Anita's POV

"Mother has asthma!" I whispered, coughing miserably as the thick, white fog surrounded us.

The air was pungent with the acrid smell of smoke, making my eyes burn and my lungs tighten.

Akash grabbed my waist protectively, his grip tightening as I struggled to see through the dense haze.

The hall was chaotic, with people screaming and stumbling around us.

"Mother," I whispered again, forcing my eyes half-open to scan the cloudy space.

The elevator doors were blurry, but I could still see people rushing towards them in panicked rout.

"Akash, let go of me," I muttered, desperate to find my mother amidst the people.

"No way!" he refused, his voice firm. "We need to get out of here too, now. Let's go to the ground floor." He pulled me through the choking fog, guiding me towards the stairs.

"But Mother?" I coughed, my vision blurring, but his grip kept me upright.

We pushed through the crowd, joining the frenetic stream of people rushing down the stairs.

"I'm certain she went down too," he replied, his voice reassuring.

"And your parents?" I asked, my concern growing again.

"They must have gone down as well," he said, his eyes scanning the chaos.

"My sisters?"

"No one will stay up there, Anita. Everyone will leave."

"But is it safe to go down?" I asked, my heart still pounding with fear from the sound of earlier's gunshots.

His expression remained calm. "If it wasn't, we would have been informed by now."

After descending what felt like endless stairs, we finally reached the ground floor.

My eyes scanned the crowded reception area, which was calm compared to the chaos we just left in search for my family's familiar faces.

"My family isn't here, Akash. I told you..." My voice trembled with worry.

Just then, the elevator doors slid open with a soft whoosh, releasing an amiable rush of air that carried the faint scent of his cologne.

My family appeared, accompanied by his parents, their faces etched with relief upon seeing us.

"Mother!" I screamed, joy and relief overflowing as I rushed towards her.

Tears streamed down my face, blurring my vision, and I welcomed her in a tight hug.

Her familiar perfume, a combination of lavender and vanilla, cocooned me, providing me the comfort and safety I've been searching for.

"Anita!" she whispered, showering kisses on my hair.

We clung to each other, tears of happiness mingling while her hands gently cradled my face.

I pulled back, and my gaze moved to my sister's.

My beloved sister, who left me since childhood.

"Sister!" I whispered, my voice barely audible over the lump in my throat. Her eyes, like mine, brimmed with tears, though she still had a little smile.

We approached each other hesitantly, then conked out into a hug, our arms wrapping around each other like it would be the end of time if we pulled away.

I breathed in deeply, taking in the scent of her perfume, a mix of citrus and flowers—a fragrance I thought I'd forgotten. Her hair, still soft and silky, brushed against my cheek.

"I thought, I honestly thought we'd never meet again in this lifetime," I shared, still wrapped in her arms.

"But we did," she said, smiling, her eyes shining with tears. "Look at how you've grown so much, dear."

"I thought you wouldn't recognise me," I mumbled, pulling back slowly and meeting her gaze.

"I'll recognise you anywhere, Anita. It doesn't matter if the last time we met was when you were nine. We're from the same blood. There's no way I wouldn't be able to recognise my sister," she replied.

I leaned forward to touch her feet and seek her blessing, but she stopped me.

"You are blessed," she said, keeping her hands on my shoulders. "May you always be blessed."

I smiled through tears and hugged her again, holding her close.

"Promise me you won't leave again," I whispered, breathing into her hair, the soft strands tickling my nose.

"I must return to my family. My husband and kids,"

I pulled back immediately, my heart sinking. "What do you mean? Let them come here."

She interrupted me with a small smile, "Many happy returns of the day, dear. Don't worry yourself unnecessarily. I'm not leaving tonight. I'll leave in two days."

I wanted to protest, but my sibling's voice caught my attention: "Are we invisible to you, Anita?"

I turned, overwhelmed by happiness, and opened my arms wide.

Each of them came to me, and we shared a group hug, embracing each other tightly.

Tears of happiness streamed down my face, knowing I had my family back.

"But why was tear gas thrown in?" one of my partners asked. "Who was it meant for?"

I pulled back from my siblings, my attention shifting to the conversation.

