Two weeks later,

Khushi relocated to Delhi a few days ago, a decision prompted by her exhausting divorce proceedings with Rohan and the challenging custody battle for their daughter, Riya. The court granted them co-parenting rights, and Khushi believed that being in the same city as Rohan would benefit Riya. She sold her Mumbai flat, severing ties with painful memories, and purchased a new flat in Delhi.

The bustling city of Delhi stirred up memories of Khushi's parents, sister, and Buaji. She couldn't shake off the feeling of guilt that she had left them behind on their own for her strong pursuit of independence and self-respect. Guilt and regret gnawed at her heart when she realized the impact of her sudden departure on her family, especially considering her father's paralysis. Not that she never realized it before. But standing in the same city as theirs, the impact on her was extreme.

The thought of her family struggling without her care weighed heavily on her. She knew they deserved her apologies, that they didn't deserve her abandonment. With each passing day, the need to visit them grew stronger, driven by her longing to make amends and seek forgiveness.

Khushi couldn't ignore the pull any longer. She knew she had to go and meet them, to face them with sincerity and humility. Her heart ached with the burden of guilt, but she was determined to set things right, to mend the broken bonds and heal the wounds she had caused.

She had to.

With Riya in her arms, she started for Gupta House.

Gupta House,

Laxmi Nagar,

Buaji and Garima were in the kitchen cooking when they heard the doorbell ring.

"Hai Re Nanda Kishore, kon hai iss wakt?" Madhumathi's voice trembled as she opened the door. But the sight that greeted her left her speechless.

(Who's here at this time?)

"Sanka Devi?" she whispered, her eyes wide with disbelief.

"Who is it, Jiji?" Garima, following closely behind, gasped. "Khushi?" Her voice was barely audible, as if afraid the figure before her would vanish.

"Buaji. Amma," Khushi whispered, tears streaming down her face. The years of separation weighed heavily on her heart.

Both the women had faces etched with shock and had rushed to the door. women.

Garima's shock gave way to tears. She reached out, her trembling hands cupping Khushi's face. "Where had you gone, Bitiya? Do you know how worried we were for you after you disappeared?" Her voice cracked, and Khushi felt the guilt like a knife twisting in her chest.

Buaji, still rooted to the ground, stared at Khushi. "Sanka Devi, where have you gone? Do you know how much we have searched for you?" Her eyes held a mix of relief and hurt.

"I am sorry, Buaji, Amma," Khushi's voice wavered. "I left without a word. But I realize now I shouldn't have gone like that, without informing you."

The years melted away, and Khushi found herself in her home amidst the tears of two women.

Garima took her inside the home and Riya who was hiding behind her Mumma followed too. No one noticed the little toddler hiding behind Khushi and she was also silent, not making any noise.

"I am so sorry, Amma, Buaji, for disappearing but..I was just hurt and-" her trembling voice was cut off by Madhumathi.

"You could have come to us, Sanka Devi. Isn't this your home too?" she reprimanded.

"I just wanted to get out of this, Buaji. But I know now I shouldn't have gone like that, without informing you. I know," Khushi replied, her voice tinged with guilt. She had left without a word, seeking solace in a new city, but she had left behind a trail of worry and unanswered questions.

"Jo hua, so hua, ab tum vaapas aagye ho, yahi kaafi hai," Garima mended the hazy situation by caressing her face.

(Whatever has happened, you returned and that's enough.)

"Mumma," and that's when they noticed the little toddler in a red gown with two tiny ponytails.

Khushi's attention went towards her daughter and she smiled at her daughter before picking up her in her arms and introducing her to Garima and Buaji.

Garima led Khushi inside, and Riya, the little toddler hiding behind her, followed. The family reunion was bittersweet, filled with tears and laughter. No one noticed the silent child hiding behind Mumma until Khushi picked her up, and introducing her to Garima and Buaji.

"This is Riya. My daughter," Khushi said, her voice filled with both pride and vulnerability. Shock registered on their faces, but they recovered quickly. After all, Riya was their granddaughter, their Khushi's daughter.

