Fated To Love You

Chapter 77

Siddharth swallowed the lump in his throat as he stepped toward the first boy. His grip on the stick was firm, but his heart felt heavy. As he swung, the sound of the strike echoed through the room. The boy flinched but didn't look up, only stepping back quietly after the second strike.

Moving to the next boy, Siddharth hesitated. Their eyes met briefly, and the boy quickly bowed his head, extending his hands with a mix of shame and resignation. This wasn't just punishment—it was humiliation. Siddharth's chest tightened as guilt coursed through him. His friend deserved better.

"I'm sorry," Siddharth whispered so softly that only he could hear it. With a reluctant swing, he struck the boy twice. The sound of the stick meeting his palms made Siddharth wince as much as the boy, who rubbed his hands together in pain. Siddharth averted his eyes, unable to bear the look on his friend's face.

Then came Ruhi. She didn't move, didn't glance his way. She simply stepped forward with a stiff posture and extended her hands. Her head remained bowed, her eyes tightly shut as though bracing for the worst.

For a moment, Siddharth froze, staring at her trembling hands. His mind flashed back to her expressions earlier—the vulnerability, the quiet defiance, the hurt he had caused before. His grip on the stick faltered as his chest tightened.

His gaze softened. His hands trembled slightly as he swung, the strike barely grazing her palms. The movement lacked the force he had shown before, his own discomfort evident in his hesitant motion.

Ruhi brows furrowed slightly, her eyes fluttering open in surprise, startled, as though she couldn't believe the gentleness. She glanced up briefly, confusion flashing in her gaze. Why? she seemed to wonder. Before she could process it, Sumedh's stern voice cut through the silence.

Sumedh's voice was like a whip, cold and commanding. It cut through Siddharth's hesitation, forcing him to straighten.

He closed his eyes and took a deep, shaky breath. With more force than before, he struck her palms. The sound was sharper, harsher, but the intensity still didn't match what he had delivered to the boys.

Ruhi winced, biting her lip to suppress the sting. Her hands trembled, and her knuckles turned white from clenching her fists, but she didn't say a word. Her silence felt louder than any cry of pain.

"Main maar kar batayu kya?" Sumedh's angry voice boomed as he stormed toward Siddharth, his steps deliberate and intimidating.

Siddharth froze, his heart pounding. He looked down, his grip tightening on the stick, unable to meet Sumedh's furious gaze. "Sorry, sir," he mumbled, his voice barely audible.

With no other choice, he raised the stick again. The third strike landed with a harsh sound, causing Ruhi to flinch. Siddharth bit the inside of his cheek, trying to mask his emotions, but his trembling hands gave him away.Sumedh snatched the stick from Siddharth's hands and turned toward Himani. His sharp eyes pierced her as he extended the stick.

"Your turn," he said coldly.

Himani hesitated, her fingers quivering as she took the stick. She looked at the first boy with wide, tear-filled eyes, her lips trembling as she raised the stick. Her movements were slow, unsure. The strike barely touched the boy's palms, and her grip faltered. The boy winced, but more from the tension in the room than the strike itself. Himani's hands shook so much that the stick almost slipped from her grip.