Akash spoke. "We will find out soon. I'm sure the security team is preparing their report. However, there's negligence on your part too. Why install glass windows that could shatter?"

His mother intervened, her voice calm but wise. "What's happened has happened. I hope you'll learn from your mistake. Replace the windows with ones that can't be shattered. It's by God's mercy that everyone left that place safe and sound."

A group of inspectors entered, their faces sombre with apology.

One of them stepped forward, his eyes locking onto mine for a brief moment before he spoke. "There was an attack intended on Miss Anita and her family," he revealed.

My brows furrowed in surprise. "Us?" I asked, shock snaking into my voice.

He nodded solemnly. "Yes. The perpetrators managed to escape, but we arrested one individual who was shot while fleeing. He confessed to the crime." He paused, his expression turning grim. "He's a representative from your village."

"That man called them," Mukesh exclaimed, one of my partners. "Rajiv Pandey called them. Go and arrest him immediately." His eyes flashed with anger, and his fists clenched.

The inspector nodded. "We've reviewed the CCTV footage, and although Mr. Rajiv Pandey was here earlier, he wasn't present during the incident. We can't arrest him without concrete proof," he explained, his voice measured.

I leaned forward. "Who was in the video, then? Father?" I asked, a dropping feeling occurring in my stomach.

"We can't confirm if it was your father, but...you can come and verify." He gestured toward the security room.

Akash's hand took mine. "Let's go see," he said.

Together, with everyone, we followed the inspector to the security room outside, the cool air conditioning brewing as we stepped in.

The security team was already waiting.

The footage played on the screen, the grainy images revealing what I already expected.

My father was among the individuals visible in the video, his face twisted in a scowl.

I chuckled, and Akash's grip on my hand tightened, offering me support and comfort.

"He wanted to kidnap me and my family, I guess," I said, laughter still mingling with my voice because I didn't know how to deal with the cauldron of emotions churned in my heart: shock, fear, and disbelief.

However, my laughter immediately turned to outrage, fraternised with the open hatred he has shown me. "Have that man arrested, inspector," I demanded, my voice soft with restrained anger.

"This wasn't just an attack on me and my family; it was an attack on everyone present. He knew we weren't alone, and yet he still proceeded. What if it had harmed someone else, especially my mother, who's asthmatic?"

The thought made me silent for a moment before I continued. "He deserves no leniency for putting innocent lives at risk. He's shown no regard for human life, no empathy, no compassion. He, along with everyone that supported him, should be arrested."

"Let's leave then," I added, glancing at my mother, who remained silent, apparently in support of my decision.

We stepped out, and Akash spoke. "It's quite late. Come, let's leave," he urged.

"What about my family?" I asked.

"They've been staying with my parents for a few days now," he simply answered.

I raised an eyebrow, surprised. "No way! Why? How long have they been in Mumbai?"

He sighed, his expression suggesting that now wasn't the time for details. "Does it matter asking all that now? It's quite late. Let's leave," he said gently but firmly.

"They'll go along with my parents," he added.

"No way!" I exclaimed. "You're already doing so much for me, and now your parents too? Why are you adding to my debt? The more you help me, the harder it'll be for me to repay."

His expression turned stiff, though his voice softened. "It hurts me whenever you mention debt. Can't you understand by now that I don't want anything from you?"

I shook my head, regardless, persistent. "Still, they can't stay with your parents."

"Fine," he resigned with a sigh. "Let them come with us, then."

"It's not right. Me being with you already raises questions... and with them, what will people think? What kind of family will they assume we are?" I replied.

"What do you want, Anita? Should I rent a separate home for them, making it easy for people from your village to find and take them back? Put them in harm's way." His eyes stared into mine.

"They will arrest my father..." I began, but he interrupted, his voice firm.

"He hasn't been arrested yet. Remember, they escaped. And it's not just your father—people from your village are here too."

I took a deep breath, gathering courage. "Listen, Akash," I said, my voice scarcely reaching a whisper.

I cleared my throat, bowing my head, unable to meet his gaze. "I'm not ungrateful, and I don't want you to think I am. You're my best friend, so I hope you'll understand me."

I reached out, my hand softly holding his, my eyes still cast downward. "They gave me a house here as a gift. I want to move in with my mother and sisters. I won't let her go back to the village. Even if Father gets arrested, the villagers won't let her live in peace."