"Babuji, how is he?" Khushi's heart ached at the thought of her father. "He can talk now and even walk a little, Sankadevi," Buaji replied, relief evident in her voice. "He's yet to completely recover from his paralysis."

Shashi emerged from his room, his eyes wide as he took in the scene before him, his dear daughter was standing in the hallway.

"Babu-ji?" Khushi's voice was barely a whisper as she stepped closer to her father. Her father is the closest one to her. She's literally his laadli.

"Chutki?" Babuji's eyes filled with tears looking at his daughter after so long. "Kaha chali gayi thi?" His voice held a mix of concern and hurt. Hadn't she thought of her father during those five years?

"I am sorry, Babu-ji," Khushi's tears flowed freely as she embraced him tightly.

In that moment, surrounded by her family, she felt a sense of belonging she had longed for. She shared the details of her departure, her wedding, Riya, and the subsequent divorce. They didn't ask further questions; her return was enough.

When they came to know Khushi had disappeared, they were shocked, worried, and hurt. To the extent that they even blamed Raizadas for it. True that Raizadas might have been negligent, but they weren't less too.

Arnav was kidnapped by Shyam and Khushi saved him, fighting Shyam. NK didn't stay behind in letting everyone know whatever risks Khushi took to save her husband. Only if they had revealed the truth before making bonds with Raizads. Guilt and Regret soon followed them when Shashi revealed the truth adding to Shyam's list of crimes. They sought forgiveness from Anjali and Raizadas for hiding the truth. They regretted their actions. Each one of them.

If only they revealed the truth, Shyam would have been behind bars long ago. Arnav wouldn't have gotten kidnapped. Neither would Khushi get blamed by Shyam nor some of the Raizadas would have held her blameworthy. Shashi was better than them. When he had gotten his voice back, the first thing he did was reveal Shyam and his ugly truths.

Coming out of the past, Garima and Madhumathi concentrated on the toddler.

As they played with Riya, Khushi watched her family bond with her daughter. Riya giggled, accepting their embrace and kisses. But Khushi wondered how they would react when she revealed her decision to stay in the flat she had bought, rather than return to the Gupta House. The weight of that secret still rested on her shoulders, even amidst the joy of their reunion.

She dreaded the moment and the moment arrived soon. As Khushi announced her departure for GH, her family protested vehemently. They complained and attempted emotional blackmail, and when that failed, tears flowed freely as they clung to her, unwilling to let her go.

But Khushi stood firm. Remaining in the Gupta House would subject her to taunts and gossip about her disappearance, divorce, and life as a single mother. She couldn't bear to expose Riya to such an environment. Unlike before, she hadn't hidden her intentions this time. She explained the consequences of her decision, and though they were reluctant, they ultimately agreed — for Riya's sake.

Khushi's Flat,

Delhi

Khushi was standing on her room's balcony, looking out into the garden she had below. This was such a society where people didn't poke into her life which promises Riya to be away from toxic words. That's what she wanted. That's what she'd want at any time. She took a deep breath, her long, flowing hair dancing in the wind, and her eyes fixed on the horizon. The fresh tang of the air filled her lungs as she tried to find solace in the endless expanse of green before her. She escaped into her memories, the pain, and the guilt that had been haunting her for the past five years.

Her life was a tapestry woven with threads of pain and self-will. Her quest for independence and self-respect led her to the vibrant city of Mumbai, where destiny had other plans.

In the labyrinthine corridors of her new workplace, Khushi encountered Rohan. He was a fellow employee of hers, unassuming yet intriguing. From day one, Rohan's eyes held a silent confession. She knew he was interested in her from day one. But Khushi was too consumed by her pain to notice. The wounds from her past with Arnav and her new resilience ran deep, and she shielded herself from any possibility of love.

However, they became friends because of their common interest in cartoons. They used to work in the same company before he resigned and took over his father's business.

Yet he never stopped approaching her.

