तेरे मेरे बीच में बहती है सदियाँ
~ Anonymous

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting long shadows across the bedroom. Meera stood silently by the window, her fingers twisting nervously around the ends of her dupatta. She heard Shaurya's footsteps behind her but didn't turn around.

"Get ready," Shaurya ordered, his voice calm but cold.

Meera turned slightly, her eyes wide with hesitation. "Ji... w-where are we going?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"To the hospital," Shaurya replied, typing something in her phone without sparing her a glance. "To see Ishani."

Her heart sank. To the hospital?

She nodded slowly, reluctant but compliant. "Ji..."

She didn't want to go. She didn't want to face Ishani, her family, or worse—Vikrant. What if Vikrant was there? What if Shaurya lost his temper again? The memory of yesterday was still fresh in her mind, and it made her stomach churn.

Yesterday, Vardhaan had been there to intervene, but today? Who would save her if Shaurya's anger consumed him again?

The sound of running water filled the room as Shaurya stepped into the bathroom to shower. Meera sighed, trying to gather herself. She needed to stay calm, composed. She couldn't afford to provoke him.

She moved toward the wardrobe, pulling out a soft peach saree. Draping it carefully around her, she tried to focus on her reflection in the mirror. But her hands trembled as she adjusted the pleats, her mind clouded with fear.

The bathroom door opened suddenly, and Shaurya's eyes immediately fell on her. His expression darkened.

"Do you want to create a scene at the hospital?" he asked, his voice laced with irritation.

Meera froze, her eyes darting to meet his. "Ji?" she stuttered, confused.

Shaurya stepped closer, his gaze never leaving her. "That saree," he said, his tone quieter now but no less menacing. "It's inappropriate. You'll draw attention to yourself. Is that what you want? To flaunt yourself in front of others?"

"N-no! I—"

Her words died in her throat as he leaned in, his hand brushing lightly against her neck before trailing down to her collarbone. Her breath hitched.

He let his fingers trace her waist, pausing over the bandaged area where she had been hurt the day before. She flinched, a soft whimper escaping her lips.

"Kiske liye?" he muttered, his voice low and venomous. "kiski attention lene ja rahi ho, hmm? Vikrant? Ki koi or aashiq milne wala hai wahan?"

Tears welled up in Meera's eyes. Why was he like this? Why couldn't he see her for who she truly was? She could never cheat on him. Even though a part of her still felt something for Vikrant, she would never be the kind of woman to betray him, her own husband.

"S-Shaurya, I—"

"Save it," he snapped, cutting her off.

"I don't care for your excuses or your lies," he hissed. He stepped back abruptly, his eyes raking over her with disdain.

"Wear something modest. A suit. One that covers you properly. You're my wife, not some roadside whore."

His words stung more than any slap could have, and as he stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door shut, Meera stood there, paralyzed.

Forcing herself to move, she wiped her tears and turned to the closet.

He didn't let her wear what she liked, yet he mocked her for wearing what he bought.

Bitterness filled her chest as she rummaged through the wardrobe, only to find it filled with sarees.

"He himself bought me these sarees," she whispered. "And now he accuses me of wearing them to seek attention."

"He allowed Ishani dii to wear whatever she wants," she muttered to herself, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. "But me? No. For me, there are rules. Insults. There's always something wrong."

She sighed, shaking her head, and eventually pulled out a full-sleeved Anarkali suit. The muted peach color seemed dull to her, but it didn't matter. Nothing she wore would make her feel differently.

She shook her head, forcing herself to focus. It didn't matter what she thought. She just needed to survive.

When Shaurya returned, dressed impeccably in a dark suit, his eyes lingered on her for a moment. The small nod of approval he gave sent another wave of shame washing over her.

.
.
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The car ride to the hospital was quiet, but the tension was suffocating. Meera sat with her hands clasped tightly in her lap, staring out the window. Her thoughts raced but Shaurya's presence loomed over her like a storm cloud. She hated that she had to go, hated the fear coursing through her veins, but she had no choice.

