Connected: A YHM Story (COMPLETED) - Page 35

What are u seriously? 😳

U can write a detailed scene of a play, U can pick up lines for a dental seminar, U have knowledge over everything under the sun😳. Seriously what are you? 😳. I am truly impressed😎

Reading ur story makes me feel like watching episode after episode and ur picking great stuff to fill the story, Adi-Raman-Ishita mobile talk was excellent I feel.

U wrote such a beautiful moral filled conversation between the trio, but serving alcohol at a child's birthday party is something I didn't feel right. I can give a long explanation but u will doze off😆.

So Subbu is here to spoil the honeymoon🤔

Or maybe for Ishita to show him that he is out of her system😛

Can't wait for the next part

Read part 60 only😒. Will read other parts soon😛

Originally posted by: --QUEEN--

What are u seriously? 😳

U can write a detailed scene of a play, U can pick up lines for a dental seminar, U have knowledge over everything under the sun😳. Seriously what are you? 😳. I am truly impressed😎

Awwww.... Thank you!!! 😳🤗

I just happen to read a lot and consume lots of stories and fiction which is why I seem to have knowledge of many things. Plus, I'm in graduate school and a science geek which means I'm quite familiar with the research process and how women work in science field.

For the things that I don't know first-hand, I just spend 15-20 minutes doing some basic research on Wikipedia. That's what I did for the Swan Lake ballet/play. I actually don't know much about theater and drama.

Originally posted by: --QUEEN--

U wrote such a beautiful moral filled conversation between the trio, but serving alcohol at a child's birthday party is something I didn't feel right. I can give a long explanation but u will doze off😆.

I understand where you're coming from. Actually, I live in the US where, at every single party I've been to (as a child and adult both), there was always a bottle of wine around for adults. It's just part of the culture I think. And one glass of wine or one can of beer throughout the night didn't hurt anyone. Considering the Punjabi culture, I thought it would be okay to include. Like the adults nursing on a drink or two when they're sitting alone.

Sorry if I offended you. ❤️

Originally posted by: --QUEEN--

Can't wait for the next part

Read part 60 only😒. Will read other parts soon😛

Take your time dear. I'll be waiting to read your comments on the other parts of as well. Love you! 😊❤️

Part 61

Ishita blinked. And blinked again. And again. She couldn't believe her eyes. Was it really... him? Subbu?

It had been an eon since she had given that man any thought. So much so that she hadn't even realized how easy it was going to be for her to bump into him here. He was a practicing dentist in Chennai... Of course he'd be at this conference. It didn't even occur to her.

She had moved on. Truly. She had a husband who loved her beyond words; children she cherished more than the richest jewels; and a family who cared for her beyond measure. So why did the mere sight of this man cause her teeth to clench in resentment and her glare turn accusatory?

It's been a long time

And seeing the shape of your name

Still spells out pain

Raman's eyes widened in shock. His gaze bounced from his wife to the man in front of him, a million emotions passing over his face. Until now, he had only heard of Subbu, the man who had been foolish enough to dump a once-in-a-lifetime woman like Ishita over something so damn immaterial. But now, the name had a face to it, and his eyes rained their uninhibited disapproval and criticism on him.

Subbu gulped as he found himself the object of Raman and Ishita's piercing stares. He hadn't given Ishita another thought after the first few weeks of their breakup. There had been rare instances in the beginning of his marriage when he had compared Ragini to Ishita, pleased at how his wife kept her mouth shut around his mother, gratified at how willingly she had left her engineering career after Varun's birth. Life had gone on, leaving him no room for even the tiny inkling of guilt he initially carried.

It wasn't right

The way it all went down

Looks like you know that now

But now, his ex stood in front of him, her eyes glaring accusations at him. His mouth went dry as guilt reignited in his heart, and the air strung taut between them with awkwardness.

"Hi... Hi Ishu..." Subbu mumbled. Ishita's spine turned to an iron rod hearing him use her family nickname.

"How've you been?" he asked. "How are Bala Anna and Vandu Anni?"

Ishita cleared her throat, trying her best to mask her scorching glare and maintain some sense of civility. "I've been great, Subbu. Akka and jeeju are good too."

"I heard Anni was pregnant. How is her health? And how's the baby?"

"She and the baby are both doing good. Her due date is getting close. We should be hearing good news this month."

"That's great..."

Ishita sucked in an uncomfortable breath. All this small talk seemed both unimportant and unnecessary. Especially considering how much ugliness remained buried between them.

Yes, I got your letter

Yes, I'm doing better

"This is my husband, Raman Bhalla." She turned to her husband, an involuntary smile creeping up her lips. "CEO and business owner." Her previously small voice was infused with pride and love as she introduced her husband.

Raman extended his arm and shook Subbu's hand, gripping it with power and confidence and a hint of resentment. Subbu returned the gesture, discreetly biting his inner cheek at the painful twinge from such a firm handshake.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Bhalla," he croaked.

I wish I could say the same, Raman thought.

"The pleasure is mine, doc," he said instead.

Subbu pried his hand away and hid it in his pocket, wincing at the ache in the joints of his fingers. Meanwhile, Raman placed his hand on Ishita's lower back, gripping her waist possessively.

It cut deep to know ya

Right to the bone

"Shall we go, Ishita?" he asked.

Before she could answer however, commotion broke out behind them as a chaotic group of young doctors approached them.

"Subbu! Guess what Niranjan found across the street?" a woman yelled excitedly.

Ishita and Raman turned around at the chaos, and Ishita gasped as recognition dawned in her eyes.

"Kalpana?! Pravina?! Niranjan?! George?!" she exclaimed delightedly. It had been over two years since she had last met her friends from dental school.

"Oh... My... God!"

"Doth my eyes deceive me?"

"Ishita Iyer?!"

"The one and only!"

Laughter sounded out around the group as Ishita hugged her friends, one by one.

"It's actually Ishita Bhalla now," she corrected, chuckling with mirth. She gestured towards her husband and gently pulled him forward to introduce him. "My husband Raman Bhalla. CEO and one of the top business owners in the country," she beamed, proudly showing him off.

Raman shook their hands, barely hiding a shy smile at his wife's pride.

Yes, I got your letter

Yes, I'm doing better

"Wait, I think I've read about you," George mused, as he shook Raman's hand. "Didn't you give an interview in the Business Magazine? With your brother I think?" she asked.

"Oh yeah..." Raman nodded. "Mihir and I gave a brief interview for that magazine a few months back."

"It was a memorable interview, Mr. Bhalla. The perfect combination of wise and witty."

"I don't know whether I should be happy or sad right now," Kalpana interjected. "Happy that my friend here-" She draped her arm around Ishita's shoulder. "-landed such a hot millionaire, or sad that literally every single eligible bachelor in the country is going off the market. I'm legit the only single one in this group now," she pouted.

Ishita chuckled at her friend and Raman shook his head, hiding a covert blush.

"What about your brother?" Pravina asked. "Mihir you said, right?"

"Unfortunately he just got married a few months back. To Ishita's sister," Raman revealed.

Kalpana let go of Ishita's shoulder and threw her hands up in mock frustration. "Oh that's just great now, isn't it?"

"Why don't we put this dilemma of yours on the back burner for now and think about lunch instead?" Niranjan said sharply, raising an eyebrow at his friend. "I found a branch of Ratna's Café across the street. We were just coming to call you, Subbu."

"Ishita, why don't you join us? You too Raman?" Pravina suggested.

Ishita's eyes lighted up at the prospect of catching up with her old friends, but Subbu's presence was a strong deterrent.

I know that it's over

I don't need your closure

Your closure

"Come na Ishu?" Kalpana coaxed her. "I know you're a stickler for rules but it won't hurt to ditch the conference's boring lunch. Chalkar thodi yaadein taazaa karte hain na yaar?"

"Ishita," Raman turned to his wife and met her eyes. "Let's go. It'll be fun."

He could tell from her eyes just how much she wished to catch up with her friends. And truth be told, he himself was curious to find out what she was like in college. Maybe they could manage to ignore Subbu's presence like a scar on the moon.

"All right then," Ishita conceded. "Lead the way guys."

Their friends cheered lightly as they turned towards the side door and exited the building. Ishita walked with a spring in her step, chatting animatedly with Kalpana as she inquired about any other of Raman's brothers who were still single. Raman conversed with George about the latter's plan to go to back to school for an MBA and open his own practice.

Meanwhile, Subbu pressed his lips into a thin line and hid his hands awkwardly in his pockets. He kept sneaking sly glances at his ex, marveling at the confidence and joy radiating from her face. He had never seen her like this. Not in the ten years that he'd known her, and not even in the six years that they'd been together.

As they crossed the street, Raman turned his head sideways to look out for cars, and unknowingly caught Subbu curiously watching his wife out of the corner of his eye. A vertical line appeared between his eyebrows and he fisted his fingers, as a certain green-eyed beast reared its ugly head.

.....................................................................................................................

Ratna Café, Chennai – 12 pm

"Your daughter is so damn cute, Niranjan!" Pravina squealed as she swiped through photos of his toddler on his phone. "How old is she now?"

"She turns three in November," he answered, as the phone passed from Ishita to Kalpana to George to Subbu.

They stopped on a particular video of the little girl reciting a nursery rhyme, her mother occasionally correcting her mistakes.

"Kitna bolne lagi hai yeh?" Subbu chuckled. "She's saying entire poems now?! These kids are growing up too fast I tell you."

"The last time you met her was over a year ago, yaar!" Niranjan commented. "Of course she's grown up now. Even your son is a year old now, isn't he?"

Subbu nodded, handing his friend his phone back. "He turned one year old last month. I don't have any pictures on my phone though," he said quickly, recognizing Kalpana and Pravina's expectant looks. "It's mostly my wife who looks after him so she has most of his pictures on her phone."

He gave Ishita a discreet side-eye before continuing, "He's the biggest blessing of my life. I'd do anything to have him in my life. And I would never regret it one bit." That includes breaking up with you, Ishu. I hope you understand.

Uneasy shivers crawled over Ishita's skin and Raman breathed an angry exhale out of his nostrils. He found her hand under the table and held it lovingly, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles.

Don't treat me like some situation that needs to be handled

I'm fine with my spite and my tears and my beers and my candles

I can feel you smoothing me over

The conversation then meandered to Pravina's latest engagement party, as the group 'ooh-ed' and 'aah-ed' over pictures of her gor dhaana (engagement). She had been dating her longtime Gujarati boyfriend for almost four years now, waiting to tie the knot until he finished grad school. He had graduated two months ago and they were finally set to get married in December.

They had been going around the group, catching up on each of their lives and recounting recent life events, as they waited for their lunch orders in a large circular booth. George had detailed his move to Hyderabad with his wife and daughters. Niranjan and Subbu had talked about their toddler kids. Their lunch arrived just as Pravina finished regaling them with stories of planning a Tamilian/Gujarati wedding.

"We've been through the exact same thing," Ishita spoke up, gesturing between herself and her husband. "You cannot imagine the chaos that ensues when Madrasi and Punjabi mix."

They went on to narrate the best of their family's North and South clashes as the group dug into their lunch.

"Okay enough," Kalpana stopped them. "All of you." She pointed to every member of the group and scowled playfully. "Look at you guys, talking about your relationships and weddings and babies. Hum single logon par thoda toh taras khaao?"

Ishita bit her tongue. "Sorry yaar. We didn't mean to upset you."

"I'm not upset honestly..." Kalpana played with her noodles. "I'm just worried now. Like seriously. Ek bhi dhang ka ladka nahi mil raha mujhe," she complained.

"What happened to that guy you posted about on Insta?" Pravina asked. "I thought he was the one. In your caption, you said, and I quote, 'The Aditya to my Geet,'" she said, referencing her friend's favorite movie Jab We Met.

"Aditya, my foot," Kalpana grumbled. "Woh bhi Anshuman hi nikla."

"Don't worry yaar." Ishita rubbed her friend's forearm as a gesture of comfort. "If he left, he left for a reason. Life will bring the person you're meant to be with soon enough."

"Do you say that from experience?" Kalpana raised an eyebrow.

Ishita turned her head and met Raman's eyes. A loving smile mirrored on their faces. "Absolutely."

Yes, I got your letter

Yes, I'm doing better

"How did you guys even meet?" George asked between bites of medu vada. "I mean, how did you guys start?"

The group nodded and echoed his sentiments.

Ishita took a deep breath and chewed her lip, before deciding on a modified and omitted version of their story.

"Right after I moved to Delhi, Raman and his family moved to the flat in front of us. It all started there," she said.

"Was it love at first sight?" Kalpana asked.

"Absolutely not!" Ishita laughed.

"Anything but!" Raman replied. "The first time we met, she crashed her car into mine."

Ishita gasped. "I did not crash my car! It was your fault, and you know it," she said pointedly, narrowing her eyes, while the group laughed.

She went on to describe how she fell in love with his daughter Ruhi, causing her to get closer to Raman, eventually becoming the cause of their union. How Aditya joined their family soon after, making her a mother of two.

She set her spoon down and opened her photo app, showing pictures of Ruhi's latest dance recital and Adi's birthday party.

Subbu smiled tenously as Ishita dropped her phone in her purse and zipped it closed. The guilt and awkwardness that had bloomed in his chest when he ran into his ex now gave way to pity. Poor thing, he thought. She was now someone's second wife and someone's stepmother.

"It's nice to see you so happy, Ishu," he said, voice dripping with sweetness. "Your stepchildren seem really nice."

It cut deep to know ya

Right to the bone

Ishita's smile vanished and jaw clenched at his show of condescending politeness. How dare he? How dare he look down on the most important relationships of her life as if they were consolation prizes? Her nostrils flared in anger, but she kept her mouth shut so as not to ruin the easy dynamic of the group.

Raman, on the other hand, was unbothered of decorum and civility and manners. He wasn't going to let that arrogant man get away with hurting his wife. The moment Ishita's smile had disappeared, he had lost all care for the rest of the world.

"Not stepchildren, Subbu," he gritted out. "Adi and Ruhi are Ishita's children. This might be news to you, but blood is not the only thing that ties children to their mother. But neither you nor your mother could ever understand that, could you?"

Subbu's mouth went dry and he averted his eyes. Meanwhile, the rest of the group exchanged curious glances.

"Anyway..." Subbu cleared his throat to break the tension. "I'm surprised at how great this sambhaar is," he said, desperate to change the topic. "I haven't been to any branch of the Ratna Café since college but the taste is the exact same."

"True," George joined in. "Even this vada is the same taste."

"Damn, you still order the exact same thing, don't you? Medu vada and coconut chutney?"

Their conversation immediately switched gears, as they traveled down memory lane, reminiscing over their college memories.

"You beat me by like five votes, Subbu," Pravina insisted, as the topic of their college's student elections came up.

"It was more like fifty," he countered. "But whatever lets you sleep at night."

"I don't get why you're still on about this," Niranjan said. "Is baat ko saalon beet chuke hai."

"Because! I campaigned and made speeches and gave ideas about how to better the student experience. And this guy just won because of his popularity."

Subbu shook his head. "I campaigned too, all right? Ishu and I spent an entire weekend putting up posters and flyers. Remember, Ishu?" He craned his neck and looked at his ex.

I know I'm just a

Wrinkle in your new life

Raman tensed up at Subbu's attempt at friendliness towards his wife. The way he called Ishita by a nickname. The way he boasted about memories he had shared with her. Come to think of it, he had known her and even... loved her for much longer than he ever had. His fingers gripped his spoon tightly and he chewed his lip until he a coppery taste filled his mouth. He had drawn blood.

Meanwhile, Ishita breathed shakily with frustration at her ex's weak attempt to build bridges between them. How dare he sit there and act like they could just laugh about shared memories? When in reality, the last time they had been in the same room together, he had dumped her as if she was worth nothing? How dare he attempt to save face and show himself as this great guy who still wished well for his ex?

"Do you guys remember our farewell party?" she said, attempting to change the topic rather than validate Subbu's question with an answer. "The juniors put up such a great dance performance."

"Oh my god, I totally remember," Kalpana replied. "They put on such emotional songs. Even our professors cried. Including Professor Hitler."

"Hitler?" Raman asked, scrunching his eyebrows in confusion.

"She's talking about our general anatomy professor," Ishita clarified. "He was the strictest teacher we had."

"And Ishita was the only student in our class who had the courage to face him one-on-one," Kalpana revealed. "I remember when she had argued about a mistake on one of the question papers and gotten all of us an extra two marks!"

"Damn Ishita," Raman said. "Iska matlab tum humesha se Jhansi ki Rani rahi ho?"

"Jhansi ki Rani?" Kalpana asked.

"He calls me that for whenever I get... khatarnaak I guess," she laughed. "It's just that if I know that I'm right about something, then I don't back down."

"Do you guys remember how that day ended? All the pranks our juniors pulled?" George reminded. "Every door in the clinic building was labelled 'Please Use Other Door.' I went round and round the floor for almost ten minutes before realizing it was a prank."

"That wasn't all," Pravina revealed. "For those of us who were waiting on answers for whether we got an internship or not, they mailed us envelopes full of glitter. Almost every classroom and hallway was covered in pink and gold glitter."

"They got even more creative for me," Ishita revealed. "A couple boys left roses and notes in my locker saying they had a crush on me. I think that was the cruelest prank honestly," she chuckled.

Pravina and Kalpana exchanged glances. "Ishu, we said this then, and we're saying this now. Those guys actually had a crush on you."

"No they didn't," she insisted. "It was a prank."

"Um... Actually Ishu," Subbu interrupted, "I just convinced you it was a prank at the time. I think those notes were real."

Ishita's jaw dropped in horror. "What?!"

"I mean, you were my girlfriend then. I couldn't afford losing you to a couple junior wierdos now, could I?" he laughed, shrugging his shoulders indifferently.

Staying friends

Would iron it out so nice

Ishita stared at her ex, extremely perturbed. The fact that he had so easily changed the narrative and manipulated her into believing a lie unnerved her. She probably wouldn't have entertained those proposals either way, but the fact that she had been manipulated so easily scared her. The fact that he had manipulated her so easily scared her.

Raman breathed in a sharp inhale, as the green-eyed beast roared within his chest. How popular was his wife back in college? Subbu had been in love with her, two other boys had a crush on her, and even Mani was interested at one point. He recalled how Ishita had joked a while back about boys from her college being interested in her, and the mere mention of it had caused him to go off his rocker. Listening to actual stories though, was much more enraging.

He interlocked his fingers with his wife's hand underneath the table and gripped it. Hard.

"Funny how life works huh, Subbu?" Raman spat out before he could stop himself. "You still lost her."

"That is another question we have. How did that happen, Subbu?" Kalpana said, broaching a sensitive subject. "I mean, don't get me wrong. As long as you're both happy – which clearly you both are – then we're happy. But it's just confusing. You guys were together for six years. We even got your wedding invitations. And then snap, Subbu gets married to someone else, Ishita moves to Delhi, and even she gets married to someone else. Like, how?"

"Mutual differences," Subbu was quick to say, trying his best to save face. "We just... um... we wanted different things in life."

He sent Ishita a tenuous smile, hoping she wouldn't make a scene, guilt now eating away at his heart.

Guilty, guilty reaching out across the sea

That you put between you and me

But Ishita had had enough. She was sick of this man acting like he held the moral high ground, acting like they were still on good terms, acting like it was all water under the bridge, when he hadn't even had enough courtesy to apologize to her.

"Yeah, we wanted different things in life," she said bitterly. "I wanted a life partner who would always have my back, while he wanted a mute baby-making machine. His mom didn't approve of a personal health condition of mine, so he dumped me in front of our families, three weeks after I had a life-threatening surgery.

"I don't know if you got what you wanted or not Subbu, but I certainly did." She set her and Raman's interlocked hands out on the table and sent him a loving, appreciative glance. "Is it okay if we leave now, Raman?"

He nodded in response. "Yes, absolutely." The sooner, the better.

The table went silent as everyone stared at Subbu in shock, who in turn rolled his eyes and shook his head disapprovingly. "Ishu, did you really have to make a scene here? Can't we talk later about this?" he muttered.

"It's Ishita for you," she answered. "Or better yet, Dr. Bhalla. And no, we can't talk later about this. In fact, I'd rather never talk to you again."

But it's fake

And it's oh so unnecessary

Both Raman and Ishita stood up and exited the booth.

"I'm sorry to leave like this guys," Ishita said, "but we really should get going. It was great to catch up with you all."

She gave Kalpana and Pravina one last hug and shook hands with George and Niranjan. Raman waved them all goodbye with a polite smile, before leaving with his wife. They exited the restaurant and headed back to the dentistry symposium for the evening session. They walked in complete silence, her saree and his coat fluttering in the wind.

Ishita's face was screwed up in irritation and renewed bitterness. All her unresolved negativity and hurt and pain had resurfaced, muddying the seemingly clear waters of her mind and her life. But she couldn't dwell on it anymore. After all, it had all worked out, hadn't it? She was married to a man who loved her more than anyone had ever loved her, to a man that was a thousand-fold better than her ex. So why did his reappearance send her emotions into mayhem?

Raman sent his wife cautious glances as they crossed the street. She had become so quiet, as if becoming drawn into herself. And he was mad. Mad at Subbu for the way he had hurt such a gem of a woman. Mad at Ishita for letting such a lowlife get to her, when she was supposedly in love with him, her husband. He had a feeling that she was slipping away from his fingers, and it terrified him.

A silent shudder rolled through his back as he tentatively wrapped his fingers around hers, relieved when she tightened her own grip around him.

Yes, I got your letter

Yes, I'm doing better

It cut deep to know ya

Right to the bone

Yes, I got your letter

Yes, I'm doing better

I know that it's over

I don't need your closure, closure

Your closure

Your closure

https://youtu.be/AIFnKqIeEdY

.....................................................................................................................

Annual Dentistry Symposium, Chennai – a few hours later, 5 pm

"So... what is this talk about?" Raman whispered to his wife in the audience.

"The title says 'Equity, Diversity, & Inclusion in Science.' I think it's about creating opportunities in science and making it inclusive," she explained. "But I'm not sure."

"You're not sure?" He quirked an eyebrow. "Then why are we here?"

"Because this talk is by my favorite professor, Renuka ma'am. And I really want to meet her after this."

"Oh... I see."

"I haven't met her in almost... five or even six years," she mused. "You know, I think I was her favorite student that year. Don't tell anyone though."

"Why not?"

"Because technically, teachers aren't supposed to have favorites," she chuckled.

