The first rays of sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains of her room, casting a soft glow across the walls. For the first time in weeks, Kiara woke up before the world around her did — not with the heaviness of heartbreak, but with a strange and subtle lightness that stirred quietly within her chest.

She sat up slowly, the sheets falling away as she let out a long breath — not heavy, not bitter. Just... free. Her hand instinctively reached for her ankle, expecting the dull pain that had been throbbing since last night's fall, but it was gone. Or perhaps, she had finally found the strength to rise beyond it — not just the physical ache, but the one buried much deeper.

A faint smile touched her lips — not because everything was okay, but because she finally felt like she would be.

With that thought, she slipped out of bed and padded across the floor. The water from her morning shower ran down her skin like a quiet cleansing, washing away more than just the fatigue of the night.

 It washed away doubt. Fear. The guilt that had never been hers to carry. It was as if she was shedding not just yesterday, but the weight of the many yesterdays before it.

She stepped out of the shower, wrapped herself in a fresh towel, and looked at her reflection in the mirror. 

The girl who used to search for traces of love in Abhir's eyes, who used to silently beg for attention, for clarity, for belonging — she was still there. But stronger. Calmer. Wiser.

Kiara opened her wardrobe and chose a simple yet elegant suit — soft ivory with a hint of pink at the borders, the kind of outfit that didn't demand attention but left a lasting impression. She got dressed slowly, letting every fold fall with grace, every thread hugging her body like armor.

She reached for her vanity, where her box of vermillion lay untouched. Her hand hovered over it for a brief second before she moved it away. No hesitation. No drama. Just choice.

She would not apply the sindoor today.

She would not mark herself with the symbol of a bond that had become too one-sided to bear. Her heart hadn't stopped caring — no, not yet — but today, she chose to care for herself first.

Her eyes then fell on the mangalsutra, glimmering softly against the wood of the table. She picked it up, felt its familiar weight in her hand. A string of black beads woven in tradition, in promises — some kept, some broken. Kiara didn't put it around her neck. Not this time. Instead, she wrapped it around her wrist like a quiet rebellion. A reminder. Not of abandonment, but of resilience.

She tied it snugly like a bracelet, letting it rest against her pulse. Letting herself redefine what this bond meant — not just a wife's identity, but a woman's strength.

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

Kiara descended the stairs, each step steady, unhurried — like a soft declaration of the change within her. The soft fabric of her ivory suit swayed around her as she walked, the mangalsutra glinting subtly from where it now adorned her wrist, not her neck. No sindoor, no hesitant smile — just calm, composed dignity.

As she reached the last step, the warm hum of the morning greeted her. The aroma of freshly brewed tea, the sound of cutlery clinking, and light conversation filled the air. Swarna and Manish looked up from the dining table, and the moment their eyes landed on her, their expressions softened with warmth.

"Kiara beta!" Swarna smiled, rising halfway from her chair, concern still lingering in her voice. "How are you feeling now? Your foot?"

Kiara gave a small nod, the same gentle smile playing on her lips. "Better, Badi Maa. Much better."

Swarna walked over and cupped her cheek affectionately. "You're glowing today," she said softly, surprised by the calm in her tone, the grace in her eyes. "You've always been strong... but today, you're shining."

Before Kiara could answer, Samrat entered from the side with two cups of coffee, one of which he offered her with a bright smile. "Well look who's back on her feet — and stealing the spotlight," he teased, eyes twinkling.

Kiara chuckled lightly, the sound real, unaffected. "Just felt like being myself today," she said, accepting the coffee with a nod of thanks.

From across the room, Charu stood near the window, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. Her eyes flicked to Kiara — to the missing vermillion, to the mangalsutra on her wrist — and for a second, her forced smile betrayed the discomfort she felt. She tried to look indifferent, but something in Kiara's silence — in her effortless grace — unsettled her.

Kiara caught Charu's glance, acknowledged it with the faintest curve of her lips, and then looked away, as if the tension that once bound them had dissolved overnight. As if she no longer had the time or energy to compete in a battle she never asked to fight.

And then, there was the absence.

Abhir wasn't there.

But this time... it didn't matter.

She didn't search the room for him. She didn't ask. She didn't wait.

His absence didn't define her morning, didn't hang like a shadow over her joy. It was just a fact, like the sunshine outside, or the breeze that fluttered the curtains gently.

He wasn't here — but she was.

She was present in her own life again.

And as she sat down at the table, engaging in light conversation with the family, sipping her coffee slowly, Kiara felt something return to her chest — space. The space that had once been occupied by waiting, by longing, by uncertainty. It was hers again.

"Kiara, bhai kahaan hai?" Abhira asked, stepping into the dining area, a slight crease between her brows. She looked around as if expecting Abhir to appear from some corner of the house.

