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‼️3.9k votes and 2k comments on this chapter.‼️

Hi loves, let's talk real quick-those random one-letter or one-word comments like 'A,' 'B,' or 'my' honestly frustrate me so much. It doesn't align with the story or the vibe here, and I really don't like it. Please stop doing that. If it happens again, I'll have to delete them Respectfully.

Let's keep it meaningful & classy okay?
Thanks for understanding!

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किसी शाम की तरह
तेरा रंग है खिला
मैं रात इक तन्हा
तू चाँद सा मिला
हाँ तुझे देखता रहा
किसी खाब की तरह
जो अब सामने है तू
हो कैसे यकीं भला
टूटा जो कभी तारा सजना वे
तुझे रब से माँगा
रब से जो माँगा मिलेया वे
तू मिलेया तो जाने ना दूंगा मैं

I zipped up my bag, ready to leave. Sidharth ji was still sitting on the sofa, eyes glued to his phone, unusually quiet. Normally, he was silent, but now, he seemed distant-cold even. I couldn't shake the concerned feeling.

"Packing ho gayi, chale?" I asked, breaking the silence.

(Packing is done. Let's go)

Sidharth ji didn't answer right away. He just stood up, walked over, and took the bag from my hand without a word. I blinked in surprise. I looked up at him, but he didn't say anything.

"Hmm chaliye," he just hummed and gestured for me to move ahead.

(Hmm, let's go)

As I took a step forward, I noticed his eyes shift down to my feet, then to my pallu.

Kya kar rahe hai ye?
(What is he doing?)

I didn't understand why, but I felt his gaze follow me. Before I could process it, he gently gathered the pallu, collected it in his hand & then looked up at me like telling to walk

I couldn't help but blush, remembering the time I was about to fall& he saved me from falling down the stairs & then walked al around like this.

I shook my head, embarrassed.

"Hey Bhagwan," I muttered to myself, trying to ignore the warmth spreading across my face. He didn't speak, just silently gestured for me to go. But his quiet actions had already spoken louder than words.

The early morning air felt cool, the sky still dark with the promise of a new day. As we walked out, Sidharth Ji opened the car door for me, his silence stretching between us. I hesitated but climbed inside, feeling the quiet around us.

He placed my bag in the trunk before returning to the driver's side but then stopped. I watched, unsure of what he was doing. What's he up to? I thought to myself, furrowing my brow.

He turned toward the garden, speaking to the gardener. I couldn't hear clearly, but I saw the gardener nod. Why is he talking to him now? My thoughts raced, but I didn't ask. I just watched him as he returned to the car, sliding into the driver's seat without a word. I turned my gaze away, feeling a bit confused.

The car started, and the drive began.
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The drive had stretched into its second hour now. The sky had lightened, the early winter sun casting a soft, pale glow on the road ahead. The air outside was crisp, and the cool breeze felt like a quiet reminder of the season, but the car windows remained shut. I sat straight, trying to stay calm, though the tension in the car was almost tangible.

Sidharth ji's grip on the steering wheel was firm, his jaw tight, and his gaze fixed on the road. He hadn't spoken a word since we left. He hadn't uttered a single word.

But I didn't need him to say anything. His silence, the faint frown on his face, the way his shoulders seemed just a little more rigid than usual-it all said enough.

How much love he has for Dada ji in his heart, I thought, my own heart tightening at the realization. He never showed much emotion, but even without words, I could feel it. His love for his grandfather was written in his every action.

I glanced at my phone. 7:00 AM. My lips pressed together. This was the time Sidharth Ji always had his tea. Just one cup of tea, marks the start of his day.

I bit my lip nervously, fumbling with the bag on my lap. My fingers trembled slightly as I unzipped it and pulled out the thermos.

Chai garam nahi hui na to aaj phek hi dungi isko!

I shook my head, pulling out a few paper cups next.

As I glanced at Sidharth ji, still driving with one hand on the steering wheel, I hesitated. His other hand rested lightly near the gear stick, moving occasionally. He looked so serious, so focused, that I felt my nerves double. My heart skipped a beat. I don't know, should I offer him tea now or not? What if he gets angry?

I swallowed hard, clutching the thermos tightly. Then, meekly, I opened my mouth, my voice coming out softer than I intended.