Raman smiled at his wife's giggles, happy to see her good mood return. Neither of them had forgotten the morning's events but at least the initial shock and negativity had subsided.

The presentation began shortly. It was an engaging talk on a rather interesting topic. Despite her age, Renuka spoke clearly and loudly, dominating over the room with confidence. She talked about her own experience as well as her work to increase opportunities for underrepresented groups in science and research.

When the talk ended and Renuka climbed down the stage, Ishita immediately approached her, Raman at her heels.

"Hi Renuka ma'am!" She gave a slight wave. "It's Ishita. You might remember me as Ishita Iyer...?" she asked tremulously.

Renuka scrunched her eyebrows for a moment before realization dawned upon her and her eyes popped out of their sockets.

"Ishita! Yes, yes! Of course, I remember!" She stepped forward and wrapped her favorite student in a hug. "How have you been dear?" she asked, pulling back. "I haven't seen you around in so long."

"I've been great ma'am," Ishita replied. "I actually live in Delhi now, so maybe that's why you haven't seen me."

"You moved to Delhi?"

"Yes, I work as a pediatric dentist at the Batra Medical Center."

"That's incredible. I'm so proud of you, beta."

"And this is my husband, Raman Bhalla." She gestured towards her husband, who promptly shook the professor's hand.

"Are you a dentist too?" she asked.

"No ma'am. I'm not that smart," he chuckled.

"He's even smarter," Ishita interjected. "He's the owner of one of the topmost business of this country."

"Impressive..." Suddenly, Renuka's eyes widened and she gasped. "Wait! This means you didn't marry your college boyfriend!" she exclaimed. "What was his name...? Subbu!"

Ishita's spine stiffened and Raman's muscles tensed up. They had barely gotten over their encounter with him this morning. Did she really have to remind them of him again?

But what she said next, they could never have predicted.

"Ishita dear, I am so so glad you didn't marry him!" she laughed, sighing in relief. "I always thought you and him wouldn't work out."

Raman and Ishita blinked and exchanged surprised glances. A bright smile formed on Raman's face, and he shook Renuka's hand vigorously.

"Ma'am, for that comment alone, you're my favorite person in this whole place!" he exclaimed.

Ishita raised an eyebrow at him and crossed her arms across her chest, causing Raman to quickly amend his statement.

"I mean, apart from my wife, you're my favorite person in this whole place," he chuckled.

Their conversation wound from Ishita's booming career to Raman's work to Renuka's newest initiatives and research projects as a professor. When their conversation came to an end, Raman and Ishita turned to leave, but Ishita couldn't walk away without clearing up one last confusion in her head.

"Raman, you go ahead," she said. "I just have to talk with ma'am for a minute."

"Everything okay?" he asked.

"Yeah yeah, everything's fine. Just a question I have."

"Okay."

Raman walked out the exit while Ishita turned back to her professor for one last question.

"Ma'am? Why did you think Subbu and I wouldn't have worked?" she asked. She was more than happy to not be associated with him anymore, but it truly surprised her that someone had predicted they weren't meant to be that early on.

"Do you wish it would have worked?" Renuka asked.

"No no, not at all!" Ishita replied quickly. "Raman is... He's the best partner I could have asked for. I'm just genuinely curious. Hardly anyone in my life thought Subbu and I wouldn't work out. Even I didn't see it coming. So how did you...?"

"Ishita look... I'll be completely honest with you," Renuka began. "In all these years as a college professor, I've learned not to judge young relationships. The entire world could be rooting for a couple and they don't work out. Two unlikely people can come together and end up having a marriage that lasts forty years. So I try not to give any personal commentary on my students' relationships."

"I understand ma'am, but I'm not your student anymore, am I? Please ma'am. Bataayiye na?"

"Well, in your case, I think it was the tiny things that made me think it wouldn't work for you both. Mainly, I just thought that you deserved better. It always seemed like you were doing things for him, changing your schedule, and bending over backwards for him. And not only did he never reciprocate those actions, he didn't even value them. I saw you cancel plans for him, choosing to meet him over your friends, and just... doing lots of things for him. But he never seemed to care. It just looked like he didn't love you as much you loved him."

The wheels turned in Ishita's brain, and she saw her past memories through a whole new lens. Her relationship with Subbu flashed through her mind and so many pieces of the puzzle clicked together. The way he had dumped her came as a surprise, but now she saw all the little things that should have told her much earlier that she deserved better. The way he used empty words and gifts rather than real actions to show his care. The way he manipulated and gaslighted her at even the simplest matters. The way he had loved her for what she could provide rather than her as an individual.

"See Ishita," Renuka continued, "I don't believe in destiny or soulmates or two people being 'meant to be.' I've seen too much in life to believe in any of that. The truth is, there is no rhyme or reason to what brings two people together. All that matters is both parties put in equal effort. It never works when one person in a relationship puts more efforts than the other. And with Subbu, it was clear that you were putting in more effort. Much more effort."

"And you think Raman puts in as much effort as I do? He loves me as much as I love him?" Ishita knew without a doubt that it was true, but she was curious to know how her professor had figured it out.

"Yes, I think so."

"How? You've only known him for a few minutes at most."

Renuka smiled. "Because... I've seen the way he looks at you when you're not looking."

Ishita's heart pounded. "And how's that?"

What Renuka said next caused her heart to spin out of control.

"He looks at you like you're a breath of fresh air. Like you're his moon and sun and stars all wrapped in one. Like you're the center of his cosmos."

.....................................................................................................................

Annual Dentistry Symposium, Chennai – the next day, Sunday, September 2nd, 6 pm

"How much longer is this going to take?" Raman groaned.

"Raman, I already said you didn't have to attend today's talks. I know these must be boring you," Ishita replied.

"It's not the talks that bother me. They're actually quite interesting. It's these periods of waiting that frustrate me."

"It should start any minute now. And it's the last one of the entire conference. After that, there's the social and wrap-up party which you'll enjoy a lot more."

"Does that mean there'll be alcohol?"

"No. It means there'll be free alcohol."

Raman and Ishita chuckled together, as the mike sounded on the stage and the last presentation began. The topic was something about regenerative dentistry. While Ishita listened attentively, Raman struggled to focus on the presenter. He could only handle so much science in a span of two days. He had reached his limit.

More than the talks and presentations however, it was the looming shadow of his wife's ex that had him on edge. They had been fortunate enough not to run into him again after yesterday's lunch, even as they had attended Ishita's friends' presentations.

Despite the sour taste left in their mouths from Subbu's comments over lunch, Raman was pleased to see Ishita's mood brighten up after her chat with her professor last evening. He, on the other hand, not so much. An irrational, unexplainable anger had lighted up in his heart, and he didn't know how to deal with it.

"And that's a wrap on our annual dentistry conference, everyone!"

Applause broke out as the final session ended, and Raman was rudely jerked awake from his musings.

"Thank you to everyone for attending our conference and making it such a success," the announcer continued. "A massive thank you to our sponsors once again. And congratulations to our award winners for this year. Be sure to collect your plaques before you leave."

Chuckles and laughs broke out from the audience, while Raman rolled his eyes at the pun.

"Please be sure to attend our departmental social this evening in the main banquet hall. It begins at seven and will continue until ten tonight. We hope to see you there!"

Raman and Ishita stood up from their seats and headed to their hotel for a quick dinner and change of clothes before returning to the conference site for the wrap party.

.....................................................................................................................

Main Banquet Hall, Department Social/Wrap Party – two hours later, 8 pm

Music sounded from the speakers and waiters served drinks and appetizers as dentists, medical students, and dignitaries intermingled with each other. Everyone had gotten out of their formal wear and into casual dresses and jeans for the social, donning their party personalities instead of their usual professional and scholarly roles.

At the moment, Ishita was engaged in a conversation with Niranjan, Kalpana, and an aspiring student dentist while Raman nursed a neat whiskey. It was an unusual social setting for him. In the past five-six years, he had mastered the art of taking over the room, owing to his charisma, exceptional storytelling, and witty humor.

But he seemed to be having an off day today. None of his jokes were working, eliciting blank stares from the crowd other than his wife. On the other hand, he cringed at many of the dentists' jokes, most of them being corny puns and riddles. It was unnerving for him to be in a social setting where he couldn't find his footing.

"I'm just going to get another drink," Raman whispered in Ishita's ear before stepping away for a breath.

Before he could get any further however, his wife's grip on his forearm stopped him.

"Are you okay, Raman?" Ishita asked. "Agar aapko sab ke beech ajeeb lag raha hai toh hum nikal sakte hain. Hotel waapis chalte hai," she suggested.

Raman sighed and peered at her lovingly. He recalled how many of his parties and functions she had attended and been by his side despite her awkwardness and estrangement from the business circle. He could get through one more night in the company of science geeks. It was the least he could do.

"I'm fine madrasan," he insisted. "I'm just going to get a refill, and I'll be right back. This is my first time finding out so much about you. I wouldn't miss it for the world."

He winked at her playfully before walking towards the bar and plopping down on an empty stool.

"Barkeep, neat whiskey please." Raman slid his glass across the counter, which the bartender effortlessly caught. He poured him a drink and handed it back to him.

"Thanks."

Raman took a sip of his whiskey and turned in his seat so his wife would be in his line of vision. She wore an elegant black column dress with full sleeves, her hair tied up in low bun. She was absolutely in her element, gracefully showcasing her intellect and knowledge, while simultaneously listening to the youngsters' ideas and the elderly's experience. He was honored to have such a learned woman as his partner.

He idly turned his glass in his hand, as his thoughts meandered to the events of the past two days. He had heard so much about her life as a professional dentist as well as her college life. He mused what their relationship would've been like if he had met her earlier in life. If they had had a sweet and cute courtship under the blush of first love rather than having to heal from past heartache and trauma.

He was eternally grateful for the year he had spent with her, and he looked forward to the many years to come. But even so, his mind couldn't help but wonder about her past. How she had so many memories with someone other than him. And that too with Subbu no less. He gulped another swig of whiskey and it scorched his throat.

Realization finally dawned on him as he realized why he had been gripped with such an irrational, unexplainable anger. It was jealousy, he realized. He had grown to be so used to Ishita's presence, become so possessive of her, that the mere thought of her being with someone else was enough to burn him from the inside out. He wanted every piece of her. He wanted to share every memory of her life. And it irritated him to no end that Subbu had shared such intimate memories with her.

He unknowingly thought of Subbu, of Mani, of the two boys that he had heard had a crush on her. She could have so easily been linked to someone else. Two years ago, she had planned to get engaged to Subbu. Over a year ago, she had received a proposal from Mani. The thought of her being with anyone else but him caused him to shudder with rage. Involuntarily, he slid his empty glass across the counter.

"Would you like a refill, sir?" the bartender asked.

Raman shook his head in the negative. "Two drinks is my limit tonight. Just hand me a can of diet coke if you have one."

"Sure." The bartender grabbed a can of diet coke from the mini-fridge and opened it before placing it in front of him. "Anything on your mind, sir?"

"A lot of things," Raman laughed bitterly.

"You wanna talk about it? You'd be surprised how much wisdom us bartenders can offer."

"Well then oh wise one... Tell me this. Why does life give us pain at every single turn? Even in the happiest, most beautiful moments, why must there be even a pinch of pain?"

The bartender chuckled. "You know sir, my grandma used to say. God gives us pain for one purpose and one purpose only. So that we understand those who have gone through something similar. Without pain, we would become ignorant."

Raman brought the can of diet coke to his mouth, but its ascent stopped as understanding washed over him like a bucket of ice water.

"Damn. You really are wise," he whispered in shock. He barely heard the bartender chuckle as his mind whirred at warp speed.

How could he have not thought about this? How could he feel jealous of Subbu, a man his wife had simply dated, when he himself had shared memories with another woman before Ishita came into his life? In fact, his memories with Shagun were much more intimate than the ones Ishita had shared with Subbu. They had been married and had two kids, for god's sakes! He couldn't even handle Subbu's presence for two days. How must have Ishita felt throughout their marriage, with his ex Shagun putting up roadblocks in front of her?

He shook his head, utterly disappointed at himself. The thought of Ishita being married to anyone else but him had made him burn with jealousy. So how must she have felt knowing that he had actually been married to someone else in the past?

But even despite all that, they had found each other, he thought. They may not have had the good fortune to make memories in the past, but they had an entire future together... to make new memories. A smile crept up his lips as the fire in his chest slowly abated. He set down the can of coke and stood up from his stool, eager to get back to his wife.

But the sight that greeted him reignited the flames of jealousy within his heart. For his wife stood in front of her ex, smiling wider than he had seen her smile in the last two days.

.....................................................................................................................

Ten minutes ago

Ishita watched her husband walk to the bar, sending his retreating figure a wary glance. He had winked at her and insisted to stay back for her, but she could tell he felt out of place. As grateful as she was for his thoughtful gesture, she resolved to leave within the next twenty minutes. Besides, her own social battery was running out too.

"I'll see you guys later. It was so great meeting you guys!" The student they were speaking with waved them goodbye and left to meet her friends, leaving Ishita with Niranjan and Kalpana.

"Your presentation was superb today, Kalpana," Ishita said. "I didn't have a chance to tell you earlier but that was amazing work."

"Why thank you." Kalpana took a dramatic bow as Niranjan gave mock applause.

"By the way Ishita, I was meaning to ask-" Niranjan turned to his other friend, "-are you doing okay after yesterday's lunch?"

"I'm fine," Ishita replied curtly, uneager to broach the topic.

"Oh yeah..." Kalpana's face turned serious. "Ishita, we had no idea so much happened between you too. Otherwise we would never have insisted you join us with him there. It's just that... I mean he always gave us the impression that you guys broke up mutually. It was hard to believe, but... we had no other version of the story to go by."

Ishita huffed. "It doesn't matter now," she insisted. "Whatever happened was for good honestly. I am married to a much better man because of it."

Her gaze wandered to Raman sitting at the bar, and her eyes softened with tenderness.

"We can see that," Kalpana whistled. "I mean... you look at him like he hung up the moon. I've never seen you like this. Like... ever."

Ishita hid her eyes behind her fingers, blush rising in her cheeks. Niranjan and Kalpana giggled at her. Their little bubble popped however, when a certain someone cleared their throat behind Ishita.

"Ishu- I mean... Ishita?" Subbu said tentatively.

Ishita sighed in frustration. "I don't want to talk to you," she said without even turning to face him. She made to step away, deciding this would be a good time to leave the party.

"I just wanted to apologize!" he called out after her.

Her feet stopped in their tracks and she turned to face him despite herself. Niranjan and Kalpana discreetly made themselves scarce, letting them talk in private.

"Listen Ishita... I um..." Subbu nervously rubbed his hands together. "I'm sorry. For the way I left you. And how that... hurt you. I didn't mean to hurt you. Really, I didn't. It's just that... amma had certain expectations of me... She had some dreams which I couldn't break..."

Ishita rolled her eyes. This was his sorry attempt at an apology?

"Subbu, I wasn't hurt because you left me," she sighed. "I was hurt because you didn't even talk to me about me. I would've completely understood if you didn't want to marry me after finding out about my infertility. But you didn't even think I was worthy of one conversation?"

Subbu hung his face shamefacedly, as Ishita shot daggers at him. He had dumped her so abruptly, giving her no chance at closure and leaving her with such horrible trust issues and insecurities. She recalled every time those insecurities had hindered her relationship with Raman. Every time she had dismessed her own feelings or Raman's advances believing she was unworthy of love. Every time she had hid behind "Sirf Ruhi ke liye" to refuse dealing with her real feelings. All because of this man. Naturally, she was in no mood to forgive.

"I'm truly sorry, Ishu," Subbu continued. "Please don't harbor this negativity in your heart any longer. We were just... I think we just weren't meant to be. I think it's time you moved on," he advised, looking down upon her.

Ishita narrowed her eyes and glared at him. "Don't try to patronize me, Subbu. You think I'm mad because I'm still hung up on you?" He shook her face with a mocking laugh. "I love my husband. Only him. And he loves me too. More than you could ever be capable of loving someone."

A million words came to her tongue, so much so that she could've spoken for hours about how great of a husband Raman was. She could've compared Subbu's empty show-off to Raman's real, genuine gestures. She could've detailed her ex's disregard for her career and individuality in contrast to her husband's pride at her independence and courage. She could've described how she was cherished – treasured even – being Raman's wife.

But she decided against it. She didn't owe it to anyone – much less Subbu – to explain her marriage. He didn't deserve her mental energy.

"Let it be, Subbu. Don't bother apologizing to me. In fact, I should actually be thanking you," she said.

A genuine smile lighted up her face, and Subbu scrunched his eyebrows quizzically.

"The only reason I met the love of my life and my other half is because you left me. The worst heartbreak of my life turned out to be the best thing to ever happen to me," she explained.

Subbu gulped awkwardly. "I didn't know you felt that way Ishu- Um... Ishita. I guess I'll... I'll leave you alone then..."

He turned around to leave, but Ishita stopped him.

"Wait Subbu," she called out. "This time, I get to walk away."

She turned around and walked off, leaving Subbu behind, along with all the insecurities and doubts he had once plagued her with.

But before she could find her bearings as she walked away, a firm hand gripped her wrist and her husband's eyes rained fire at her.

"We need to talk," he gritted out.

Less than five minutes later, they had exited the building and he cornered her under an exterior lighting fixture, his grip on her wrist as firm as ever.

Ishita peered at her husband curiously, concerned at the anguish in his eyes. Had she really failed to notice his turmoil amidst her own?

"Raman, aap kya-"

"Aisa kya hai usme?" he asked hoarsely, without letting her finish. "Aisa kya hai us Subbu mein jo woh tumhe aaj bhi itna affect karta hai?"

Ishita scrunched her eyebrows in confusion and concern.

"I saw you smiling at him," he revealed. "For two days, he's been causing you so much trouble. And I've been trying to better your mood. But despite that, he gets your brightest smile?"

Her eyebrows relaxed and understanding dawned upon her. She brought her free hand up to his face and gently cupped his cheek. "No Raman, it's not like that. I was smiling at him because if he hadn't dumped me then I wouldn't have met you, my love."

His heartstrings went taut at the epithet she used. His possessive grip on her other hand loosened, and she raised it to hold his face with both hands.

"Raman, I was just taken aback when he appeared in front of me after so long," she explained. "I think I just didn't have proper closure which is why I had all this unresolved resentment. But... I realized one thing."

"What's that?"

"Subbu and I would never have worked out. My relationship with him was always uneven. I was always meant for you."

Raman dropped his forehead to hers and closed his eyes, his heartstrings threatening to snap under the weight of her revelations.

"I'm sorry..." he whispered. "I didn't mean to frighten you. I just... You talking to him so happily, so carefree... it just snapped something inside me. You're just... you're mine, you know? Only mine. Tum sirf meri ho," he declared.

"I know, Raman. Main aapki hoon aur aap mere." Her fingers trailed to the back of his head, tangling in his hair. "I'm completely and only yours, just as you're mine."

Her words barely registered in his head and he lunged forward, capturing her lips with his. She clung to his shoulders and he kneaded her waist, grinding their tongues and teeth together. He nipped her lower lip and she moaned into his mouth, heat igniting within her body.

Raman hadn't been able to control his earlier possessive reaction. He had simply seen her smiling at Subbu, and the caveman in him had kicked in. It was unlike the modern supportive husband he strived to be, but it was a part of him. He may have pushed hard, maybe even crossed a line, but Ishita didn't seem to mind it. Not by the way she was holding him close and kissing the life out of him. Instead, it was as if she'd been... unlocked.

Painfully, he wrenched himself out of her grip and managed to breath evenly. There was no way he was going to be able to keep his hands off of her now, and what they were heading towards was not a spectacle for public. It was for his eyes only.

"Come on. Hotel. Now," he blurted out.

Ishita nodded eagerly.

Their hotel was a ten-minute walk away, which they managed to cover in five minutes, as they almost jogged to their room and climbed into the bed.

They didn't catch a breath until they emerged from beneath the sheets hours later, scratch marks on his back from her nails and bite marks on her neck from his teeth.

.....................................................................................................................

Sunstar Hotel, Raman & Ishita's suite – 11 pm

Ishita stretched her arms in the bed, sated and satisfied, even as aftershocks of pleasure ran through her body. Raman rolled over to face her when he caught his breath, lazily trailing his finger along her back.

"Raman," she began when she could finally speak. "I've been meaning to ask. How was this entire experience for you?"

"Amazing. Breathtaking. Mind-numbing."

Ishita furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. She didn't know the conference had been that enjoyable for him. It wasn't until he smirked and sent her a flirtatious wink that she realized what he was alluding to.

"Raman!" she gasped, lightly punching him on the shoulder. "That's not what I was talking about. I meant this whole conference. Especially the part where we ran into Subbu. I didn't even properly talk about it with you."

He dropped a light kiss on her shoulder. "It was fine madrasan. It's just that..." His words trailed off nervously.

Ishita turned on her side and faced him on the pillow. "Kahiye na? Chupaayiye mat."

"Tujhe bura toh nahi lagega?"

"Bilkul nahi."

"Welll... It's just that... You dentists have a very bad sense of humor madrasan. How did those guys get none of my jokes?!" he complained.

"Raman!" Ishita whined, barely hiding her giggles. "I'm trying to have a serious conversation here."

"There's nothing to talk about, Ishita," Raman said, his tone turning serious. "I enjoyed the conference. As far as Subbu goes... I'll admit that I don't like the guy. But mostly what bothered me about him was the fact that he was bothering you. As long as you're okay, I'm okay."

He pushed her hair back and the pad of his thumb rubbed back and forth on her bare shoulder. "If anything, him showing up let me live in your shoes for a day."

"Matlab?" Ishita asked.

"Matlab... your ex showed up for one weekend and I turned into a jealous wreck. But when you had to deal with Shagun, that too for an entire year no less, you did it with such grace. I can't imagine that was easy."

Ishita averted her eyes playfully, marveling at her husband's thoughtfulness.

"How did you do it?" he asked.

She shrugged in indifference. "I don't really have an answer to that, Raman. It's not like I didn't get jealous. It's just that... earlier in our marriage I didn't think I even had the right to do anything about it. Then later, when things started changing, I just trusted you enough to know she didn't make a difference. And whenever that trust wavered, you reinstated it until I couldn't even question it."

She scooched closer and kissed him on the lips, leaving the both of them breathless.

"I love you," she breathed.

"I love you too." He gently tapped her nose. "Ishu."

Ishita pulled back, taken aback at him using her nickname for the first time.

"Kya hua? Accha nahi laga?" he asked.