"Forget about that house they gave you," he asserted. "Of course, I'm okay with them moving in there. I promise to employ security to keep them safe, but without you."

I gathered courage, meeting his gaze. I whispered with a trembling voice. "Thank you for everything you've done so far. Your kindness, your support...it means the world to me." Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as I thought over what he did to me, a stranger he knows nothing about.

"But we can't continue living together," I continued, my sadness echoing through my words like a mournful sigh. "Everyone will keep questioning us, so I won't let that happen to tarnish your reputation. I won't let my presence harm you or your family."

His expression loosened, and he replied, "Let them talk. I don't care, nor do my parents. We know the truth. That's all that matters."

I smiled and placed my hand on his arm, my touch conveying the depth of my feelings. "But I care, Akash. I really do. I care about you and about your family. I respect everything you've done for me. I won't let my presence tarnish your image." I spoke, but my heart too felt like it was shattering from the pain that we will no longer live together.

"This discussion is over. You're not leaving. I'm never going to permit you to leave," he exclaimed, and he rushed to his car, as if trying to escape the conversation.

Immediately, he started the engine.

I looked back at my parents, who were waiting for me at a corner, along with his parents.

I hurried after him, knocking on his car window.

He rolled down the glass, and before I could speak, he said, "Come in, let's go home already." His eyes gored through mine, filled with an unreadable emotion.

I sighed, mumbling, "I am sorry."

His expression turned serious immediately. "So you won't come?" he asked, his voice very low.

"You are welcome at any time, any day. That house is the same as yours." I started, but he cut me off.

"Keep your guilt to yourself," he mumbled as he rolled up the glass.

After a screech from his tires, he sped away, leaving me standing there, the wind whipping my hair into a delirium.

I closed my eyes, tears streaming down my face.

"What have I done? I hope he's not angry at me," I muttered under my breath, feeling a deep regret drown over me.

"What happened, Anita?" I felt his mother's delicate hand on my shoulder, and I opened my eyes, meeting her compassionate gaze.

I am still crying.

"I told him I want to move out," I whispered, my voice trembling. "Because people will never accept us living together as friends. They'll keep questioning his character and mine. I don't want that." I sniffled, trying to compose myself.

"When I told him he's welcome to visit me anytime, at the house I received as a gift, along with my family...he said I should keep my guilt to myself, and then he left." I remembered the hurt in his eyes and the anger in his voice. "He got angry, didn't he?" I cried louder, feeling very regretful.

"Well..." she spoke.

"But he should see things from my perspective," I continued. "No woman from a respectable family will live with a man without a proper relationship. We share none. No blood ties, no marriage...nothing."

"I'm not saying you were wrong, Anita," his mother replied, her voice gentle and wise. "I understand your perspective, but the timing of your words was not appropriate. It was neither the time nor the place." She wiped the tears from my cheek, her touch comforting.

"He reunited you with your family," she continued. "You didn't even thank him for that. Moreover, he's not wrong for being angry. At the first opportunity you got, you forgot everything he did for you and wished to leave. This isn't how relationships work. It makes you look like someone who takes without giving, who uses people for their own gain. It makes you look like an opportunist." Her words stung me deep, but I knew she spoke the truth.

"Never," I burst into more tears, my voice shaking. "I swear I'm not an opportunist. I would never use someone like that." Tears streamed down my face as I realised this is how he sees me now.

"Of course," she responded, wiping my tears again.

Her expression softened, and she spoke, "He got angry, which is his right to. Even I would have reacted similarly if you'd told me such a thing, especially on the day you received the house."

I rummaged through my purse for my phone, "Let me call him and explain..." I started while she intervened.

"Do so. But be aware, Akash has a tendency to cut people off when they make even the slightest mistake. He's always been sensitive about being hurt." Her eyes lingered on mine, filled with deep empathy. "But I'm sure you're different. You'll find a way to patch things up. I hope."

She offered me a warm smile, her hand tapping my shoulder reassuringly. "The doors to my home are always open for you; don't forget. You're welcome anytime." she added.

I folded my hands in gratitude, still crying as I processed her words.