She was still the same, not accepting him, wanting time to move on.

Until the night in the hotel in Nainital — where Khushi crossed paths with Arnav once more. His presence stirred memories and emotions she had tried burying. He stirred love, pain, and fury in her. He had always managed to. She had tried burning that love and pain. But when she encountered him, she realized she was failing. Her determination to stay away from pain and build a new life felt like crumbling into pieces with his presence. She realized that to move forward, she needed to sever the ties that bound her heart to Arnav.

She knew the night she fell asleep beside him, she was too desperate to escape from reality, she knew he'd somehow find her, and her hard work of piecing her together would go in vain.

So when the very next morning she left his room and went back to Mumbai, she resigned from her current company and applied elsewhere, accepting Rohan's proposal. He liked her and wanted to marry her. He isn't in love with her and neither is she.

And so, in a desperate bid to escape, she agreed to marry Rohan. He was not the man she loved, not the man who owned her heart. But he was a means to an end, a way out of the suffocating existence she had been leading. Marrying Rohan meant freedom from Arnav and his approach, the man who still owned a piece of her soul, despite everything that had transpired. It was a selfish decision, born out of desperation and the need to hold her new life together.

"I'd marry you, Rohan, only if you give me proper time to move on from my ex-husband," Khushi had said, her voice tinged with both anticipation and caution. If she wanted to be out of Arnav's reach, this was the only way.

"Sure, Khushi. I will wait," Rohan replied, his gaze unwavering. "But before marrying you, I need to confess something."

Khushi's face screamed curiosity. What could he possibly reveal? Well, she had already revealed about her ex-husband, not his identity though. He never asked.

"Looking at Khushi's curious gaze, "I'm divorced and impotent," he confessed, the words heavy.

Khushi's face fluttered in shock as Rohan's words hung in the air. She never knew it even after working with him for so long. The room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for her response. She had never expected such a revelation from him. Impotent? Divorced? The words echoed, and she tried to process them.

"I can never give birth to a child. That's why my wife left me and now I need to adopt a baby. After my divorce from my wife, my reputation had gone low in the society," he continued, his eyes bore into hers, vulnerability etched across his face. He wasn't the typical suitor, and this wasn't the typical love story, not even a love story if they had to be honest.

Khushi's mind raced. Impotent. The word hung there, stark and unyielding. But Rohan's honesty touched her. He wasn't hiding behind a facade; he was laying bare his truths.

"Are you saying you need to adopt a baby for society, to keep your image?" Khushi asked, her voice steady.

"Of course not," Rohan replied, shaking his head. "Those are secondary reasons. I love babies. That's why I want to adopt. It's like hitting two birds with one stone. And yes, the Indian laws wouldn't allow a single or divorced man to adopt a baby. I tried before, but I failed."

Khushi is visibly relaxed. Rohan's sincerity was disarming.

"I really wanted to marry you," Rohan continued. "But the idea of adopting a baby with you came into my mind only when you accepted my proposal."

And so they married a month later in a simple Christian wedding, for Rohan was a Christian. They soon flew to Chennai, where they, a few months later, adopted a newborn baby girl from a dying mother in one of the trust hospitals.

When they were back in Mumbai, no one got to know Riya was their adopted baby. They never told anyone except their family members.

Their union was unconventional. Khushi laid down her terms: their marriage would remain platonic until she could truly let go of Arnav in her heart. Rohan agreed, he too had his reasons. His impotence weighed heavily on him, especially after his wife divorced him for the same reason. He needed a wife who would adopt a child with him, concealing the truth that the child was not their own from others except for his family.

For three years, Khushi and Rohan navigated this delicate dance. Their home echoed silent compromises, friendship, and understanding. Amidst all these, Rohan would try pursuing more, breaking the words they made to each other before marrying each other but she never complied.