"Aisi baat nahi hai. Accha toh tha lekin..." She bit her lip, lost in thought. It was sweet, but him addressing her with such a common nickname just didn't sit right with her. They deserved something unique, something special.

"Lekin?" he prodded.

"Aap mujhe madrasan aur Jhansi ki Rani bulaate hai na, woh zyada accha lagta hai."

Raman chuckled and pulled her closer, planting a kiss on her cheek. "All right meri Jhansi ki Rani."

"Can I ask you something?" Ishita asked, as he pulled back.

"Sure, go ahead." Raman burrowed closer into the pillow, his arm resting around her torso.

"Do you believe in soulmates?"

"Achaanak yeh sawaal kyun?" he asked.

"Renuka ma'am talked about it yesterday. When I spoke with her privately. She said she didn't believe in them. She doesn't think that two random people are destined to be together or anything. All that matters is that both people put in enough effort. I was just curious to know what you think about that."

Raman's fingers lazily grazed her spine. "I'm a romantic at heart, madrasan. Of course, I believe in soulmates. But I'm also practical. Even if you're destined to be with someone, it won't work until both people pull their weight." He threaded his fingers through her hair. "What do you think?"

"I believe in them too. For a while I didn't though. When Subbu dumped me, when I moved to Delhi. Even when we got married. My only love at that time was Ruhi."

"And then?"

"And then you happened. You came out of nowhere and swept me off my feet."

Overcome with shyness, she burrowed closer to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. Her nose pressed against his neck and she peppered him with kisses. Meanwhile, Raman squeezed her close to his chest and nuzzled her hair, pressing a kiss on the crown of her head. Suddenly, he flipped them over until Ishita was on her back and he towered over her.

His lips descended on hers, as the clock struck midnight, and Mr. and Mrs. Bhalla gloriously rang in their honeymoon.

.....................................................................................................................

A very nice update please update next part soon

Part 60

Absolutely fantastic!!!!⭐️👏

I just love the way you are getting Raman and Ishita discussing issues together - the phone situation was brilliant!! I like that both of them had a civilised discussion and then also explained their decision to Adi and there he also understood reasons for their decision! 👍🏼

In the show I did not like the way Ishita talked to Vandu instead of Raman and then came up with the silly idea of cc cameras!!!! And the result was what ....... the usual insults from Raman!!!😒

The way you create situations for Ishra to have some lovely romantics moments is fabulous!! Like the birthday party - the beautiful moment in the bathroom after washing Ruhi and Adi's hands - and incorporating the scene from the show when Raman turns her back to the mirror to show her the little mishap on her back - but you made it so much better by introducing romance in the moment - and awesomely ended it by Ishita kissing Raman - wow!!!❤️ and Raman getting bashful and maybe even almost blushing!!☺️

One of the best things I like in this story is how Raman is so supportive of her career and does not put her down all the time like in the show - I know he was proud of her and her career but always showed it indirectly but majority of time he was taunting her and always making fun and I felt that sometimes he went overboard!!!

In your story, however he is totally supportive and here he helped her so much and no taunting at all - in the show he did not like to show his support directly - always preferred taunting (ego I guess!!)

And I also love the way she also listens to him and takes his advise!! It kind of reminded me of the time on the show where they had swapped roles and he helped her a little with her presentation - again a little indirectly though!!!!

But I love the situation in your story which is much better - he is so encouraging and the way she read his thoughts!!!

Absolutely brilliant!! looking forward to lots of fun and romance during their "honeymoon"!!!!❤️❤️☺️☺️

Just going to read the next episode now yyyiiiipppeeeee!!!

Part 62

Eden Botanical Gardens, Chennai – next day, Monday September 3rd, 10 am

"What is this place, madrasan?" Raman asked, curiously peering around at the green bushes and colorful flowers.

"This-" She waved around at the surroundings. "-is the Eden Garden. It used to be one of our favorite hangout spots. I used to come here with my friends all the time. Sometimes I came here with a book or two just to read on my own."

She led him through an expanse of ankle-high grass beyond the entrance to a stone path cutting through the grass. They walked down the path, fingers interlocked, as they surveyed the rest of the garden. Large patches of thick low grass spread around them, separated by evenly spaced, parallel walkways. Lush bushes with blossoming flowers lined the border of the garden along with a knee-high iron fence.

They breathed in the fresh cool air as a light breeze blew against their face. Without the responsibilities of their everyday life occupying their mind, they felt extraordinarily light and carefree.

Green was the color of the grass

Where I used to read at Centennial Park

I used to think I would meet somebody there

Their week-long honeymoon had just begun and they had lots of plans. Ishita had excitedly listed down every place she wanted to re-visit from her childhood. Raman had researched the top tourist places and happening night life of the city. By the law of the land however, his wife won the argument and they had 'unanimously' decided to begin with Ishita's choice of places.

"You see that street?" Ishita pointed to a busy street beyond the border of the garden.

Raman nodded.

"If you go down that street to the right-" She stretched onto her tiptoes to point at where the street went. "-then my school appears. Even further down is my college. A lot of us used to come here after class and hang out until the bus arrived. A couple times, we even came here for lunch..."

She recognized a café at the edge of the road to her left and pointed there. "You see that café there? Tropical Café? We used to buy ice cream and frozen yogurt there. One of my friends used to work for the manager so he always gave us discount on everything off the menu."

Teal was the color of your shirt

When you were sixteen at the yogurt shop

You used to work at to make a little money

"It feels weird to come back here after so many years..." Ishita mused.

She gazed around at the ever so familiar sight. The garden was still covered with the same green grass and blooming flowers. The streets around were still teeming with vehicles and chaos. Even the corner shops and restaraunts were the exact same, signs fading and paint scraping away.

There was a time when her heart had been ripped to shreds and her life had shattered in this very place. Her entire life had turned upside down after that, but this city hadn't changed one bit. Everything remained the same in the grand scheme of the universe. A tiny laugh blew out of her.

"Kya soch rahi ho?" Raman asked.

"Just thinking how funnily time works," she replied. "Kitna sab kuch ho gaya peechle do saalon mein? Lekin duniya chalti gayi. Samay ka pahiya kabhi nahi ruka. Our own troubles seem so inconsequential under the grand scheme of things..."

Time, curious time

Gave me no compasses, gave me no signs

Were there clues I didn't see?

"Pata hai, jab mein Mumbai se ghar visit karne aata tha na, tab Delhi mein mujhe bhi aisa hi mehsoos hota tha," Raman joined. "Sab ke dil mein kuch na kuch tanhaayi ya takleef hogi, lekin pura sheher jaise us baat se anjaan tha."

He chuckled as he continued, "Yahan tak ki mere ghar mein bhi jaise kuch nahi badla. Har saal meri income doguni, chauguni badhti gayi, lekin mummy-papa ne ghar ka naksha badalne nahi diya. Maine hazaar baar unhe kaha hoga ki bade bungalow mein shift ho jaao, ya kam se kam puraane flat ka renovation karwaa lo, lekin woh kabhi nahi maane. Wohi diwaare, wohi furniture, wohi photo frames... Sab kuch waise ka waisa tha."

Raman sighed as he shook his head lightly.

"Mujhe itna khataktaa tha sab kuch ki ek waqt ke baad maine waapis jaana hi band kar diya," he revealed.

"Mujhme bhi Chennai waapis aane ki himmat nahi hoti, agar aap mere saath nahi hote." They turned to the left as the pathway curved around a tree. "Maine kabhi socha nahi tha, ki jis sheher mein apna bachpan bitaaya wahi par honeymoon manaaungi," she giggled.

"Funny stroke of luck?" Raman's head turned towards her and he wiggled his eyebrows.

Ishita shook her head. "I like to think it was fated to happen."

And isn't it just so pretty to think

All along there was some

Invisible string

Tying you to me?

They walked like that, hand in hand, talking about everything under the sun. No topic was foreign. Even when conversation ran out, they were content to walk in comfortable silence. Two hours passed by easily, and they didn't even realize it.

"Raman, it's past noon now. What's the plan for lunch?" Ishita asked.

"Tum bataao?" Raman retorted. "Tumhara sheher hai na? What's the best place to eat here?"

Ishita chewed her lip as a tentative plan formed in her mind. "Ek authentic Tamilian restaurant hai thodi door. Lunch ke liye wahaan chalte hai. Phir shaam ko we'll go to Dakshina Chitra Heritage Museum."

Raman rolled his eyes. "Madrasan, hum log honeymoon par aaye hai, school trip par nahi. Museum mein jaana zaroori hai kya?"

"Jee haan." She narrowed her eyes at him. "Is museum mein jaana bahot zaroori hai. Aap ek baar bol rahe the na, 'mere liye Goa ke neeche sab south hai? Sab idli khaate hai, sirf chutney badalti hai?'"

Raman nodded sheepishly, as he recalled his words from one of their earlier fights.

"That's why you have to visit this museum. It showcases the distinct culture of all the different South Indian states... Tamil Nadu, Andhra Pradesh, Karnataka, Kerala..."

Time, mystical time

Cuttin' me open, then healin' me fine

Were there clues I didn't see?

"Rickshaw!" Raman yelled abruptly, halting Ishita's monologue before it turned into a lecture. He may not have a choice in visiting the museum, but that didn't mean he had to listen about it before hand.

They had arrived at the street outside the gate, and Raman yelled for a rickshaw again before one stopped before them.

"Kahan jaana hai sir?" the driver asked.

"Bataayiye madam." Raman gestured towards Ishita before climbing in.

"Aapko pata hai 'Chennai Food Palace' kahan hai? Downtown central ke paas?" she asked.

"Jee madam."

The rickshaw driver nodded and reset the meter as Ishita climbed in beside her husband. The rickshaw jerked forward and they headed to their destination, occasionally bouncing from the bumps and potholes in the way.

"So, as I was saying, about the heritage of South India-"

"Madrasan!" Raman stopped his wife before she could continue. "Look, why don't you save this lecture for when we actually get to the museum? Tab tak thodi shaanti se baith. Kitna bolti hai yaar?"

"Agar chup-chaap rehne wali biwi chaahiye thi toh kisi TV serial se pakadte le aate? Mujhse shaadi kyun ki?"

"Mere paas choice thodi thi? Ab jo hona tha... so ho gaya..." he sighed and leaned back, feigning regret.

Ishita smirked, recognizing her husband's playful mood. "Baat toh sahi hai. Humein toh kismat ne saath mein baandh diya. Warna hum dono ne ek doosre ko kabhi pasand hi nahi kiya..."

"Kabhi bhi pasand nahi kiya?" Raman raised a suspicious eyebrow.

Ishita nodded.

His expression faltered momentarily, and she leaned in closer to whisper in his ear, "Humaari mohabbat ke liye 'pasand' bahot chota shabd hai, Raman. Words can't describe how head over heels for you I am."

And isn't it just so pretty to think

All along there was some

Invisible string

Tying you to me?

.....................................................................................................................

Shri Ashtalakshmi Temple, Chennai – two days later, Wednesday, 5 pm

Ishita adjusted her dupatta around her shoulders, draping it across her chest, as she climbed the steps of the temple. Raman followed her up the stairs after removing his shoes, dressed in casual trousers and a polo t-shirt. This temple dedicated to the eight forms of Mata Lakshmi was the last site on Ishita's list that she wanted to show Raman.

They arrived in the main sanctum sanctorum on the second level and folded their hands in front of the idol of Lord Vishnu and Mata Lakshmi. Since it was a weekday, the temple was minimally crowded, allowing them to approach the front easily. Standing side by side, they closed their eyes and bowed their heads.

Ishita had been here a few times before moving to Delhi. She had prayed for a smooth wedding with Subbu. She had asked for strength to be able to please Devyani. She had even cried after her broken nuptials, angry at the gods for not letting anything work in her favor.

A string that pulled me

Out of all the wrong arms right into that dive bar

Something wrapped all of my past mistakes in barbed wire

She had the sudden urge to boink herself on the back of the head for her foolishness. Instead, she lowered her head as she prayed.

Hey Bhagwaan, aapki leela aparampaar hai. Aapne aaj meri zindagi mein itni khushiyaan bhar di hai, ki ab aapse kuch bhi maangna baaki nahi raha. Bas itna hi maang sakti hoon ke aap Raman, Adi, Ruhi, aur mere pure parivaar ko khush rakhna. Sab par apni kripa banaaye rakhna, prabhu.

Raman sneaked a covert glance at his wife before facing the idol. Out of his entire family, he was probably the least religious, which was saying something. There was a time in his life when he had lost all faith in prayer and hope. When his demons had roared to life, leaving him to brave the elements alone. But not anymore.

Hey Maata Rani, Hey Naarayan, mujhe Ishita jaisa jeevansathi dene ke liye aapko jitna dhanyawaad karu utna kam hai. Aur kuch waqt ke liye, aap par se jo vishwaas uth gaya tha, uske liye jitna maafi maangu utna bhi kam hai. Aaj samajh aa raha hai ki jeevan mein jo hua woh kyun hua. Bas itni kripa karna ki ab mere parivaar par koi aanch na aaye.

Chains around my demons, wool to brave the seasons

One single thread of gold tied me to you

After one last bow to the idol, they lifted their heads and lowered their hands. The priest came forward and placed in their right palm a handful of almonds, cashews, pistachios, and crystallized sugar lumps as prasad (holy offering).

"Make sure you visit the rest of the levels of the temple," the priest suggested. "The eight forms of Maata Lakshmi and ten incarnations Lord Naraayan are in separate sanctums."

"Sure panditji." Ishita and Raman reverentially ate the prasad before nodding and leaving the sanctum.

As suggested, they headed to the other levels to pay their respects to the rest of the idols. As they walked throughout the temple between each level, Raman gazed at the architecture, marveling the fine handiwork and bright colors.

"Wow madrasan, I finally get why your Amma is so proud of South Indian culture. This architecture is just... breathtaking," he sighed.

"I know, right?" She joined him in his awe of the temple. "As kids, Amma made sure to bring us to one of the city's temples every week. Even if it was a local one. Sometimes she had to drag Mihika out of the house, but she brought us nonetheless. I think that's why I'm so religious today."

Cold was the steel of my axe to grind

For the boys who broke my heart

Now I send their babies presents

The final idol was in the topmost shrine at the fourth level. The footfall there – and therefore noise – was lower than that in the main sanctum, allowing them to pay their respects in peace. After a final bow to Mata Dhanalakshmi, Raman recommenced his surveyal of the intricate architecture. Amidst his surveillance, he heard distant ocean waves echo inside the temple complex.

"Do you hear that Ishita?" he asked, as he heard his wife approach.

"The ocean?"

Raman nodded.

"Yeah. Sometimes Appa used to bribe us with visits to the beach to get us to come to the temple," she chuckled. "Do you want to go there now? I think Elliot beach is closeby."

"Not right now. It's getting dark out. Let's go tomorrow. We can spend the entire day there. Abhi kuch dinner ka bandobast karte hai."

"All right then. If I remember correctly, I think there's a nice restaurant not far from here."

They exited the shrine and descended the steps.

"What's the menu like at this restaurant?" Raman asked, as he put on his shoes, a spark of hope flickering in his eyes.

Ishita smiled. "Don't worry. Punjabi, Madrasi, veg, non-veg, sab kuch hai menu par. Aap pet bhar ke chicken aur mutton kha sakte ho."

She adjusted the strap of her sandal and fixed her dupatta that had slid off her shoulder.

"Oh thank god...!" Raman sighed with relief.

Gold was the color of the leaves

When I showed you around Centennial Park

Hell was the journey but it brought me heaven

They called a rickshaw and set off, as Ishita gave directions as best she could. The maps and roads of Chennai were fading from her memory, and she was grateful that the rickshaw driver knew the street where they were heading towards. They arrived at their destination in twenty minutes.

Once they entered the restaurant, they were seated at a corner table in less than ten minutes. Their orders arrived just as quickly, thanks to the thin crowd: Raman's chicken biryani, mutton curry, and tandoori roti, and Ishita's veg kothu parotta, and kadala curry accompanied with cucumber raita.

The aroma of spices diffused through the air, and instrumental ballads resonated through the walls. The evening passed by in good spirits as Ishita and Raman savored their dinner.

Time, wondrous time

Gave me the blues and then purple pink skies

And it's cool, baby, with me

And isn't it just so pretty to think

All along there was some

Invisible string

Tying you to me?

https://youtu.be/OuFnpmGwg5k

.....................................................................................................................

Elliot Beach – next day, Thursday, 11 am

"Harder, Raman."

"No. Any more pressure and it'll hurt you."

"I don't care. I need this life jacket to be as tight as possible."

"Madrasan, every single strap is buckled and double tied. You'll be fine. If I tighten the binds any more, you'll have trouble breathing."

Raman checked the belts on the back of Ishita's red life jacket one last time before she turned around, fiddling with the straps. He swatted her hands away and gripped her shoulders.

"Why are you so nervous? Tumko adventure se dar kab se lagne laga?" he asked.

Ishita shrugged his hands off her and pouted. "Samandar ke beech mein adventure karne se koi bhi normal insaan daregaa. Aap pata nahi kis grah ke hai. Yahin sab cheezein bucket list mein daalne ki zaroorat thi aapko?"

Raman chuckled at his wife. She looked absolutely delectable in black tights and a blue swim shirt, an adorable pout on her lips. She had been this irritated since their arrival at the beach, when he had dropped the bombshell. While she had been expecting a relaxing day at the shore amongst crashing waves, her husband had gone off and signed them up for his choice of adventure water sports. So now, they were standing at the dock, putting on life jackets, waiting for their turn on the jetski.

"It'll be fine Ishita. We've taken all the necessary precautions," he assured her. "And I've even taken a boat safety course before."

"Yeh lijiye sir." The boat attendant beckoned them forward as a jet ski became available. "Aa jayiye aap log. Waise hi chadhna hai jaise scooter ya bike par chadhte hai."

Raman stepped forward and swung his leg over the neon seat. His grey swim trunks rode up his knees as he adjusted his position on the seat, and his muscles rippled beneath his white sports tank top and red life jacket as he gripped the handles.

"Aaja madrasan, kuch nahi hoga!" he called out, once he was comfortable on the jet ski.

Ishita blew out a rough breath before stepping off the dock and sitting behind her husband. She adjusted her stance behind him before bringing her arms around his waist and pressing her chin into his shoulder, holding tight.

"You ready?" Raman asked over his shoulder.

"I'll never be ready for this..." she breathed. "Raman, I swear to god, if I die in the middle of the ocean, I will haunt you for the rest of your life."

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. It was a joke, but even the thought of her dying turned his blood to ice. He shook his head to rid himself of such rubbish thoughts.

"Oh really? Matlab marne ke baad bhi peecha nahi chodogi?" he chuckled, hiding the quiver in his voice.

"Bilkul nahi. Bhoot bankar aapke peeche padi rahungi."

"Abhi bhi kisi bhoot se kam thodi ho..."

Ishita nudged him in the back with her chin as he twisted the handles of the jet ski and turned on the engine.

"Ready to go?!" Raman asked.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

"Hold on!"

Ishita's arms around his waist tightened and they set off. Their jet ski zipped through the water, creating white waves and leaving a line of sea foam behind them. Salt air whipped through their hair, rippling their clothes, and seagulls echoed overhead.

Raman reveled in the cool salty wind and the feel of his wife's arms around his waist. If there was heaven on earth, this had to be it.

Ishita pressed closer to her husband, even as she lifted her head to enjoy the sea breeze and cool splashes of water against her legs.

After ten minutes in heaven, they had to regretfully return to the dock. They climbed off the jet ski and almost jogged from the dock, adrenaline still pumping in their veins.

"Oh my god..." Ishita panted. "That was amazing!"

"Dekha! Kahan tha na maine mazaa aayega!" Raman beamed.

"What's next on the list?"

The next couple hours were spent on various water sports: parasailing, kayaking, and even simple freestyle swimming. It wasn't until past two pm that they emerged from the water, famished and exhausted. After taking a minute to wash up and dry their clothes, they found a street-side stall by the far end of the beach to satisfy their hunger.

"What is this?" Raman asked, peering curiously at the banana leaf in his hand. It held a white noodle-like substance with dollops of white, red, and green chutney on the side.

"That is idiyappam. It's a version of South Indian seviyaan, but salty," Ishita explained. "And here I have murrukku sandwich." She showed her own banana leaf with stacks of murrukku covered in chutney, cucumber slices, and tomato pieces. "It's a very popular street food here."

They walked along the shore, eating from their own and the other's plate (or leaf rather). Sand crunched beneath their toes and sea waves washed over their feet.

"Raman, what else is on your bucket list? Besides adventure sports?" Ishita initiated a conversation.

"I haven't really made a list." Raman took of bite of murrukku. "I want to go skiing in Europe somewhere. Maybe the Swiss Alps? I love snow... Our next trip should be somewhere out of India. We'll take Ruhi and Adi with us too."

"That sounds great." Ishita dipped a piece of idiyappam in chutney and chewed.

"And the next beach we visit should be somewhere in the Pacific, where we can go snorkeling or scuba-diving with aquatic life. Like Indonesia or Hawaii," he mused. "What about you? You must have a bucket list too, right?"

Ishita threw their empty banana leaves in a nearby trash can as they continued walking.

"I don't have a list per se..." she began. "But there are a couple wishes I've had. That I haven't told anyone else."

"Oh I'm intrigued now." Raman slung his arm over her shoulder and trained his eyes on her. "Spill madrasan."

Ishita sighed and pressed her lips together to avoid smiling. "Well for one thing... I want a tattoo one day."

Raman's eyebrows shot up.

"Not anything big or scandalous of course," she was quick to add. "Maybe a nice quote on my wrist or a heart on my ankle. I'm not sure."

"What else?"

"I um... I've always wanted to visit a night club one day," she revealed. "All my friends have been to one but Amma would never have allowed us. And I don't think I would've had the courage to go either. Have you ever been in one?"

"Yeah I have. Maa wouldn't have let me either, but I went with a few friends once for a party. We even held Neil's bachelor party at a bar."

The stretch of sand beneath their feet began morphing into a rocky terrain with waves splashing against the boulders. They ended their walk and sat down in the sand, toes touching the water.

"How did that go over with Trisha?" Ishita asked, stretching her legs out in front of her.

"Not well," Raman chuckled. "I heard she almost didn't show up for the sangeet."

"You heard?" Her eyebrows scrunched up in confusion.

"Yeah... I um... I didn't attend all the functions. I made a quick appearance for the actual wedding, but nothing else. The bachelor party was the only one I stayed for because... alcohol," he sighed ruefully.

