Anuragaanjali ~ The Eternal Love ✅

Chapter 47 : The Four Years

The Long Wait

Four years had passed since that fateful night when Aaradhya was torn away from Arjun's arms. The memories of their love, their promises, and the pain of their separation had not dulled. If anything, they had grown sharper with time, etched deeper into Arjun's heart. He had not seen her in all these years, nor had he heard from her. He didn't know where she was or what had become of her. His heart was heavy with grief, the emptiness in his chest growing every day. He missed her more than he could put into words, and every day without her felt like an eternity.

The days in Indraprastha were filled with battles, court duties, and the ever-present weight of responsibility. But none of these duties brought him peace. His nights were sleepless, filled with dreams of her—of the life they could have had together, of the child she had carried. He had made his decision, but now, he wasn't sure if it had been the right one. Every time he closed his eyes, he could still feel her presence, the warmth of her hand in his, the tenderness of her smile. And every time he woke up, that presence was gone, leaving behind a gaping hole that no amount of time or duty could fill.

Meanwhile, in a humble hut deep in the forest, Aaradhya had lived a quiet life with her son, Abhimanyu. Her heart had never ceased longing for Arjun, but she had learned to accept her fate. She had raised Abhimanyu with love, pouring all the affection she had once given to Arjun into her son. Despite the years of separation, her love for Arjun remained steadfast and unwavering.

Abhimanyu had grown into a curious, intelligent boy, his eyes gleaming with a sense of purpose and determination that reminded Aaradhya of his father. He was the joy in her life, the one thing that kept her going through the hardest of days. But even as she doted on him, her heart still ached for Arjun.

One evening, as the golden hues of the setting sun bathed the forest in warmth, Aaradhya and Abhimanyu were sitting by the riverbank. Abhimanyu was playing with a small stone, skipping it across the water, laughing with delight. Aaradhya watched him, a soft smile on her face, but her eyes betrayed the sadness she still carried in her heart.

"Abhimanyu," she called softly, her voice filled with warmth. The boy turned to her, his face lighting up as he ran to her side.

"Yes, Maa?" he asked, his voice filled with innocent curiosity.

Aaradhya pulled him into her arms, holding him tightly. "You know, my dear, your father would have been so proud of you. You remind me so much of him."

Abhimanyu smiled brightly, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I want to be like him, Maa. Strong, brave, and kind. Just like Arjun, my papa."

Aaradhya's heart clenched at the mention of Arjun, her throat tightening as she fought back the tears that threatened to fall. She kissed her son's forehead, her hand gently stroking his hair. "You are already like him in so many ways," she whispered. "You have his strength, his courage, and his heart. He would have loved you so much, Abhimanyu."

The boy looked up at her, his expression curious. "Maa, why don't we ever talk about papa? Why don't we see him like the other children see their fathers?"

Aaradhya's heart twisted, the pain of their separation resurfacing in that simple question. She held her son close, her voice soft but steady. "Your father and I... we had to be apart, my love. But that doesn't change how much I love you both. You are his legacy, Abhimanyu. Always remember that."

Abhimanyu looked up at her with a solemn expression, his small hand resting on her cheek. "I don't know what happened, but I'll find papa one day, Maa. I promise."

Aaradhya smiled at him through her tears, brushing a strand of hair from his face. "I know you will, my brave boy. And when you do, you will make him proud. Just remember that no matter what happens, you are loved. And that love will always be with you."

Abhimanyu smiled and hugged her tightly, his small hands wrapping around her. "I'll make sure to bring him back, Maa. I'll make sure our family is together again."

Aaradhya closed her eyes, holding her son close, feeling the warmth of his embrace. As she held him, she found solace in his words. She didn't know what the future held, but for now, she had her son—her light, her reason to keep going. She only hoped that one day, Arjun would find his way back to them, that their love would be enough to overcome the distance and the pain.

Back in Indraprastha, Arjun sat alone in his chamber, staring out into the vast courtyard below. The city had been built with dreams of peace and prosperity, yet none of that had mattered to him without Aaradhya by his side. His mind wandered to the memories of their time together—her laughter, her warmth, her eyes that had held so much love for him. But now, all he had left were the ghosts of those memories.

He clenched his fists, a wave of frustration and sadness overtaking him. He had sent her away for the sake of her honor, for the sake of protecting her, but in the end, all he had done was push her further from him. He had betrayed her trust, and now, he lived with the consequences of that decision every day.

Tears filled his eyes once more as he whispered her name into the empty room. "Aaradhya..."

The pain in his chest was unbearable, but he knew that, somehow, the love they had shared still lingered, even in the distance. He had to find her—he had to make things right. He didn't know how, but the thought of living without her, without knowing if she was safe or happy, was a torment he couldn't bear.

As the days passed, Arjun's restlessness grew. He could feel something deep within him—the pull of fate, the hope that somehow, he would find his way back to her. And he knew, deep down, that he couldn't rest until he did.

For now, though, his heart longed for something he couldn't touch. A future with her, a future with their son—a family he had lost, but one he would stop at nothing to reclaim.

And so, as the world around him continued to spin, Arjun's heart stayed fixed on the one person who held it: Aaradhya.