Meant to be yours

The reunion

Ishika's POV:

Anamika’s sobs had slowed, but she was still trembling in my arms. I could feel the way her body rose and fell against mine, unsteady, like she was fighting to hold herself together even as everything inside her had already cracked.

I brushed a strand of hair from her face. Her eyes were red, lashes wet, but she met my gaze this time. There was no armor left — just exhaustion, hurt, and something fragile underneath.

“Ishika…” she whispered, voice raw.

“I’m here,” I said softly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

For a long time, neither of us spoke. The room was silent except for the faint hum of the night outside — a car passing, the wind brushing against the curtains, the uneven rhythm of our breathing slowly finding each other’s pace.

Anamika lifted her hand hesitantly, fingers brushing the side of my neck. It wasn’t desire, not in that moment. It was need — human, aching, wordless need to feel safe again.

I took her hand and pressed it to my chest. “You’re not alone, Anamika,” I whispered. “Not anymore.”
" Let me take care of you. " I helped her to get up and we went back to our room.
After laying down on the bed, I caressed her hair gently urging her to sleep.
I never thought she would be heartbroken like this if she learned about Anshul's real face.
Something in her broke again, but this time it wasn’t from pain. Her body melted into mine, her forehead resting against my collarbone. I held her close, my arms around her waist, my chin resting on her hair.

We stayed like that, breathing together, hearts syncing in the stillness.

For once, the world outside didn’t matter.
It was just her and me — grief and love tangled into something quiet and unspoken, a promise in the dark.

Payal's POV:

I have been shooting an advertisement in Rajasthan. Riya hasn't followed me here. She's still keeping her distance. I made a big mistake by kissing Jazz.

Though it means nothing, I have offended Riya. In between the breaks, I  text her. But her replies are formal, no flirting like she usually does.
" I miss you, Riya. I am sorry. " I texted her as I went back to the shoot.
While shooting, My phone has been ringing nonstop.When Namrata aunty called, I thought it was just another family thing — one of those family dinner updates that she holds often.
But her voice broke on my name. And the words “ we told Anamika about Anshul” made my blood run cold.

I didn’t even remember hanging up. One minute I was standing under studio lights, fake-smiling for the camera; the next, I was running, leaving behind the shoot, my bag, everything. I rushed to the airport.

By the time I reached the house, my lungs hurt and my makeup was ruined. The air inside felt too still. Namrata aunty and Uncle Chirag sat in the living room, pale and quiet. When they looked up, I already knew.

“She knows,” Uncle said softly.

I nodded once. My throat wouldn’t let me speak. It was already morning. Riya is nowhere around.

I’d always known this moment would come. The truth never stays buried forever. But a part of me had prayed Anamika wouldn’t have to look at her brother — my abuser — through my scars.

I went straight to Anshul's room.

The sight hit me like a punch.
Broken frames, glass everywhere, his bed overturned — everything smashed and torn. I immediately rushed towards her room. I opened the door. In the middle of the room, my Anamika. My fierce, unshakable, endlessly loyal Anamika, sitting on the bed with tears streaking her face, Ishika’s arm wrapped protectively around her shoulders.