He dropped his head and shoulders into his wife's lap, twisting his body to lie down and look up at her. Ishita combed her fingers through his soft hair and ran her nails across his scalp, and he sighed in pleasure.

Their conversation continued until the brightness of the sun softened and dusk approached. The ocean waves turned stronger as the sun set, inching up to Ishita's knees instead of toes.

"...and then mummy freaked out, you know?" Raman said as he detailed one of his old memories. "It was Adi's first Holi, and she found him putting color in his mouth instead of people's faces. She got so mad on Shagun that day. Thank god the colors were organic and harmless."

Ishita laughed at the image forming in her head, the mention of Shagun no longer bothering her.

"I remember Ruhi's first Holi with me," she added. "Usne Shravu ke saath pura ghar sar par utha liya tha. Kabhi Shravu uske hair pull karta tha toh kabhi Ruhi us par pichkaari se paani daalti thi. Din khatam hote hote mera aur akka ka sar bhaari ho gaya tha."

Raman chuckled aloud. Just then, a particularly strong wave washed up the shore, going past Ishita's knees and up her thighs. Unfortunately, that meant water splashed onto Raman's face who was lying in her lap. His laugh stopped abruptly as he spluttered and coughed from the force of salt water entering his nose and throat.

He sat up and coughed violently, struggling to breathe. On the other hand, Ishita struggled to contain her giggles at the sight.

"Are you laughing at me?!" Raman gasped, running a palm down his wet face.

"Sorry... sorry Raman... I just couldn't..." she managed to say between bouts of laughter.

"Oh you'll regret this."

Before Ishita could process his threat, a startled yelp flew out of her as she found herself hauled over his shoulder.

"Raman! What are you doing?!" she shrieked, as he walked into the sea.

She received her answer when he dropped her into the water, causing her to cough and splutter and him to laugh. Before he could relish the exchange of power however, he felt a jerk on his arm as Ishita pulled him down into the water.

They splashed around in water until the sun disappeared and the water turned chilly. As night fell, they returned to their hotel to shower and have dinner.

"I'll go shower first okay?" Ishita said as she locked the door of their hotel room.

"Absolutely not. By the time you finish, I'll freeze to death," Raman replied.

The goosebumps on Ishita's skin multiplied at her husband mentioning his death. He didn't even mean it literally, but still... terror crawled beneath her skin.

"I'll be quick, I promise," she insisted, shaking her goosebumps away.

Raman turned up the temperature dial and peeled his shirt off.

"Actually, I have a better idea," he said in a low, husky voice.

Before she could see the smirk in his eye, she found herself pulled into the bathroom. The lock clicked shut, warm water sprayed from the showerhead, and that was all she wrote.

.....................................................................................................................

Meanwhile @ The Labor and Delivery Ward in Delhi City Hospital – 9 pm

"Come on Vandu, let's go home for now."

"No Bala. I'm not leaving."

Bala chewed his lip and the labor nurse sighed as Vandu refused to leave the bed. Dealing with pregnant women was never easy, but this one was more difficult than expected.

"Vandita ji, your water hasn't broken yet," the nurse explained again. "Your baby isn't coming today either. Just like it wasn't coming yesterday."

"But today, I'm actually in labor. It's not Braxton Hicks like yesterday," Vandu argued.

"But your water hasn't broken yet," the nurse repeated.

"Vandu, they need this room for other laboring moms," Bala tried to explain.

"I am in labor!" Vandu shrieked. "It's early labor, but still! We live on the other side of town, Bala. We're not going home only to drive back in the middle of the night after my water breaks!"

Bala couldn't argue. He himself didn't want to leave the hospital at this late hour. The fact that it was Vandu's second pregnancy meant that labor would progress quickly. Chances were, they would have to come back as soon as they reached home.

"Vandita ji-"

"I'm won't listen to anything from you!" Vandu stopped the nurse from repeating her memorized jargon. "Go get the OB/GYN! I'm not leaving until the doctor tells me to!"

Unable to go against the force of nature that Vandu was, the nurse scampered out of the room. Vandu's face screwed up in anger and discomfort as another contraction began.

"Ooofff..." she groaned.

In the next minute, Bala was at her side. "Are the contractions too painful?" he asked.

"Not yet. They're just uncomfortable."

"Come here, let's practice our breathing exercises."

She leaned forward and Bala rubbed her back, both of them breathing in and out rhythmically. The contraction passed and she slumped back, sweat beading on her brow.

"I'm so proud of you Vandu," Bala said, wiping her forehead with a towel. "I'm right here, all right? If you need anything, just say the word."

Despite the discomfort and pain shooting through her belly, Vandu smiled. "You're too sweet Bala," she sighed.

The door of the private suite opened and the nurse returned with the OB.

"Hi Vandita." The doctor slung his stethoscope around his neck. "How's it going?"

"Doctor, I'm not leaving until I have my baby." She dragged her feet to the floor and stood up. "I've been sent back twice because of false labor. I'm not going back again."

"But Vandita-"

"I swear to god, if you say anything about my water not breaking, I will rip your head off," she growled.

The doctor struggled to hold back a laugh. He was all too familiar with the wrath of laboring moms. "Vandita," he continued with professional patience. "I'm trying to say your water just broke. Look."

Vandu looked down and gasped. In her annoyance, she hadn't realized that amniotic fluid had been leaking down her legs.

"It's time now. Get ready mommy," the doctor beamed.

.....................................................................................................................

A few hours later, midnight

Vandu spread her legs and bounced on the birthing ball, as Bala rubbed her back and fed her ice chips. The doctor stood up from between her legs after finishing his exam and peeled off his medical gloves.

"You're almost halfway there, Vandita," he said as he discarded his gloves in the trash. "Four and a half centimeters dilated."

"Does that mean I can have an epidural now?" she asked.

"Yes, I'll send the anethesiologist ASAP." He scribbled a note in her chart before walking out. "You're doing good, mom. Keep it up!"

Another contraction tore through her, and she squeezed Bala's hand. He could almost hear his knuckles crack.

"Is the pain getting worse?" Bala asked, lines of concern appearing on his forehead.

Vandu bit her lip and nodded painfully. "Distract me. When is Amma getting here?"

"I called Amma about an hour ago. She and Appa were in Noida for a function, but they left as soon as I called. They should be here in half an hour tops."

"I see.... Ooouuch... What about Shravu?"

"He's staying with Ruhi and Adi at the Bhalla House."

"Three kids in one house? Without Raman and Ishu there?"

"Don't worry. Mihir and Mihika are there to help out. They'll even stay for the weekend if need be."

A knock echoed through the door before it sprung open. The anesthesiologist walked in.

"I hear someone needs an epidural huh?" he drawled.

"Oh thank god you're here..." Vandu sighed.

As soon as the epidural was administered, a wave of relief washed over her.

"Thank you Murugan..." she sighed.

.....................................................................................................................

A few more hours later, dawn

"It's time Vandita. Come on. Push!" the doctor urged.

Vandu groaned as she pushed with all her might. Her mother gripped her hand beside her, soothing her with encouraging words.

"Yes kanna... You can do it..." Madhu coaxed.

Outside the delivery room, Bala paced back and forth, anxiety crawling up throat. Madhu had insisted she accompany Vandu during her delivery, and being the obedient son-in-law that he was, he had obliged hoping his wife would be comfortable with her mother. But as the seconds ticked by and Vandu's cries of pain reached his ears, his own panic increased.

"Don't worry Bala. Sab kuch thik hoga," Vishwa assured. "Tum bhagwaan par bharosa rakho."

An excrutiatingly long wait later, the cries of a newborn echoed around the halls and Bala's head shot up in joy. The door creaked open and Madhu arrived with a wide smile on her face.

"Aiyyo beti hui hai!" she squealed with joy.

The tension lifted from the air, as Vandu, Bala, Madhu, and Vishwa were on cloud nine.

Bala and Vishwa entered the room once Vandu was cleaned and ready, a tiny pink bundle of joy in her arms. Bala approached his wife, awe etched on his face. He had been through this before but the miracle of life was still just as mesmerizing. Vandu tore her loving gaze away from her daughter and looked to her husband.

"Here. Hold her," she offered.

Bala nodded and gently held his baby, a brick of emotion jamming his throat. "Hi baby," he managed to say. "Welcome to the family. Thank you for choosing me as your Appa." His gaze traveled from his newborn girl to his wife. "Thank you Vandu. Thank you so much," he whispered.

.....................................................................................................................

Sunstar Hotel, Chennai – next day, Saturday, September 8th, 9 pm

"Congratulations Akka!" Ishita exclaimed into her phone. "Aap kaise ho? Baby kaisi hai?"

"Hum dono bilkul thik hai, Ishu." Vandu's voice resonated from the phone on speaker mode. "Bas tum dono ko inform karne ke liye phone kiya tha."

"I feel so bad akka... Aap ki delivery ho gayi aur main nahi thi wahan par."

"Aisa mat soch Ishu. Waise bhi yahan hospital mein zyada log allowed nahi hai. Amma, Appa, aur Shravu ke sivaa koi nahi aaya hai. Hum do-teen din mein ghar pahoch jaayenge, phir tum milne aana. Tab tak toh tum dono bhi waapis aa jaaoge na?"

"Haan, hum log kal waapis aa rahe hai. Aap acche se rest karo, thik hai?"

"Thik hai."

"Waise Vandu," Raman chimed in. "Tum log delivery ke baad waapis apne ghar jaaoge kya? Will you and Bala be okay handling the baby and Shravu alone?"

"Actually hum log hospital se Amma ke ghar jaayenge. Kuch din tak wahin rahenge. Aise unki help bhi rahegi, aur zyada madad chahiye hogi toh Ishu ya Miku ko bula lungi."

"Chalo thik hai. Yeh accha socha tumne."

"Okay, toh main phone rakhti hoon. Bas tum dono ko khushkhabari dene ke liye phone kiya tha. Enjoy the rest of your honeymoon, okay?"

"We will, akka," Ishita said. "You take care of yourself and the baby, okay?"

"Congratulations once again, Vandu!" Raman said, before the call hung up.

Ishita set her phone inside her clutch purse and snapped it shut. They had received the good news of their niece's birth on the family group chat this morning and had been waiting for an opportunity to call and congratulate the happy parents.

Now that that was out of the way, they had one last outing of their honeymoon left. This time, they were crossing something off Ishita's bucket list.

"I'll just go change, okay?" she said. "Then we can leave."

Raman nodded at her. Fifteen minutes later, she emerged from the bathroom with fresh makeup and a new dress, her torso covered with a thick shawl.

"Are you wearing this shawl?" Raman asked. "I thought you bought a dress this morning."

"I did. I'm just wearing this shawl over the dress until we get there," she clarified.

As they walked out of their room and headed to the lobby, Ishita asked a question that had been bothering her ever since she bought the dress.

"Raman, are you sure you're okay with me wearing this?" she whispered. "I mean... there's going to be a bit of skin show once I take the shawl off."

Raman turned his head towards her. "The real question is, are you okay with it? It all depends on your comfort level."

"I'm fine actually. I mean, the family isn't here. It's just you, right? So it's okay. And the dress fits me very well. I'm just surprised you're okay with it."

She recalled his show of possessiveness when she had seen her smiling at Subbu. When she had joked about other men finding her attractive.

"I'm totally fine with it," he chuckled. "Mujhe bhi logo ko dikhana hai ki meri biwi kitni hot hai."

Her mouth fell open in a shy grin.

"Aur waise bhi," he continued. "Agar kisi kameene ne koi ulti-seedhi harkat ki, toh main hoon na? Uski haddiyaan tod dunga."

Her grin transformed into a laugh.

They exited the lobby and headed to their destination.

.....................................................................................................................

Dazzle Disco Nightclub, Chennai – 9:30 pm

"One old-fashioned please." Raman ordered a drink at the bar and sat down on a stool, adjusting his cufflinks on his checkered button-up shirt.

The nightclub was lively and upbeat. The latest pop songs reverberated through the club, and the growing weekend crowd danced on the neon-lighted dance floor.

"Here's your old-fashioned sir." The bartender slid his drink across the bar which Raman caught in one fluid movement. He sipped on the whiskey cocktail, eyes traveling across the club, taking in the scene.

A pair of heels clicked to his left and his head turned at the sound. When his eyes focused on the figure who had approached, his sight tunneled and the world went momentarily soundless. The woman in front of him was a vision to behold.

See you in the dark

All eyes on you, my magician

All eyes on us

The woman was clad in a knee-length cowl neck dress with a deep v-cut neckline and spaghetti straps at her shoulders. Her jet black hair flowed down her back, and rose gold sequins sparkled all over her dress, magnified by the lights shining on her. But none of the light reflecting off her glittery dress could compete with the sparkle in her eyes.

"One cherry mojito mocktail," she said to the bartender. "Non-alcoholic please."

Raman sighed. Her voice was a bewitching siren song, one that could lure sailors to their doom.

"Here you go miss." The bartender handed her a glass of red mocktail before turning to the other customers.

Raman saw the woman take a tiny sip, her parting lips just as red as the cherries in her drink. She sighed in pleasure as she drank, and a silent moan erupted deep in his throat. He had barely laid his eyes on her for a minute, and she was already his undoing.

You make everyone disappear, and

Cut me into pieces

His heart raced as the goddess turned towards him, catching him staring at her out of the corner of her eye. He made no effort to look away however, choosing to sip his drink without breaking eye contact. A tiny smile crept up her lips which she subtly wiped off under the guise of taking of sip of her mocktail.

Raman slipped off his stool and swirled his drink, as he walked towards her, drawn to her like a moth to a flame. But before he could approach her, she turned around, sauntering off to a table at the other end of the club. As disheartened as he was, he was also determined. Determined to make her his.

Gold cage, hostage to my feelings

Back against the wall

Trippin', trip-trippin' when you're gone

.....................................................................................................................

Ishita slid onto a metal chair at the far end of the club, crossing one leg over the other. Her drink was refreshing, a perfect mix of cherries, lime, and mint. She took another sip, while tapping her foot with the rhythm of the music. Even so, her mind remained fixed on the man she had seen at the bar.

She closed her eyes, recalling his suave form that had been imprinted behind her eyelids. He sat lazily at the bar, leaning on the counter with his elbow, his feet crossed at the ankle. An air of masculine charm and pride oozed from him, bordering on smugness, making him infinitely more attractive.

He was defined by sharp clean lines, dressed in a crisp checkered shirt and bold black pants. But none of his debonair personality or attire could match with the intensity in his eyes. She had only managed to see them out of the corner of her eye, and the fleeting moment of eye contact had heat igniting in her being.

'Cause we breakdown a little

But when you get me alone, it's so simple

'Cause baby, I know what you know

We can feel it

She took a deep breath before opening her eyes, only to be taken aback at the same man approaching her table.

"Is this seat taken?" he asked, pointing to the empty chair across her. His husky voice sent shivers down her spine.

"No, it's not," she replied.

He swiped the chair out and sat down smoothly, leaning back and swirling his drink.

"I didn't say you could sit here," Ishita pointed out. "What if I have friends joining me?"

"What you rather I leave?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

It was on the tip of her tongue to say no, but her pride stood in the way. She couldn't come across as desperate. Rather than answer his question, she brought her glass to her lips and averted her eyes. Even so, she caught the smirk that appeared on his lips.

"I'm Raman Bhalla," he said without any prompting. "Just in case you need a name to write about the love of your life in your diary at night."

Ishita rolled her eyes. "Bold of you to assume I haven't already found the love of my life."

"I know you have. It's me."

And all the pieces fall

Right into place

Getting caught up in a moment

Lipstick on your face

"I'm Ishita then," she answered. "In case you need a name for the woman that haunts you in your dreams."

"Duly noted."

"I haven't seen you in this city before, Raman," she said. "What brings you here?"

"I'm looking for an answer to a mystery."

"What's that?"

"A crime has been committed. And I've heard that going back to the scene where the crime began helps to solve it."

"Would you care to share it with me? I know this city inside out. I could help you."

"Actually, I need to share it with you. You're the only one who can help me out."

He inched his hand forward and trailed his fingers over her knuckles, pleased to see goosebumps erupting up her arms.

So it goes

I'm yours to keep

And I'm yours to lose

"Would you be able to help me out?" he asked.

Ishita raised an eyebrow in thought, as she sucked on a cherry from her drink. She swirled her tongue around it before drawing it into her mouth and chewing. The brief action elicited a low hiss from between Raman's teeth, and she smiled in satisfaction.

"Before I decide that, what can you give me in return?" she negotiated after swallowing.

"Anything you want," he smiled. "Just name it."

"Dance with me."

Raman's eyebrows shot up in pleasant surprise. No woman had ever been that direct with him.

"Why dance?" he asked.

"Well... you know what they say about men who can dance..." Ishita leaned forward and whispered in his ear, "They make the best lovers."

You know I'm not a bad girl

But I do bad things with you

So it goes

Before his eyes popped out of their sockets, she grasped his hand and pulled him up, dragging him to the dance floor. The music changed from an upbeat pop number to a slow sensual ballad just in time for her to grip his shoulders and for him to snake his hands around her waist. They swayed to the music, eyes locked and movements in sync.

The music changed and songs played but their attention was locked on each other. It could've minutes or hours when Raman asked, "So... what's the verdict?"

"About?" Ishita asked.

"My dancing skills."

The corners of her lips crept upwards. "Not bad I suppose... Rhythm, check. Stamina, check. Confidence, check." She lowered her voice before continued. "Passion, check."

"Does that mean you'll help me."

"Yes, it does. What is this crime you're trying to solve?"

He pulled her closer by the waist until her soft feminine curves were lined up with his hard masculine planes. He tucked her hair behind her ear and whispered close, his breath fanning her face.

"My heart has been stolen. And I believe you're the culprit."

I make all your gray days clear and

Wear you like a necklace

A wide grin appeared on her lips and a rose blush crept up her cheeks. "Well then... what can I do for you in that case?" she gulped.

"Since you've stolen my heart, I think it's only fair that I get yours. What do you think?" He wiggled his eyebrows.

"But I don't know anything about you. How can I give you my heart just like that?"

"You know I'm a great dancer, right?"

Ishita nodded.

"And you know what they say about men who can dance, right?" He grazed his thumb against the dip of her spine over her dress. "They make the best lovers."

She sucked in a sharp breath when he repeated her earlier words back to her. He had her heart, her soul, her everything. But she wasn't ready to end this game so soon.

"They also say never to trust a man who can dance, Mr. Bhalla. Because that means they've been with more than one woman," she retorted. "How do I know you'll stay loyal to me?"

I'm so chill, but you make me jealous

But I got your heart

Skippin', skip-skippin' when I'm gone

He twirled her around until her back lined up with his chest, his arms caging her like steel bands. He swiped her hair over one shoulder and rested his chin on the other.

"There's no other woman, Ishita. I promise," he said, even as they swayed to the music. "It's only you. It's always been you."

"Prove it."

"No other woman but you can get my heart racing. No other woman but you can capture my mind. No other woman but you can ensnare my senses." He turned her around and held her flush against his chest until their breath intermingled. "I don't care if there's a prettier or younger woman out there. Because she'll never be you."

She lifted her eyebrows, peering into his eyes with all the love in her heart. His eyes that were a window into his soul. His soul that was full of love and loyalty and devotion.

"So... can I have your heart?" he asked again.

Ishita locked her hands behind his neck. "Yes. My heart is yours, Raman. I love you."

"I love you too Ishita. I love you too..."

Their foreheads touched and and eyes locked. Raman carressed her cheek lightly and Ishita smiled, their hearts inundated with love.

Come here, dressed in black now

So, so, so it goes

Scratches down your back now

So, so, so it goes

.....................................................................................................................

Meanwhile @ Luxury Heights, Chennai – 9:30 pm

Ragini reread the message from her father for nth time, drawing strength and courage from the single constant pillar of support from her life.

Take whatever decision you feel is best for yourself, beta. I will be here to support you.

No matter what part of the world you live in, always know that your father's doors are open for you. At anytime.

She took a deep shaky breath. Today was the day. She had to take the brave step. If not for herself, then for her son.

She looked up as she heard soft footsteps approach the sofa. Her darling toddler son waddled forward with unsteady steps. He faltered at the last step and his mother swiftly caught him, lifting him into her lap.

"Amma," he babbled. "Teddy." He waved the pink teddy bear in his hand, excitedly shoving it in her face.

"Bahot pyaara teddy hai, Varun," she cooed. "Jao... aap khelo."

Ragini lifted him off her lap and deposited him in the play corner they had built for him. It was full of race cars and monster trucks and dinosaurs. But his hands were full of the pink teddy bear and his cousin's borrowed Barbie doll.

Ragini sighed and returned to the couch. Her vantage point allowed her to keep an eye on her son while also wait for the door to open for when Subbu returned home. Today was going to be a tough day. But she had no other choice.

The door clicked open at the next minute and Subbu walked in. He slumped down in the armchair and Ragini stood up, her routine perfected after almost two years of marriage. She filled a glass of water and handed it to him, which he gulped down and handed back.

"Dinner karna hai?" she asked, short and succint, as she placed the empty glass in the kitchen sink.

"Nahin. Doston ke saath dinner kar liya," he replied.

Ragini sighed in frustration. "You could've told me. At least sent a message."

"Why?"

"Varun was being extra fussy today. God only knows how I managed to make dinner with him clinging to me. If you would've told me, I could've saved myself the trouble of cooking."

Subbu's head turned towards her abruptly. "How much trouble could it be to cook one meal, Ragini? Don't me dramatic. And where is Amma? She could've looked after Varun."

"She's gone to her sister's place for the day." Thank god, Ragini thought. Otherwise she would never be able to broach this subject with her husband.

Speaking of which, it was high time she ripped off the band-aid. She took in a deep breath and walked back to the living room, resuming her place on the sofa.

"Subbu, we need to talk." She kept her voice as stern as possible.

"Hmm... bolo," he said, scrolling through his phone.

"Just put your phone away and look at me for once!" she hissed.

The tone of her voice surprised Subbu. He pocketed his phone and nodded at her. "Bolo."

"I'm going back to my appa's house. And I'm taking Varun with me," she declared.

"Excuse me?!"

"You heard me. I'm leaving."

"For how long?"

"Forever."

His eyes widened in shock. "What?! Why?!" he yelled, shooting up from the armchair.

Ragini's heart thudded in anxiety. It's okay, Ragini. This is what you have to do. Be strong.