Kiara didn't even glance up immediately. She took another calm bite of her sandwich, chewing slowly, sipping her coffee in between. Then, as if the question hadn't rattled her at all, she replied with a shrug, "Pata nahi, bhabhi. He didn't come to the room last night."

Her voice was even, light — not cold, but distant enough to make it clear: she was no longer waiting for Abhir.

The casualness of her reply surprised everyone at the table, especially Abhira, who blinked in disbelief. "He didn't? Did he tell you where he went?"

Kiara folded her napkin neatly and set it down beside her plate. "No, and I didn't ask." She looked up, her eyes meeting Abhira's with calm finality. "Agar unhe batana hota, toh woh batate. I've stopped expecting explanations."

Manish cleared his throat, trying to diffuse the sudden stillness. "He must be around... maybe he needed some fresh air." But even his voice lacked conviction.

Swarna placed a gentle hand on Kiara's shoulder, pride shining in her eyes more than concern. She could sense the change in her daughter-in-law — the rebirth of a quiet power.

Kiara smiled softly at her and reached for a piece of fruit. She didn't look upset, she didn't sound angry. She just looked... free.

And while the rest of the family tried to process her calm, Charu, standing silently near the doorway, felt something unfamiliar coil inside her — unease.

A sudden sneeze echoed through the quiet morning air, slicing through the delicate silence like a ripple on still water.

Everyone turned toward the source — and there he stood. Abhir. In the doorway.

Abhir stood there — disheveled, hair messy from a sleepless night, eyes slightly bloodshot, clothes still wrinkled from the night before. He looked nothing like the composed Goenka heir. He looked like a man who'd spent the night battling himself — and lost.

his eyes shadowed with restlessness and something deeper — regret. The faint redness in them hinted not just at a sleepless night, but the weight of everything he had been running from. And now... standing there, he had run right into the truth he hadn't expected to hear.

"I've stopped expecting explanations."

He had heard her.

Kiara's voice, calm and laced with quiet finality, rang louder in his ears than any argument ever could. Not bitter, not broken — just... done. And somehow, that stung more than rage ever would have.

Their eyes met.

Her gaze flicked to him without pause, without panic, without a trace of the girl who once waited for his every word, every glance. There was no softness left in her expression — just composure. A cool, unshaken grace that told him she hadn't just moved on from the pain... she had risen above it.

And then — she looked away.

As if his presence didn't stir anything within her anymore. As if he were just another person in the room, no longer the center of her storm. She returned to her breakfast, took another bite of her sandwich, and spoke softly to the table, "Sundays feel more peaceful when they start with silence."

No one responded right away. Not even the clock dared tick too loudly.

Abhir stood frozen in place, the ache settling deeper in his chest as the realization dawned — the woman who used to search for him in every room, in every breath, didn't even flinch at his absence. And now, his return didn't shake her world.

Charu stood a few steps away, her fingers tightening around the edge of the curtain she hadn't realized she was holding. The moment she saw Abhir standing there — lost, vulnerable — her instincts screamed for her to go to him. To ask if he was okay. To reach out like she always had.

But her feet didn't move.

Something held her back.

Maybe it was the way the entire family had turned their attention toward Kiara, as if she was the center now — not Abhir, not Charu. Maybe it was the weight of Swarna's proud smile resting gently on Kiara's shoulders. Or the way Manish looked at his daughter-in-law with something almost fatherly in his gaze — protectiveness, warmth, quiet respect.

Or maybe... it was guilt.

The kind that doesn't roar, but simmers just beneath the skin. The kind that makes your throat tighten when you realize the pain in someone else's eyes once came from you.

Because no matter how Charu tried to justify it — her return, her presence in Abhir's life again — nothing could erase the truth that hung like smoke between them all: She had taken something that wasn't meant to be hers anymore.

She watched Kiara — seated, calm, glowing with a strange kind of peace — and the memory of Kiara's silent hurt returned to her. The way she had looked when she first saw them together. The way she had pulled herself together without falling apart in front of anyone.

Charu had told herself for weeks that Abhir belonged with her. That she was his first love, his unfinished story. But now, watching him stand there with uncertainty in his eyes, and Kiara sitting with grace and strength in hers... she didn't know anymore.

She wanted to go to him. To comfort him. To remind him of what they once shared.

But something deeper whispered:
You were part of the storm that broke her.

And so, she didn't move.

She stood still, her hands trembling, her heart twisting with the realization that perhaps... she hadn't won anything at all.

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

"Samrat!" Kiara called out cheerfully as she stepped into the sitting room, her voice carrying a vibrant energy that hadn't been heard in a while. Her eyes sparkled with something fresh — not forced happiness, but genuine excitement, like she was finally breathing freely again.

Samrat turned, raising an eyebrow playfully as he saw her bounding toward him, her dupatta trailing softly behind her. "maharani sahiba," he teased, "You're glowing like the sun today."

