Author's Scribbling Point

Kem cho dosta??
(Gujrati nhi hun toh bhul chook maaf)

I know ye story par completed ka tag laga diya hai but still mereko ye dalna tha.. pehle socha tha next part main dalungi but ab mood change ho gaya aur idhar daal diya..

"You lied to me!" Serenity burst into the bedroom.

Girish, who had been quietly sipping his tea, was startled by her sudden outburst.

"What are you talking about? What did I lie about?" he asked, setting the cup down carefully on the glass table.

"About Shubhra's parents!" she yelled, her eyes locked on his. "You told me she was the daughter of one of your friends—but that was a lie!"

"What do you mean? She is the daughter of a close friend," he insisted, trying to stay calm.

"Then what's their name?" she snapped, her glare cutting through him.

Girish ran a hand through his hair, clearly flustered.
"That... that I can't tell you."

"Ha! The same worn-out excuse again!" she shouted, her voice trembling with fury. "The truth is, you just don't want me to know!"

In a sudden fit of rage, Serenity grabbed the flower vase from the nearby table and smashed it against the floor.

Girish flinched at the sharp crash. Shards of porcelain scattered across the room like tiny splinters of their breaking trust.

"I told you, Serenity—when the time is right, I will tell you," he said, reaching out to calm her.

But she stepped back, dodging his hand.

"No, Girish. You never will!" she shouted, pointing a trembling finger at him as she took a step forward. "Because you know what? She’s your daughter—your biological daughter—that you had with another woman!"

Girish froze, stunned, staring at her in disbelief. The room fell into a heavy silence.

"What the hell are you talking about, Serenity?" he said at last, his voice low but edged with tension. "Do you even hear yourself? You're accusing me of cheating on you?"

"Indeed!" Serenity thundered, her voice cracking with emotion. "That's the only reason you never told me about her birth parents—because she’s your daughter. The result of your affair!"

Her eyes were red, brimming with tears she was struggling to hold back.

"Oh God, woman! Do you even hear yourself?" Girish groaned, rubbing his temples in frustration. "Who’s putting these absurd ideas in your head?"

"Proof, Mr. Girish Basu. That’s what you need, right? Well, it’s right in front of you!" she snapped, shoving a stack of papers into his hands. "These are the proof—your and Shubhra’s blood test reports."

Girish quickly flipped through the pages. His eyes froze on the paternity test result—it confirmed a biological match.

He let out a dry laugh, almost bitter. "These are fake. Where did you even get them done? They're clearly fabricated. Shubhra is not my biological daughter."

He sank heavily into the cushion chair he had been sitting in earlier.

"You’ve got some nerve denying legitimate proof," Serenity seethed. "I personally collected all the samples—and these aren’t from just one lab, but several different places."

She grabbed his collar, her rage boiling over as she spat out the words she’d been holding back for too long.

Girish gently took her hands off his collar, trying to stay calm.
"Listen, baby… I have never cheated on you—and I never will."

Serenity let out a dry, bitter laugh.
"Huh! You're sick."

She turned away, storming toward the wardrobe. In a rush, she yanked it open, pulled out her suitcase, and began throwing clothes inside.

Girish watched, stunned.
"What are you doing, Serenity?" he asked, stepping closer and grabbing her wrist.

"Leave my hand, Girish!" she snapped, her voice low and dangerous.

"No! Serenity, please, just listen to me—for once!" Girish pleaded, desperation lacing his voice. "I'm telling the truth. Just this once… believe in me."

Serenity didn’t look at him. She pulled her hand free and continued packing, her movements sharp and determined.
"Talking to you is a complete waste of time."

Girish stepped closer, his voice trembling.
"If you leave… what am I supposed to tell the kids? What about Rudra? He's your son, Serenity. Our son."

"Don’t worry. I’ll be back—for him," she said coldly, yanking more clothes from the closet. "I know you have full custody because of the prenup, but I will take my son back."

"But can't you believe me? Even once?" he begged, pacing behind her, his voice cracking.

"No."
Her answer was blunt, final. She didn’t even glance at him.

Girish stood frozen for a moment, then spoke again—softer this time.
"What about Shubhra?"

That name made Serenity pause. She turned slowly and glared at him.

"I know she isn't your biological daughter," he continued carefully, "but she calls you mother. Even if… even if I did cheat—Shubhra is innocent. She’s just a child. What will happen to her when she finds out you're leaving me because of her? Do you know the kind of scar that will leave on her heart?"

His words hung heavy in the room, a mixture of guilt, truth, and manipulation woven tightly together.

"She’ll understand one day," Serenity said firmly, zipping up her suitcase. "And believe me—when she grows up, as a woman, she’ll understand why I had to leave. She’ll be happy I chose myself."