She stood up and faced her husband, stubborn and unwavering. "I just can't take it anymore. This place... this house suffocates me. I just can't stay here. I can't stay married to you."

Subbu's eyebrows scrunched up in genuine confusion. This was all so sudden. He couldn't wrap his head around it.

"I don't get it."

She didn't know whether to laugh or cry at his obliviousness. "Subbu, I used to be one of the top up and coming engineers at my firm. I had a voice of my own, an identity of my own. Ever since I got married to you, I lost myself. I can't live like this anymore."

"Are you serious? This is because you can't work? I thought your priority was taking care of Varun. We decided you can start working once he starts school."

"No Subbu! We never decided that." She pointed between herself and him. "You and your mother decided it and simply told me. Do you even know how it's been taking care of a baby on my own? When Amma is harping at me for not having done the dishes or not making prasad right? How do you think I've been dealing with this without any help from you?"

"You think I don't help?!" he yelled. "I earn all the money that we live off of. This flat, all this money... I break my back at the clinic for this!"

"Don't act like I should be indebted to you for that! I've already told you that I want to work too. I can help earn money and you can help with housework."

"Oh please... don't speak such rubbish?"

"Why? Why is the thought of me earning money and you working at home so unpalatable?"

Subbu shook his head in disappointment. "Listen Ragini, you can start working once Varun starts school. I've already allowed you to work before he was born-"

"And what makes you think you have the authority to allow me to do anything?" she interrupted him.

"Wh-Where is this coming from, Ragini...? W-What happened...?"

He gaped at her, speechless. The shock and hurt on his face was almost enough to undo her. Almost. Think of Varun, Ragini. Think of your son. He matters the most.

"Last weekend, when I went shopping with Varun, he picked out a pink teddy bear to play with. When I brought it home, your mother threw a fit because boys don't play with pink. Your relatives came over yesterday, and Varun wanted to play with his cousin sister's dolls. That's when your uncle spanked him for wanting to play with girls' toys. And when he cried because of it, you told him not to cry like a girl." She inhaled deeply, gathering strength to continue. "I can't raise him in an environment like this. I can't raise him in a house where his mother is constantly unhappy."

"What do you mean unhappy?" he asked quizzically.

"For god's sakes Subbu!" she cried, her hands flailing about in frustration. "Are you blind or what?! Did you not notice me struggling through postpartum depression after Varun was born? Did neither you nor your mother realize the toll it took on me to deal with a newborn baby, the entire house's responsibilities, and entertaining guests who came to meet the new daughter-in-law and baby?!" Tears were streaming down her face in earnest now.

"W-Why didn't you tell me?" Subbu asked shakily, reeling from shock.

"Every time I tried, you brushed me off. Every time I suggested living separately from Amma – even if temporarily – you looked at me like I was crazy. The only person who recognized my suffering was my father."

She recalled her visit to his father, when Varun was barely two months old. How he had recognized the pain behind her smile, the darkness behind her façade of joy, and the gray skies overpowering the sun and rainbows. It was a miracle that he had been able to convince Subbu to get her family doctor changed to someone with board certification in mental health. She couldn't even imagine where she would be today without his help. Thank you appa. Thank you so much.

"Do you really think this is the best for Varun?" Subbu spat at her. "You think it's okay to raise him without his father? You think he'll be better off with divorced parents?"

"Yes, I think so. You can definitely be a part of his life. You're his father, and I would never take that right away. But he can't grow up watching a bitter marriage between his parents. He can't grow up with a mother who's constantly unhappy."

Before he could reply, Ragini made a beeline for her son and lifted him into her arms. She stomped to the front door and it was only then that Subbu noticed the packed suitcase behind the ajar door.

"Wait! You're leaving right now?!" he shrieked.

"Yes." She dragged the suitcase with her free hand.

"No Ragini, please!" He stood in the front door, blocking her way, desperation clawing at his throat.

"I have to go, Subbu. Don't make this harder than it already is."

"I'll do anything. Counseling, couple's therapy, anything!"

A spark of hope lighted in her eyes. But she didn't know whether she could believe in it. "Maybe we can try that. But I can't stay here for one more minute. I'm sorry."

She pushed Subbu aside and walked out, her baby in one arm and her suitcase in the other. She knew for a fact the world would laugh at her, even insult her for this decision. After all, what legitimate reason did she have to leave her husband? He wasn't physically abusive. He wasn't having an affair. He wasn't unemployed or an alcoholic or a gambler.

But she knew in her heart that she was right. It was the right decision for herself and for her son. Ragini kissed her son's soft forehead, her heart strengthened with courage.

Meanwhile, Subbu slumped onto the sofa, eyes bloodshot and tearing up. His gaze fell upon the photo frame on the side table. He was posing with his newborn son in his hand, his wife by his side. It had all fallen apart. His trembling fingers dragged over the picture, his heart drowning in grief and regret.

You did a number on me

But honestly, baby, who's counting?

I did a number on you

But honestly, baby, who's counting?

.....................................................................................................................

Unity Division Housing Society, Delhi – next day, Sunday, 6 am

Footsteps sounded on the floor above and the ceiling shook causing dust to fall onto the portable cot below. Cries and yells sounded upstairs and the added noise disturbed the sleeping figure on the cot.

"Ugghhh..." Ashok groaned, jerking awake. He sat up on the cot, back aching and joints hurting from sleeping in such a small, uncomfortable bed.

What had the great Ashok Khanna been reduced to? He was living off favors and scraps from the few friends who were still willing (and able) to help him. Currently, he was crashing in the underground basement of an old colleague. The room was tiny and bleak, devoid of any furniture except the cot he was sleeping on and a broken plastic chair on which his bag was sitting.

Ever since Sooraj had taken over his company, Ashok had been reduced to living off such favors. His brother may have never asked him to leave the mansion, but once his assets were seized, cards blocked, and funds frozen, living in that mansion was a wound to his pride. He had left in a huff, determined to get his property back, only to find out that he couldn't even afford a competent lawyer for a civil trial.

He rubbed his forehead, wincing at the throbbing headache as the noise amplified above him. Just then, the basement door burst open and a rush of light blinded him. A figure walked in. Ashok squinted to adjust to the light and recognized him as his friend, the owner of the house.

"Ashok yaar..." he began. "Look, I'm sorry to bring this on you so suddenly... and that too this early in the morning, but... you can't stay here anymore. I have four kids, a wife, and parents. They all live in this same house, and we just can't afford to take in anyone else."

Ashok gaped at his so-called friend.

"Please make sure to move out ASAP. Hopefully by the end of the day, okay?" He walked out as quickly as he had walked in before Ashok could react.

The door slammed shut and Ashok exploded. He roared at the top of his lungs and tore the bedsheet off the cot, throwing it against the broken chair. The action caused a magazine from the top of his bag to fall to the floor. If there was anything that could've angered him more, it was the page the magazine opened to.

Exclusive Interview: Raman Bhalla Enters Global Scene, Makes It Big in Japan

Ashok picked up the magazine and skimmed down the page. It was an interview of Raman and Mihir's as they discussed their venture in Tokyo. Ashok's rage grew with every word, but it was one paragraph that had him erupting like a volcano.

We asked Mihir Arora about his relationship with Raman Bhalla, whom he calls brother but shares no blood.

Interviewer: Mr. Arora, it's said that blood is thicker than water. How has your relationship with Mr. Bhalla endured through obstacles and strengthened into brotherhood?

Mihir Arora: There's a variation to that quote you said. The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb. Raman Bhai and I have been through heaven and hell together. A bond like that can't be broken easily. Our loyalty is bound for life.

Ashok growled and threw down the magazine. Raman Bhalla. God damn Raman Bhalla! That man had everything today. He had gone from rags to riches while Ashok was degraded from riches to rags. He had a brother that shared no blood with him but still pledged his undying loyalty. And Ashok had a brother who was his own flesh and blood but didn't care for him one bit.

Ever since the first day he had met Raman, Ashok had recognized the spark of talent he held. It threatened him to the core, and he had done everything in his power to break him. From giving him extra overtime to making him responsible for projects beyond his capability. Despite all his plans and plots however, Raman had managed to flourish through it, honing his talent. It wasn't until he laid eyes on Shagun that his plan worked. He had managed to steal Shagun from right under Raman's nose. It was his best exploit till date resulting in the most chaos in his enemy's life.

But in the long run, nothing had worked. Raman was successful today. And Ashok wasn't. His frustration peaked, and something in his mind snapped. He was triggered. He was done. He had vowed revenge against Raman a long time back. It was high time he acted on it.

He leaned down and dragged out a safe from beneath the cot. He unlocked the safe and removed a shiny metal glock with a wicked gleam in his eyes. Ashok surveyed the nine mm pistol, his heart darkening with revenge and hatred.

You did a number on me

But honestly, baby, who's counting?

Who's counting?

https://youtu.be/iAv1Y1YIwm8

.....................................................................................................................

A very nice and interesting update please update next part soon

Part 63

Iyer House – one week later, Monday, September 17, 5 pm

A newborn's cry broke out amidst the silent flat. Muffled footsteps traveled from the living room to the bedroom, where the cries came from. The door creaked open and Vandu lifted her head from the bed, peeking at the figure walk in with a furrowed brow.

"Ishu? Tum yahan?" she asked groggily.

Ishita nodded. "Amma market gayi hai," she whispered. "Isiliye main aayi hoon aapki madad karne. Aap so jao, Akka. Kshitija ko main sambhaalti hoon."

She tiptoed to the crying baby in the crib and lifted her into her arms.

"Thanks Ishu. I just fed her so she should be good for a couple hours," Vandu mentioned. "Tum bas iska diaper check kar lena."

"Got it Akka. You go back to sleep. I'll take care of her."

Vandu sighed in relief and lied back down. She had barely gotten a wink of sleep last night, waking up at all hours to feed and soothe her baby. Even though Bala insisted on waking up with her, she had encouraged he get some sleep so he could get through his workday at college the next day.

The bedroom door clicked shut and Ishita softly walked to the living room. She rocked her wailing niece in her arms and gently sat down on the sofa.

"Kya hua Kshitija?" she cooed. "Kyun ro rahi ho baby?" She pulled at the elastic of her diaper and checked her behind. "Diaper to thik hai aapka... Toh phir kya hua?"

Ishita held her niece against her chest and patted her back, murmuring endearments until she quieted down.

"Ole mera baby... Chitti ka accha baccha..."

She rocked the baby in her arms who in turn gazed back with wonder-filled eyes. Ishita's head snapped up when footsteps and chitchat grew louder outside. The front door burst open and Adi, Ruhi, and Shravu entered in their school uniforms.

"Hi Ishimaa!"

"Hi Chitti!"

"Aa gaye tum log?" she said. The litter of kids gathered round and set down their backpacks on the couch. "Kaisa raha school?"

"It was good," Adi replied.

"Hum baby ke saath khelne aaye hai!" Ruhi exclaimed. She extended her arm to pat the baby, but Shravu swatted her hand away.

"Ruhi chuhi! Pehle apne hand wash kar! Meri baby sister ko germs wale hands se touch karegi kya?!" Shravu cried.

"Shravu!" Ruhi gasped. "Woh meri bhi baby sister hai!"

"Shhh!" Ishita shushed them. "Bas karo dono. Yeh aap sab ki baby sister hai. Sab khelna iske saath. Lekin pehle uniform change karo aur fresh ho jao. Phir khelna."

Each of them ran to their rooms to change at record speed. By the time they came back to the Iyer house, their grandmother had returned from the market. While Madhu organized her groceries in the kitchen, Adi, Ruhi, and Shravu kept their baby sister busy under Ishita's watch. One snapped their fingers while another shook a rattle.

By the time Bala arrived home from work and took on baby duty, Ishita could barely pry her children back to the Bhalla house for dinner.

"Raman kahan hai?" Omprakash asked, noting his absence at the dinner table.

"Unko aaj office mein late hoga," Ishita replied.

"Ki musibat paegi hai?" Toshi muttered. "Pichle hafte Romi der se aaya... Te aaj Raman bhi nahi hai... Inna vi ki load hai kaam ka?"

"Mummy, tussi tension na lo," Romi said, slurping on tadka dal. "Bhai ne itni lambi chutti li thi to ab kaam ka pressure badh gaya hai. Kuch din aisa rahega lekin baad mein sab settle ho jaayega."

As Ishita had foretold, Raman didn't come home until midnight. After a hasty dinner of tadka dal, pulao, and wheat rotis, he resumed working in his bedroom, typing away on his laptop with files and reports strewn all over the table.

"Raman, it's past midnight now," Ishita said. "Ab toh so jaayiye..." she pleaded.

"Tum so jao madrasan... Mujhe bahot kaam hai..." Raman replied, without looking up from the screen. "Badi mushkil se ek France ki party haath lagi hai. Aur kal hi meeting rakhi hai. Kisi bhi haalat mein aaj presentation complete karna hai."

Ishita sighed. Despite her numerous pleas, Raman didn't budge. Sighing with defeat, Ishita had gone to bed. Her husband may be invincible, but she happened to be exhausted after a long day.

.....................................................................................................................

Raman's Office – next day, 6 pm

"I understand your point, Mr. Bhalla," a man spoke from the laptop screen in a French accent. "We've been looking to outsource to India for a while. But we're still on the fence about the budget you've proposed."

Raman straightened his posture in his chair and unmuted himself on the zoom meeting. "I can't go any lower than this figure, Mr. Moreau. Our work is of the highest standard and we won't compromise on quality. This is the minimum cost after factoring in labor and material."

"Can you send us official reports on the quality of your work?" Another gentleman had unmuted himself and spoken up. "Have the paper copies scanned and sent to our office."

"Absolutely Mr. Dubois," Raman said. "I'll get on that right away."

"Okay then. We'll discuss your proposal and touch base later this week," Mr. Moreau said. "We'll see you later. Have a nice day!"

"You as well sir. I look forward to hearing from you."

The zoom meeting ended and Raman shut his laptop. Immediately, he began shuffling through the files on his desk, looking for those quality reports. He ought to scan and send them before it slipped his mind.

He looked through one file after another, muttering in frustration when he couldn't find those reports anywhere. They were supposed to be in a red folder, but there was not one red folder on his desk.

"Kahan rakh di maine file?" he groaned.

After looking through every drawer of his desk, he thought of calling home. Maybe he had forgotten it in his bedroom last night. He picked up his phone and dialed his wife's number. She picked up on the first ring.

"Hello Raman."

"Ishita, tum ghar pahoch gayi clinic se?"

"Haan, bas abhi abhi bacchon ke saath ghar pahochi hoon. Kyun? Kya hua?"

"Zara humaare bedroom mein dekho na, meri ek red file hai kya wahan par? It should be labelled quality reports."

"Ek minute. Dekhne dijiye."

He heard footsteps and a click of the cupboard on the other side of the line.

"Haan Raman, aapki file yahin par hai," she said a minute later.

"Oh thank god..." he sighed. "I need it right now. Jald se jald scan karke client ko bhejna hai. Tum lekar aa sakti ho yahan? Ya kisi ke haatho bhijwa sakti ho? Kya hai, main khud hi aa jaata, lekin bahot kaam baaki hai. Kaafi staff ghar chala gaya hai, aur Mihir aur Romi bhi busy hai."

"Thik hai. Main file lekar aati hoon."

"Thank you so much Ishita. You're a life-saver."

"No worries," she chuckled.

The phone hung up, and Raman breathed a sigh of relief. While he waited for his wife, he began drafting emails to his French clients. Twenty minutes later, his phone chimed with a text message.

Ishita: Just parked the car by your office. I've got your file.

Raman smiled and typed back a reply.

Raman: I'll come get it. You don't have to come upstairs.

He had already made her drive all the way out here. The least he could do was climb down the stairs to get the file.

Ishita: Okay

He shut his laptop and jogged downstairs to the building parking lot. As he opened the front entrance of his office building, Ishita emerged from her car.

"Thank you so so much Ishita..." Raman sighed. His pace quickened and he almost jogged the last step as he approached her. "Tumne mera bahot bada kaam kar diya. Sorry for making you drive all the way out here."

"No problem Raman," she chuckled. "This just means you get to make it up to me now." She wiggled her eyebrows playfully.

"Oh I have no problem with that," he drawled. "What do you want? Aapki khidmat mein sab kuch haazir hai." He ended his sentence with a subtle wink.

"Kuch bhi Raman. Main toh sirf mazaak kar rahi thi."

"Mazaak ka waqt nahin hai abhi mere paas madrasan. Tum bas mujhe woh file de do taaki main scan karke bhej saku."

"Thik hai... Deti hoon."

Ishita retrieved the file from the glove compartment of her car and turned around. But before she could hand it to Raman, chaos ensued.

Bang!... Bang!... Bang!...

Three gunshots fired. Ishita screamed his name. The file dropped, papers rustling as they spilled out. Raman felt a blow to his shoulder and he fell to the ground. Ishita lost her own balance and collapsed. Everything happened so quickly, it was hard to tell what happened first.

When Raman got a hold of his senses moments later, the first thing he knew was silence. An eerie swishing sound tunneled through his ears. Somehow, he managed to pull himself up to a sitting position. His vision gradually cleared, and he registered a trickle of blood oozing from his upper arm, pain shooting up to his neck. Three bullets had fired and it looked like he had been hit with one.

Bullets. Gunshots. Raman's eyes widened with shock as it finally sunk in. Someone had fired a gun around him. Around his wife.

Ishita.

Goddammit. She was here. In the line of fire.

With his heart stuck in his throat, he pushed himself onto his feet, uncaring of his throbbing bicep. His vision focused on a scene a few feet away, and his blood turned to ice, terror rushing through his veins.

The love of his life was lying unconscious on the gravel, blood gushing from her midriff, her forest green saree drenched crimson.

"ISHITA!" A blood-curdling scream tore through Raman's throat as he frantically crawled to her. "Ishita! Aankein kholo! Look at me!"

He cupped her cheek and shook her face. No response. It was as good as shaking a doll.

"Ishita!" he cried, desperation clawing in his chest.

In some corner of his mind, his basic knowledge of first aid kicked in. He ripped off his coat – pain lashing through his bicep – and pressed it against her stomach to contain the bleeding. He applied pressure all over, struggling to find the entry wound. There was just too much blood.

"Stay with me madrasan... Please... I beg you..." he sobbed.

"Bhai, are you okay?!"

"What just happened sir?!"

"Did we just hear gunshots?!"

"Is that blood on your shoulder?!"

Mihir, Romi, and the few staff that remained in the building had rushed out at the commotion. They found Raman kneeling over someone. When they were close enough to see who it was, a collective gasp broke out.

"Bhabhi!"

Mihir and Romi crouched close, utterly shocked and dismayed. Raman sniffed and gulped his tears down.

"Mihir, call an ambulance. Right now!" he yelled. "Romi, get security and take everyone inside. Survey the premises and make sure no one else is injured!"

"Yes bhai!"

While Mihir fished his phone out and dialed for the ambulance with trembling fingers, Romi called the security guards to usher everyone inside.

Three minutes later, sirens sounded outside the parking lot and the ambulance pulled in. Ishita was rushed inside and it took off, speeding to the hospital. Raman sat in the back with his wife, holding her hand, as two paramedics worked on her, applying pressure to the wound and stabilizing her vital signs. One of them pulled out a walkie-talkie and said stuff that could only be described as gibberish.

"Incoming! Ambulance 78 to City Hospital. We have a 30-year female, GSW to the lower abdomen. Massive hemorrhage and BP dropping. Have trauma surgeon standing by!"

Raman could only tighten his grip on his wife's hand, hoping to high heaven that she would pull through. She couldn't die. She couldn't die. She couldn't die. The thought circled in his head, echoing louder and louder until he couldn't hold any tears in. They fell unbridled, chasing each other down his cheeks, his eyes bloodshot with terror.

A paramedic tapped his arm and said something about controlling the bleeding in his own gunshot wound but he couldn't hear. He didn't even register the pain shooting through his shoulder, as the paramedic tied a tourniquet around his armpit, tightening it until blood stopped leaking. His couldn't see anything other than his wife bleeding out, lying pale and limp on the stretcher.

"Please God... Don't take her... Please don't take her..." he whispered with fright.

.....................................................................................................................

Emergency Department @ Delhi City Hospital – 6:20 pm

The scene that unfolded at the hospital upon their arrival could only be described as utter chaos.

"I need two liters of o-neg blood stat!" a doctor yelled.

"Page the trauma surgeon!" a nurse shouted.

"Uneven pupillary responses. Get a neuro consult!" an intern cried.

"The operating room is ready for you!" said the charge nurse.

Once the ambulance had pulled in, Ishita had been laid on a gurney and wheeled into the trauma bay for triage. Right now, a swarm of nurses and doctors hovered over her, poking needles and IVs into her arms and flashing lights into her eyes. A hospital monitor beeped at her side, displaying her erratic vital signs. And Raman could do nothing but watch helplessly.

"I-Is she... Is she going to be ok-okay...?" he managed to stutter over the brick of dread in his throat.

No answer.

"IS SHE GOING TO OKAY OR NOT?!" he yelled, coming closer.

A nurse backed him up and pushed him out of the way, holding onto his shoulders despite his desperately flailing arms.

"Sir-" she began.

"Answer me goddamit!"

"Sir!" The nurse raised her voice and almost shook him by the shoulders. "You have to let them work! They'll take care of her. Let's get your arm stitched up in the meantime."

He shrugged her hand away. "My arm's fine. Just help my wife. She's all that matters! Help her please! Save her!"

"We're going to try our best to save her, but you have to give us space to work! Please, just back up!"

Trying isn't enough, he thought. You have to save her. She can't die. She's my everything. Before he could argue as much however, the nurse had sped off to attend to another incoming trauma.

But the universe was not done torturing him. For to his utter horror, the monitor flatlined and began emitting a monotone beep.

Raman's mouth fell open and a strangled cry broke out. Did her heart just stop?

The monitor continued beeping ominously. For a split-second, everyone's heads snapped to the screen, spine-chilling silence permeating through the triage bay. And then, it was mayhem. Before he knew it, Ishita was being wheeled out of the trauma bay and down the corridor to the operating theater.

"Mr. Bhalla, we're taking your wife into surgery," a doctor informed him on their way out. "She's lost a lot of blood. We need to stabilize her and remove the bullet before it does any more damage."

The gurney's wheels squeaked violently as Ishita was pushed down the hall, doctors and nurses jogging alonside. Raman followed them, running to keep up the pace. He managed to clasp his wife's hand from the stretcher, gazing at her pale face with terror-stricken eyes.