His habit of cutting people off made me nervous, but her faith in me gave me courage.

I took a deep breath, nodding my head.

"I'll leave a car to drop you off at your place. Take care," she added before turning to leave.

As soon as she was gone, I turned on my phone, and his smiling face stared back at me from my wallpaper.

My heart ached, more regret consuming me.

I unlocked the phone and dialled his number, my fingers trembling.

It rang, but he didn't answer.

I tried again, my tension growing with each passing moment, but still, he didn't pick up.

I took a deep breath and typed out a message, pouring my emotions into the words.

"Akash, I'm sorry. It was never my intention to hurt or anger you. We're still best friends; nothing's changed. We'll still meet, just like before. You can still see me whenever you want. Please answer my call. I need to explain myself and make you understand." I sent the message, hoping he'd respond.

Just then, my mother and sisters arrived. "What's happening, dear?" Mother asked while wrapping her arms around me.

I dabbed at my tears and shook my head, forcing a weak smile. "Nothing; let's go. I've found us a new home, and Akash's mother has arranged for a car to take us there. We shouldn't keep her driver waiting."

I turned and led them to the waiting car.

After we settled in for the ride, I checked my phone, hoping he had responded. But the screen remained blank.

Throughout the ride, my eyes kept drifting back to my phone, checking for his response—a message or a call—but nothing came.

We pulled up to the house, and my eyes widened in wonderment.

It exceeded my wildest expectations. It was a breathtaking, grand villa with elegant architecture and beautiful gardens.

••••

A whole week has passed. An agonising week.

Why?

I've had no contact with Akash.

Father is still missing, and sister has returned home.

This silence from him is unbearable. My conscience tortures me. I am no longer enthusiastic about anything.

I've asked his friends if they're aware I've moved out of his house, but they seem genuinely unaware. None of them knows what's happening.

He's also stopped visiting the restaurant.

I wonder how long his anger will last. Every day, I call him, and the phone rings, but he never answers.

He sent those two bodyguards to me with my medicine and clothes, and they still follow me to the restaurant.

However, when I asked them to convey my apology to him, they said they're no longer permitted in his house.

The message he wants me to understand is clear, but I refuse to accept it. He's made it evident he wants nothing to do with me, yet I will not accept it. Everything I have today is because of him.

It is night, and I'm alone in my room, surrounded by the echoes of my thoughts.

Mother entered and joined me on the bed.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

I smiled, "I am."

"You are lying, right?" She prods, her tone soft but insistent. "Tell me what has happened. Is your father's disappearance worrying you?"

I sigh, shaking my head, and tears began to well up in my eyes. "It's Akash, Mother," I confessed, unable to hide my feelings any longer.

"He no longer wants our friendship," I continued. "He doesn't care about me anymore."

I burst into tears, throwing my head on her shoulder, seeking solace in her embrace.

"Did he tell you that?" She asked, her fingers stroking my hair.

I mumbled, my voice barely audible, "He doesn't even answer my calls... though I'm glad he hasn't. It would hurt more."

She hummed softly, then replied. "Should I invite him for coffee? We exchanged contacts when he took us to his home, in case we needed anything." She paused. "Should I?"

I pulled away, my eyes meeting hers, and nodded fervently. "I hope he'll accept the invitation."

Without hesitation, she nudged her phone forward and dialled his number, putting it on speaker mode.

The ringing stretched on forever, each passing moment making my blood boil with nervous suspense.

I craved the sound of his voice and yearned to hear it once more.

But the call ended unanswered.

I burst into tears again, my voice breaking while I whispered, "Did I not tell you? He has cut me off."

Every aspect of my life now lacked joy and meaning.

"I will try again," she said, and she dialled his number once more. But again, he didn't answer.

I clutched my heart, feeling as though it had been shredded raw with a knife.

The pain was unbearable.

"I can't continue living without him, Mother," I mumbled, my voice trembling. "I swear I can't."

Her phone rang, and my eyes immediately dropped to the caller ID.

My heart skipped a beat as I saw his name.

"Don't speak," she warned, before answering and putting the call on speaker mode once more.

"Good evening, Son," she spoke.

"Good evening, Mother. How have you been? I hope you're doing well," he replied, his voice very smooth and familiar.

