A R V I

I stood there, unmoving, as his words sank into me like slow, piercing needles. My heart wasn’t beating normally it was erratic, confused, pulled in a dozen directions. Each truth he had just thrown at me hit like a collision, the kind that rearranges not just your body, but your soul. I stared at him, wide eyed, the floor beneath me turning unfamiliar, unstable, like the ground itself was rethinking whether I deserved to stand on it.

He had been there all along. Every step I took thinking I was alone, every breath I believed I had fought for in isolation he had been watching. Guiding. Shielding. Loving. From afar. My throat felt like it was closing up, thick with disbelief and unshed tears. I wanted to scream. To fall apart. But all I could do was breathe shallowly and look at him, this man who had once broken me and now was stitching the past together with trembling hands and shattered confessions.

I didn’t know what hit harder the fact that he’d holding my life quietly like some guardian, or the reality that he’d watched our daughter grow from behind curtains of guilt. I remembered every dark night I curled up, arms wrapped around Vanisha, whispering that we were alone, that we had no one.

And all along he was there. Not near. But never gone. The jobs, the gifts, the doctor he had built every piece of the fragile world I thought I had scraped together with bleeding hands. Rage twisted inside me, confused by the tenderness pooling in my chest. I should’ve hated him. But I couldn’t. Because the truth is, part of me had been waiting. For this moment. For this confession. For the man I loved to come back not perfect, not unscathed, but real. And he had.

And then, when he looked at me, eyes heavy with a grief we both wore like a second skin, he said it “It’s time we go home.”

That word.

Home.

It cut me open in a way nothing else could. My lips parted, and I shook my head almost violently.

“No,” I whispered, but it came out sharper, louder. “I can’t go back to that place. That house, Rayaan... it threw us out. It spat us into the world like we were filth. Your mother looked me in the eye and told me I took her daughter. Do you know what that does to a person? To stand in a house you gave everything to, and be told you’re the stain on the walls?”

His eyes darkened, but he didn’t interrupt. He just listened. And when he stepped closer, something in his gaze shifted. Gentler now. Less fire, more ache.

“Then we won’t go back there,” he said quietly. “We’ll go home, Arvi. Ours. Not the mansion. Not theirs. Just us.”

My breath caught. For the first time in years, I didn’t feel like I was being dragged I felt like I was being offered a hand. Not a command. A promise.

He turned away and motioned for me to follow him. I did. Slowly. My legs felt numb but my chest was full of something I hadn’t known in a long, long time hope. We entered a room at the back of the building, one I hadn’t even noticed existed. And then I saw her.

Vanisha.

My baby girl.

Sleeping soundly in the softest bed I’d ever seen. Her tiny form curled into the covers, her breathing steady and sweet. The moment sucked the air out of my lungs. I staggered forward, a sob catching in my throat. And then I saw Sofi sitting nearby, silent and alert. She stood when she saw Rayaan and bowed slightly.

“Sir. Duty done.”

He gave her a respectful nod. “Thank you.”

She walked out quietly, and for a second, I saw her not as a private investigator, but as the woman who had cared for my daughter like her life depended on it. I smiled through the tears that blurred my vision, overwhelmed by the sheer force of everything around me.

Rayaan stepped forward, and I watched him bend down beside Vanisha, brushing a soft kiss on her forehead. My chest clenched at the sight. He looked at her like she was his entire world because she was. Because she always had been.

“She’s safe now,” he murmured, turning to me. “She’s always been safe.”

I nodded slowly, the tears finally spilling free again. And then I walked over, stood beside him, and looked down at our daughter our miracle. She was sleeping, unaware that the war we had both fought separately might finally be ending.

And I knew then, with a certainty that reached deeper than bone, deeper than history, that maybe this time… we’d build a new home.

Not made of walls or names.

But of us.

We sat on the floor, just outside the room where Vanisha slept like a star cradled by the night. The lights were dim, and everything around us was silent except my heart, which hadn’t slowed since the moment he brought me here.

I curled my knees to my chest, arms wrapped around them, while he sat beside me, not touching, not pressing, just there. The weight of the years we lost sat between us like a fog neither of us could speak through. Until I did.

“You know,” I whispered, my voice a thread unraveling, “there were days when I didn’t think I’d make it.”

He didn’t move. Didn’t interrupt. Just listened.

“I used to wait until Vanisha fell asleep, and then I’d cry like a child,” I said, my eyes locked on the far wall. “Crying in front of her felt like weakness, and I had to be strong. For her. But when the nights got too long and I had nothing but the sound of her breathing… it would all pour out.”