Kiara grinned and clapped her hands lightly. "Aaj hum Udaipur ghoomne chalenge!" she declared, almost like a child announcing a grand plan. "You've come after years, and I won't let you leave without seeing the beauty of my city."

Samrat chuckled. "Hum? As in just you and me?"

"Of course!" she said with a mock gasp. "You need a local to guide you, and I need an escape. It's a win-win."

"Escape, huh?" he asked, eyes narrowing slightly.

Kiara just shrugged, still smiling, though her eyes flickered — not with sadness, but with a quiet rebellion. "Let's just say I'm done sitting around waiting for people to show up. I'd rather go where life calls me."

Unbeknownst to them, just around the hallway corner, Abhir had paused mid-step — hearing her words again. "I'd rather go where life calls me."

Her laughter followed, bright and untethered, as she tugged Samrat's sleeve. "Come on, get ready! Wear something decent. We'll go to the old palace, then for lunch by the lake. And no boring conversations, okay? Only memories."

Samrat gave her a mock salute. "As you command, Captain Kiara."

And just like that, the air around her shifted — not with tension, but with joy. Her voice, her spirit, her energy — it was no longer weighed down by someone else's indecision.

Kiara turned the corner with a spring in her step, her mind already buzzing with plans for the day — the sights, the streets of Udaipur she hadn't wandered in months, the carefree energy she hadn't felt in years.

And then — she collided.

Hard chest. Familiar scent. Strong arms.

Before she could react, she found herself caught — quite literally — in the arms of Abhir.

Her breath hitched as her body instinctively leaned into the familiar hold. One arm around her waist, one bracing her elbow, steadying her like he had done so many times before. But this time, it felt different — not comforting, not grounding. Just... wrong. Or maybe too late.

For a heartbeat, neither of them moved.

Their eyes met. His were wide, startled — hers narrowed, composed. The warmth that once passed between them now hung frozen in the narrow hallway.

"Careful," he muttered, his voice low, rough. More from the sudden rush of holding her again than from concern.

Kiara straightened instantly, stepping back from his grip as if his touch scorched her. She smoothed her dupatta and looked up at him, calm but unshaken. "I'm fine WITHOUT YOU," she said coolly. "Don't worry."

But her words, though polite, carried a sharp edge — you don't need to catch me anymore.

Abhir searched her face, hoping for a flicker of the old Kiara — the one who'd blush when they touched, the one who lingered in silence just to be near him. But she wasn't there. This Kiara didn't hesitate. Didn't wait. She had already let go.

Before Kiara could take another step, she felt a firm grip on her wrist.

Her body stiffened, her breath catching as Abhir pulled her back toward him with a force that surprised them both. She hadn't expected this. She had expected him to stay silent, to let her walk away — just like he always had when things got difficult. But this time, he didn't let her go.

Her heart raced, a mixture of confusion and something else she couldn't quite name bubbling to the surface.

"Abhir—" she started, her voice laced with surprise, but the words faltered as he stepped closer, his gaze intense, searching for something she no longer had the will to offer.

His hand still gripped her wrist, the touch holding her captive, but it wasn't possessive — it was desperate, almost pleading, as though he was trying to stop her from disappearing forever.

"Kiara..." he said her name like it was a question, like he needed to hear her say something that could make everything right again. His voice cracked slightly — betraying the quiet turmoil he hadn't allowed himself to feel until now.

Abhir's gaze remained locked onto Kiara's eyes, his thoughts scattered, heart pounding in his chest. The world around them seemed to slow, each breath hanging in the air like a fragile thread. His hand, still lingering in the space where he had pulled her back, trembled slightly. His mind screamed at him to say something, to make her understand the whirlwind of emotions inside him, but the words eluded him.

And then, as if drawn by some invisible force, his eyes dipped lower — to her lips.

He took a breath, closing the distance, as if the weight of everything was about to come crashing down in that one single moment.

But before their gazes could meet, before their lips could touch, the sudden sound of a voice cut through the tension.

"Kiara!" Samrat's cheerful voice rang out from the hallway, filled with energy and warmth. He appeared around the corner, a wide grin spread across his face as he looked from Kiara to Abhir, oblivious to the charged silence between them. "You ready to go? The day's waiting for us!"

Kiara blinked, her expression instantly shifting from cold to warm, a smile spreading across her face at the sight of Samrat. She took a small, measured step back, away from Abhir, her earlier tension dissolving into something lighter.

Abhir stood frozen, his chest tightening as he watched her quickly turn her attention to Samrat, who seemed so effortlessly at ease with her.

"Yeah," Kiara said, her voice soft and warm now, completely different from the one she had just used with him. "I'll be right there."

Abhir, still standing in the middle of the hallway, felt a heavy weight settle in his chest. It wasn't just that Samrat had interrupted them — it was the way Kiara had responded. Without hesitation, without any trace of the old connection they used to share.