"But—" Girish tried to speak, but before he could finish, Serenity was already out the door.

Down the hallway, in the living room, Shubhra and Rudra sat on the floor surrounded by toys and coloring books. But they weren't playing anymore.

Shubhra’s head was tilted slightly, her small ears catching the raised voices echoing from her parents' bedroom. Her crayon slipped from her fingers. Rudra looked up at her, confused.

But Shubhra didn’t answer. Her eyes were fixed on the hallway, her expression uncertain—too serious for a child her age.

"Please, don't leave me, don't leave us!Ruk ja, tere bina main kya karunga? Mere liye na sahi, baccho ke liye hi ruk ja!" (Stay, what will I do without you? If not for me, then at least for these children, please stay!) Girish pleaded climbing the stairs behind his wife.

"Are you serious, Girish?" she spat, her voice venomous. "Why would I stop? You lied to me, and that's not all - you shattered my trust. I hate you, Girish. I hate you forever. I believed in you, trusted you with my everything, but you proved me wrong. You broke me in ways I never thought possible." Serenity snapped upon him.

"Mom, please don't go!" Shubhra implied, she knows it's happening because of her she  clutched her 5-year-old brother, Rudra, tightly. "Please, Mom, see, Rudra is crying too! Please, for his sake..." But Serenity ignored her. Trying to ignore her existence. She had always showed Shubhra the tender side of her motherhood but currently she isn't able to do it.

Rudra's anguished cries pierced the air, and Shubhra held him closer, trying to comfort him as their mother walked away.

She clutched Rudra tightly, but his sobs only intensified. All he wanted was his mother, but his tears and cries weren't enough to stop her from leaving.

"Sweetheart, I'm so sorry," she whispered benting down infront of her, "But... I can't keep doing this anymore. I'm not strong enough to keep going. Please, try to understand me."
Her hands cradled Shubhra's face, her eyes pleading for empathy and comprehension. Her voice cracked under the weight of her emotions.

She had given in.
For a fleeting moment, motherhood triumphed over everything else churning inside her.

Serenity bent down and gently pressed a kiss to Shubhra’s forehead. Then, without another word, she turned and walked out, the weight of her decision heavy in her chest.

Girish stood at the threshold of the gate, watching her go. As he turned around, his eyes fell on Shubhra, standing silently by the gate, clutching Rudra protectively in her arms.

Without a word, he stormed toward her, snatched Rudra from her grasp, and walked away.

The door to his room slammed shut behind him with a loud thud.

Shubhra stood frozen for a second. Then slowly, she walked toward Serenity, a glimmer of hope flickering in her eyes.
"Maa..." she whispered.

Serenity turned, catching the young girl's expression—a strange, fragile mixture of confusion, pain, and hope.

Before Serenity could say anything, a sharp voice sliced through the silence.

"What the hell do you want from her now, you leech!" Melanie spat, stepping out from the shadows.

Shubhra flinched, instinctively clutching the shawl wrapped around her small body even tighter, her face pale with fear.

"Mom, stop it! It's not her fault," Serenity snapped at her mother.

Melanie's eyes widened in surprise, but before she could speak, Serenity had already turned her attention to the small, fragile figure in front of her.

The 14-year-old girl, petite yet composed, looked up at her with eyes full of unspoken questions and a stubborn hope that refused to die.

"Mom… where are you going?" Shubhra asked, her voice steady. Her gaze was sharp—scrutinizing, too perceptive for someone her age. It made Serenity’s chest tighten.

She didn’t answer.

"And why should she tell you?" Melanie cut in harshly, grabbing Shubhra’s arm and shaking her roughly.

But Shubhra jerked free, without fear, and stepped away from her. Her feet carried her forward—straight to Serenity. She stopped inches away, eyes locked on hers.

"Where are you going?" she repeated, her voice quieter now, but firm.

Then, in a whisper only Serenity could hear:
"Don’t do anything stupid because of me."

Serenity's breath caught in her throat. She stared at the girl—this girl, who should have been breaking down, begging or crying—but instead stood strong, unwavering, with a haunting coldness in her eyes. Eyes that seemed to peer straight into Serenity's soul.

Eyes that unraveled truths she’d never dared to speak out loud.

Those eyes... They resembled someone Serenity knew—too well.
A flicker of recognition passed through her, and it shook her.

"It’s not about you!" Serenity snapped, her jaw clenched in frustration.
Was she really this easy to read? Could a child see straight into her soul, or was it just a lucky guess?

But Shubhra didn’t flinch. Her voice was quiet, almost as if she were speaking to herself.
"You know you don’t have to do this, right? What if… what if you never came back just like  mom?"

The question hit Serenity like a wave, halting her in her tracks. An unfamiliar uncertainty flickered in her chest. She turned to the girl, her gaze softening.