Little cracks had started from then but she chose to ignore than to ponder and concentrate on her job and Riya — just like Rohan did. He concentrated on Riya and his job too. He loved both of them very much. But life has a way of unraveling even the most carefully woven fabric. With Sakshi's entry, Rohan's gaze wavered. His betrayal shattered the fragile equilibrium. He had cheated, and Khushi, even if she was not in love with him, felt betrayed.

For, he went behind a woman who was already committed, who's his very own brother's wife. To her, he looked absolutely like Shyam.

With his betrayal, came her realization too. She wasn't perfect, she had made mistakes, with Arnav, Anjali, Raizadas, and now Rohan too.

It isn't fair on him to keep him waiting for her to move on from Arnav. But it wasn't fair on her too that he tried breaking the space she needed to move on, like he promised he'd give. It wasn't fair on her too.

The best decision was to divorce each other especially when he wanted the same. With steely resolve, she filed for divorce. Her two-year-old daughter, Riya, became her anchor. With co-parenting rights, Rohan would visit Riya and they would keep their grudges to themselves. Riya will not need it.

As the city's chaotic streets embraced her once again, Khushi vowed to weave a new tapestry — one of strength, resilience, and a mother's unwavering love for her daughter. The chapters of her life unfolded, each revealing a different shade of courage.

One of the shades of courage is to visit Raizada Mansion and apologize. She had started mending her mistakes. One of them included this. The last time, with the very same courage, she tried telling the truth about Shyam but couldn't and decided not to. Not this time, she'd not back away this time from apologizing.

Shantivan,

Same day,

"Chotte, is that Khushi-ji?" Anjali entered his room, holding a cup of black coffee. Her eyes fell on his laptop screen, where he was looking at Khushi with a baby girl. He had always watched Khushi on his screen. It isn't new. But this one looks like a recent one and that too with a baby. Curiosity piqued, she asked about the same.

"Yes, Di. She was in Mumbai before and now in Delhi," he replied simply.

Anjali's smile faded as she noticed the frown etched on his face. "Why aren't you happy, Chotte? And who's the baby girl?"

Her heart skipped a beat on looking at the baby girl again, memories of her own lost child resurfacing. Her Rajkumari would have been a little older than the toddler she saw on the screen, had she survived. Memories of miscarriage just before Shyam's truth was revealed came rushing back. Pushing aside those painful thoughts, she focused on her brother.

"Thank you for the coffee, Di," he said, changing the subject. "Aren't you getting late for your NGO?"

Anjali understood. Sometimes, silence spoke louder than questions. She patted his head gently and left the room. He would share when he was ready; she wouldn't push him.

Arnav leaned back on the recliner putting his coffee aside, his jaw tickling from the sides, the new problem screaming at his face. He had to solve it. Even if it's going to hurt him, he needs to.

Heaven Arcade,

Park,

"Khushi?" Arnav called out for her.

Khushi who was watching her daughter play in their apartment's Park turned towards him in shock, "You?"

The park held its breath as Khushi and Arnav faced each other. Their shared history weighed heavily between them—the mistakes, the grudges, and the unspoken words.

"How do you know I am here?" She was straight to the point, her voice a little gentler than before. Agreed she had made mistakes, regarding him and Anjali and their family. That doesn't mean she forgot his words. She still had a grudge against him for hurting her. It still needs some time to heal and only then she could be normal with him. But she also could sense a little of a grudge dissolving compared to the last time she met him in the park in Mumbai. She was then downright rude but after getting home, regretted behaving the way she did. If not gentle, she at least shouldn't have been rude, especially after realizing her share of mistakes. She then decided it was only right she apologized to him and not just Anjali and owed every mistake of hers. The regret-filled heart of hers would be lessened. Silently promising not to let her grudge overpower anything.

Arnav broke the silence, his voice low and hesitant. "I know you are divorced," he confessed.

"How do you know it? Did you background check me?" Khushi's voice was sharp and defensive.

"No, Khushi. Not by my own will, at least," Arnav replied, his gaze unwavering.

"What does that mean?" she was confused.

"Khushi, can we sit somewhere and talk?" Arnav's plea hung in the air.

