Siya's life in Chandipur was marked by resilience and solitude, her days consumed by nurturing the vibrant blooms of her flower shop. Abandoned at birth and haunted by the mystery of her parents' disappearance, she had grown accustomed to the whispe...
📖 Amidst Achievements, the Heart Knows Where It Belongs. ﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌ ˚ ༘♡ 🪷🪕🪞🦢⋆｡˚ ❀
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The electricity project was finally running smoothly, and every detail I'd been so meticulous about came together like the last piece of an intricate puzzle. This project wasn't just a venture; it was a statement, a legacy meant to push the Rathore name further into prominence. Rithvik, my loyal brother, had been my rock, staying by my side and ensuring the workers pushed through despite the sleepless nights. The team's dedication and our relentless drive paid off, and today, standing in the glare of success, I could feel the weight lift off my chest, if only slightly.
As the clock struck 11 AM in the morning, exhaustion pulled at every muscle, but I pushed through, entering my hotel room with the rigidity of a soldier. It was spacious, grand even, but empty in a way that made it feel smaller than it was. The silence hung heavy, the kind that made you long for a familiar laugh or the rustling sound of bangles. I had a conference to attend at 2 PM at afternoon followed by a press briefing where I would face the barrage of paparazzi questions. The schedule had been relentless, a seamless loop of meetings, inspections, and more meetings. But through it all, there was a singular thought that anchored me: her.
This entire month, meant to be a celebration of our union and shared dreams, had instead been devoured by the project. And yet, I knew my queen, my ever-patient Rani-sa, held on, waiting, understanding. It wasn't in her nature to stay quiet or subdued; she was fire, vibrant and shy at some point. Normally, she'd be the one to wait in the hallway, peppering me with questions about my day or insisting that I change into a normal attire instead of regal kurta. She'd peer at me with those keen eyes, when I swipe her this suggestions.
"Ek din, sirf ek din aur...."
"One day, just one more day," I muttered to myself, half a reminder, half a plea. I flopped down on the armchair, loosening the buttons of my crisp white shirt, a deep sigh escaping as the day's weight began to catch up to me. My phone blinked, messages from Rithvik about tomorrow's media questions and a reminder about the press release. I chuckled dryly; his dedication was both a blessing and a nuisance.
Scrolling further, my eyes landed on her name in the chat. I couldn't help but smile as I remembered the call earlier, her face half-hidden behind a quilt as she glared at me with those fierce eyes, pretending to be annoyed but unable to hide the faint curve of a smile. That look had sustained me through many sleepless nights, the reminder that when all the work was done, when the accolades were received, there was someone waiting for the man behind the titles, the husband beneath the Hukum-sa.
"Kash yahan hoti....."
"I wish she were here," I whispered, fingers brushing the screen as if that could pull her closer. The room seemed colder without her teasing words, her laughter filling the silence. And though the project had gone exceptionally well, and tonight we would finally reap the rewards of our efforts, I couldn't deny the yearning in my chest.