"Suniye"

As soon as the words left my lips, Siddharth ji turned his attention toward me. His bare eyes-without the glasses, he usually wore-met mine. The intensity in them made my confidence falter. I felt my heart skip a beat, and just like that, the nerves were back.

His eyes....

"Chai... chai pi lijea," I stammered, almost dropping the paper cup as I extended it toward him. My fingers trembled slightly, and for a second, I thought he might refuse. Instead, his gaze shifted to the steaming tea in the cup and then back to me. Without a word, he pulled the car over to the side of the road.

He reached out, his hand brushing lightly against mine as he took the cup. I let out a small sigh of relief. His acceptance made me smile, just a little, but enough to ease some of my nervousness. He didn't say anything, but I took the moment to pour myself a cup of tea from the thermos.

As I took a sip, the warm tea calming my jittery nerves, I felt Sidharth ji's eyes on me. His gaze was quiet, unreadable, but it lingered long enough to make me self-conscious. Ab kya galat kar diya maine?

"Aapne khaane ke liye kuch nahi liya?" he asked suddenly, his voice breaking the silence. His voice, deep and steady, broke the quiet hum of the car,

("You didn't bring anything to eat?")

I frown. There was something about the way he spoke-calm, composed, yet carrying an authority that made me sit straighter. His tone wasn't scolding, but it carried enough weight to make me feel like I should've been more prepared.

I shook my head instinctively, looking away. "Hume kuch lena chahiye tha..." I murmured, almost to myself.

("I should've brought something...")

Of course mujhe kuch lana chahiye tha. Obvious baat hai, breakfast time hai. My thoughts spiraled as I sipped my tea. Ab woh kya soch rahe honge mere baare mein? Kitni stupid lag rahi hongi main.

I bit my lip, trying to push away the embarrassment, but it clung to me like a shadow.

(Of course, I should've brought something. It's obvious, it's breakfast time. Now, what must he be thinking about me? How stupid I must look.)

Sidharth ji finished his tea and tossed the empty paper cup outside. He didn't say anything, but his silence felt heavier this time, like it was weighing down on me and started driving. I sat there, holding my own cup, trying not to overthink.

Just then, the car slowed down again, and I realized we were stopping. I looked up and noticed a small tea stall on the side of the highway. The faint aroma of fried snacks wafted through the air, and my stomach churned slightly in hunger.

Sidharth ji turned to me briefly and said, "Main aata hoon."

("I'll be back.")

As Sidharth ji walked back to the car, I couldn't stop staring. The way he carried himself-so calm, so assured-left me feeling small in comparison. I noticed him at the tea stall earlier, pulling out his wallet and buying something.
My mind raced. Bade log aise raste ke stall par rukte hain kya?

(Do rich people like him even stop at roadside stalls?)

But then I shook my head, trying to push the thought aside. I saw him coming back.

When he opened the car door and placed a small polybag on my lap, I froze. My hands hovered over it as I looked at him, confused. Before I could even ask, he said in his usual composed tone,

"I can only find these here. I hope it's okay."

I didn't know what to say. My fingers slowly worked at the bag's knot, and when I finally opened it, my heart skipped a beat.

Those biscuits.

Wahi tea stall waale biscuits.

(The same tea stall biscuits)

Baba used to bring these home all the time. My lips curled into a small smile as I stared at them. It felt like a piece of my childhood had suddenly landed in my lap.

Sidharth ji started the car again, breaking my moment of nostalgia. His voice was steady, but there was something almost gentle in it.

"Once your father mentioned how much you liked them," he said without looking at me. "So I hope it's okay."

I turned to him, my heart skipping a beat. I was stunned. Inhe yeh yaad hai? Itni si baat?

(He remembers this? Something so small?)

My cheeks warmed as I tried to process it. My heart skipped a beat & I felt cared.

"Iski zarurat nahi thi," I mumbled, more to myself than to him.

(There was no need of this.)

His brow furrowed slightly as he glanced my way. His voice turned firm, almost commanding, as he said,

"Eat. You don't know the situation there. You might not get breakfast anytime soon. For now, eat these."