Rayaan’s breath hitched softly. Still silent. But I knew he was listening with every part of him.

“I felt invisible,” I continued, my voice thick. “Alone in ways that didn’t have names. Some days I didn’t even know if I was alive or just moving because I had to. You were gone. Your family threw me out like I was the enemy. I couldn’t even mourn properly, Rayaan. I was too busy surviving. For her.”

I turned then, finally, and looked at him.

His face… God, his face was a map of guilt and grief. Eyes rimmed with emotion he didn’t know how to express. But still, not a single word passed his lips. Because he knew. This moment wasn’t for him to defend  it was for me to empty.

“I kept telling myself you hated me,” I said, a bitter laugh escaping. “That maybe you believed them. That I was the reason she died. And every time I thought that, it killed something in me.”

Silence.

And then, he reached out  slow, hesitant and took my hand.

We didn’t speak again after that. We just sat. Hand in hand. Breathing. Healing.

And sometime in the middle of the night, I must have drifted off.

Because when I woke up… I wasn’t on the floor anymore.

I was in his arms. My head on his chest. His heartbeat beneath my cheek like a lullaby I never knew I missed. His arms were strong and steady around me, holding me as if letting go wasn’t an option. His shirt was wrinkled beneath my cheek, and the room was filled with the soft light of morning.

I blinked up at him, my voice groggy and raw.

“Did we sleep like this?”

His lips twitched into a soft smile, and he nodded once. “Hmm. I didn’t want to disturb my wife.”

That word again. Wife. It sent shivers through me, but this time… the good kind.

Before I could reply, I felt a little tug at my side.

“Mumma?”

I turned and there she was. Vanisha. Awake. Rubbing her eyes with tiny fists.

She looked up at Rayaan, confusion spreading across her face. “Mumma… who is he?”

Rayaan’s body tensed briefly, then softened as he leaned forward just enough to meet her eye-level. His voice was low, tender.

“I’m your dad.”

Something magical happened in that moment. Her eyes widened, a second of stillness then she gasped and launched herself into his arms.

“You came!” she cried, her little arms wrapping around his neck. “We missed you, Dad! I missed you so much! I was always waiting for you to come!”

“I missed you too, my princess, now you dont have to wait, I came for my princess.”

My throat closed up watching them  like all the missing pieces had finally found each other.

Rayaan hugged her tightly, burying his face in her hair. “I was away on a trip, princess. But I’m back now. And I’m not going anywhere.”

She nodded, like she understood the kind of promise that didn’t need proof. Her small smile lit up the entire room.

And in that moment

For the first time in five years

It truly felt like home.

I was still soaking in the sight at them. Rayaan with Vanisha in his arms, her laughter echoing like the childhood I always wanted for her, and him… just being there.

The way his eyes softened when he looked at her made something tighten inside my chest something I hadn’t dared to feel in years.

Hope.

But then he stood, his voice quiet but firm. “Get ready. Both of you. We’re leaving.”

I blinked. “Leaving?”

He nodded, adjusting Vanisha gently against his shoulder. “For Mumbai. I’ve already booked everything.”

The word Mumbai hit like a thunderclap. I stood frozen, my heartbeat starting to race. That city… that mansion… those memories. I felt the air shift, the floor beneath me no longer solid. I swallowed hard and looked away.

“I… I don’t want to go.” The words slipped out before I could stop them. My voice barely above a whisper.

But he heard me.

In two long strides, he was in front of me, his free arm wrapping around my waist and pulling me close. My body stiffened at first out of habit, out of fear but then something in me surrendered. Maybe it was the way his heartbeat felt steady against mine. Maybe it was the way Vanisha’s fingers were tangled in his collar like she belonged there.

“Arvi,” he murmured, pressing his forehead to mine, “I’m with you, I won’t let anything or anyone hurt you ever again.”

My eyes welled, and I hated how much I wanted to believe him.

“I don’t think I’m strong enough to face all of them again,” I whispered.

“You don’t have to be,” he said, cupping my cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear.

And for the first time, I let myself rest in his embrace. Not just my body my fears, my doubts, my ache. Everything.

He stepped back, gave me a small, warm nod. “Go pack. I’ve already got Vanisha’s things. We’ll leave in an hour.”

I turned without a word and went to gather what little I had. As I zipped the bag shut, my heart felt like it was packed in there too heavy, fragile, unsure.

But when I stepped out and saw him holding our daughter, smiling gently, waiting for me at the door

Maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t walking into fire. Maybe I was finally walking home, my home, Our home.

A/N

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