She crouched down beside her, brushing a loose strand of hair from Shubhra’s face.
"Don’t worry. They won’t be able to do anything to me," she said gently. "I’m not that gullible. Believe me, everything will be fine."

Shubhra blinked, pulled from her daze by the calm assurance in Serenity’s voice. Her lips trembled slightly as she replied,
"Just… be careful. Don’t overdo yourself. I don’t want to lose you too."

Her eyes shimmered with emotion as she looked into Serenity’s.

Serenity ran her fingers gently across the girl’s cheek, her touch warm and protective.
"Nothing’s going to happen to me. Just take care of yourself—and everyone else. Okay?"

A fragile silence settled between them, filled only by the quiet weight of things left unsaid.

Meanwhile, Melanie stood nearby, watching the scene with amused detachment. She heard the words but failed to understand the depth behind them. In her mind, Serenity would’ve slapped the girl or sent her away by now.

But instead, this naive daughter of hers stood there, speaking with tenderness and empathy.

Melanie crossed her arms, annoyance creeping up her spine.
Too soft, too good... too annoying.

"That’s enough. Let’s go!" Melanie called out sharply, her voice snapping through the moment like a whip.

Serenity glanced back one last time. She offered Shubhra a small, bittersweet smile—soft and lingering—then turned and walked away.

Shubhra stood silently, watching as the car pulled out of the parking lot and disappeared down the road.
Something stirred inside her—a tangle of emotions she couldn’t name, too complex for her fourteen-year-old heart to unravel. Sadness? Confusion? Fear? Maybe a mix of all.

She stood there for a moment, unmoving, then without realizing it, her feet began to move.
Almost like they had a will of their own, she wandered out of the house, her shawl still clutched tightly around her.

She walked down the familiar lane, eyes vacant, and soon found herself in the nearby park.

The swings creaked in the gentle breeze. A stray leaf danced across the pathway. The air was still—but her heart wasn’t.

Shubhra sat on the empty bench, staring at nothing.
Her mind was spinning, but her face was blank.

She sat on one of the swings as the sky dimmed, the last light of the sun dipping below the horizon. Shadows stretched across the park, wrapping it in a growing quiet.

Her feet nudged the ground now and then, pushing the swing into a slow, rhythmic sway. Her eyes were fixed on the dusty patch beneath her feet, her mind far away.
A few silent tears slipped from her honey-brown eyes, tracing down her cheeks as the weight in her chest refused to lift.

"Hey! What are you doing here alone?"
A familiar, slightly rough voice cut through her thoughts. She blinked and looked up.

Vihaan.
He stood a few feet away, concern etched into his features.

"Vihaan bhaiya!" she whispered, surprised.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, puzzled by his sudden appearance.

Vihaan raised an eyebrow as he walked over and took the swing next to hers.
"Why? Can’t I come to the park without a reason?" he replied casually, though his tone carried a quiet gentleness.

Shubhra sniffled and gave a small nod.
"Umm... of course you can."

She wiped her nose with the back of her sleeve, still avoiding his gaze.

"Why are you crying, crybaby?" Vihaan teased, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he watched her.

"I'm not a crybaby," Shubhra mumbled, pouting as she looked away.

"Aww! My little crybaby doesn’t like her nickname?" he chuckled, reaching over to pinch her cheeks.

"Leave my cheeks!" she protested, swatting at his hands, trying to break free from his grip.

"Aacha baba, okay okay!" he laughed, finally letting go and giving her a gentle pat on the back.
"Let’s go home now, hmm? Uncle’s getting really worried." His voice softened as he nudged her gently, wrapping an arm around her shoulder in a side hug.

Shubhra didn’t say anything. She just nodded quietly, the tears now drying on her cheeks.

___ᴘʀᴇsᴇɴᴛ___

In a hospital room scented faintly with antiseptic and sterile calm, a small, petite figure lay nestled on the oversized bed at the center of the space. The bed, draped in crisp white linens and cushioned with plush pillows, sat beneath a softly upholstered headboard, gently illuminated from behind with ambient lighting that gave the room a serene glow.

Shubhra slowly opened her eyes, greeted immediately by the harsh white light flooding the hospital room. The sterile ceiling stared back at her, cold and indifferent.

She was in a hospital.

Her eyes remained open, but her mind drifted elsewhere—suspended in thought, thoughts that carried a strange, quiet tranquility, as if she were standing at the edge of something vast and wordless.

For a long moment, she didn’t move. She simply breathed, letting the silence press around her.

Then something flickered in her gaze—not fear, not confusion, but something deeper.
A glimmer of understanding… or perhaps a knowing acceptance.

Whatever it was, it softened the tension in her face, settling over her like a fragile truth only she understood.