The mansion stood cloaked in the inky blackness of nighttime, a profound silence settling over its aged stones and manicured gardens. Only the delicate, high-pitched hum of tiny insects, a chorus from the unseen world within the garden's depths, dared to break the stillness.

This subtle symphony drifted clearly to Rakshit, who stood alone on the terrace, the cool midnight air swirling around him. He was engaged in a whispered conversation with his girlfriend, Rutuja, a conversation that hung heavy with unspoken anxieties.

Rutuja and Rakshit's paths had first crossed during their initial year of MBBS, the rigorous medical program forging an unexpected connection between them.

From the very beginning, an undeniable spark ignited, a magnetic force drawing them together.

Over the intervening eight years, that initial attraction had blossomed into something deeper, more profound. Their friendship had steadily bloomed, its roots intertwining and strengthening, creating fertile ground for love to quietly take hold.

Rakshit, in particular, had come to realize the vibrant beauty Rutuja had painted onto the canvas of his life, the richness and melody she had brought into his existence.

The love between them had deepened slowly, like the gradual unfolding of a flower. With that growing affection came a longing, an ache in their hearts when they were apart.

Eventually, Rakshit could no longer contain the emotions swelling within him.

On Rutuja's twentieth birthday, he found the courage to confess his love, the words tumbling out in a rush of vulnerability. The fear that had previously held him back, the apprehension of rejection, evaporated into the night air when she accepted his proposal, her own feelings mirroring his with perfect clarity.

That moment remained etched in their memories, a beacon of pure joy and the starting point of their official journey. It held a special, sacred place in the story of their relationship. They fell for each other more passionately with each passing day, supporting one another through life's inevitable trials.

They had witnessed each other's darkest phases, the moments of vulnerability and despair, yet they had always held on, their grip on each other unwavering.

"You know, I'm planning to take you away on a trip for our anniversary..." Rakshit began, his voice brimming with excitement as he spoke about their upcoming nine years of togetherness.

The words tumbled from him, eager to paint a picture of their future adventure. But his anticipation was abruptly cut short by the somber weight of Rutuja's response.

"We'll... we'll decide about the trip later," she said, her voice lacking its usual warmth. "Maybe... umm... can we meet tomorrow? I need to tell you something." Her tone was laced with an utter seriousness, a deadness that sent a chill down Rakshit's spine.

He felt a knot of concern tightening in his stomach.

They had already been talking for almost two hours, and from the very beginning, Rakshit had sensed a palpable tension emanating from Rutuja.

He had felt her stress, her underlying unease.

He had tried to lighten the mood, attempting to coax a laugh from her with his silly, lighthearted jokes, but she had remained strangely silent, listening to his words without offering her usual playful responses.

"Bacha," he murmured, using his affectionate nickname for her, "are you okay? If there's something you need to say, you know I'm here for you. Please, tell me what's going on."

The gentle softness in his voice, the unwavering love that saturated his tone, caused her to tear up on the other end of the call.

Rakshit strained, desperately trying to decipher the source of her distress, to understand what was troubling her so deeply. But his attempts proved futile. Hearing the faint, telltale sound of sniffling coming through the phone only intensified his tension, amplifying his concern for her well-being.

He whispered sweet, comforting words, hoping to soothe her, to ease her pain, but all he received in return was the sound of her muffled crying. The familiar clenching feeling in his chest, the sharp pang of empathy, reminded him of how much he hated to hear her cry, how deeply it affected him.

"Thoda mujh par reham karo aur rona band karo," he whispered lightly, his voice laced with a mixture of tenderness and a desperate plea.

He tried to comfort her, to coax her into stopping her tears. The desire to be with her, to hold her close and offer physical comfort, grew stronger with each passing second, a burning ache in his heart.

(Please have some mercy on me and stop crying.)

"Ra...kshi...t," she managed to choke out between sobs. "Dad is forc...ing me...to...get marr...ied to his frien...d's son. I don't...wa...nt...to."