What if Vikrant is there? What if Shaurya loses his temper again? What if Shaurya found another reason to unleash his anger on her? She wouldn't survive it again. Not after yesterday.

Her heart pounded with each passing moment as they neared the hospital. She couldn't afford to make a single mistake today.

When they arrived, Shaurya walked ahead without waiting for her. Meera followed closely behind, her head bowed.

As they entered Ishani's room, Ishani's face lit up.

"Bhaiya!" she exclaimed, her smile wide and genuine.

Shaurya's face softened immediately, a warmth Meera rarely saw from him. "Ishi," he greeted her, moving toward her bedside.

Meera lingered awkwardly by the door, unsure of where to stand. Her mother, Sahista, was already fussing over Ishani, barely sparing Meera a glance.

Sahista, greeted Shaurya with a warm smile, completely ignoring her. Meera's chest tightened.

When had this happened? When had her own mother replaced her with Ishani?

"Talk to your brother," Sahista said gently, stroking Ishani's hair. "I'll be back soon."

"Okay, Maa," Ishani replied with a soft laugh, and Meera's heart shattered.

Maa? When had her mother stopped being hers?

She could barely remember the last time her mother had spoken to her with that kind of affection.

Meera felt like a shadow in the corner, unseen and unwanted, as Shaurya sat beside Ishani. "How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice tender.

Meera couldn't help but notice how soft his tone was. He had spoken to her kindly too—last night but it was different—with Ishani, there was no pretense. No cruelty lurking beneath the surface. It was too genuine and pure.

"I'm fine, Bhaiya," Ishani replied with a smile.

Shaurya frowned at her lightly. "Don't scare me like that again."

"I'm sorry. But I'm okay now," Ishani reassured him. Her tone shifted slightly as she asked, "Where were you yesterday? You didn't come to see me."

Shaurya's gaze flicked to Meera before returning to Ishani.

"I was busy fixing a few things," he said, his tone calm but with an edge. "I just hope they won't need to be fixed again."

Meera's heart sank. her hands clutching the fabric of her suit tightly. She knew exactly what he meant. He was talking about her.

"Oh, Meera is also here?" Ishani's voice was light, almost dismissive, as she turned her gaze toward Meera. "I didn't even notice you standing there. What are you doing all the way at the door? Come sit."

But before Meera could respond, Shaurya's voice sliced through the air.

"Bhabhi, Ishi," he corrected, his tone firm. "She's elder to you in relation now. I don't want to hear you calling her by her name anymore."

Ishani's brow furrowed slightly, but she nodded. "Of course, Bhaiya. Bhabhi, come sit here."

Meera hesitated, her legs heavy, but she forced herself to walk toward Ishani. Maybe this would be okay. Maybe she could get through this without any more humiliation.

Shaurya's next words crushed that hope instantly.

"Meera is just here to apologize for her behavior, Ishi," he said, his tone casual yet sharp. "After that, she can wait outside. I'm here to spend time with my little sister."

Meera's stomach dropped. Apologize? He hadn't said anything about that before. Her lips parted, but no sound came out as Shaurya turned to her with a look that sent a chill down her spine.

"Meera," he said, his voice low, a hint of impatience and warning laced in his tone.

She swallowed hard, her throat dry, and forced the words out, though they tasted like ash on her tongue.

"I apolo-apologize for-for what ha-happened yes-yester-yesterday," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

She didn't wait for a response. Her humiliation burned too brightly, and tears threatened to spill over. She turned and fled the room, her heart pounding as she stumbled down the hallway.

Meera wiped her tears away as walked in to the empty corridor, trying to steady her breathing.

But before she could collect her thoughts, a hand grabbed her arm, yanking her forcefully into a nearby room.

Her back hit the wall, and she gasped, her eyes widening in fear. Who—

The door slammed shut behind her, leaving her in silence, her heart racing with terror as she saw the familiar face.

"Vikrant"

Honestly....My heart aches for Meera 🥺