admit. You’re holding on to Maruf partly because you don’t want to hurt him, right?"
Divangshi nodded weakly, her voice small. "Yes… but it’s more than that, Saksham. I can’t keep discussing Maruf with everyone. I’m just so tired, dabhai. Too tired to keep going over it. I want out—from all of it."
He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I get it, Raahi. I really do. But I think you should at least talk to Urvi and Saysha. They know you, and they’ll understand. They might help you see things clearer."
Divangshi shook her head, squeezing his hand. "No, I don’t want anyone else’s advice. Just yours. Please… just tell me what to do, and I’ll listen."
Saksham exhaled deeply, pressing his lips together as if weighing his own words carefully. "Alright, Raahi. I won’t push you to talk to anyone else. But if I do need advice, I’ll go to Urvi. And if she has any input, I’ll let you know. Fair?"
She nodded, the faintest smile tugging at her lips. "Thank you, dabhai. Really."
He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, his own smile mirroring hers. "For now, let’s head back down before we miss all the fun. But first…" He held up his phone, smirking. "How about some pictures? I know someone who’ll be waiting for them."
Divangshi laughed, the sound bright and relieving after the heaviness of the last few moments. "Yes! I need to post something to keep up my ‘I’m at a wedding’ feed!"
Saksham chuckled, positioning himself to get the best angle. "Alright, hold still! Give us that diva smile."
As he snapped photos, the two fell into their usual banter, each light-hearted quip a small step away from the turmoil that had clouded Divangshi’s heart. And though Saksham kept up the jokes, he couldn’t quite ignore the worry for his sister that still lingered.