As Kiara turned to walk toward Samrat, she glanced over her shoulder, offering him a brief, polite nod. Her eyes met his for just a second, but there was no lingering. No unspoken words. Just a simple acknowledgment.

And then, she was gone.

Abhir stood there, staring at the empty space where she had been, his mind and heart at war. The fleeting moment between them felt like a lifetime ago now.

And just like that, Samrat had pulled Kiara away from him — not just physically, but emotionally too.

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

The sun had set, and the cool evening breeze swept through the air as Kiara and Samrat returned to Goenka Villa, both laughing and chatting animatedly. The day had been nothing short of liberating for Kiara — a much-needed escape from the weight of everything she had been holding inside. Samrat had been the perfect companion, lighthearted and full of life, offering her a distraction from her thoughts.

As they entered the villa, their laughter echoed through the grand hall, breaking the stillness that had settled in. Kiara, her eyes bright with amusement, playfully nudged Samrat as he recounted some silly joke he'd heard from a street performer earlier in the day.

"That was too good!" Kiara exclaimed, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye as she struggled to control her laughter. "I swear, I'm going to keep that joke in my pocket for the next family gathering."

Samrat grinned, his infectious energy filling the room. "You should! It'll definitely get everyone rolling on the floor.," he added with a wink.

Kiara smiled at his teasing but then, as they walked into the living room, the atmosphere changed. The villa, which had felt so lively during the day, now seemed quieter, as though the air had thickened with an unspoken tension.

Kiara's gaze automatically flickered toward the familiar space where Abhir often sat. But he wasn't there. A strange pang stirred in her chest, one she quickly ignored. She was fine without him. She had spent the day laughing, carefree. She wouldn't let his absence spoil the joy she had found today.

The living room was bathed in the soft glow of evening lights, casting long shadows as Kiara and Samrat sat on the sofa, laughing about their school days.

 Their conversation flowed effortlessly, filled with light teasing and shared memories. Kiara felt a warmth inside her, something lighthearted and free, a stark contrast to the heavy thoughts that had clouded her mind earlier.

Samrat's laughter echoed, and she smiled, her heart a little lighter with each story he shared. The tension from earlier seemed to fade into the background, replaced by the comfort of his company.

And then, the door to the living room opened.

Abhir stood in the doorway, his posture tense, his fists clenched at his sides. His jaw was set tight, his eyes hard but desperate, like a storm that had been brewing inside him for too long. His gaze immediately found Kiara, and without a word, he walked toward them, his steps purposeful and unwavering.

Kiara froze as he approached. Her heart skipped a beat, and instinctively, she pulled back slightly, her breath catching in her throat. But before she could react, Abhir reached her, his large hand closing around hers, gripping it tightly, almost urgently.

"Abhir?" Kiara whispered, her voice barely audible, confusion and a bit of alarm in her eyes.

Without a single glance toward Samrat, Abhir pulled Kiara to her feet, his fingers tight around her hand, as if he was afraid she might slip away. His eyes met hers, not with the anger she expected, but with something far deeper — something he had been trying to hide for so long.

"Abhir, let go!" Kiara's voice faltered slightly, but there was a firmness to her words as she tried to pull back. But he didn't release her.

"Not this time," he muttered under his breath, his voice low, almost pained. "You need to come with me, Kiara. Now."

Samrat stood up, his brow furrowing in confusion, his voice full of concern. "Abhir, what's going on? Why are you—?"

But Abhir didn't even acknowledge Samrat. His focus was solely on Kiara, his grip never loosening as he tugged her toward the stairs, his jaw clenched, a fire in his eyes that Kiara couldn't understand.

"Abhir, please!" she pleaded, trying once more to pull away. "Let me go. You can't just—"

But he wasn't listening. His steps were determined, as if he couldn't control the whirlwind of emotions that had taken over him. It was clear now — whatever control he had tried to maintain was gone. This was raw, impulsive, a man desperate to reach the woman he had pushed away for so long.

Abhir pushed the door to their room open, the sudden rush of air making Kiara's heart beat faster. She stumbled slightly as he pulled her inside, her mind spinning with confusion and a mix of emotions she hadn't been prepared for. His grip on her hand was strong, firm, like he was trying to anchor her to him, as if she would slip away the moment he let go.

"What are you doing, Abhir?" Kiara's voice trembled with a mix of anger and confusion. Her eyes locked with his, but she could see the turmoil churning beneath his steely exterior.

Abhir slammed the door shut behind them, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. He didn't release her hand, his fingers still tight around her wrist as if afraid to let go. His jaw clenched, and he stared at her, his expression raw and almost desperate.

"What are you doing, Kiara?" he shot back, his voice low, filled with frustration and something else — something painful that he couldn't quite bring himself to say. His eyes searched hers, a mix of confusion and anger flashing behind them. "You've been shutting me out. Pushing me away... and now you're fine? You're fine without me?"