The dam finally broke, and Rutuja succumbed to her emotions, her words tumbling out in a torrent of tears, revealing her raw vulnerability.

Rakshit's grip on the railing tightened, his knuckles turning white as he absorbed the impact of her devastating statement. He had been meticulously planning to propose to her on their upcoming anniversary, envisioning their future together, and her words shattered his dreams, smashing every careful plan he had laid out.

"How can he do that?" he asked, his voice laced with disbelief and rising anger.

"You should tell him about me. About us. Tell him how much we love each other... he... he can't..." Rakshit's voice wavered at the end, the tremor betraying his own rising emotions.

His eyes began to sting with unshed tears, mirroring the pain he heard in Rutuja's voice.

"I told him everything," she cried, her voice thick with despair.

"I begged Dad and Mom, but they aren't listening to me. They want their daughter to marr...y the billionaire instead of a doctor. They think that you...don't...deser...ve me...I..." She choked on her own breath, her words dissolving into a fit of coughing as she struggled to regain control of her inner turmoil.

"Since when has this been happening?" Rakshit questioned, his voice regaining a semblance of seriousness, a sharp edge replacing the earlier tenderness.

"From the past...one...year," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. "I wanted to tell you, but..." She trailed off, unable to finish the sentence, knowing very well that her admission had wounded him deeply.

They had made a sacred promise to never keep secrets from each other, to share everything, yet here she was, confessing to hiding such a monumental issue from him for an entire year.

"One year? Are you kidding me right now? One fucking year?!" he lashed out, his anger erupting over the phone line. He slammed his fist against the railing, the force of the impact reverberating through his arm.

"So, tell me now, Miss Rutuja, what are you going to do? Because you must have planned something during this whole year, or are you calling us to meet together so that we can have a mutual breakup from our almost nine years of relationship? Tell me." His voice was laced with retorting fury.

A raw scream born of hurt and betrayal.

He no longer cared about the family members sleeping soundly within the mansion's walls.

"Rakshit... please... try to understand the situation," Rutuja pleaded, her voice laced with desperation.

"I can't. I did everything I could to convince them for a year, but they aren't ready to listen. I can't pressure them more because..."

Rutuja attempted to explain her impossible situation to make him understand the complexities of her family dynamics, but her words were abruptly cut short by Rakshit's rising fury and the heartbreaking crack in his voice.

"Fuck off with your reasons," he snapped, his words laced with bitterness. "Tell me one thing very clearly. Do you want us to break up? Yes, or No?"

He threw the ultimatum at her, forcing her to make an impossible choice, ignoring the burning ache in his heart, the crushing weight of his impending loss. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined witnessing the unraveling of their relationship in this manner.

This was how their love story was going to end?

Just a few hours ago, he had been happily talking to her, dreaming of their future, free from any worries or stress. But within the blink of an eye, he saw his world collapsing around him, crumbling into dust.

And he felt utterly powerless, unable to do anything to protect their shattering bond.

"Rakshit... please... don't make it hard for me... for you," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

She begged him for understanding, for compassion, but he was in too much pain to offer either.

"Yes or No," he repeated, his voice a strained whisper.

Wiping away the trailing tears from his cheeks, he asked her again, forcing her to confront the reality of their situation.

But her silence, the deafening void that followed his question, gave him the answer he had been dreading, the confirmation of his worst fears.

"Fine," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "If that's what you need, then fine. We can end this. You can go to hell if you want, or marry any bastard you want. I won't bother you from now on. But just remember one thing: I won't ever forgive you for giving up on us like this. I was about to propose to you, to ask you to spend your life with me, but here you have already decided on our future. Then fine." The heaviness in his voice was palpable, a tangible weight that hung in the air.

His legs began to tremble, threatening to buckle beneath him. He sank to the floor, leaning his back against the cool, rough texture of the wall. He let his tears fall freely, a torrent of grief and despair washing over him.

