Arvi's pov:

The next morning, sunlight spilled through the curtains, far too bright for how heavy my heart felt.

I sat up slowly, eyes swollen, throat dry. My body ached from crying, but I couldn’t sit in that space anymore. Not today.

Because today I had to face Vivaan.

I had to tell him the truth.

I splashed cold water on my face, pulled my hair back, and forced myself downstairs.

The living room buzzed with soft chatter. Choti Maa, Chote Papa, and Maa Papa were sitting with their morning tea. Arekha Vanisha Aleesha were scrolling through their phones, whispering and laughing.

Everyone looked… normal.

And for a moment, I envied that. That simple peace.

But my eyes searched for one face.

Vivaan.

He stood by the window, alone, staring outside with a blank expression. A cup in his hand, untouched.

Something in my chest tugged.

This wasn’t the cheerful, cheeky Vivaan I knew.

He was quiet. Guarded. Off.

And I knew I couldn’t delay it anymore.

I had to tell him what I knew what Nia told me.

I walked toward him, each step feeling heavier than the last. My heart pounded, but I forced a soft smile.

“Vivaan,” I said gently, stopping beside him.

He turned slowly, his eyes tired. “Bhabhi.”

“I need to talk to you,” I said, keeping my voice low. “Privately.”

He looked at me for a moment, then gave a slight nod. “Come.”

We walked to the garden, away from the others.

The air was still.

I turned to face him, my voice steady despite the nerves twisting in my stomach. “About the girl you love…”

His jaw tightened.

“Vi....Vivaan she doesn’t love you back,” I said softly. “Nia told me last night. She flirts, but… she never meant it that way. I’m so sorry.”

Silence.

Then, Vivaan let out a long, shuddering breath and looked up at the sky.

“I kind of knew,” he said quietly. “I just didn’t want it to be true.”

My heart ached for him. “You deserve someone who sees you. Who loves you completely.”

He gave a sad smile. “Like you love Rayaan bhai?”

I froze.

The words cut through the morning air like a blade.

Vivaan didn’t say more. Just turned and walked back toward the house, leaving me standing there, heart pounding all over again.

I stepped into the living room, just as Vivaan’s voice rang out.

“I want to get married next month,” he said clearly, confidently. “Call Bhai. Tell him to come back. We need to start planning.”

The room froze for a second.

And then chaos.

“What?” Vanisha almost choked on her tea. “Acha? This is how you announce something so huge? Just like that?”

Sulekha Maa narrowed her eyes. “Vivaan, what’s the rush? Marriage is not a college assignment you can just submit in thirty days.”

“Beta,” Chote Papa added, setting his newspaper down, “do you even know what you’re saying? Shaadi next month? Tumhein kya laga, shaadi mandap Amazon pe milta hai?”

Vivaan only smiled, shrugging. “I’ve made up my mind.”

Arekha pretended to faint onto the couch. “You’re serious? You? The guy who once backed out of a date because it was raining?”

Aleesha gasped. “This is not a drill, people. Vivaan Oberoi wants to get married!”

Choti Maa just beamed, already pulling her phone out. “Good! I’ll start checking mahurats. You kids think we oldies can’t arrange things quickly?”

The laughter, the teasing it filled the room.

But I didn’t laugh.

Because my eyes were fixed on Vivaan.

He was smiling. Laughing even.

But his eyes...

His eyes told a different story.

A story of hurt. Of escape. Of trying too hard to look like he was okay.

And my heart clenched.

He was doing this for the wrong reason.

He was running.

From his feelings.

From me.

And in that moment, I knew I couldn’t stay silent anymore.

I closed the door behind me, the soft click somehow louder than anything else in the house. My room felt too quiet, too still. Like it was waiting for me to fall apart.

I sat down on the edge of the bed, clutching my phone like it could save me from everything I didn’t want to feel. My fingers moved on their own, opening Rayaan’s chat, his name like a weight on my chest.

Vivaan is not okay

I typed it before I could stop myself.

Then stared at it.

Deleted it.

I need to talk to you, its important.

Backspace.