Kiara's heart pounded. His words cut deeper than she expected, and for a moment, she could barely process what he was saying. She took a shaky step back, trying to regain some composure, but his grip on her wrist stopped her.

"I have been, shutting you out? Pushing you out?" Kiara's voice was sharp, filled with frustration. She stood her ground, her eyes flashing with anger and disbelief as she took a step toward him. "Really?"

Her chest rose and fell with each heated breath as she stared at him, her words laced with bitterness. She had never felt so betrayed, so misunderstood. It was as if all the weight of her silent suffering — all the nights she had spent wondering, waiting for him to come back to her — was finally crashing down on her all at once.

Kiara's voice trembled with emotion, but her words were sharp, cutting through the tension in the room. "I was the one who kept on making efforts, Abhir." Her voice was firm, but there was a crack in it — the weight of everything she had silently endured, now crashing through. "You were just a part. Or you never were."

She paused, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her hands shaking at her sides. The words had escaped before she could stop them, and now they hung in the air, thick with the truth she had been hiding for so long. The truth that Abhir had never truly seen, never truly understood.

Kiara took a step back, her eyes filled with a mixture of frustration and sorrow. "I gave so much, Abhir. I tried to be there for you. I tried to fix things when you wouldn't." She shook her head in disbelief. "And now, you stand here, telling me that I'm the one pushing you away? You think I've been the one shutting you out?"

Kiara took a step back, her eyes filled with a mixture of frustration and sorrow. "I gave so much, Abhir. I tried to be there for you. I tried to fix things when you wouldn't." She shook her head in disbelief. "And now, you stand here, telling me that I'm the one pushing you away? You think I've been the one shutting you out?"

Her voice cracked, but she quickly gathered herself, not allowing herself to break. "I never stopped trying, Abhir. I never stopped believing that you would come back to me. But you didn't."

Kiara's eyes flashed with pain, and she turned away from him, her breath coming in uneven gasps. "I spent so many nights alone, wondering why you didn't care enough to even talk to me. And now, after all this time, you expect me to just—" Her words trailed off as the realization hit her, like a wave crashing over her.

Kiara's eyes burned with unshed tears, the anger and hurt building up in her chest like an unstoppable force. She took a step closer to Abhir, her voice shaking with emotion but unwavering. "This is so easy for you men, isn't it?" Her words came out sharp, each one cutting through the silence like a blade. "To blame a woman, to make her the villain when things go wrong. To make her feel like everything's her fault."

"You get to walk away, you get to run from responsibility, and then you turn around and expect me to just... accept your absence like it was nothing. You expect me to just move on like your leaving didn't break me into pieces." Her voice wavered but she refused to let it break.

Her eyes burned with frustration as she faced him again, her gaze intense and piercing. "You've been so focused on your own pain, your own struggles, that you didn't even see me. You didn't see that I was dying inside, trying to hold everything together."

Kiara stood before Abhir, her heart pounding, the words she had kept buried for so long finally spilling out. Her voice was low but firm, full of pain and raw emotion. "How do I explain to you what I felt when you chose Charu Di over me?" She paused, taking in a sharp breath as her chest tightened with the weight of the memories. "The one who left you on your wedding day."

The words hung in the air, thick with accusation. Kiara's eyes locked with Abhir's, watching the shock spread across his face. She had said it — the truth he hadn't expected to hear. She saw the sudden realization in his eyes, the shock of hearing that she knew about his and Charu's AFFAIR, about the betrayal that had cut her so deeply.

"You were so willing to forgive her, to run back to her, even after she walked out on you." Kiara's voice broke on the last words, but she quickly composed herself. The anger was still there, raw and burning. "And yet, you pushed me aside, you chose to keep me in the dark about everything, while I was the one standing by you."

Kiara took a step closer to him, her eyes burning with intensity, the hurt in them undeniable. "You left me, Abhir. You chose Charu Di, the one who wasn't even brave enough to face you, to commit. And I—" Her voice cracked, but she steadied herself, "I waited. I waited for you. I believed in you."

Kiara's voice trembled with a mix of frustration and hurt as she stepped closer to Abhir, her words coming out slowly but with piercing clarity. "I was there for you, when Charu Di wasn't." She swallowed hard, her eyes never leaving his. "I stood by you when Charu Di didn't even have the courage to face you, to stand by your side."

Her voice caught in her throat for a moment, the memory of her silent sacrifices flooding her heart. But she quickly pushed it down, refusing to let her emotions take control. "I was there when you needed someone to heal you, when you needed someone to show you that you weren't alone. I put aside my own pain, my own feelings, just to be there for you."

Her chest rose and fell rapidly, the intensity of her emotions threatening to overwhelm her. "But still, you chose her." Kiara's words were sharp, bitter, as she stared at him, the hurt in her eyes undeniable. "You chose the woman who walked away from you on your wedding day. You chose the one who left you stranded in that moment. And where was I? Where was my place in all of this, Abhir?"