"You better fight, madrasan," he gritted out. "Don't you dare try to pull any stunt in there. Just come back to me." His voice lowered to a hoarse painful whisper. "Please come back to me."

The double doors of the operating theater flew open, and the gurney was pushed in. Raman's grip on his wife's hand loosened as she was pulled away. Her hand limped out of his hold, her frail fingers grazing his blood-stained ones. And then, he was left standing all alone in the corridor, as Ishita and her team of doctors and nurses disappeared into the operating theater.

.....................................................................................................................

Waiting Room @ Delhi City Hospital – half an hour later

"Bhalla ji! Ee sab ki ho gaya?!" Toshi wailed. "Ishita... Meri bacchi...!"

"Koi office mein pistol lekar kaise aa gaya?" Omprakash exclaimed, beyond shocked at the turn of events.

"Aiyyo! Meri Ishu ko goli lag gayi!" Madhu weeped. "Yeh sab kaise ho gaya?! Murugan!"

"Periamma, please sambhaaliye apne aap ko," Mihika urged, even as tears streamed down her cheeks. "Kuch nahi hoga akka ko."

"Murugan... Please meri beti ki raksha karna," Vishwa prayed.

Half the waiting room was full of Bhallas and Iyers, all in various stages of grief. Madhu and Toshi were positively bawling. Omprakash and Vishwa kept a stiff upper lip, even as their hearts thudded in terror. Mihika and Mihir's eyes couldn't stay dry for a minute, even as they tried to keep on a brave face to give strength to their elders. Rinki had her arms around her mother, sniffing loudly and knees bouncing in anxiety. Romi paced back and forth, muttering at the failure that their office's security guard was, anger and fear churning in his heart.

Raman took a deep breath from the doorway looking onto his kin, his coat draped over his injured arm. Once Romi and Mihir had called home after the horrific turn of events, there was no keeping them away. It was a miracle that Vandu and Bala had stayed home with Kshitija and Shravu, even if they kept texting and calling for updates every other minute. Simi had gone over to the Bhalla house with Ananya to look after Adi and Ruhi – who were still oblivious of the situation – while the entire family had rushed to the hospital.

"Dekhiye..." Raman began, voice hoarse and thick with emotion. "Aap sab please khud ko sambhaaliye. Aise sab log himmat haar jaayenge toh kaise chalega?"

He kneeled down to where his mother-in-law was seated, taking her hands into his. "Amma, aap hi kehti ho na? Ki aapki Ishu bahot strong hai?"

Madhu nodded.

"Toh phir bharosa rakhiye apni beti par. Use kuch nahi hoga." He couldn't tell who he was trying to convince though. His mother-in-law or himself.

He proceeded to offer words of comfort to his parents and in-laws, consoling them until their sobs and cries subsided to quiet sniffles. Just then, another stab of pain blasted through his arm and he doubled over in pain.

"Raman!" Madhu gasped. "Kya hua tumko?"

"Kuch nahi Amma..."

His excuses went unheard however, as Toshi had already began peeling his coat off. When the tourniquet came into view, his mother cried out in horror.

"Raman! Tujhe chot lagi hai idhar! Mainu laga yeh sab Ishita ka khoon... Lekin tum to..."

"Bhai! You haven't bandaged your arm yet?!" said Mihir, shocked.

"Doctor! Nurse! We need help here!" Mihika called out.

"I'm fine. Goli bas choo ke nikli hai. Mujhe kuch nahi hua, trust me. Rinki, Mihika..." He turned to his sisters. "Mummy-Papa aur Amma-Appa ko neeche le jao. Canteen se kuch khila do."

All four of them vehemently refused.

"Raman, you need medical attention first," Omprakash demanded.

"Mere bete aur bahu ko chot lagi hai. Main kahin nahi jaaungi," Toshi cried.

"Hum Ishu ko chod ke kahin nahin jaayenge," Vishwa declared, speaking for himself and his wife.

Raman was only able to get them to go eat after a peculiar barter. He promised to get his arm stitched while they went to the canteen for food, or at least some tea or coffee. As long as something of sustenance went in their stomach. To his relief, Mihika and Rinki were able to get their crying, sniffling elders down the hall to the cafeteria.

Meanwhile, Romi dragged over a surgical resident, a tray of suture equipment rattling in her hand, while Mihir forced his brother onto a chair. Raman sighed and unbuttoned his shirt with his non-injured hand, giving the resident easy access to his wound.

"He's been bleeding for god knows how long and he won't even tell us!" Romi yelled at the resident, as she injected a shot of local anesthetic into Raman's arm.

"Seriously bhai! What is wrong with you?" Mihir crossed his arms against his chest and glared at his brother angrily. "Agar aap ko kuch ho jaata toh pata hai bhabhi humaara kya haal karti?! Hum unhe kya jawaab dete?!"

Raman swallowed the lump of fear in his throat and looked away while the resident stitched up his arm. He hated needles. The last time he had to go for a blood test, he had latched onto Ishita's hand so hard, she had complained his ear off on the drive home.

Ishita. His love. His life. On the verge of death. He stifled a sob and squeezed his eyes shut, tears leaking from the corner.

"The bullet has just grazed your arm, sir," the resident said, tying off the last suture. "And the tourniquet stopped you from bleeding too much. This could've gone a lot worse for you. You were lucky."

Lucky my foot, Raman thought. He would have taken a thousand fatal bullets if it meant his wife could stay unhurt. The ominous monotone beep of the hospital monitor rang in his head. The thought of living in a world where she didn't exist made him want to tear it apart with his bare hands. The terror gripping his heart gave way to determined resolve. Raman turned to his brothers, nostrils flaring in righteous anger.

"Romi, go back to our office and check all the CCTV footage. I want to know exactly what happened in that parking lot. Where the bullets came from? Who fired that gun, and how? And Mihir, you call Pathak right now. If he doesn't pick up the phone, then go get him yourself. Drag him out of the courtroom if you have to, but get him to drop everything. He needs to file a police report and open a legal investigation into this mess. I want the man who shot my wife behind bars before she wakes up."

"Yes bhai."

"Got it."

Infused with determination, Romi and Mihir set off towards their missions. Meanwhile, Raman slumped down in the waiting room to begin the most excrutiating wait of his life.

.....................................................................................................................

A few hours later – 9 pm

"Bhai, aapke liye black coffee." Rinki held forward a disposable coffee cup full of steaming hot coffee.

"Nahin chahiye," Raman replied curtly.

"Thoda toh lijiye bhai."

"Rinki, don't push it," he gritted out.

"Oye Raman!" Omprakash snapped. "Chup chaap le le, warna meri daant khaayega abhi." Maybe some tough love would finally get him to drink something.

Raman sighed and took the cup from his sister. He couldn't stomach anything right now, but how would he explain that to his family? Deciding against arguing any further, he brought the coffee to his lips to have a drink. Just then, a surgeon in blue scrubs walked in.

"Mr. Bhalla?"

Raman placed his untouched drink on the coffee table and leapt forward to hear the doctor's update. The entire family gathered around him, looking at the surgeon with expectant eyes.

"Yes doctor?"

"We've been able to get Ishita's bleeding under control. Her blood pressure and heart rate were a bit touch and go, but she's finally stabilized enough for the lead surgeon to remove the bullet."

"How long is that going to take?"

"It's hard to say. It all depends on the extent of damage we encounter. But safe to say at least a few hours."

Raman sucked in a harsh breath. "Okay, doctor. Take as much time as you need but... uski jaan bachaa lena. Please," he whispered painfully.

The surgeon nodded. He placed a comforting hand on Raman's forearm and said, "We'll try our very best."

The doctor returned to the operating room as quickly as he had arrived. Raman turned around and faced his family.

"Dekhiye, abhi surgery mein aur kuch ghante lagenge. Aapne suna na, doctor ne kya kaha? Toh ab sab logon ko yahan rukne ki zaroorat nahi hai," he said. "Mihika, tum Amma-Appa ko lekar ghar-"

"Nahin!" Vishwa refused.

"No Raman!" Madhu opposed. "Main Ishu ko aise chod kar nahin jaaungi."

"Toh phir Rinki, tum Mummy-Papa ke saath-"

"Nahi Puttar," Toshi piped in. "Main bhi nahin jaa paaungi."

"Mummy, abhi aap log jayiye. Simi akeli hai ghar pe bacchon ke saath. Aap jaakar Adi aur Ruhi ko sambhaaliye. Agar sab log ghar se bahar rahenge toh dono sawaal karenge. Aur aap log thoda aaram bhi kar lijiye. Phir subah waapis aa jaana. Sab ka ek saath yahan rukne ka koi matlab nahi hai."

Reluctantly, Toshi and Omprakash agreed to their son's suggestion, agreeing with his logic. As they left for home with Rinki, Madhu and Vishwa sat down in the waiting room, resuming their prayers to Murugan. Mihika called Vandu at home to update her on the situation.

Raman, on the other hand, couldn't sit still anymore. He paced back and forth nervously, feeling utterly powerless. His phone chimed in his pocket and he scrolled through his notifications, thankful for the distraction.

Mihir: Police investigation has started. They're going over the crime scene right now. The parking lot has been taped off. Our office will stay closed until further notice.

The tension in his shoulders eased a smidgen. At least something was working in his favor. His office remaining closed was the least of his worries.

Raman: Make sure this case doesn't fall through the cracks. I don't want this case going cold.

Mihir: Don't worry bhai. Pathak is here, and he's put all his other cases on hold. He'll stay on top of this.

Raman: Good

Mihir: I'll stop by at the hospital in a bit. Take care bhai. Make sure you eat something please.

Once Raman was assured of the headway of the police investigation, he opened a text from Romi.

Romi: I'm with the security guard at the office. He says compiling the day's footage will take a few hours to get ready. Something about it being stored on a different drive or something...

Raman: Get it done asap

Romi: Yes, bhai. I'll keep you in the loop.

.....................................................................................................................

A few more hours later – 2 am

Raman shifted awkwardly in the metal chair, the armrests digging into his back. He rubbed his eyes, weary with exhaustion and screaming for sleep. But other than two hours of shut-eye, he couldn't manage to sleep any more. They were still waiting for an update on Ishita, and every minute seemed to stretch as long as a century.

To their relief, the surgeon came out a few minutes later with an update.

"So far we've removed the bullet and repaired the damage. Thankfully none of her vital organs or blood vessels were hit, making it a non-fatal GSW. If all goes well, then we should be moving Ishita to the ICU in the next hour or so."

Raman, Mihir, Mihika, Madhu and Vishwa breathed a sigh of relief. It had been a non-fatal shot, thank god. Good news. This was good news. They could use all the good news they could get.

Rinki and Omprakash returned shortly, after getting a few hours of sleep, while Toshi stayed back in case Simi needed help or the kids woke up. They convinced Madhu and Vishwa to go home on the pretext of offering a hand to Vandu in case she needed help with Kshitija. Besides, Bala and Vandu were both probably distraught and in need of support as well. Despite their hesitation, Mihir and Mihika managed to take Madhu and Vishwa home.

"Bhai, aapko nahi jaana?" Rinki asked after they left. "Aap bhi jaakar thodi der aaram kar lijiye na?"

"No Rinki. I have to stay here," Raman insisted. "Agar main jaana chaahu phir bhi nahi jaa paaunga. My legs won't go."

"I thought as much. Still worth a try though. Here." Rinki sighed and shoved a bag into her brother's hands. "We got you another pair of clothes. Go change and freshen up. Agar bhabhi ne aapka yeh huliya dekh liya toh bahot gussa karengi."

Raman proceeded to the bathroom and almost jumped in his skin when she saw his reflection in the mirror. He had long discarded his coat, but his shirt reeked of dried blood and sweat. His hair was disheveled, face streaked with dried tears, and eyes reddening from grief and lack of sleep. Rinki was right. Ishita would wring his neck for not taking care of himself. But how could he? After all, he was used to her taking care of him.

He discarded his bloody clothes, throwing them into the biohazard waste can, and changed into a fresh pair of pants and crisp shirt. He splashed water onto his face and leaned against the sink, eyes boring into his reflection. In the privacy of the bathroom, his face crumpled as he struggled to hold in the tears which he had so skillfully hid from his family.

Please come back to me madrasan... I beg you... Put me out of my misery...

.....................................................................................................................

Raman's Office Building, Security Cabin – a few hours later, Wednesday, 7 am

Romi drummed his fingers on the desk, waiting for the video to load on the computer monitor. He had stayed up past midnight with the security guard trying to compile the day's CCTV footage. It wasn't until the guard begged to go home that Romi realized how late it was. After a few hours of sleep for himself, Romi had returned to the office at the crack of dawn to complete his unfinished task.

The buffer symbol disappeared and the screen lit up. Romi wheeled his chair closer and squinted at the screen. He fast-forwarded the footage to six pm the previous day.

He saw his bhabhi's car pull in and then his brother walk out the exit. They met in the parking lot and spoke for a minute. Ishita turned back to her car and took out a file. When gunshots fired and blood spurted, Romi jerked in shock.

He watched the same footage from every camera angle. When the back camera revealed a hooded figure in the bushes and a flash of a silver gun, Romi's mouth fell open in shock and horror. He emailed the footage to Raman and Pathak with trembling fingers at the speed of light.

.....................................................................................................................

Meanwhile @ Intensive Care Unit, Delhi City Hospital

Silence permeated through the ICU, interrupted by nothing but the beeping of monitors and the drip of saline. The door creaked open and a doctor walked in, clad in navy scrubs and a white coat. He checked Ishita's vitals and scribbled a note in his paperwork before walking out, straight into a crowd of the patient's family.

Raman, Rinki, and Omprakash began raining questions on him, along with Mihir and Mihika who had returned to the hospital this morning.

"How is bhabhi now?"

"Meri bahu thik toh ho jaayegi na?"

"Akka khatre se bahar hai kya?"

"I'll answer all your questions everyone. Just give me a minute." The surgeon blew a breath and ran his fingers through his salt and pepper hair.

"Doc, Ishita was moved to the ICU over four hours ago, and all we were told was that the surgery was successful," Raman said. "No one has told us how she actually is. If she's out of the woods or not. If she'll make it-"

"Mr. Bhalla, just take a breath..." the doctor urged. "First of all, I want to apologize for not coming sooner. I've been the lead surgeon on four other surgeries, so it's been a long night shift. As far as Ishita is concerned, the surgery did go successfully. The gunshot wound was a flesh wound thankfully, which means no major organs or blood vessels were hit. But she did lose a lot of blood. She also has a mild concussion from when her fall knocked her out which complicates her case. I want to keep a watch over her to make sure she doesn't have any neural deficits when she wakes up."

"But other than that will she be okay?"

"It all depends on how it goes when she wakes up." If she wakes up. "I'm hopeful for a full recovery, but still... keep praying."

The doctor patted Raman's shoulder before proceeding to the next patient. Raman watched his retreating figure, unsure of what to make of his explanation.

"Ishita thik ho jaayegi puttar," his father said, interrupting his whirlwind of uncertain thoughts. "Tu chinta na kar."

Raman gulped and nodded.

"Jeeju, at least ab toh kuch der ke liye ghar chale jaayiye," Mihika urged. "Aap puri raat yahin the. Naa aap thik se soye ho naa aapne kuch khaaya hai. Kuch der ghar pe jaakar so jaayiye, aur kuch khaa lijiye. Hum sab hai yahan par. We'll call you the minute anything changes."

Raman shook his head and walked away, uneager to engage in this debate any further. What good would going home do now? His home was currently lying in a hospital bed.

He sucked in a shaky breath and rounded a corner at the end of the hall, as his phone chimed with an email notification. Groaning in annoyance, he slipped his phone out of his pocket to silence all work emails. But when he read the subject line, he opened the email at light speed.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected], [email protected]

CC: [email protected]

Subject: Yesterday's CCTV footage attached. Two clips from different angles

Raman opened the attached video clip and turned his phone sideways. The video started. Ishita's car pulled into the parking lot. A minute later he came out the door and Ishita emerged from their car. They talked for a bit, and then he saw her pull out the red file from her car. But when she turned back around, Raman saw her shoulders tense up as her gaze fell on something around the corner of the building. Shots fired and they both fell down as Raman had expected but what caused them to fall only became clear when he slowed the video. Realization crashed over him like a ton of bricks.

When he restarted the video, Ishita screamed his name and dropped the file. She saw the gun peek out from behind the corner of the building and pushed her husband out of harm's way. His sideways fall caused the bullet to graze his arm instead of pierce his heart. His wife had saved his life. But that push meant that Ishita lost her own balance and fell forward putting her in the line of fire. A bullet hit her in the abdomen and she collapsed into a puddle of blood.

A broken sob bled through his mouth and his knees wobbled as Raman struggled under the weight of the newfound realization. Ishita had saved his life. Or maybe she had killed him. Based on how the night had gone, he couldn't tell the difference.

When he opened the next clip, the back of the building came into view. A hooded figure crouched amongst the bushes, his back to the camera. He lifted a silver gun and fired three shots. When the figure turned around and ran away, his face came into view. Raman lost every last ounce of strength in his legs.

Ashok Khanna.

Ashok Goddamn Khanna.

The phone dropped to the floor and the glass screen shattered, as Raman's knees collapsed, unable to hold up his weight. His eyes welled up with tears of remorse and his hand shot up to his face, fingers pressing against his nose by the corner of his eyes. His chest heaved with hiccuping sobs.

"Bhai!"

"Jeeju!"

"Puttar!"

Mihir, Mihika, Rinki, and Omprakash had come up behind him, horror etched on their faces. In all the time they had known Raman, he had never broken down like this.

"Bhai, kya hua?" Rinki rubbed his back and kneeled beside him.

Mihir kneeled on his other side, gripping his non-injured shoulder. "Say something bhai!"

"That bullet was meant for me!" Raman screamed. "Romi ne CCTV footage bheja. Woh goliyaan Ashok ne chalaayi thi. Ashok Khanna ne! Woh mujhe maarna chahta tha. Goli mujhe lagne ki bajaaye Ishita ko lag gayi."

Shock slapped across their faces.

"It should be me in that bed... In the ICU... It was supposed... supposed to be me... Not her," he sobbed.

"Aisa nahi hai Bhai! It wasn't supposed to be either of you. And as far as Ashok is concerned, we'll make sure he goes to jail for this!" Mihir insisted.

"Please calm down... please..." Rinki cried. He had never seen her brother this distraught.

All their words fell on deaf ears. Anger and regret racked through Raman's chest.

"Jeeju!" Mihika kneeled in front of him and flicked his chin up with her thumb and forefinger. "Jeeju, stop this right now!"

She cupped his face and shook him roughly, her stern eyes boring into his grief-stricken ones.

"Enough jeeju," she announced, every bit of her feistiness raging through the tone of her voice. "You have to handle yourself. Akka is going to pull through. I'm sure of it. And you need to be presentable enough when she wakes up. Kya kahengi woh apne Raavan ko aise dekh kar?"

A trickle of hope seeped into his heart. Yes... Ishita was going to pull through. She had to. There was no other option. And he needed to be there for her.

Mihika wiped his tears while Mihir and Rinki pulled him up. His sobs lessened until he could finally breath, even as righteous vengeance and a sense of justice turned his spine to an iron rod.

Ashok Khanna... You're going to rue the day you were ever born. I promise you that.

.....................................................................................................................

Part 64

Bhalla House – 9 am

"Nahin! Mujhe school nahi jaana!" Ruhi shrieked. "Mujhe mumma aur papa chahiye!"

"Aise zid nahi karte puttar," Toshi coaxed. "Tu dadi ka accha baccha hai na?"

"Adi, aapne uniform nahin pehni?" Simi asked, seeing him in casual clothes.

"Nahi bua. Aur main tab tak nahin pehnunga jab tak aap humaare sawaalon ke jawaab nahi dete," he replied. "Ishimaa aur papa kahan hai?"

Adi and Ruhi were on a mission. And no one was going to stand in their way.

It had been a weird night. They had come home last evening from their respective football and dance practices with Ishimaa, only for her to go back out to give Papa some file he had forgotten at home. The next thing they knew, everyone had gone out and Simi bua had come over to look after them. They were told everyone had gone out for an errand or two, and Ishimaa and Papa had some work at his office.

Their evening had passed by in silence as they worked on their homework and went next door to play with Shravu and Kshitija. Even so, the tension amongst Simi bua, Vandu periamma, and Bala periappa was unmistakable. Even when dada, dadi, and Rinki bua came home at night, awkward, painful silence had hung in the air. What pricked them the most however, was having to fall asleep without Ishimaa or Papa.

It wasn't like they hadn't stayed without their parents before. Sometimes Ishimaa had a late surgery. Sometimes Papa was working late. They had even spent a week without them when they went to Chennai. But this time, Adi and Ruhi could tell something was off. Ishimaa and Papa would never let them go to sleep without one of them tucking them in.

Their suspicions had been proven right when they woke up this morning to find that Ishimaa and Papa hadn't come home all night. And so Adi and Ruhi had made it their mission to find out where their parents were.

"No! I'm not going to school!" Ruhi stomped over to the couch and plopped down on it. "First get me mumma!" she demanded, slamming her fists on the cushions.

Simi and Toshi exchanged concerned glances. They had no idea what to do now.

"Dekh Ruhi chuhi," Simi said. "Abhi tum log school jao aur phir shaam ko main tum dono ko Ananya ke saath park mein le jaaungi. Thik hai?"

"Nahin! Mujhe park mein bhi nahi jaana aur kisi ke saath khelna bhi nahi hai!" Ruhi cried.

Toshi turned to her grandson, hoping he would be a bit more reasonable. "Adi puttar, tu to samajh na?"

Adi crossed his arms against his chest and joined his sister on the couch. "Tell us where Ishimaa and Papa are first," he demanded.

No answers.

Ruhi finally pulled out her secret weapon. "Aap dono ko meri aur Adi bhaiya ki kasam!"

Simi gasped. Toshi's fingers flew to her mouth. After moments of harsh silence, they exchanged a wary glance. Toshi nodded at her daughter. It was time. They had no other choice. Simi took a deep breath and squeezed between her niece and nephew, putting an arm around each of them.

"Adi... Ruhi... Kal raat ko... Kal raat ko aapki Ishimaa ko... chot lag gayi," she stammered. "Woh abhi... abhi hospital mein hai. Aapke papa bhi wahin hai."

Adi and Ruhi sat silently, their hearts breaking into a million shards of glass which seemed to pierce every pore of their body. Even the act of breathing was painful.

"Chot... matlab?" Ruhi asked. "Kya hua mumma ko?"