"I got to know you're divorced through Mr. Roy." His unwavering gaze met hers, and he explained that it wasn't by his own will that he had to background check her and he had to do it to save her from legal consequences.

"Khushi, I don't know if you remember or not, but you signed legal papers after marriage—" he was cut off by Khushi.

Khushi remembered the legal papers she had signed after their marriage. "Our contract marriage papers," she interrupted.

But Arnav corrected her, "It wasn't. It was our wedding registration papers, Khushi."

"Meaning?" Khushi's words were straight.

"There was never a contract marriage," Arnav confessed.

"But six months.." Khushi trailed off in wonder.

"Yes, the six months, verbally yes. I'd have to apply for a divorce after six months under some hardships or a year later in general, but those papers nowhere had any six-month contract." Arnav confessed. His intention was never to divorce her in real. Especially not after he knew she was innocent.

He verbally many times used the word contract for his own purpose but never included it on the papers. He knew it was wrong of him. He regretted every wrong he had done and still does. He wouldn't forgive himself even if Khushi did someday. He knew.

"But we didn't—" Those papers were their wedding registration documents, not a contract. The six-month clause was verbal, not written. Khushi's realization dawned: there had never been a contract marriage and she never divorced him.

"Yes, and you disappeared, married Rohan, and divorced him," Arnav continued. "Mr. Roy got to know that because there were two marriage registrations with the same name." One was under the 'The Christian Marriage Act' and the other under 'The Hindu Marriage Act'. He had to order Roy to keep it under wraps. Roy has suggested he should get their divorce which should be dated back to four years ago, and since he couldn't see his Khushi getting accused of something she wasn't even aware of, he's here with the solution to her problem she isn't even aware of.

"It would be considered as Bigamy," Khushi whispered, realization dawning.

"Yes, Khushi. And if anyone from the law verifies and matches it...but thankfully the one who worked on your divorce was Roy's friend and he told me that you..." Arnav's voice trailed off.

Khushi gulped looking at him with her gaze filled with moistness.

"That's why I am here today," Arnav muttered.

"How would I get out of this now?" Khushi's desperation grew as she wondered how to escape this legal entanglement.

"Divorce me," Arnav said firmly locking the pain in his heart. "You'll have to sign divorce papers. These are dated back to four years ago, and it wouldn't be a problem for you anymore."

Khushi silently read the divorce papers and signed them. Arnav, even though he knew this was the only way to save Khushi, couldn't stop himself from feeling bad. His heart ached. These legal documents severed their ties. All these years, he had said she was his wife. These legal papers were the proof. But now, not anymore. Yet this couldn't stop his heart from treating her as his wife, in his heart.

And so, in that park, they faced their past, their mistakes, and the consequences of their actions.

Riya unknown to all these, played with her toys, smiled, and giggled with other toddlers.

A few days later,

Arnav frequented visiting the Heave Arcade's Park. His wheels would automatically bring him here. He'd watch Riya play. Not to forget Khushi let him watch, it was a Park for the public and not her flat to reprimand him.

One fine day, just like before, Riya had hit the ball on Arnav's legs and came paddling on her little legs asking oh-so cutely for the smiley ball with her huge innocent hazels.

Melting his heart into a puddle.

And that's how he became friends with her.

She would call him Annaav.

Just like she did today.

"Annaav," Riya grinned jumping near him and Khushi watched them, even if she wanted to take Riya away from Arnav, Riya's giggles in Arnav's presence stopped her. She isn't that mother who doesn't like her child interacting with someone who makes her smile just because she isn't in a good relationship with them. The first time she did, she pouted and tears were ready to roll down her eyes. She doesn't do that anymore, of course making sure the person she interacts with is safe.

Arnav is safe, she is sure he wouldn't kidnap her baby or try to sell her. She should have no problem letting him be friends with her except for the fact that the bond between them seems to be growing and he seems to be apologizing in different ways with his gaze every single day for hurting her, his eyes seeking forgiveness for every single time he hurt her. Just when he'd try to apologize verbally in his own way, she'd stop him, never let him talk. The only thing is that she couldn't bring herself to forgive him. But her grudge against him is softening, at least better than before.