Lifting his hands, he clutched at his chest, struggling to catch his breath as he felt his windpipe constricting.

He waited for her to say something, anything, to offer a glimmer of hope, but all he could hear was her continued crying from the other end of the line.

"I'm sorry," he spoke, his voice gentle this time, a stark contrast to his earlier outburst. He was apologizing for lashing out at her, for the harshness of his words.

"Please don't marry anyone else. Please, I can't see you with someone else. I love you. I need you in my life." He cried openly, finally surrendering to the raw emotion that had been building within him.

He wept for her, for himself, for their broken relationship, for the future that would never be.

"Sorry, but we can't be together. I am sorry," Rutuja replied, her voice laced with the same broken tone, the same unbearable sadness.

Before Rakshit could speak further, before he could plead with her, beg her to reconsider, she abruptly ended the call, leaving him stranded in a sea of despair.

"Rutuja? Hello?? You can't LEAVE MEE," he screamed into the phone, his voice cracking with desperation.

But his words were met with only silence, the cold, stark reality of the dead line confirming his worst fears. His fingers trembled uncontrollably as he desperately dialed her number again.

With the same shivering hands, he held the phone to his ear, waiting, praying for her to answer, but no reply came, only the hollow ring of unanswered hope. . . . . . The following morning dawned with a sense of impending departure hanging in the air. Abhay, with a familiar ache in his heart, began meticulously packing his suitcase, preparing for his visit to Patna in just a few short hours.

He considered asking Adhrit to join him for the visit. However, he knew his friend was completely engrossed in the demanding world of film promotion.

This was, after all, Adhrit's first foray into movie production, a significant milestone, and he had been exceptionally busy navigating the intricacies of the industry these past few weeks. The weight of responsibility rested heavily on his shoulders.

"Paaaa. paaa." The almost unintelligible sound, a sweet garble of affection, immediately captured Abhay's attention.

An instant, involuntary smile spread across his face as he looked at his son's bright, beaming face, lit up with innocent joy. Abandoning his packing for a moment, he moved closer to the bed where little Advit was happily engaged in playing with his toys, lost in his own world of imagination.

With a gentle scoop, Abhay picked him up in his arms, cradling him close.

"Paa is going to miss you so, so much," he murmured, the tone of his voice undergoing an immediate transformation, softening into a tender, almost melodic cadence.

The everyday roughness seemed to vanish completely, replaced by a wave of pure affection.

"Don't worry too much or cry too much, my little one. Paa will come back soon, very soon." He gently brushed their noses together in a playful gesture, and both father and son erupted in a fit of wholehearted laughter, a shared moment of pure, unadulterated joy.

Advit's small, chubby hands reached up and cupped Abhay's face, pulling him closer in a gesture of innocent affection. His eye color, a striking shade of hazel, invariably reminded him of his beloved wife, the woman for whom he fell head over heels the very first moment their eyes met.

The gentle, almost feather-light touch of Advit's hands on his eyes brought him back to the present moment, grounding him in the reality of the situation, the bittersweet goodbye that was about to unfold.

"Abhay," Roop called out from the doorway, her voice laced with a gentle urgency, as she entered the room only to find father and son completely engrossed in their own little world of talking and laughter.

"Breakfast is ready. Come quickly and give Advit to me. I will go and feed him his morning meal." Saying this with a warm smile, she reached out and took Advit into her arms, expertly managing his wiggling form.

She then asked Abhay to join them soon in the dining room, signaling the end of their precious moment.

After they left the room, leaving behind a quiet stillness, Abhay refocused his attention on the task at hand. He resumed his packing, carefully ensuring that everything was in its proper place before finally focusing on zipping up the suitcase, securing his belongings for the journey ahead.

He then decided to take the suitcase down with him, saving himself a trip later. With a slight grunt of effort, he began dragging the suitcase behind him as he alighted the stairs, carefully navigating each step until he reached the area near the dining room.

He could hear the gentle murmur of conversation as the family was settling into their respective chairs around the table, preparing to begin their morning meal.