I closed my eyes, enjoying the sound I'd missed so dearly.

"I'm good," she responded.

"Sorry, you called while I was driving home," he added.

"It's no problem," she replied. "Son, if you're not too busy, can you come over for coffee tonight?" she asked, her tone hopeful.

"I'm sorry, I won't make it," he replied without even giving it a second of thought, his words piercing my heart like a dagger.

I opened my eyes, my smile fading away.

"No problem. What about tomorrow? It's Saturday, so you can come at any time. You're welcome for breakfast, lunch, or dinner."

"Again, I'm sorry, I won't be able to."

I snatched the phone from her hand and spoke. "Why?" I demanded, "You used to make time for me before. Why can't you now? Moreover, you're always free on Saturd....."

But my words were cut off by the silence.

He disconnected the call.

I stared at the phone, my eyes charring with unshed tears because the sudden loss of his voice felt like a slap in my face.

I turned to Mother and mumbled. "I've had enough," I affirmed as I wiped away the tears streaming down my face. "If he wants to end our friendship, I need him to say it to my face. I won't let him continue torturing my conscience with his silence."

I stood up and took a deep breath. "I am going to him."

I am ready to confront him and make him acknowledge the pain he was causing me.

However, she grabbed my arm, halting me.

I turned back to face her. "What?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

She stared at me for a moment before she spoke. "Do you love Akash, Anita?"

My face crumpled, and I shrugged, helpless against the tide of emotions I'd been desperately trying to escape.

More tears spilt down my cheeks, swelling my skin as I whispered,

"It's not allowed to fall in love with him, right? So it's forbidden for me to have that kind of feeling." I mumbled, then turned, my eyes still blinded by tears, and stumbled out of the room, leaving her concerned gaze behind.

••••

I stood before his security guard that blocked my path.

"What do you mean?" I asked, trying to keep my voice stable.

"He didn't inform me of your visit, so you can't go in," he replied, his expression firm but polite.

I forced a bitterchuckle, nodding my head in resignation. "Then please, call him. Please. Tell him I'm here, waiting for him."

His expression softened slightly. "I can't. You'll need to call him yourself. If he agrees to let you in, I'll allow it. Otherwise, I'm afraid you'll have to leave."

"I've tried his number numerous times on my way here. He doesn't want to speak to me."

"I'm sorry. I really am. But then please, you need to leave." He stepped back, and the gate creaked shut on my face.

I nodded, bringing out my phone to type out a message.

If he doesn't reply this time, it's his problem, but I'm going to explain myself whether he likes it or not.

"I'm outside your gate, Akash. Your guard won't let me in because you haven't informed him of my visit. You've seen my missed calls all week. When I came to Mumbai, I never expected to meet someone like you, but I did. We bonded, and now you've become an important person in my life. But since you want to cut me off completely over a mistake that isn't even a mistake, fine. I stand by my words. No decent woman will live with a man without a proper relationship, or people will continue to point fingers. I agreed to live with you in the past because I had no other option. I had no roof over my head. But now I have a house. You think I'm an opportunist, but I want to clarify: I wanted to leave the restaurant, but I returned for your happiness. Your happiness is my happiness, Akash. If you're angry with me, my life has no meaning. I don't want freedom anymore. I'll resign from work and give up everything—the house, everything. As for my mother, I will find a place for her to work here in Mumbai, so she doesn't have to return to the village. She will live with me for a while with Rajiv. Yes, my life has already lost its colours, so I'll return to Rajiv. I don't mind what life throws my way then. However, please let me see you one last time. I'll wait thirty minutes outside your gate. If you don't show up, I know we'll never meet again in this lifetime." I sent the message without checking it.

I paced back and forth outside the gate.

Two minutes later, it swung open, and the guard gestured for me to enter. "Sir has allowed you in," he said, his expression neutral.

I smiled, relief washing over me, and I rushed inside and into the building.

I hurried to the living room, but it was empty.

"Akash!" I called out, my voice echoing through the space.

"In the kitchen," his voice replied, low and measured.

I followed the sound to the kitchen, where he stood, his back to me, preparing coffee for himself.

My eyes darted around the room, settling on the dusty counter.