"Hey, little princess, how are you?" Arnav kneeled down on the ground, caressing her two ponytails. She was dressed in a blue frock today, looking like a beautiful sky.

Riya began her chatter and Arnav listened to her aptly before she went away to have her playtime with the other toddlers, Khushi assisting them.

It became Arnav's daily ritual — to visit the park in Heaven Arcade in the evenings where Khushi brought Riya for playtime. Riya, the beautiful baby of 2 years had caught his heart in her small fist. The child, with her dimpled smile and eyes like liquid chocolate, reminded him of Khushi. He loves her, who couldn't if they get to interact with such a cute baby, a baby so similar to his Khushi? He watched them play, their laughter weaving a tapestry of healing.

Shantivan,

Khushi stood at the threshold of Shantivan's entrance, her heart racing. Finally, she gathered the courage to visit RM after a whole week and a half. The familiar scent of incense and old memories enveloped her. She rang the bell, taking a deep breath. She left Riya with her Babuji and Amma who were too glad to play with her and have some time spent with the toddler.

Arnav, who sat on the sofa with his laptop on went to check who was on the door. Shantivan is screaming its meaning in the truest form today, as it is buzzing with peace without Mami's Hello Hi Bye Bye, or Laxmi's Meh Meh. Manorama along with her daughter-in-law and mother-in-law, Payal and Devyani went to Satsang. Laxmi tagged along. It is just Anjali who's in the Kitchen with HP and Arnav who is on his work laptop on a Sunday.

"Khushi?" Arnav looked up, surprise and happiness etching his features as soon as he opened the door.

"I just came to meet Anjali-ji once, can I?" she sifted on her foot with nervousness, not wanting to meet his gaze.

"Chotte, who's that?" Anjali's voice echoed from the hallway.

"Khushi-ji?" Anjali's eyes widened in shock looking at Khushi after so long at the door.

"Di, how are you?" Khushi slightly smiled, asking for her well-being before walking in as Arnav moved aside.

"I am fine, Khushi-ji. But please, come in." Anjali, her sister-in-law, sat by the sofa, gesturing her to sit beside her on the same sofa. "How have you been, Khushi-ji?"

"I am sorry, di." Khushi was straight to the point after nodding to Anjali's query. In the quiet room, Khushi's words hung in the air, heavy with regret. She had come to apologize, to seek forgiveness for a secret she had kept hidden from the important person, and because of this, the consequences were bad.

"What?" Anjali leaned forward, confused, her eyes searching Khushi's face. But Arnav understood what she was trying to say just by looking at her eyes that were screaming regret.

"I am sorry, di." Khushi's voice trembled. "For everything."

Anjali's gaze softened understanding Khushi's unsaid words. "Khushi-ji, forgiveness is not something you need to ask for. I understand."

Khushi nodded, tears blurring her vision. "But I should have told you about Shyam. About his betrayal."

Anjali's heart slightly tugged in pain at his name but she was in the process of healing, reaching for Khushi's hand. "We all make mistakes, Khushi. It was mine too for never noticing the small details that were on my face. You weren't deliberate in hurting me."

Something tugged at Khushi's heart. Deliberate? Didn't she deliberately hurt Arnav to escape reality? But whatever Arnav did was in anger, not like her. Isn't it? Another realization dawned on her adding guilt to her consciousness. Recovering quickly, she stated, "But that wouldn't lessen my mistake, di. It's completely my mistake that I never told you the truth about Shyam-ji and made a decision to give him a chance when I had no right, it's my mistake and I became a bit selfish too, for Jiji's marriage. I shouldn't have. That's so wrong of me. That's why I am sorry, di." Khushi's gaze dropped to the floor. "Do you forgive me, di?" she whispered, her heart pounding.