I shrank back slightly at his tone, but he wasn't wrong. Hesitantly, I pulled out a biscuit and held it in my hand. But just as I was about to take a bite, I glanced at him.

He was driving, his jaw set and focused. His bare arms flexed slightly as he turned the steering wheel, the veins on his hand more prominent in the morning light. He also hadn't anything.

My heart raced as I stared at the biscuit, then back at him. Gathering all my courage, I nervously forwarded the biscuit toward him. My voice barely came out as I said,

"Aap bhi... kha lijiye."

(You also... have one.)

He glanced at the biscuit and then at me, his sharp eyes making my breath catch. With a small shake of his head, he said,

"I don't eat biscuit," and turned his focus back to the road.

Hearing his words, I frowned slightly. I glanced at the biscuit in my hand, hesitating, and then forwarded it toward him again, my fingers trembling just a little.

I felt silly and nervous even as I avoided looking directly at him. My mind raced with excuses for why I was doing this, but none of them made sense. Finally, I softly repeated his earlier words,

"Aapne kaha na...Waha situation ka pata nahi to...t-thora kha lijea"

(You said... if we don't get anything there, we should eat this.)

At my words, Sidharth ji turned his head slightly toward me, his brows raising just a bit. And then, a small, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips as he shook his head, the gesture quiet but somehow affecting me deeply.

I still held the biscuit forward, unsure what I was even doing. And then, before I could pull back, he leaned forward, his mouth lowering toward the biscuit. My heart stopped.

I didn't expect it-any of it. My hand froze as his lips brushed the edge of the biscuit, taking a small bite.

My cheeks burned instantly. I was sure my face was the color of a ripe tomato. I looked away quickly, not knowing what to do. My hand was still holding the biscuit, trembling slightly.

He sat back in his seat, chewing calmly like nothing had happened. My heart, however, was racing uncontrollably.

What did he just do?

Before I could gather my thoughts, he reached out, his hand closing around my wrist gently but firmly. My eyes darted back to him, wide and startled. Without saying a word, he guided my hand with the same biscuit I was holding and brought it back toward me.

"Aap bhi lijea."

(You too eat)

His voice was quiet, almost soft, but there was something in his tone that left no room for refusal. My throat felt dry, and I nodded faintly, taking a small bite where he had already eaten. My heart skipped a beat, but I didn't dare look at him.

I watched as Sidharth ji chewed the biscuit, his movements unhurried, his eyes focused ahead. The sight of him eating the same biscuit I had offered left an odd warmth blooming in my chest. My gaze flickered to the biscuit still in my hand, and as soon as he swallowed the last of it, I found myself quickly forwarding the same biscuit toward him again, almost without thinking

But just as he leaned slightly forward to take another bite, it struck me-it was my biscuit, mera jhootha.

(My used one.)

My breath hitched, and in a rush of nervous realization, I pulled the biscuit back.

"Rukiye, y-yeh toh mera jhootha hai,"

(Stop,this is mine; it's used,)

I blurted, fumbling to grab another biscuit from the polybag

I reached for another biscuit to offer him instead, but before I could, I felt a light but firm grip on my wrist.

Goosebumps rose instantly, where his fingers touched my skin-cool to the touch, yet with a certain warmth that seeped through. His grip was steady, and my heart skipped a beat, the thrum of it so loud I was sure he could hear it. My eyes widened as I glanced at him, but he wasn't even looking at me.

Instead, Sidharth ji's attention was fixed on the biscuit in my hand. He leaned forward, brushing his lips against my fingers as he took the small, remaining bite of the biscuit.

My breath stopped for a moment.

My cheeks burned, and I instinctively looked away, clutching my lap with my free hand as if trying to steady myself. He ate the biscuit as if it was the most normal thing to do, his jaw moving slightly while his gaze remained ahead on the road.

Meanwhile, my thoughts were a chaotic swirl-my heart racing, my fingers tingling from the brief contact.

Kya ho gya hai inko?

(What happened to him?)
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After a few hours, Noor's eyes fluttered open, the sudden sensation of someone shaking her, making her groggy. Her head was heavy, and everything felt blurred. She squinted, trying to focus. The first thing she noticed was Siddharth leaning toward her calling her name.

"Noor," he said again, his voice cutting through the fog in her mind. She blinked, still trying to shake off the sleepiness. When did she fell asleep?

