Nandini lay in her new room, feeling overwhelmed by the unfamiliar surroundings. The new city, college, and life changes had taken a toll on her, leaving her feeling drained and unwell. She tried to focus on her design project, but her mind kept wandering, and her head throbbed with a dull headache.

Missing her parents and the comfort of her old routine, Nandini couldn't muster the energy to join for dinner. She let the silence and darkness envelop her, her exhaustion and homesickness washing over her like a wave.

Sanskar's voice carried a hint of concern as he asked Gopi Aunty, "Did Choti have her dinner?"

Gopi Aunty's response, "No, sir, Nandini beta didn't come out of her room after she came from college," sparked a flicker of worry in Sanskar's eyes.

"Mmm, go and call her for dinner," he instructed, but then changed his mind. "Wait, I'll call her. You serve the plate."

With a gentle stride, Sanskar walked towards Nandini's room, his footsteps quiet on the floor.

He knocked softly on the door, his voice gentle. "Nandini? Choti? Are you okay? Dinner is ready."

Sanskar's eyes widened with concern as he gazed at Nandini's pale face. He gently covered her with a blanket, noticing how she was shivering despite the warmth of the room. As he caressed her forehead, he felt a surge of worry – her skin was burning with fever.

Nandini's exhaustion and illness seemed to have taken a toll on her, and Sanskar couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for not being more attentive to her needs. He sat beside her, his touch gentle as he checked her temperature again.

Sanskar quickly called the doctor, his voice firm and urgent as he explained Nandini's condition. After hanging up, he instructed the maid to bring cold water and a towel to help bring down her fever. As he waited for the maid to return, he sat beside Nandini, gently stroking her hair and trying to comfort her. When the maid arrived with the cold water and towel, Sanskar carefully began to apply the cool compress to Nandini's forehead, hoping to bring down her temperature. His movements were tender and caring, a stark contrast to the distance between them in the past few days.

The doctor's words were laced with concern as he turned to Sanskar. "Mr. Maheshwari, her temperature is quite high. I've administered an injection that should help bring it down by dawn. However, if it doesn't subside, we'll need to consider admitting her to the hospital for further treatment and monitoring." Sanskar's expression turned grave, his eyes never leaving Nandini's pale face.

He nodded solemnly, his voice low and serious. "Please, Doctor, do everything you can to make sure she's okay. I don't want her condition to worsen." The doctor nodded reassuringly before leaving the room, leaving Sanskar to keep a watchful eye on Nandini's fragile state.

As Sanskar gently applied the cool compress to Nandini's forehead, her murmurs pierced his heart. "Mumma, Pops, I miss you..." Her words were a poignant reminder of the pain and longing she had been carrying.

Sanskar's eyes turned cold as he realized that his attempts to distance her from her past and bring her closer to him might have been misguided. He had thought that by erasing her memories of her parents, she would find it easier to accept him.

For the past week, Nandini had been keeping her distance from Sanskar, ignoring his attempts to initiate conversation or share meals together. Every time he tried to talk to her, she would brush him off or pretend not to hear, leaving Sanskar feeling frustrated and concerned.

He had hoped that she would eventually warm up to him and adjust to her new life, but her persistent coldness had created a palpable tension between them. Now, as he sat beside her, watching her struggle with fever, Sanskar couldn't help but wonder if he had misjudged the situation entirely.

As Nandini coughed and woke up to drink water, Sanskar was immediately by her side. "Let me help you," he said, filling a glass with hot water from the flask.

Nandini drank, but in the next moment, she vomited. She braced herself for Sanskar's anger, closing her eyes in anticipation of his scolding. But instead of anger, she felt a gentle calmness. When she opened her eyes, Sanskar was calling for the helper to clean up, his voice cold yet reassuring.

"It's okay, Choti, don't worry." He brought a wash basin for her to gargle with and handed her a glass of water, his movements gentle and caring.

Nandini was taken aback by Sanskar's kindness, expecting disgust or annoyance, but instead, he was treating her with the tenderness of a fragile glass doll. His unexpected compassion left her feeling vulnerable and surprised.

"Bring soup for Choti," Sanskar ordered through the intercom, his voice firm. Turning to Nandini, he said, "You should have something to take the tablet."

Nandini made a face at the medicine on the table, her expression a mix of distaste and reluctance. Just then, the helper arrived with a steaming bowl of soup.

Sanskar took a spoonful and brought it near Nandini's lips, "Drink." She sipped the warm soup, feeling a mix of exhaustion and hunger wash over her, having missed her meal earlier.

The soup was soothing, and she drank it gratefully, her eyes meeting Sanskar's as he fed her, a flicker of surprise at his gentle care crossing her face.

"You sleep," Sanskar said softly, his fingers gently caressing Nandini's head as he helped her lie down. His touch was calming, and Nandini felt her eyelids growing heavy as she succumbed to exhaustion. Sanskar sat down on a nearby one-seater sofa, watching over her with a quiet intensity, his eyes never leaving her face. The dim light in the room cast a soft glow on his features, and for a moment, he just sat there looking at her.

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Nandini's eyes fluttered open, and she felt a gentle hand on her forehead. As she slowly focused, tears welled up in her eyes at the sight of the person beside her. Her heart swelled with emotion, and she threw her arms around him, whispering "Pops" as she clung tightly. The desperation in her hug spoke volumes – as if she'd lose him forever if she let go

"My princess, my baby, what have you done to yourself?" Raman's voice was laced with worry as he held Nandini close, his eyes scanning her face for any signs of distress. Eight long days had passed since he'd last seen his daughter, and the reunion was bittersweet. His gentle touch and tender words conveyed the depth of his love and concern for her well-being.