"Ishimaa thik ho jaayegi na bua?" Adi said in a small voice.

Simi tightened her arms around the kids. "Aapki Ishimaa jald hi thik ho jaayengi, thik hai? Aap dono kuch galat mat sochna."

Ruhi wrenched herself free from her aunt's hold and stood up, face screwing up in grief and anger. "Mujhe Ishimaa ke paas jaana hai! Mujhe unhe dekhna hai!" she demanded. Tears rolled down her face in earnest.

"Nahi Puttar," Toshi said in a cooing voice. "Tumhe jaane ki koi zaroorat nahi hai. Papa hai wahan par. Dadu, Rinki bua, Chachu-Chitti, sab hai."

"Nahin! Mujhe jaana hai matlab jaana hai!" Ruhi stomped over to her brother and shook his arm. "Adi bhaiya, aap bolo na kuch?!"

Adi gulped past the brick of terror jammed in his throat. Ishimaa... hurt... hospital... It was only now sinking in. Tears welled up in his eyes and his chest heaved in anxiety.

"M-Mujhe bhi hospital jaana hai," he muttered. "Main Ishimaa ke saath rehna chaahta hoon."

"Lekin Adi-"

"Main kuch nahin sunna chahta!" he yelled, his voice going up a few octaves. "Please bua! Dadi! Humein le chaliye na Ishimaa ke paas?! Please...!" he begged.

When Adi and Ruhi looked up at them with eyes full of fear, stubbornness, and anxiety, Toshi and Simi couldn't find it in themselves to deny them anything. Regardless of how much they wanted to shield them from the ugliness of the truth.

And so, Simi had whipped out her phone and dialed Raman's number.

.....................................................................................................................

Meanwhile @ ICU, Delhi City Hospital

Raman had been glued to Ishita's bedside for two hours now. Only two people were allowed in the ICU at a time, which meant the rest of the family had come in one at a time to see her, since Raman refused to leave the room. Even now, while the family left to get some breakfast and coffee in the canteen, Raman sunk into a chair beside the bed and gazed at his wife, lying pale and still in the hospital bed.

Ever since he had watched the CCTV footage, guilt had been wrapped around his throat like a noose, tightening further and further, threatening to squeeze the life out of him. He had immediately called Pathak to get Ashok arrested, who in turn assured him that he was on his way to the police station at that very moment. Raman had the itching urge to go beat up that devil himself, but not until Ishita woke up. Not until he was assured that she would be okay.

Raman leaned forward in his chair and sunk his elbows onto his knees. Ever so gently, he wrapped his hands around Ishita's fragile fingers and brought them to his lips, raining soft kisses on the back of her hand, mindful of the IV in her veins. Tubes and machines and monitors formed a halo around his wife, and once again, his features contorted with heartache. The light of his life had shriveled up, and it was all his fault.

Ashok was his enemy. It was Raman he was coming after. And Ishita was paying the price for it. Why, oh why did he have to ask her to bring the file to his office? Why hadn't he gone home for it himself? If Ishita had never come to his office, then none of this would've happened. Ashok would've come for him, shot him, and walked away. But at least his wife wouldn't have been in harm's way. This was all his fault, Raman thought. He almost choked swallowing such a bitter pill.

He sniffled loudly and gazed at Ishita's face, fingers still wrapped around her hand. He had been osscilating back and forth between hope and despair all morning, savoring the fact that she was alive one minute while tendrils of loss wisped in the darkest corners of his heart the next.

"Wake up, my love. Please..." he whispered. "A year with you isn't enough. I want a lifetime with you... So please keep fighting and wake up. Come back to me... I love you so much..." He breathed out the last words, voice hoarse with heartache.

The door clicked open in the next second, and the surgeon walked in for his mid-morning rounds. As he checked Ishita's vitals and examined her surgical wounds, Raman's phone vibrated. The screen lit up with Simi's name. He stood up from the chair and retreated to a corner of the room to answer the call.

"Yes Simi?" he said.

"Bhai, Adi and Ruhi... they're..." Simi gulped with fright. Sounds of crying interrupted her words, and Raman's spine stiffened on impact.

"Kya hua Adi-Ruhi ko?!" he almost yelled.

"They know bhai. About Ishita. Unhone humein kasam de di toh batana pada."

"Tch tch tch," Raman clicked his tongue in dissappointment. "Kya zaroorat thi unhe bataane ki? Aur kasam dedi ka kya matlab hai? Kasam dene se thodi kuch hota hai?!"

"Aisa nahi hai bhai. Woh dono subah se bahot sawaal puch rahe hai. School bhi jaane se manaa kar rahe hai. Hum kya karte? Woh dono toh hospital aane ki zid kar rahe hai."

Raman sighed and rubbed his eyes with his free hand. He had managed to shield his children from this horrific turn of events but how much longer could he keep this up?

"Nahi... Woh log hospital nahin aa sakte," he decided. "Main nahin chaata mere bacche apni maa ko aise dekhe. Ek kaam karo. Tum unhe phone do."

"Haa bhai, main phone speaker pe karti hoon."

A moment later, he was bombarded with a million questions from two distraught voices.

"Papa, mumma ko kya hua?"

"Humein Ishimaa se milna hai!"

"Adi... Ruhi... Shaant ho jao bacche..." he began. "Dekho, Ishimaa thik ho jaayengi. Yahan sab doctor log unka khayaal rakh rahe hai. Aap logon ko aane ki zaroorat nahi hai."

"Lekin papa, agar Ishimaa ko kuch ho gaya-"

"Nahin beta! Kuch nahi hoga aapki mumma ko!" he said hastily. "Papa pe bharosa rakho. Papa kuch nahi hone denge unhe."

His children argued once again and Raman's heart strained against his rib cage. The door clicked open again and he turned his head to see the doctor leaving.

"Ek minute beta. Ek minute phone hold karo," he said. "Main bas do minute doctor se baat kar lu."

He covered the phone's microphone with his palm before calling out to the doctor, who turned back around to face him.

"How's Ishita now?" he asked, holding his phone away from his ear.

"Her vitals look good, Mr. Bhalla. As I said earlier, we won't know the full extent of damage until she wakes up."

"Okay... thank you."

Instead of leaving however, the doctor pursed his lips as if holding back on saying something.

"Is there something else, doc?" Raman asked.

"Um... Are you talking to your children on the phone?"

Raman glanced at the phone in his hand. "Yes. Why?"

Despite his hesitation, the surgeon said what was on his mind. "Mr. Bhalla, I suggest you let your children meet their mother. I know you don't want them to see her like this, but..."

"But what?"

"You don't want them growing up with any regrets. And neither do you want them blaming you for it."

Raman's brows furrowed in confusion. What regret? And why would his kids blame him? When realization dawned, his brows relaxed and eyes widened.

"Doctor... Do you think..." Air rushed out of his lungs as he struggled to speak. "Do you think this is the last chance for my kids to see their mother alive?"

"I sure hope not. But no one can predict surgical outcomes, Mr. Bhalla. You never know what's going to happen. I see life and death every day and my motto is 'hope for the best, prepare for the worst.' I am hoping that Ishita will make a full recovery, but it's best that we prepare for the worst as well. Rest the decision is up to you."

The doctor left the room, and Raman stared off into space. It wasn't until panicked voices sounded from his phone that he blinked back to the present.

"Simi, Adi aur Ruhi ko lekar yahan aa jao," he declared.

.....................................................................................................................

Adi and Ruhi arrived at the hospital an hour later with Simi. Immediately, they sprinted into their father's arms in the waiting room.

"Papa!"

"Dad!"

Raman wrapped his arms around his children, gathering them close to his chest. He pressed alternate kisses to their cheeks and caressed their backs in an effort to soothe them. "Shhh... Shhh beta... Bas, aise rote nahi..."

When they pulled back, their first question was, "Where is Ishimaa?"

Raman nodded and stood up, clasping their hands. He led them to the ICU and stopped at the door.

"Just wait here okay? I'll take you inside in a minute."

Raman went inside and pulled up the white sheet over Ishita's arms, covering her IVs and making sure none of her wounds or scars were visible. He came back out a second later and beckoned his kids inside.

When they viewed the sight of their mother lying still and lifeless in the middle of tubes, IVs, and hospital machines, their hearts dropped. Adi gasped and sniffed with fright. Huge tears welled in Ruhi's eyes and they rushed down her cheeks.

"Mumma..."

"Ishimaa..."

They tiptoed to her bedside even as their father held them close.

"Mumma," Ruhi gulped. "Please uth jaao na. Agar aap... agar aap nahi uthe toh main... main kabhi brush nahi karungi. Din bhar candy khaaungi. Sab teeth mein cavities ho jaayengi phir bhi," she threatened her mother.

"Haan Ishimaa," Adi joined in. "Main bhi kabhi brush nahi karunga. Aur... aur main... main kabhi padhai nahi karunga. Sirf TV dekhunga aur video games khelunga. Aapko uthna padega Ishimaa!"

Ruhi hiccupped from the force of her sobs. She stepped forward and pressed a soft kiss against her mother's cheek. The warm motherly scent she was used to was replaced by clinical antiseptic.

Adi turned away in fright, unable to see his mother in this condition any longer. He burrowed closer into his father's chest, his back shaking from his sniffles. He had just found his mother. He wasn't ready to lose her so soon.

Raman's heart broke at the scene in front of him. Listen to your kids Ishita... If not for me, then wake up for them at least...

After a few moments in silence, Raman ushered his children outside. He crouched down to their level and wiped their tears one by one.

"Ab rona nahi, thik hai?" he said. "Ishimaa jald hi thik ho jaayengi. Hmmm?"

Adi and Ruhi nodded, wiping away the last of their tears.

"Good," Raman sniffed. "Aap logon ne breakfast kiya?"

"Nahi bhai," Simi spoke up from the sidelines. "Dono ne subah se kuch nahi khaaya."

"Aur jeeju ne toh kal raat se kuch nahin khaaya," Mihika commented.

Ruhi's head snapped to her father. "Papa? Aapne kuch nahi khaaya?"

Raman sighed. Rather than answer his daughter's question, he put forth another suggestion. "Chalo, hum log canteen chalte hai. Let's get you both something to eat."

He held their hands and led them down to the cafeteria. Despite their diminished appetite, they picked out a couple bagels, fruits, and a few juice boxes before sitting down at a table. Raman spread a dollop of cream cheese on two bagels and handed one to each of his kids, coaxing them to eat. As they took a bite of their bagels, Raman poked a straw into a juice box and handed one to both of them.

"Papa, aapne bhi puri raat kuch nahi khaaya na?" Adi asked.

Raman's eyes lowered. Instead of waiting for his answer, Ruhi simply brought her half-eaten bagel to her father's lips. "Papa, aap bhi khaayiye," she urged.

Raman's eyes watered. He hadn't been able to stomach anything since last night, had ignored everyone's entreaties for him to eat or drink or sleep. But when his kids implored him to do so, he couldn't refuse. He had been losing his mind over Ishita all night, but his children were the one thing that could keep him sane. He needed to keep it together for them.

Raman took a bite of Ruhi's bagel. Adi peeled a banana for him. They fed each other bagels, apples, and bananas, drawing strength from each other, clinging to the tiny shreds of hope and support in the midst of a storm.

.....................................................................................................................

Mayur Vihar Police Station – a few hours later, 2 pm

The doors burst open and Pathak stomped in. The last twenty hours of his life had been nothing but chaos. From the news that Ishita bhabhi had been shot, to the police surveillance of the crime scene, to ballistics testing of the bullets found at the scene, to finding the CCTV footage of Ashok Khanna who had fired the shot. Other than the few hours spent eating and sleeping, he had been working nonstop to bring that culprit to justice. And it looked like they were finally getting somewhere.

He approached the main desk of the police station. "Is prosecutor Karan Sehgal here?" he asked.

"Neil!" a voice sounded from the side.

Pathak turned his head and found the man he was looking for. He jogged to him and said, "Did you get him?"

Karan nodded. "We got him. He was holed up in a basement apartment on the far side of town. The police tracked him with his phone records. He's in interrogation with the lead investigator. I'm just about to join them."

"I'm coming with you," Pathak declared.

"No, you're not. You're not a criminal lawyer anymore, Neil. You can't be in interrogation with a suspect. I may be your friend from law school but I'm not going to break the rules for you."

"I'm the victims' legal counsel," Pathak argued. "I can sit in to represent them. Make sure they get the justice they deserve."

Karan sighed. "Fine. But don't say or do anything out of line. Be professional."

After one final nod, Pathak followed Sehgal into the interrogation room. Ashok sat at a table in handcuffs with a court-appointed defense attorney at his side. A police officer circled the table, stopping to wave at the prosecuting lawyer.

"Hey there Sehgal. Look who's here." He pointed at the table. "The one and only Ashok Khanna."

"I see." Karan Sehgal dropped his arrest report onto the table and leaned down to tower over Ashok. "Fancy seeing you here Mr. Khanna. We've been expecting you. I think your buddy Oberoi just got arrested for sexual misconduct. And isn't your brother under investigation for tax fraud too? It was just a matter of time before you got here."

Ashok sneered and looked away.

"Sehgal, why don't you read him his charges?" the officer suggested.

"Oh that's a good idea." Sehgal picked up the file from the report and read aloud, "Two counts attempted murder, two counts aggravated assault, two counts assault with a firearm, unlawful discharge of a firearm, and felony public endangerment." He blew a breath and dropped the file on the table. "Wow Ashok... That's quite a rap sheet, if I do say so myself. Eight charges should put you in jail for a lifetime."

Pathak watched the proceedings from the corner. He had been a criminal lawyer years ago, and he recognized the tactics being used by the prosecutor and police officer to intimidate the suspect.

"Even you know these charges are a bit much," Ashok's defense attorney spoke up. "Lower the charge from attempted murder to attempted manslaugter. And aggravated assault to just assault. Then we'll talk."

Pathak stiffened in shock. Lowering the charges meant a shorter sentence. It meant that Ashok had lost his temper in the heat of the moment and fired his gun, instead of planning it out in advance. To his relief however, Sehgal didn't budge.

"Really? You want me to believe that everything this man did was in the heat of the moment?" Sehgal mocked. "He hid behind a building and waited until Raman came out of the building to fire a bullet. None of this happened in the heat of the moment. It was all pre-meditated. I'm not lowering the charges."

"Listen Mr. Sehgal," the defense attorney replied. "Mr. Khanna was agitated. He has lost almost all his wealth and property. What he did was wrong, but he's not a psychopath. Attempted murder is a bit much. Bring it down to attempted manslaughter."

"How about this? I'll take off the firearm charges, if you plead guilty to attempted murder and aggravated assault."

"And what about public endangerment?"

"Come on counselor," Sehgal huffed. "He fired a gun in public premises. No way am I letting him go on that. Anyone could've been hurt. Anyone could've died. Did you know one the bullets he fired ricocheted off a car and landed in a tree trunk? That bullet could've hit anybody."

Ashok rolled his eyes. "That bullet was only meant for Raman."

"Is that a confession, Mr. Khanna?" Sehgal raised his eyebrow.

"No, it's not!" the defense attorney exclaimed. "That's my client expressing his irritation at the turn of events in his life." He discreetly murmured something to Ashok about keeping his mouth shut.

"Listen Mr. Khanna," Sehgal continued. "We have you dead to rights on CCTV footage and ballistics reports. Take the deal while you can. Plead guilty and spare the victims from the trauma of a public trial."

"Okay wait," the defense attorney countered. "What if my client pleads guilty to aggravated assault if you take off the attempted murder charge?"

Sehgal's jaw dropped. "Are you kidding me? He's almost killed a woman and you're telling me to take off the attempted murder charge? He's lucky she isn't dead yet, otherwise he'd be pleading to murder."

"Well then, if you want him to plead to attempted murder, you have to take off the aggravated assault charge."

Their negotiation continued and Pathak was growing frustrated by the minute. He had witnessed first-hand how much this man had made Raman bhai's life miserable over the past ten years. And now, his bhabhi, Raman bhai's life and breath, was swinging between life and death. He had had enough.

Pathak moved faster than anyone could blink. He charged forward and threw the table aside, gripping Ashok by the collar and slamming him against the wall. Pathak pushed his forearm against Ashok's throat, unhindered by the fact that he was a foot taller and two sizes bigger. As mad as he was right now, he could probably tackle a bull and win.

"Take the goddamn deal Ashok," he growled. "This is the last of the tiny mercies we'll throw at you. Do some good in your life and just take the plea deal."

A shocked prosecuting lawyer and police officer had come up behind him, trying to pry Pathak off Ashok, but to no avail.

"An innocent woman is lying unconscious in a hospital bed because of you," Pathak continued. "Pray to god that she wakes up. For your sake. Because if she doesn't wake up, then I'll make it my mission to send you to jail forever. The basement where we found you will be heaven compared to the hellhole where I'm going to send you."

Despite the pressure on his throat, Ashok chuckled. A wicked smirk crept up his lips. He had meant to shoot Raman to kill him. Turned out, he'd killed him way worse. Mihir, Pathak, Raman... He had managed to kill them all with one shot. So many birds with one stone. So much more bang from one buck.

Pathak fumed seeing him smirk. That's what made him snap. He fisted his hand and brought it forth to punch him, only to be stopped by Sehgal, whose arms came around Pathak's chest to wrench him off Ashok.

"Enough Neil!" Sehgal shouted, dragging him out even as Neil clawed at Ashok. Sehgal didn't let go his friend until they reached the corridor outside the interrogation room.

"What is wrong with you Neil?!" Sehgal yelled, shocked at his behavior. He had never seen an attorney like Pathak lose his professionalism before.

"Just give me five minutes alone with that prick," Pathak gritted out. He made to enter the interrogation room again but his friend pushed him back.

"You know I can't do that. It's already against the rules for you to sit in on a criminal interrogation. The only reason you're here is because you're a friend and you're the victims' legal counsel."

Pathak ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Karan, you have to work out a plea deal. This case cannot go to trial. This man has already put my clients through hell." He blew out a shaky exhale. "If this goes to trial and if anything, and I mean anything, goes wrong then this prick will go off scot-free. I can't let that happen."

"Nothing like that is going to happen," Sehgal insisted. "Even if this goes to trial, we have him dead to rights. There's no way he's getting off."

"No Karan." Pathak shook his head. "You and I both know how messed up the justice system is. One misplaced piece of evidence. One botched testimony. One mistake is all it takes for the lowest of the low to walk free. I just can't take that risk. Ashok can't go free."

Sehgal had no answer. He could only peer at his friend curiously. "What's gotten into you, Neil?" he asked. "I've never seen you this distraught over any case or any client."

"That's because this is isn't just any client. This time it's family. It's about my brother."

"What brother? I thought you were an only child."

"Raman bhai is more than a brother to me. When I lost my job as a criminal lawyer seven years ago, he was the only one who believed in me. The only one who gave me work. He's the reason I'm such a hotshot lawyer today. He's even the reason I met my wife Trisha. Everything I have today is because of him."

"Wow..." Sehgal was left speechless. "I had no idea."

"Karan, this guy has made Raman bhai and Ishita bhabhi's life hell for as long as I can remember. Let's go back inside and give him what he deserves."

"Yes, but I'll do that. You can't go back in there."

"Excuse me?" Pathak furrowed his brows in anger.

"You heard me, Neil. You're too close to this case. You can't be in there."

"But Karan-"

"Just trust me, okay? I do this for a living. I've sent the worst criminals to jail. I won't let Ashok get off. Okay?"

Pathak nodded hesitantly.

"Just have faith."

After those final words of assurance, prosecutor Karan Sehgal entered the interrogation room once again, infused with even more purpose. For now, he had one more reason to bring this culprit to justice.

.....................................................................................................................

General Ward, Private Suite @ Delhi City Hospital – four hours later, 6 pm

Raman paced back and forth in the suite, glancing at his wristwatch every now and again. Ishita had been moved from the ICU to the general ward an hour back and she was due to wake up any minute. She hadn't woken up yet, and Raman was growing impatient. He had refused Romi's suggestion to go for a walk. He had refused when Adi asked him to come home for a nap. He had remained ensconced in his wife's room, frustration and impatience spiking to a peak.

The door opened behind him and he turned to see the doctor walk in.

"Doc, why isn't she up yet?" he asked. "It's been 24 hours. How much longer now?"

"Any minute now, Mr. Bhalla." The doctor checked the monitor and adjusted Ishita's morphine drip.

It took a few minutes, but eventually Ishita's eyelids fluttered. Her head shook slightly and she moaned something unintelligible. Raman watched as she woke up, his heart stuck in his throat.

.....................................................................................................................

The first thing Ishita knew when she came to was searing pain. Not from her gunshot wound. Not from her concussion. The pain shot through her body from her heart and mind and soul, threatening to drown her out.

Gunshots... Blood... The last scene she had witnessed flashed behind her eyelids, and her head shook from side to side, refusing to believe what her eyes had seen.

Raman.

Raman was dead.

The love of her life was gone. She had pushed him out of the way and he had fallen down, but none of it mattered, because a bullet still hit him and his blood still shed. And then she had collapsed and the world had blacked out.

But now, her senses were returning and the dread that had gripped her throat returned in full force. She wanted to scream, shout, and cry out. She opened her mouth to do so, but nothing but a moan fell out.

"Ishita..." a voice called out. "Can you hear me? I'm your doctor. Can you open your eyes for me please?"

No... No... she thought. She couldn't open her eyes. She wanted to die. She couldn't stay alive. Not in a world where Raman didn't exist. Her chest rose and fell with harsh, painful breaths. Tears sneaked out of the corners of her eyes.

"Madrasan... uth ja na..." Her favorite husky voice reached her ears. "Aur kitna tadpaayegi mujhe?"

Raman.

Raman was alive.

The realization had her breaths turning into sobs. With herculean strength, she managed to open her eyelids. Her husband's gorgeous face materialized in front of her eyes, and a wave of relief washed over her.

"Raman..." she squeaked, utterly relieved.

The uncertainty and agony of the last 24 hours reared back and knocked into him so hard, Raman almost doubled over. He stumbled forward and braced his forearm by her head, lowering himself to kiss her on the forehead. His tears fell unbridled, mixing with her own.

"Ishita..." he croaked, gasping for breath. "Thank god you're okay..."

He pressed another long, hard kiss onto her forehead before straightening himself and helping her up. He made room for the doctor to examine her, sitting on the edge of her bed, facing her and holding her hand. His eyes burned into her as if he were scared she might disappear if he blinked. Ishita held her gaze on him with tear-stricken eyes, still convincing herself that he was real and alive and right in front of her. It wasn't until the doctor tapped her shoulder that she tore her gaze off her husband.