The silence between them was deafening, but Kiara didn't back down. "You made your choice, Abhir. You chose her over me. And now, you can't even see that I've been the one holding on to this broken piece of a relationship, while you've been walking away the whole time."

Her voice softened, but the sting of her words remained. "I was never the priority, was I?"

Kiara's words came out in a rush, the pain and frustration in her chest making it hard to hold back. "I felt stupid." Her voice cracked slightly, but she didn't let it stop her. "I felt stupid trying to make you see my love, trying to mend our marriage, trying to believe that everything would get better."

She shook her head, her eyes filled with unshed tears that she refused to let fall. "I tried so hard, Abhir. I put in everything — all my efforts, all my heart, believing that if I just kept trying, you would see me, that we would finally be happy."

Her voice grew quieter but the hurt in it was even clearer. "But all this time, I was the only one trying. I was the only one trying to hold this together." She paused for a moment, the words feeling like they were choking her. "And all the while, you kept pushing me away, like I wasn't even worth fighting for."

Kiara's voice trembled with a mixture of hurt and disbelief as she faced Abhir. She had kept this bottled up for so long, and now it all came pouring out in a rush.

 "Main aapse kya complain karu?" Her words were almost a whisper, heavy with the weight of everything she had been carrying. "Jab meri khudki behen ne mujhe itna bada dhokha diya, aap toh abhi aaye hai meri life mein, but she was there, since I was born."

Her chest tightened as the truth hit her once again — Charu, the one person she had trusted the most, had betrayed her in a way no one else ever could. Kiara's gaze dropped to the ground for a moment, as if she couldn't bear to look at Abhir anymore, the weight of her words hanging heavily in the air between them.

"I was raised with her, shared everything with her." Kiara's voice cracked, but she kept going, unwilling to stop now. 

Kiara paused, trying to steady herself, trying to hold on to whatever was left of her composure. "I trusted her with everything, Abhir. And then she chose to walk away from me, just like that." She snapped her fingers to emphasize how quickly everything had shattered. "And now I'm supposed to just stand here and act like it doesn't matter that she hurt me, that she tore apart the trust I had in her?"

Her voice wavered, but she didn't let it break. "She was my sister. The one who should have been the most loyal to me. But she wasn't. And now you want me to just ignore everything she did and forgive you too?" Kiara laughed bitterly, shaking her head. "I don't even know how to fix this anymore."

The words that Kiara had held back for so long finally erupted from her, but with them came an overwhelming wave of emotion. The pain she had suppressed for so long, the hurt from both Abhir and Charu's betrayals, was too much to carry.

With a choked gasp, Kiara's legs gave way beneath her. She collapsed to her knees, her body trembling with the force of everything she had been holding inside. The weight of Abhir's choices and Charu's betrayal felt like it was crushing her, suffocating her.

Her breath hitched in her chest as she crumpled onto the floor, her hands clutching her stomach as if trying to hold herself together. The tears she had been holding back for so long finally started to spill, streaking down her cheeks as her emotions spilled free.

"I tried, Abhir..." she whispered brokenly, her voice barely audible. Her head hung low, her hands still pressed against the floor as if she couldn't find the strength to lift them. "I tried so hard... and you... you both..."

Kiara's heart felt like it was shattering into a million pieces. Her shoulders shook with each quiet sob, the realization of everything she had endured without even a hint of support from the people she had loved the most. The weight of their actions was too heavy to carry any longer.

She could feel the sting of betrayal not just from Charu, but from Abhir too. The two people she had trusted the most, the ones she thought she could always turn to, had been the ones to wound her the deepest.

"Why?" she whispered, her voice trembling as she lifted her face, looking at him through blurry, tear-filled eyes. "Why did you both have to betray me?"

As Kiara's sobs echoed in the room, Abhir stood frozen for a moment, torn between the guilt that crushed him and the overwhelming need to comfort her. 

The weight of her pain, the rawness of her emotions, hit him harder than anything he had ever felt. He had never seen her so broken, and the sight of her crumpled on the floor, devastated by everything he had done, made his heart ache with regret.

Without thinking, Abhir rushed toward her, kneeling beside her and pulling her into his arms. His chest tightened as he felt her small body tremble against his. She didn't push him away. For a brief moment, she just let him hold her, her tear-streaked face pressed against his chest.

"I'm sorry," he whispered over and over, his voice breaking with the sincerity of his regret.

His hands gently stroked her back, as if he could somehow take away the pain that had taken root in her heart. He knew he couldn't undo the damage, couldn't erase the hurt he had caused, but he needed her to know that he was truly sorry.

