Retributed And Redempted Love

Chapter 41

Let's get into the story,

Weeks after Shravan left for London

The night wrapped around the house like a thick, unmoving shadow.

Saakshi sat on the edge of her bed, legs folded close, wrapped in a silence that had slowly grown familiar over the past few weeks. The only sound in the room was the faint tick of the clock and the soft hum of the ceiling fan overhead.

She opened the drawer beside her and quietly pulled out a single photograph.

It was worn now — a little crumpled at the edges. A moment from weeks ago: Shravan, holding Shivu, both of them mid-laughter, unaware the photo was being taken. Shivu’s curls wild. Shravan’s smile tired, but real. The kind of smile only Shivu could pull from him.

She stared at it for a long moment, her fingers gently tracing the outlines as if the touch alone could take her back to that day.

A tight breath caught in her chest.

She had said yes.

Aadhi had brought it up, carefully, gently — and somewhere between the silences and tired smiles, she had nodded. For Anjali. For Aaru. For him. For the family that had held her through storms.

But not for herself.

And now, with the world quiet around her… the ache returned. Deeper this time. Quieter. Heavier.

He left again.
Not with anger. Not with bitterness.
Walking away with silence, convincing himself he was doing the right thing.

“Why does he always leave before I even get to speak?”

Her throat burned as she pressed the photo against her chest, eyes closed.

She thought agreeing would help — that if she let Aadhi take the next steps, everything would begin to feel lighter.

But it didn’t.

Because every time she tried to move forward, she was pulled right back to this.

To that photo.
To that little boy calling her "Amma".
To that man who kept leaving, thinking he was saving her… never realizing he was the one thing she was still waiting for.

A soft whisper left her lips, so faint even the walls barely heard.

Saakshi (whispers):
"I didn’t let go… I just stayed quiet."

Her eyes brimmed, the first tear slipping down without resistance. She didn’t wipe it.
The pain wasn’t loud anymore. It was quiet… constant… like a background hum in her chest.

She stayed like that for a long time.
Not breaking. Not sobbing.
Just… hurting, the way only someone who had loved without words could hurt.

And the photo remained in her hands, warm from her touch — the last piece of them she still allowed herself to hold.

Two Months Later – London
Late Evening – Shravan’s Apartment

The living room was softly lit. Shivu was asleep on the couch, snuggled beneath a blanket, his favorite stuffed elephant tucked in his arms.

Shravan, seated nearby with his laptop open and files scattered across the table, looked utterly drained. Between work meetings, childcare, and adjusting to a new life in London, exhaustion had become his constant.

Just then, his phone buzzed.

Incoming Call: Arjun

Shravan answered, voice weary but alert.