"I just want to check your pupillary responses and neural deficits, Ishita," he explained. "Then I'll leave you guys alone."

He flashed a light into each of her eyes. Then he held up an index finger and asked Ishita to follow it with her eyes. Once satisfied with her pupillary responses, he asked about other symptoms.

"Do you feel any pain or pressure in your head? Any nausea, vomiting, or dizziness?"

Ishita shook her head in the negative.

"Do you know what day it is?"

"Um... Tuesday, September 18?" She said yesterday's date.

"Close enough. It's actually Wednesday, September 19 today. You've been unconscious for 24 hours so it makes sense you'd think that. But other than that, you seem to be doing well. Your vitals are good, and you don't have any neural deficits."

Raman breathed a sigh of relief.

"Ring for the nurse if your pain gets too bad and we can adjust your morphine drip. I'll take your leave for now."

As soon as the doctor said the words, Ishita's head pivoted to her husband. Raman scooched closer on the bed and gently framed her face with his hands, taking in a sharp, shaky inhale. Their foreheads bumped together and Ishita gripped his wrists, tears streaming down their faces.

"Raman... Are you... Are you okay? Aapko... Aapko goli lagi thi... Mujhe laga ki aap..." Ishita couldn't even finish her terrifying sentence.

"I'm okay... I'm fine Ishita..." Raman breathed. "Mujhe goli sirf chukhe nikli thi. I have nothing but a scratch on my arm." He kissed her cheek. "I was so worried about you. I thought... I thought I lost you yaar..." Every last bit of his desperation was packed into his guttural voice.

"I'm okay, Raman... We're okay..."

A hint of awe and wonder peeked from her voice, as she was grateful for the fact. They really were okay. There was a moment yesterday when she had thought it was the last moment of her life. That she would never see Raman again. Or her children. A tiny shudder rolled through her body.

"Shhh..." Raman rubbed his hand down her back, soothing her shudders. "It's over. It's all over..." he whispered.

In the very next minute, he had his arms around her, his nose digging into her hair. Ishita ignored the dull ache in her abdomen as her arms tightened around her husband, fingers threading into his hair, despite the IV in the back of her hand.

"Don't you dare pull a stunt like this ever again," Raman chided her with a trembling voice. "Tum lecture deti ho tab tak theek hai, par aise shock mat diya karo."

She laughed, despite her contorted features and unending tears. Immediately, she winced at the pain lancing through her abdomen.

"Don't make me laugh," she hissed. "It hurts."

"Sorry... sorry..." He pulled back and surveyed her cautiously. "Are you okay? Is the pain too much? Do you need more morphine? Should I get the doctor? Do you-"

"Raman, Raman, calm down." She pressed her forefinger to his lips. "I'm fine. Just stay here with me."

"I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here. I got you."

He situated himself right beside her and she burrowed her head into his chest. Raman pressed his mouth on her hair, breathing in her scent, holding her close.

"Don't ever leave me madrasan," he whispered. "I won't be able to live without you."

Ishita looked up and met his eyes. "I can't live without you either Raman."

She closed the distance between them and sealed their lips in a kiss, kneading them harshly. Raman matched her passion – almost overpowered it, in fact – pouring all his desperation, anguish, relief, and love into the kiss.

.....................................................................................................................

"Ishimaa..."

"Mumma..."

Adi and Ruhi stood at the threshold of Ishita's room, feet glued to the floor. Half of their being told them to run forward and tackle their mother, while the other half forced them to stand afar lest they accidentally hurt her any further.

"Aao na Ruhi, come here Adi..." Ishita beckoned to her children.

"Ishimaa aapko bula rahi hai beta," Raman said, standing up from the bed. "Aao, daro mat."

Ruhi ran forward, getting the green-light from her parents, and climbed onto the bed into her mother's arms. Ishita hugged her little girl and and rained kisses all over her face.

"Adi, aapko Ishimaa se nahi milna?" Raman asked.

Ishita turned to look at her son, opening an arm towards him, even as the other arm held her daughter close. "Idhar aao Adi," she said.

Adi shook his head. "Nahi... Aapko chot lagi hai... Aapko pain hoga..."

"Mujhe bilkul pain nahi hoga bacche. Mera beta mujhe hug karega toh saara pain chala jaayega."

She beckoned him once more, and this time Adi didn't hesitate. His face crumbled and he ran to his mother, hugging her from the other side. Ishita gathered him close, kissing his forehead and caressing his hair.

"Are you okay, Ishimaa?" he asked, looking up.

"I'm absolutely fine baccha." Ishita kissed his cheek. "Bas thodi si chot lagi thi. I'm completely fine now."

"Mumma, aap kabhi humein chod kar mat jaana," Ruhi cried. "Warna main aapse humesha ke liye katti ho jaaungi!"

"Shhh... mumma bilkul thik hai baby. Aur main apne babies ko chod kar kaise jaa sakti hoon? Huh?"

Ruhi buried her face into her mother's chest and Adi rested his head on her shoulder, their arms enveloping her in a hug. Ishita held them close, kissing and caressing them, breathing in their presence. She had actually thought she would never see them again. And she was eternally grateful to be proven wrong.

.....................................................................................................................

The rest of the evening had been just as chaotic as the last twenty-four hours, but this time, it was the chaos of joy and jubilation.

One by one everyone had come over to see Ishita, relieved that she was out of danger. Toshi and Madhu had both packed a tiffin for everyone's dinner, and for once, neither of them had argued which tiffin was better. They were simply happy to see that spirits had lifted, as everyone shared a fusion Punjabi-Madrasi dinner.

Ishita fed her kids with her own hands, while also urging Raman to take extra helpings of food. She had been heartbroken to know how little they had eaten all day and had resolved to make sure they all ate properly. Raman too, ate heartily, as morsels of food actually went down his throat now.

That night, Ishita sent Adi and Ruhi home with lots of kisses and hugs, even as they promised to return bright and early next morning. Raman had even let them take the next two days off from school, and to their joy, Ishita had permitted for the same. After all, the children needed time to calm down and heal before things returned to normal.

Our coming-of-age has come and gone

Suddenly the summer, it's clear

I never had the courage of my convictions

As long as danger is near

As the clock now struck ten, their boisterous family left for home, leaving Raman and Ishita remained alone in the privacy of the hospital suite.

"Here, have some water."

Raman handed his wife a glass of water and sat down beside her on the bed. Ishita took a sip of water and returned the glass to her husband who placed it on the side table.

"Are you okay, Ishita?" he asked. "Sab log ek saath aa gaye, itni aawaaz kar rahe the... Tumhe zyada takleef toh nahi hui?"

"Absolutely not Raman. Family se kaisi takleef?"

Raman chuckled lightly and draped his arm around her shoulders, pressing his mouth to her hair. Aftershocks of grief and loss still zapped his heart. He had come so close to losing her.

And it's just around the corner, darling

'Cause it lives in me

No, I could never give you peace

"Are you okay, Raman?" she asked, brows furrowing at his nervous demeanor.

Raman laughed bitterly. "No... No, I'm not okay," he gulped. "This was all my fault." He lowered his head and mumbled with downcast eyes.

Ishita cupped his cheek and made him look at her. "What are you saying? How is any of this your fault?" she asked, utterly perplexed.

"Ashok fired that gun. He was there to kill me."

Ishita gasped.

"But then you showed up and the bullet hit you instead of me. I should never have called you there. I should have come home to get the file myself. I'm so so sorry Ishita..."

But I'm a fire, and I'll keep your brittle heart warm

If your cascade ocean wave blues come

"No Raman, none of this is your fault." She brushed her thumb against his cheek. "That bullet could've hit anyone. How is that your fault?"

"How is it not Ishita?" he countered. "Ashok was there to kill me, and you got caught in the crossfire. He was aiming for me, and he shot you instead. He put you in danger because of his hatred for me."

His tongue felt like lead in his mouth. Shagun, Ashok, Suraj... They were all the shadows of his past, a part of his baggage. And his wife had paid the price for it. The ghosts were his, but they were haunting her.

"No Raman, aap galat soch rahe ho," Ishita insisted. "Whatever Ashok did is not on you. That's his fault. All of this was just... just a turn of events. You couldn't have done anything to prevent it."

All these people think love's for show

But I would die for you in secret

Raman nodded and pulled her closer, breathing in her scent. "Why did you do it?" he asked suddenly.

"Do what?"

"Push me out of the way. Take the bullet that was meant for me. Did you think you were saving my life?"

Ishita peered at him with wide, curious eyes. "What do you mean?"

"You almost died madrasan. If you would've..." He shuddered to think of it. "If anything would've gone wrong, it would've killed me worse than anything."

She closed her eyes and wrapped an arm around the front of his waist. "I didn't plan it Raman. I saw a gun aimed at you and my body just reacted. It was a reflex action." She looked him in the eyes. "You would've done the same for me."

Raman nodded. He absolutely would have, no questions asked.

The devil's in the details, but you got a friend in me

Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?

"Do you ever regret it?" he asked, heart in mouth.

"Regret what?"

"Building a family with me?"

She abruptly pulled her arm away and wrenched herself out of his hold, a frown marring her lips. Raman was terrified she might answer his question with a yes.

"Ishita-"

"Enough Raman," she said, voice low but stern. "I've had it with you feeling like you don't deserve this. How can you say that I'd regret you or our family?"

"It's not about what I deserve. Because regardless of whether I deserve you or not, I'm never letting you go."

His eyes burned into hers with such intensity, she colored crimson.

And you know that I'd swing with you for the fences

Sit with you in the trenches

Give you my wild, give you a child

"Then what is this about?" she asked.

Raman took a deep breath. "Life with me has never been, and likely will never be easy. Ashok's enmity with me has threatened our family so many times. Even Shagun may be in Australia for now but we'll never know what she's up to. Whether she'll prove to be trouble for our family again. Doesn't any of it scare you?"

Ishita sighed. "Main jhooth nahi bolungi Raman. Of course it scares me. Parivaar par khatra ho toh kise dar nahin lagega? Lekin mera dar mere vishwaas se badhkar nahi hai."

"Matlab?"

She lifted a hand and lightly stroked his cheek. "I mean that I trust you, Raman. No matter what comes our way, I know that we'll get through it as long you're with me."

Give you the silence that only comes when two people understand each other

Family that I chose, now that I see your brother as my brother

Is it enough?

Raman's eyes welled with thankful tears. Such powerful emotion flooded through his being.

"Bas... yahin vishwaas rakhna mujh par madrasan," he implored. "I promise, I'll never let anything happen to you or our family. Ashok will pay for what he did."

"He better pay." Ishita's tone suddenly turned dark. "I thought he killed you." Her hold on her husband tightened. "The bullet hit you, and I thought... I thought I'd lost you. And then... and then a bullet hit me. I thought I would never see you again. Or Adi. Or Ruhi..."

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to force the thought out of her mind. Raman rubbed her back and kissed her forehead.

"Don't think about that now. You're not going anywhere, all right? Adi, Ruhi, me... You're never leaving any of us."

But there's robbers to the east, clowns to the west

I'd give you my sunshine, give you my best

But the rain is always gonna come if you're standing with me

Raman lowered the head of the hospital bed and leaned back, enveloping his wife in his arms. Ishita lied down with him, resting her head on his chest, reveling in the sound of his heartbeat under her ear until she fell asleep.

On the other hand, Raman had a hard time falling asleep, for only one single thought circled in his head. She trusted him. Ishita trusted him. He had no idea whether he deserved it or not, and he chose not to dwell on it any further. She had chosen to love him; she had put her trust in him. And he would never let her regret it.

He didn't know whether the demons of his past would come back to haunt them again or not. But he knew for a fact, he would lay his life on the line to shield her from them.

Strengthened by her unwavering trust, Raman's anxiety and regret assuaged, allowing him to fall into deep sleep for the first time in over 36 hours.

But I'm a fire, and I'll keep your brittle heart warm

If your cascade ocean wave blues come

All these people think love's for show

But I would die for you in secret

The devil's in the details, but you got a friend in me

Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?

https://youtu.be/HpxX4ZE4KWE

.....................................................................................................................

Delhi Criminal Court – next morning, Thursday, 9 am

"Docket ending 2531, State vs Ashok Khanna. Honorable Judge Ambarnath Chaturvedi presiding."

The court officer announced the case, and Raman and Pathak watched from their place in the audience of the courtroom. Ashok was brought in dressed in a black and white striped jumpsuit, hands cuffed. The judge struck his gavel and the courtroom quieted down.

"Order! Order!" he declared. "Ashok Khanna has been arrested on..." The judge ran his finger down the arrest report, counting the charges listed, and gasped. "My my... Ashok Khanna has been arrested on ten different charges! Two counts attempted murder, two counts aggravated assault, two counts assault with a firearm, unlawful discharge of a firearm, felony public endangerment, assaulting a police officer, and obstruction of justice. Prosecutor Sehgal, what are these last two charges about? I see that they were added just this morning."

"Your honor, Mr. Khanna bruised his handling officer last night during interrogation. Once in lockup, he kept interrupting the officers and inspectors for trivial things like the quality of the water and lack of blankets. He disturbed them while they were on duty, interfering with the enforcement of justice."

"Interesting. I guess we should just install A/Cs and hire five-star waiters for our lockups while we're at it, huh?" the judge laughed. "I believe there's a guilty plea in place, right? Is the defendant ready to allocute in open court?"

"Yes your honor," Ashok's defense attorney said. "My client is ready to accept his crimes."

Despite his negotiations yesterday, the defense attorney hadn't been able to get even one of the charges dropped. To his dismay, two more charges had been added on this morning.

Ashok clenched his teeth in anger. If he had the money and resources, then he would've twisted out of this mess with the snap of a finger. But his fate was against him.

"Just a minute, your honor," Sehgal said. "The victim Raman Bhalla has a special request. He would like the defendant to address him while allocuting. Mr. Khanna has been troubling Mr. Bhalla for over a decade. This shooting was simply the nail in the coffin. Mr. Bhalla would like Mr. Khanna to look into his eyes when he accepts his crimes."

Ashok's jaw dropped. He thought he had been humiliated thorougly, but the worst was yet to come. To his horror, the judge agreed to Raman's request.

"Very well. Mr. Bhalla, you can step forward," the judge said.

Raman stood up and straightened his coat, as he walked to the front of the courtroom. He stopped in front of Ashok and lifted his chin, glaring at him.

"You may begin, Mr. Khanna," the judge announced.

Ashok ground his teeth together and his jaw ticked. Raman raised an eyebrow, indicating his impatience.

"We don't have all day, Mr. Khanna." The judge tapped his pencil.

When the judge started getting impatient, Ashok had no choice. His defense attorney had explained it to him; allocuting and apologizing in open court was the only way to get a shorter sentence. He took a deep breath and began speaking.

"On the 18th of September at six o'clock in the evening, I arrived at Raman Bhalla's office with my nine mm glock 19 pistol to kill him. I was frustrated at him one-upping me over the past year. I had lost all my wealth and property, and my rage manifested at him in the most dangerous way." Raman's eyes bore into him with so much anger and intensity, he almost looked away. Almost.

He gulped, but continued speaking. "I fired three shots from behind the building amidst the bushes. One hit Raman in the arm. Another one hit his wife Dr. Ishita Bhalla, who suffered massive bleeding and a mild concussion. I accept my crimes and I... I... I apologize," he gritted out. "I'm so-sorry R-Raman."

Raman stepped forward, coming closer to his enemy until only he could hear. "Now this... is checkmate Ashok. I've defeated you... no gun, no knife. You're going to be sentenced to jail for your crimes. And I'm going to go home to my wife and kids. I'm going to live a lifetime with them. And you're going to rot in prison for the rest of your life. Tujhe tere paapo ki sazaa mil gayi, che foot do inch," he smirked.

Raman walked away and took his seat again, leaving behind a seething Ashok.

"Thank you for your allocution, Mr. Khanna," the judge said. "Given your allocution, I can suggest minimum sentencing. But given the severity of your crimes, you'll have to serve each sentence consecutively, not concurrently."

He pushed up his glasses, wrote something in black ink, and then addressed the courtroom. "I sentence defendant Ashok Khanna to five years for each count of attempted murder, five years for each count of aggravated assault, two years for each firearm charge, four years for public endangerment, one year for assaulting a police officer, and one year for obstruction of justice. That means a total of..." He counted up the years of each sentence. "...32 years. Ashok Khanna is sentenced to prison for 32 years with the possibility of parole. Case closed."

The gavel struck and it was over. Court officers dragged Ashok away while Raman looked on, satisfaction blooming in his chest. He thanked prosecutor Sehgal for his help before returning to the hospital with Pathak, where even more good news awaited him.

"Ishita, your recovery is going extremely well. Better than I had predicted," her doctor said, as he examined her. "I think you should be ready to go home soon. A few weeks of physical therapy and you should be good as new."

"Thank you so much doctor," she replied.

"Thanks doc," Raman said, breathing a sigh of relief.

When the doctor left to go check on his other patients, Ishita turned to Pathak and Raman. "How did it go in court?" she asked.

"Ashok was sentenced to 32 years in prison," Raman revealed.

Ishita's jaw dropped. "32 years!" she shrieked. "What... What was he charged with?"

When Pathak listed off all the charges Ashok had been brought up on, Ishita gawked at him.

"Um... Don't you think... you've gone a bit... overboard?" she gently asked, when she found her voice.

"He tried to kill you madrasan," Raman interjected. "He's lucky to be alive. I would've buried him six feet in the ground if it were legal."

Ishita chuckled and shook her head. Her husband was as protective as they came. She was one lucky girl.

Raman clasped her hand and held on tight, happy to see the IV had been removed. His wife was okay; she would be good as new in no time. And Ashok was gone. It was over. His past was finally behind him, and he could only look forward to the promise of the glorious future.

.....................................................................................................................

Author's Note

✨❤️🤗 Hello my precious readers! 🤗❤️✨

I hope you've enjoyed the last few chapters. They were some that I've been looking forward to for a long time, and I'm so glad I was finally able to write them.

First of all, let me apologize for any mistakes about medical practices or courtroom proceedings. I doubt someone with a gunshot wound to their stomach would recover so easily, but I've tried my best to keep it as realistic as possible without putting Ishita in mortal danger. I guess you can take solace in the fact that at least I didn't have an entire building fall on her, only for her to come out with nothing but a scratch on her head. Also, I believe that in a criminal trial (even one where the defendant is pleading guilty), the sentencing might happen separately. I just put them together in one scene to speed everything up.

So at this point in my story, all the villains/antagonists are done and dealt with, having been brought to justice, something ITV never ever does. Shagun has lost every person and relationship of his life, even worse than what she did to Raman and his kids years ago. Subbu lost Ragini because of the same thinking that made him leave Ishita. Whether Subbu and Ragini get divorced or go to couples' therapy and get back together is up to you to decide. Basically, the point is, poetic justice has been served.

And now, Ashok has been sentenced to prison. He's the one person who I believe can't be written as grey in any way. He's just pure evil; black through and through. I hope you're happy with the punishment he's received. I didn't want Raman going violent on him or wasting mental energy that could be used on his wife and kids. The idea of him winning this feud without using any weapons or shedding a single drop of blood seemed a lot more badass to me.

The past two chapters are also my way of redoing the bhoot (ghost) track of YHM. Like the show, Ishita acted on her urge to save Raman's life but not by going behind his back and betraying him. I also wanted to show her being legit scared of death, not like the inhuman superhero she was in the show. Woman had a building fall on her in an earthquake, she lost her only pregnancy, and I can't even count how many bullets she was hit with. But the show barely ever focused on her anxiety about her own life.

I also wanted to show Raman differently from the show. Every time Ashok or Shagun plotted against Raman and his family, he fell into a pit of despair, wallowing in self-pity, until Ishita brought him to his senses. I'm thinking of his urge to leave Ishita after AshGun's wedding was called off, and his drunken stupor in the rain after Ishita's miscarriage. I hated seeing him that helpless and pitiful. Where was the sharp, macho CEO we were promised at the beginning of the show? God only knows...

Additionally, this Raman isn't the kind to forget his children in Ishita's absence, neither is he the kind to insult/abuse Ishita when his children are at stake. In the last chapter, Adi and Ruhi were the only ones who could get him to finally eat when Ishita was unconscious. His children are the ones who ground him, who keep him sane. But in the show, he completely forgot to raise Pihu and Adi after the leap (when he thought Ishita was dead). And don't even get me started on his decision to fake-marry Shagun so she could raise Pihu. Because apparently there's no thing like single fathers, right?

Anyways... let's let bygones be bygones and leave the past behind. Instead, how about we talk about the upcoming chapters? Unless you haven't guessed it yet, the next major track coming up is IshRa's pregnancy journey! I can assure you there won't be a miscarriage or surrogacy happening. I'm not gonna lie, I had ideas for both which I have since then scrapped. In fact, when I drafted this story two years ago, I had planned on including a miscarriage just so I could fix the way it was shown in the show (Ishita being an emotionless robot vs Raman drowning in self-pity and sorrow). But I've scratched the idea because I actually have a heart. I can't put my babies through any more trauma.

As far as surrogacy is concerned, I don't think I could do proper justice to it anyway. I've seen this topic addressed on so many ITV shows, but no one has done it right. The only show I can think of that did it somewhat right was "Ek Hazaaron Mein Meri Behna Hai." I'm not sure if you're familiar with that show, but it is the only show that I've seen that tackled medical ethics with proper sensitivity and respect. It showed issues like terminal illness, infertility/surrogacy, and even abortion so beautifully. It's sad to see how the standard of ITV has fallen since then.

Also, now that IshRa's pregnancy is coming up, I feel the need to tell you guys that I'm out of other ideas. Everything that I went out to fix about the show has been done, and I can't thank you guys enough for the love you've shown on my creativity. But do not worry! IshRa's journey as they try for a baby, get pregnant, give birth, and raise all three of their kids will be shown in as much detail as possible. I'll try to show changing family dynamics as well as they adjust to new members being added to the family.

I've tried my best to incorporate all scene requests I've received, but if you guys have any other ideas or any other scenes that you want to see (that I haven't shown yet), then speak now or forever hold your peace. I will try my best to include them, factoring in my own capacity and creativity. Drop your requests in the comments!

As always, stay happy and healthy! Keep showering this fic with all the love, votes, and comments as you have been over the past chapters. I appreciate it so much! Love you guys!!

✨❤️xoxo❤️✨