"Yeh Rakshit Bhaiya kahan hai aaj?" Aradhya questioned with a touch of curiosity, her voice echoing slightly in the room as she settled into the chair beside Advit's long highchair.

She then flashed Advit a playful smile, and he cheekily teased her by sticking his tongue out at her, a familiar game they often played.

(Where is Rakshit Bhaiya today?)

"He left last night around 3 in the morning, saying that there was an emergency at the hospital," Kavya replied, her tone matter-of-fact as she recounted the previous night's conversation with Rakshit before he hastily departed.

She remembered him rushing out, looking concerned and professional.

"What? He specifically told me that he would drop me off at the airport today, and now I find out he left in the middle of the night!" Abhay groaned in exasperation, running a hand over his face in a gesture of frustration.

"Don't worry, Abhay bhai (brother), I will drop you off at the airport," Adranksh replied casually, continuing to chew his food with gusto while subtly passing all the chili peppers onto Aradhya's plate, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"What the hell, Bhai? Apni michi apne plate mein rakho. Mere pass nhi," she retorted, her voice rising slightly in annoyance as she pushed the chili peppers back onto his plate with a swift, decisive movement.

(What the hell, Bhai? Keep your chili on your own plate, not near me.)

The elders at the table exchanged knowing glances and facepalmed, their faces etched with a mixture of amusement and exasperation as they witnessed the familiar sibling squabble unfolding before them once again.

Meanwhile, completely oblivious to the ongoing drama, Advit continued to laugh gleefully beside Roop, entertained by the lively exchange.

Aradhya burst into the room, a wide grin plastered across her face. "Aree aap logo ko pata hai mujhe ek movie ka contract mil gaya! Kal audition hai," she revealed, her voice bubbling with excitement.

(Hey, you guys know I got a movie contract? The audition is tomorrow.)

The sheer, unadulterated happiness was vividly clear on her face, radiating outwards like sunshine. Her eyes shone brightly, almost sparkling, as she shared the wonderful news with everyone present, eager to see their reactions and share in her joy.

It was a moment she had dreamed of for a long time, and now it was finally happening.

Adranksh, never one to let an opportunity for teasing pass him by, immediately jumped in. "Kaun pagal hai jo tere sath kam karna chahata hai? Acting ke naam par kuch bhi karti hai," he said, a smirk playing on his lips.

(Who's crazy enough to want to work with you? You do anything in the name of acting.)

He laughed loudly, encouraging everyone else at the table to join in, thinking it was a harmless joke. His intention might have been playful, but his words, laced with a dismissive tone, landed like a harsh blow.

But his words deeply hurt Aradhya, far more than he could have imagined.

A shadow crossed her face as she absorbed the sting of his casual cruelty. Unable to bear the feeling, she abruptly left the table, shooting Adranksh a sharp, resentful glare before disappearing from sight.

Kavya, witnessing the entire exchange, was immediately furious.

"What the hell did you do?" she exclaimed, her voice sharp with anger. "Now, she got sad because of you. She was working so hard for years to get a movie, and you crushed her hopes with jokes!" she scolded her son, her disappointment palpable.

She couldn't believe his insensitivity, especially knowing how much this meant to Aradhya. She emphasized how disrespectful he was being towards his sister's ambitions and efforts.

When Aradhya didn't return after a few minutes, and her seat remained empty, a sense of unease settled over Adranksh.

He started to realize that she was actually deeply hurt by his joking, more than he had initially thought. He felt a wave of guilt wash over him, knowing that he was the cause of her sadness. The laughter died in his throat, replaced by a knot of regret.

Everyone in the family knew about her unwavering passion for acting. She had dedicated five years of her life to intense acting classes, honing her skills and perfecting her craft.

And before that, she had spent three years in modeling, starting at a very young age, always striving to get noticed, always pushing herself to achieve her dream.

Despite all her hard work and dedication, she hadn't been able to get into any movie.

This contract was everything to her.