ISHQ VISHQ|| COMPLETED ✅||

Chapter 32

Hey everyone this is chapter 32 do like and comment and share

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The winding roads of Shimla unfurled beneath the wheels of Siddharth’s car, just as they had a few days ago. The same trees. The same sunlight filtering through the leaves. The same two passengers.

But today?

Everything felt heavier.

Shivika sat in silence, her ankle propped on the edge of the seat, wrapped lightly with a crepe bandage. Her gaze stayed locked outside the window, watching the trees blur past.

Siddharth drove steadily. He hadn’t said a word since the trip began.

But every few minutes, his eyes flickered to her ankle. Then to her face.

And finally, just once, he broke the silence.

> “Pain’s better?” he asked softly.

She blinked, surprised by the question — by the gentleness in his voice.

“Yeah. Just a bit sore.”

He nodded. “If it swells again, don’t walk too much during the functions. Use the ointment I left in your bag.”

She looked at him — not expecting that.

“You… left that?”

He shrugged, eyes on the road. “You won’t take help directly, so…”

She wanted to say something — maybe thank you, maybe why are you still this kind — but instead…

She said nothing.

Because Siddharth?

He didn’t ask her anything more.

Not about the confession.

Not about what she felt.

Not even about what she was thinking.

And that… stung more than she expected.

"He said he loved me yesterday…
And today, he didn’t even ask if I heard it."

But maybe that’s what real guilt looks like — not begging to be forgiven, just silently hoping to be remembered kindly.

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The Malhotras and Singhanias returned from Shimla, chattering about the trip, unpacking, arguing over lost phone chargers and who stole whose towel.

Karan and Kritika were immediately whisked away by relatives planning haldi and mehndi themes.

And Shivika?

She slipped back into her room, shut the door, and stared at the bag that still held her Shimla clothes.

She hadn't touched it yet.

Because maybe if she didn’t unpack…
She didn’t have to accept that something had shifted inside her.

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The Malhotra home glowed in shades of henna and rose. Golden fairy lights wrapped the courtyard pillars, and soft shehnai music played in the background. The scent of eucalyptus oil and marigold mingled in the air.

But the usual chaos of cousins and teasing had dimmed. After the trip, something had changed. The energy was softer now. No jokes. No unnecessary pulling of names.