I spoke randomly, trying to break the tension. "Those people who clean this house never come in here, and yet, you never complain." I said, my voice a little too bright.

He turned, his eyes narrowing as he eyed me. His face, once warm and friendly, now appeared cold and distant. "So, you'll give up everything, including your freedom, to return to that man because I have ignored you?" he asked.

"We invited you for coffee too..." I began, but he cut me off, his voice icy.

"If you're not here to reply to my question, you can leave. You've already seen me, so if it's him you wish to return to, you're more than welcome to go. Go, ruin your life. If it's misery you're craving, fine."

I nodded, feeling a piercing feeling in my chest.

It seemed he no longer cared about me.

"Okay," I whispered, trying to sound strong despite the tears welling up in my eyes. "I will leave... to him." My voice cracked on the last word.

He started walking towards me, and I took steps back to create some distance between us; however, my back hit the wall.

He continued his approach, his gaze intense and unnerving.

He planted his hands on either side of my head, his fingers curling into fists, caging me in.

"What exactly brought you here, Anita?" His eyes bored into mine, burning with an unspoken demand for answers.

I mumbled, my voice barely audible, "Why have you been ignoring my calls?"

He leaned in, his face inches from mine, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine. "I was busy," he said simply.

I turned my face away, my knees weakening, but his hand landed on my cheek, sending a jolt of electricity through me. His gentle touch made me shudder.

He guided my face back to his, and I met his intense gaze again, my heart racing.

I gulped slowly to water my dried throat.

"How can friends be busy with each other?" I replied.

His brief smile hinted at a deeper emotion.

"I was angry with you," he admitted, his voice low and husky. "Are you happy now? I was angry because you don't—you still don't understand me." His eyes flashed with frustration.

"You label everything I do as a debt," he continued, interrupting when I wanted to tell him he didn't understand me either. "You care about others' views on our relationship. Why? Can't you see I don't care about others when I'm with you?"

"You are mist..." I started, but he cut me off.

"I'm getting involved with your village people, Anita, just to keep you safe. Do you think I'm not aware of the consequences? They'll kill me at any opportunity they find for taking you into my house."

"I'll never let them," I clarified immediately.

His expression remained intense. "I'm not scared of them; I know they can't harm me. But just as I am willing to disregard their dangers, I want you to think similarly. Don't let Orthodox customs ruin your life. You shouldn't be bound by societal expectations."

His voice then changed into one of pain: "You threatened to return to that despicable man just because I hadn't spoken to you. Do you think that would've resolved anything between us?"

"I..." I paused, unsure of how to express the emotions swirling inside me.

An overwhelming urge to connect with him arose in me, and I followed my heart, gently cupping his face in my hands.

"My life lost its colours with your silence," I confessed in a whisper. "Your absence tormented me day and night. You were my strength, my guiding angel. Without you, Father would have already forced me back to him, and I fear he still will if he discovers you've left me."

His eyes softened. "I haven't left you, Anita," he whispered, his voice infused with assurance. "I never will." He cupped my face in his hands, mirroring my gesture.

"Check my phone," he added, with a small smile playing on his lips. "You're still on my wallpaper. Go into my room, and you'll find a picture of us—the one we snapped at the studio."

As he spoke, his thumbs caressed my cheeks, sending shivers down my spine, but the nervousness I felt slowly dissipated.

I smiled, feeling relief and joy. "Then, if you haven't left me, why didn't you pick up my calls or respond to my messages?" I asked.

His expression turned mischievous. "Would you have realised you can't live without me if I had?" he said simply, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

My cheeks flushed, and I looked away, trying to compose myself because his words just made me feel warm internally.

"I want you to stay here, Anita," he continued, his voice filled with sincerity. "Let's give our relationship a name, like you wanted. Be Mrs. Akash Kapoor!"

I couldn't contain my laughter, my hands sliding away from his face as I giggled uncontrollably.

He stared at me, his expression serious, and for a moment, I worried I'd offended him.

"Do you know that if you lie, you won't find a life partner to settle with?" I said finally, trying to compose myself.

He nodded, and a small smile played on his lips. "I'll make you coffee, and when you're done, I'll drop you off," he replied, turning back to the coffee maker.