I dropped the phone onto the bed and buried my face in my hands. Why was this so hard? Why couldn’t I just tell him what was happening?

I missed him. So much. More than I thought possible. And for once, I didn’t want to be strong. I didn’t want to carry all of this alone. Not when Vivaan was hurting. Not when I could see him breaking a little more every day.

I reached for the phone again, desperate for anything to ground me. This time I typed:

I dont know what to do anymore, Come back not for me but for Vivaan.

The words blinked back at me like they were too honest.

Too raw.

And just like that… I erased them too.

I stared at the empty screen, the silence of the room crawling up my spine. It felt like I was standing at the edge of something I didn’t understand. Something that terrified me.

I tossed the phone aside and hugged my knees, my chest tightening.

I didn’t know what to do.

I couldn’t tell Rayaan.

And I couldn’t watch Vivaan crumble either.

So where did that leave me?

Alone. Again.

And somehow… it hurt more now than it ever did before.

I held the railing tightly as I made my way down the stairs, each step feeling heavier than the last. My head was spinning, thoughts tangled Vivaan’s words, Nia’s truth, Rayaan’s absence. It was all too much.

My vision blurred for a moment. I blinked rapidly, trying to steady myself.

Keep walking, Arvi. Just a few more steps.

But everything around me started to tilt. The sounds in the living room became distant echoes. I could hear laughter… teasing… Vanisha’s voice maybe. Chote Papa’s chuckle.  Maa saying something. But I couldn’t make out the words.

Suddenly, the ground didn’t feel stable anymore.

My grip on the railing loosened.

And then

Darkness.

I heard someone scream my name, maybe Vanisha, The sharp gasp of  Maa. A thud my body hitting the steps and chaos exploded around me.

“Arviiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii”

But I couldn’t respond. Couldn’t even open my eyes.

I was slipping further, into something quiet. And all I wanted in that moment… was Rayaan.

Authors pov:

The corridor outside the operation room was heavy with grief and fear, every second stretching unbearably.

Vanisha stood frozen, tears streaming freely down her cheeks. She kept murmuring “Bhabhii…” over and over, like a chant, her voice trembling with every word. Sulekha wrapped her arms around her, trying to steady her, though her own face was wet with tears too. Her stoic strength had cracked this wasn’t just her daughter-in-law, this was her child.

Aleesha sat on the bench with her head in her hands, sobbing softly. Arekha leaned against her shoulder, crying too, her eyes swollen and red. “She was fine in the morning… she smiled at me… why didn’t we notice something was wrong?” she whispered, over and over.

Shankar turned away for a moment, brushing his hand over his face, trying to compose himself but his eyes glistened too. Even he, the calmest of them all, couldn’t hide the weight of this moment.

Vivaan still hadn’t moved. He stood staring at the doors, lips pressed tightly together, eyes glassy. The guilt in his eyes now mixed with helplessness, and something deeper heartbreak.

The entire Oberoi family was breaking in slow motion, all holding on to each other, whispering prayers, fearing the worst as the doors to the operation room stayed shut.

And still… no one had called Rayaan.

Arekha’s voice cracked as she spoke again, the weight of the situation settling on her like a storm. “We should call Bhai,” she said, her words almost desperate. “He has to know what’s happening. Arvi needs him. We all need him.”

Her statement hung in the air, and for a moment, no one responded. The room had been silent for so long, as if they were all waiting for someone to break the stillness and take action. But the reality was too much for all of them to handle Rayaan had to be informed, whether they were ready for his arrival or not.

Vivaan, his face a mix of guilt and concern, nodded solemnly. “I’ll call him,” he said quietly, voice thick with emotion.

Sulekha wiped her tears, her face drawn with worry. She hadn’t said a word since Arekha spoke, but her expression conveyed everything. It was time.

“We can’t do this alone,” Sulekha murmured, looking at each of them in turn. “Call him, Vivaan. Now.”

Arekha reached for her phone, her fingers trembling, but Vivaan stepped in, his voice firm but gentle. “I’ll do it.”

And with that, the decision was made. The family would call Rayaan. The man who should have been there from the start.