As the room filled with unspoken words, Khushi felt the weight of regrets and hurt. At that moment, she had also realized how it was for Arnav to ask for her forgiveness. Like her heart is thudding in fear and regret, his heart must have thudded in regret too.

Anjali's forgiveness was a balm for her wounded soul, and in that quiet moment, she was anticipating healing. Like Arnav must have anticipated it. But she never tried granting it. All in her thirst for a new life, to be free of him or is it revenge?

"Khushi-ji, let bygones be bygones. We can't change anything," Anjali said softly, after a long moment of silence, her voice a soothing balm. She tightened her hold on Khushi's hand, a silent reassurance that forgiveness was within reach.

"But there is, Di. There is." Khushi's voice trembled as she nodded in denial. "I have no right to decide on your behalf and hide the truth from you. Do I? Weren't you hurt that I had hidden the truth?"

Anjali sighed, her eyes searching Khushi's face. "Yes, Khushi-ji. I did feel hurt. But it's all in the past now. We can't undo what's done, but we can only move forward. That's what I am doing. You need to, too."

Looking at Khushi's downcast form, Anjali continued, "And if my forgiveness gives you peace, then I will, Khushi-ji," Anjali said, her smile soft and forgiving.

Did she deserve it? Yet Khushi's shoulders sagged with a slight relief and then with guilt that she had been never able to do that for Arnav, especially when his actions and words weren't deliberate, unlike hers.

At that moment, the weight started lifting off, slightly. Not completely yet. To heal, you need time. The burden of guilt had considerably lessened but another added. The room seemed to exhale and inhale some, releasing years of pain and breathing in some, in small portions at least. Khushi had sought redemption, and Anjali had offered it willingly.

And so, in the quiet of that morning, forgiveness became their shared refuge, a bridge between what was and what could be.

Arnav was just a spectator.

Until Khushi looked at him in the eye.

"I want to talk to you too," Khushi muttered.

If Arnav was surprised, he hid it and led her to the garden. Anjali gave them the space.

She walked with him, determined to apologize to him too.

Her thoughts went to another angle. If she took a chance to talk and apologize, he had already done that, he talked to her, he apologized to her, he regretted, he pleaded, and yet she couldn't forgive him. She should at least try. Not for his sake but for her own sake. Maybe then she'd ease the hurt and grudge she had in her heart. And what was the grudge for? That he hurt her with his words? But didn't he say it was all in anger and hurt? Her actions weren't that right too. She shouldn't have gone to Anjali's room, she liked Sakshi but after whatever Saskhi did, she didn't feel like looking at her. Anjali's condition was a little extreme. How would have she felt? To see the other woman giving words about her unborn baby? She should have stayed out of it. No wonder Arnav was angry. His anger came from the hurt.

But that doesn't mean his words didn't hurt her, they did and that's why she left him. 

And what was she doing all these years? In her anger and her hurt, wasn't she hurting him as he did? While his actions or words were not deliberate to hurt her, hers had been deliberate, the Nainital night came rushing back to him. Guilt gnawed at her heart. She had hurt him too much. Like he did. She didn't want to measure who hurt who more. What less hurting to one might be more hurting to another. They hurt each other, nonetheless.  The only difference was that he did all of it because of a misunderstanding and she had no misunderstandings.

Forget about her forgiving him, does she deserve his forgiveness? She might not deserve forgiveness for hiding things from him, especially when seems to be falling for him, but she would never deserve forgiveness for all of that she did, in a desperate to escape and be free of him and all that she had put him through.

Yet she has to seek his forgiveness, for her own sanity, for lessening her guilt, and grant him one. Whoever quoted that to forgive is to set a prisoner free and discover that the prisoner was you might have been right. She needs to try. For the past five years, she never tried it. Now she would. That doesn't mean she forgets and gets back to him. That needs time. Getting back to him isn't even on the list or better say it was another thing. They hurt each other way too much to go back in time. Forgiveness is what she had to start with, he already did long before, as soon as he uttered the words that hurt her.