"Nandu," Nandini's mother called out softly, her voice trembling with emotion. She stood near the door, a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice in her hand, her eyes shining with tears of joy. The sight of her daughter safe and sound brought a mix of relief and happiness to her face.

When Sanskar's personal assistant, Rahul, arrived at their Delhi home in the dead of night, Nandini's parents were consumed by worry. They hastily departed for Mumbai with Rahul in the private aeroplane, their anxiety growing with each passing moment. Upon entering Nandini's room, their hearts sank at the sight of their usually vibrant and energetic daughter lying exhausted and trembling with fever. The contrast between her usual lively self and this fragile state was heartbreaking.

"But how are you both here?" Nandini asked, confusion etched on her face. "How did Mr. Maheshwari allow you in?" She eyed her parents warily, a hint of suspicion creeping into her voice. "That man is always planning something, maybe this is some kind of trap," she added, her mind racing with possibilities.

Rahul's words cleared up the confusion. "Ma'am, sir ordered me to bring them here. You were calling out for them in your unconscious state," he explained, his voice calm and matter-of-fact. Nandini's expression softened, understanding dawning on her face as she processed the information.

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Sanskar was engrossed in his work at his cabin when an employee knocked on the door, waited for permission, and then entered.

The knock was followed by a courteous "May I come in, sir?"

Sanskar acknowledged with a nod or a brief "Yes, come in." The employee stepped inside.

"Sir, my leave application was cancelled," Ritesh said, his voice cracking with emotion. "Please, sir, grant me three days' leave. My mother is undergoing a heart transplant surgery, and she needs me by her side now." Tears streamed down his face as he struggled to compose himself, his eyes pleading with Sanskar to understand the gravity of the situation.

"You're the head of a critical project, Mr. Ritesh," Sanskar said, his voice devoid of empathy. "You can't take leave now. Either get back to work or submit your resignation letter."

Ritesh's eyes welled up with tears as he struggled to swallow his emotions. He knew he couldn't afford to lose his job – as the sole earner for his family, the weight of responsibility was crushing. With a heavy heart, he nodded, choosing to prioritize his family's stability over his mother's desperate need.

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"Ritesh, what are you doing here?" Swara asked, surprise etched on her face. "Aren't you heading to the hospital? You applied for leave, didn't you?"

Ritesh's expression was a mix of disappointment and resignation. "My leave application was cancelled, ma'am," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

Swara's eyes widened in shock. "But why?" she asked, her tone incredulous, as Ritesh recounted his conversation with Sanskar.

Swara stormed into Sanskar's cabin, her anger evident. "Whenever I think you've hit rock bottom, you manage to dig deeper" she said, her words laced with venom.

"What exactly are you trying to say?" Sanskar asked, his tone measured, as he raised an eyebrow in response to Swara's accusations.

"How can you be so heartless?" Swara's voice rose in indignation. "You're stopping a son from being by his ailing mother's side?"

"I'm just being practical," Sanskar said with a shrug. "His going to the hospital won't make his mother better, will it?"

"You know what? I was worried about what made you break our engagement," Swara said, her eyes flashing with anger. "But now, I'm relieved. I've escaped someone like you – a heartless person devoid of emotions." Her words dripped with venom as she glared at Sanskar.

"You're not worthy of anyone's love, least of all mine," Swara's voice trembled with rage. "I hate you, Mr. Sanskar Maheshwari. I hate you from the bottom of my heart" conveying a deep-seated disgust and contempt, emphasizing the depth of Swara's emotions.

As Swara stormed out of his cabin, Sanskar felt a sudden suffocation. He loosened his tie, struggling to breathe. The echoes of her hateful words lingered in his mind, refusing to fade away. "I hate you from the bottom of my heart..." The phrase replayed on a loop, piercing his emotional armor.

Sanskar hastily entered the private room hidden behind the large photo frame in his cabin. His hands shook as he rummaged through the drawer, his panic growing with each passing moment. Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead, his breathing quickening as he searched frantically.

After what felt like an eternity, Sanskar finally found the bottle, half-filled with tablets. He shakily poured two into his palm and swallowed them with a gulp of water. As the medication took hold, his tense muscles slowly relaxed, and his eyes drooped closed. The turmoil in his mind began to numb, the voices – including Swara's piercing words – fading into silence. He sat there, vacant and still, his face a mask devoid of emotion. His gaze drifted into emptiness, like a lost child adrift in a sea of nothingness.

His eyes reflected the hollowness within, a heart heavy with sorrow. The memory of his sister's indifference cut deep, but it was the hatred in Swara's eyes that left him shattered. The weight of her words still lingered, piercing his chest like a knife. He had instructed Rahul to bring Mr. and Mrs. Shekhawat, recalling the doctor's warning that Nandini's health could deteriorate if she didn't get what her heart desired. Yet, a new fear gripped his heart – the fear of losing the people he loved, and the weight of their disapproval.

What if she leaves him?

What if he left alone again?

He closed his eyes, and darkness enveloped him, swallowing him whole. The shadows seemed to deepen, a reflection of the emptiness that had taken hold of his soul.

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