For a while, Kiara didn't respond, her sobs muffled by his chest. But she didn't pull away either. In that moment, all she wanted was to feel safe, even if it was just for a second. The warmth of his embrace, though laced with guilt, was the only thing that felt like comfort. She could feel his sincerity, even though the hurt still lingered deep inside her.

Kiara's hands clenched into fists on his shirt, the rawness of her emotions still flooding her heart. She wanted to say something, to yell at him, to push him away, but the exhaustion of it all held her back. The anger, the pain—it was all there, but for now, she just needed to feel something other than the crushing weight of betrayal.

For a few moments, there was only silence, except for her soft cries and his whispered apologies. Slowly, she let herself lean into him, the warmth of his arms giving her a sense of fleeting comfort, even though she knew things would never be the same.

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

Kiara pulled herself away from Abhir's embrace, her hands trembling as she wiped her tear-streaked cheeks. The silence between them was thick, suffocating almost, as she stood there, trying to steady her breathing. She could feel his gaze on her, but she didn't look at him just yet. The weight of everything they had just shared, of his apologies and her own broken heart, felt too heavy to bear.

Her chest tightened as she took a deep breath, the air feeling like it was slipping through her fingers. She didn't know what to say, or how to process the storm of emotions swirling inside her. The pain was still there, still fresh, and as much as she wanted to believe him, there was something deeper, something that kept her from fully opening up to him.

Kiara looked at him then, her eyes a mix of sadness and quiet fury. "Don't," she whispered softly, the words barely escaping her lips. "Don't apologize anymore."

Her voice was fragile, but her words held weight. She didn't want empty apologies. She didn't want words that didn't hold any meaning. She wanted something real, something tangible, but she couldn't tell if it was still possible.

The silence that followed felt even heavier, as if it was consuming them both. She stood there, her body tense, eyes not quite meeting his, but her heart was racing. She had loved him once, she still did in some broken, twisted way, but she wasn't sure if she could ever trust him again.

"You've already said it all," she added, her voice barely above a whisper. "But words aren't enough anymore, Abhir."

Kiara shook her head slowly, as if the very idea of it made her head ache. She wasn't angry anymore, not with him. But the betrayal, the hurt, the fear—those things lingered in her soul like an open wound, and no apology could heal it.

She took a small step back, wiping her cheek again as if trying to erase the last remnants of her vulnerability. She needed to get back to herself. She needed to find her strength again, without relying on him, without waiting for him to fix things that were beyond his reach.

For a brief moment, their eyes met—his filled with regret, hers with something else, something quieter. "I can't be weak for you anymore," Kiara said softly, her tone final. "I can't keep allowing myself to be pulled back into this endless cycle of hurt."

And with that, she took another small step back, her heart heavy but resolute. She didn't want to close herself off, but she couldn't keep living in the shadows of their past mistakes.

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

Kiara walked with slow, steady steps through the corridor, her breath still uneven from the confrontation. Her heart felt heavy, but there was a strange sense of calm settling within her too—like the first stillness after a storm. She found Samrat standing quietly by the edge of the verandah, hands in his pockets, watching the dusky sky turn shades of orange and grey.

She stopped in front of him, her voice soft but clear.
"Thank you, Samrat."

He turned toward her, brows lifting slightly at the sincerity in her tone. She gave a faint smile, a shadow of warmth in her eyes, though pain still lingered behind it.

"Thank you for coming when I needed someone," she said, her gaze steady. "When I called, you didn't ask questions. You just came. And that... meant a lot."

Samrat gave her a gentle nod, sensing the weight in her words. "You don't have to thank me, Kiara. I came because I care."

She looked away for a second, taking in the stillness of the evening before returning her gaze to him. "But now... you can go." Her voice didn't waver. It wasn't cold or dismissive—just firm. Certain.

Samrat blinked, not expecting that. "Kiara—"

She raised a hand lightly, cutting him off, not unkindly. "No, Samrat. You've already done enough. You were my friend when I felt like I had no one. But this..." she gestured vaguely around her, the house, the people, the weight of all the chaos, "this is something I need to face on my own now. I don't want to keep leaning on people anymore. Not you, not anyone."

He studied her for a long second, seeing not the broken girl from yesterday, but a woman who had reached a painful but necessary clarity.

"You're stronger than you think, you know," Samrat said quietly.

She smiled, a little more genuinely this time. "I'm starting to believe that."

There was a pause, a quiet understanding shared between two souls who had held each other up in their worst. Samrat finally gave a small nod and said nothing more. He didn't ask to stay. He didn't try to convince her otherwise. He just respected her choice.

As he walked away, Kiara stood still, watching him disappear down the hallway. For the first time in what felt like ages, she wasn't waiting for someone to fix her. She was done being the one left behind.

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

As the echo of Samrat's footsteps faded down the hallway, the Goenka Villa fell into a still hush. Kiara stood alone in the center of the living room, her back straight, her expression composed, but her fingers faintly clenched around the edges of her dupatta. The house that had been a silent witness to so many whispers, glances, and heartbreaks was about to hear her voice—clear and unwavering.