Arnav on the other hand was all set to apologize again, including the words he uttered for her in Mumbai.

"Khushi, before you say anything, I want to apologize for accusing you of lying," Arnav's voice was raw, the weight of his words hanging in the air like a storm cloud. His gaze bore into hers, seeking absolution.

"Lying?" Khushi's voice held screaming confusion as her eyebrows frowned together.

"In Mumbai, didn't I think you were lying about Riya's parenthood? I am sorry for that. I know the truth now that you are Riya's Mother and Rohan her father, you never gave me a chance to apologize for that and whenever I tried, you shut me up." 

"I am sorry too," Her words were a whisper, a fragile bridge between their broken hearts.

Arnav's confusion mirrored her own from a few minutes ago, "What?"

"I am sorry for not telling you about Shyam. You deserved to know about him as much as Di did and so is everyone from your family. But I didn't do that. I am sorry for that. Maybe if I told you about Shyam, things could have been different." Khushi clarified.

"Yes, Khushi, things would have been different if I had given you a chance to explain your side before marrying you but.." he trailed off. His jaw clenched. The memory of that fateful day on the terrace resurfaced—the pain, the anger, the shattered trust that is yet to bloom fully. The thought of asking Khushi about her side had hit him the very same day when he saw them on the terrace but the betrayal from Shyam was too much to take. He wasn't even able to handle what Shyam did, what if Khushi too agreed like Shyam, how could he take it? The scars of his past ran too deep. He isn't that strong. He was still that 14-year-old boy who was stuck in the past, the past which still hurts him.

"I..Anjali Di forgave me but I don't think I deserve it coming to think of it," Khushi muttered softly, gulping the pain down. Her admission hung in the air, a confession of guilt and regret. If Anjali wanted, she could have rightfully blamed her for hiding the truth but she understood the reasons she hadn't even told before until today and forgave her, hadn't had any grudge against her.

"Especially yours," she muttered through her constricted throat with pain, "I don't deserve your forgiveness too," Khushi whispered, her voice fragile. The words hung in the air, a fragile bridge between their broken hearts. In a desperate attempt to be free of him, she did the same as him. While his actions had the right reasons that were hurried, hers held the reasons too that were sometimes a little right and sometimes wrong, sometimes hurried and sometimes unhurried. They wouldn't excuse the pain she inflicted upon him.

"Neither do I, Khushi," Arnav replied, his voice equally raw. His actions had been fueled by anger, misunderstanding, and the scars of his past. His reasons were right but his actions were not. But that didn't excuse the pain he'd inflicted upon Khushi. He didn't deserve forgiveness for hurting her. He'd never forgive himself for hurting her, no matter if Khushi did or not.

Khushi's heart weighed heavy with the burden of their shared mistakes.

Arnav's eyes bore into hers". What we need is not each other's forgiveness, Khushi," he said softly. "We are way past that. We are just humans, flawed and fragile. We make mistakes, Khushi, but we also amend them." he gulped and hesitated before continuing, wanting to take this chance, maybe the last one, "Just give us a chance to amend us, please, will you?"

Khushi hesitated, torn between the past and the possibility of a future.

Arnav's eyes searched hers, hope flickering like a distant star.

"And we can only amend us when we forgive each other, Arnav."

She smiled. Amending each other will take time. Forgiveness is the first step.

Could they rewrite their story, and stitch together the torn fabric of love? The answer lay in the uncharted territory ahead — a chance to amend, to heal, to find solace in imperfection.

And so, they stood there, two souls teetering on the edge of forgiveness, waiting for the fragile bridge to hold or crumble beneath their feet.

A queen is not necessarily a perfect woman; she does make mistakes too. Those who not only learn from their mistakes but also make amends for them are the real queens.

And so is Khushi.

And the one who stands beside his Queen in every step of her life, sometimes to show her the right path, sometimes to save her and sometimes just to take a back seat and let the queen lead, is the Real King.

And so is Arnav.

The End

Regards,

Poly

05/04/2024

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