The click of heels sounded from the corridor. Charu entered first, flanked by Armaan and Abhira. Her face was a mix of uncertainty and cautious curiosity. Armaan looked between the two sisters, sensing the tension like static in the air. Abhira, a little hesitant, gave Kiara a soft smile—one Kiara returned briefly before turning serious again.

Kiara took a small step forward. "I called you all here," she began, her tone steady and firm, "because I need to say something. And I want no whispers behind closed doors after this. No more half-truths. No more silence."

Charu's brows furrowed slightly, her lips parting to speak, but Kiara lifted her hand to stop her. Not this time. She wasn't going to let anyone take over her moment.

Her eyes settled on her sister. "Charu Di... for the longest time, I kept asking myself where I went wrong. Whether I wasn't enough. As a sister. As a woman. As a wife." Her voice trembled for just a moment before she grounded herself again. "But today, I've stopped asking those questions. Because I know now that your betrayal wasn't my failure. It was yours."

Charu's eyes flickered with guilt, and Armaan looked away, uncomfortable.

Abhira nodded slowly, silently giving Kiara the space she needed to continue.

"Abhir..." Her voice faltered just for a second, the name still heavy on her tongue. "You and I... we've been stuck in a loop of what-ifs and maybes. I tried to make our marriage work even when you didn't. I loved you. I stayed loyal to you. Even after I saw the truth in your eyes every time you looked at her."

"Charu di... Abhir... this love story was always yours," she said, not bitterly, not angrily, just truthfully. "This relationship, this bond... it was meant to be between you two. And I? I was just the third wheel. The extra. The convenience that fate pushed in when your story fell apart at the mandap."

Charu's lips parted, the guilt in her eyes turning sharper, glassier. Abhir looked as if he'd been struck, his jaw tightening, hands clenched into fists at his sides. But Kiara continued, unwavering.

Her voice broke slightly but she straightened her back, not allowing herself to cry anymore. Not here. Not now.

"I kept pretending I didn't notice the looks... the silences... the unfinished sentences that hung between you two. I told myself I was being insecure. Dramatic. But I wasn't. I was just... hopeful. Foolishly hopeful."

She glanced down at her wrist, where her mangalsutra hung like a fading echo of the life she had tried to build. She touched it once, softly, then looked up again.

"But no more. I won't fight for a place in a story that never had space for me."

"You both don't owe me apologies. You owe them to yourselves. For the damage you did to each other before I ever became collateral." She let the words sink in, then added, quieter, but fiercer, "I deserved better. And I'll find it. Even if that means walking away from everything I thought I wanted."

She gave them both one last glance—not with resentment, but with release. A farewell in the truest sense.

"This time, I choose myself."

And then she turned, finally, fully, and walked away—her head held high, the silence behind her echoing with the sound of a woman who had finally stopped waiting to be chosen.

As Kiara's final words rang through the air, her back now turned, her steps slow but deliberate, something inside Abhir twisted—tightly, painfully. It wasn't just guilt. It wasn't just regret. It was deeper than that. It was a sharp ache that struck right through his chest, like his heart was being pulled in two directions, and the one walking away was carrying a piece of it with her.

He opened his mouth, almost called out her name—but the words didn't come. His throat was dry, his legs heavy, his shame anchoring him to the floor like chains he had forged himself.

For so long, he had believed it was Charu. Charu, his first love. Charu, the one who'd left him shattered at the altar. He'd clung to that heartbreak like it defined him. He'd wrapped it around his choices, used it as an excuse for everything he couldn't face.

But now, watching Kiara—his wife—walk away with her dignity intact and her spirit finally free, something cracked open in him.

It wasn't Charu his heart ached for.
It wasn't Charu who had stayed when he was lost.
It wasn't Charu who had fought to mend what was already broken.
It was Kiara. It had always been Kiara.

And he hadn't just lost her... he had pushed her away.

His fingers curled into fists at his sides, nails digging into his palms. Regret flooded his chest like a tide, and for the first time, he didn't want to run from it. He wanted to chase after her. Fall to his knees. Ask her to stay. To give him one more chance.

But he didn't move.

Because for the first time, he realized he might not deserve that chance.

Behind him, Charu stood in silence, watching the man she once thought she'd end up with now staring after the woman she had unknowingly replaced in his heart. And somewhere in that silence... she knew it too.

Abhir's eyes lingered on Kiara's retreating figure until she disappeared down the hallway.

And then, under his breath, he finally whispered the truth.

"It was never her... it was you, Kiara. It was always you."

But it was too late.

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

YOU GUYS WANT THIS TO BE END OR WANT ABHIARA TOGETHER, WHILE ABHIR EARNING HER FORGIVENESS?