She turned toward him, but everything around her seemed too blurry to process. She squinted and saw the old, imposing structure of a building in front of them, its heavy stone walls framed by thick rain. The storm was violent, cats and dogs falling from the sky, and everything around her seemed to blend together in the chaos of the downpour.

They were in front of the house, but the rain made it difficult for her to see it clearly.

Sidharth was already undoing his seatbelt, his movements quick and sharp. She looked at him, confusion clouding her thoughts, but there was something else in his presence-a chill in the air that made her heart race.

His voice, when he spoke, was colder than it had ever been. His jaw was clenched tight, and his eyes, usually intense, were now cold-so cold they seemed distant, dangerous even.

He looked angry like never before, as if he was holding something back, and it made her stomach tighten with fear. She didn't know why, but she felt a flicker of unease, the air around them suddenly thick with tension.

"We've arrived" he said, his words sharp, clipped.

His disheveled hair, his undone shirt cuffs, the way his jaw was tight-all of it felt like a warning, like a storm brewing inside of him.

Noor stared at him, feeling her pulse quicken. She was about to unbuckle her seatbelt when she realized, for some reason, she couldn't take her eyes off him. The storm outside seemed nothing compared to the one brewing between them.

Just as she was about to open the door and face the storm outside, she felt his hand grasp her wrist. The suddenness of it made her heart skip a beat. She gasped, her eyes widening as his fingers closed around her wrist with a firm grip, pulling her back.

"Sit," his voice was low, almost a command.

Her breath hitched. She looked at him, wide-eyed, feeling her lips part in surprise. She didn't know what to say, the tension too thick to breathe through.

Without saying another word, Sidharth opened the car door, his movements steady and calculated. Then he stepped out of the car and walked towards her. His steps were purposeful and determined.

He leaned into the car, his face coming dangerously close to hers as he adjusted his coat over her. The rain fell heavily around him, soaking his shirt, but he didn't seem to mind. His half-body was out of the car, his coat now covering her head, shielding her from the relentless downpour.

Noor's eyes were wide, her heart pounding in her chest as she felt his wet fingers brush her neck, the coolness of his touch sending goosebumps across her skin. His touch was so precise, so intentional, and it made her bite her lip in nervousness.

Her entire body was on alert, her breath catching in her throat as she felt his presence encircle her.

His fingers, cold and wet from the rain, were tender as they adjusted the coat over her head, his touch lingering. She felt a jolt run through her, the warmth of his hand contrasting with the coolness of the rain. Her skin tingled where he had touched her, and she couldn't look away.

He wasn't even looking at her, his face focused on the task, but Noor couldn't shake the overwhelming tension between them. When he was finally done adjusting the coat, he looked at her. His eyes-cold and unyielding moments ago-had softened, just for a second.

Noor felt her heart leap in her chest. The coldness in his eyes had shifted, if only for a moment, to something warmer, something deeper. But it was fleeting.

The sudden shift in his gaze sent a wave of heat crashing through her. She didn't know how to react, didn't know what to make of it. Her body was trembling, her mind racing with a thousand thoughts she couldn't process.

She couldn't breathe. The distance between them was small, the tension so high she felt like she could burst. Sidharth wasn't saying anything, but his actions spoke volumes. And Noor was completely lost in them.

And just then the thunderstorm broke, pulling them both out of each other.

Sidharth stood up straight, his movements deliberate and steady. Without saying a word, he reached out and entwined his fingers with Noor's without any word.

His grip was firm, pulling her gently but firmly out of the car. Noor couldn't help but notice the shift in his energy as he did-there was an intensity to him now, a coldness that seemed to grow with each step. His white shirt clung to his body, soaked by the rain, outlining his broad chest and the tension in his muscles.

The storm outside was nothing compared to the storm inside him.

With every passing second, his aura darkened. It was like the weight of his thoughts was pressing down on him, making his presence feel heavier, colder. His grip on her fingers tightened, but she didn't complain. There was something about him, something dangerous yet magnetic. She felt the pull of it, even though it frightened her.

They reached the front door of the haveli, where Noor noticed her mother-in-law, standing on the stairs under the shelter of the roof. Akriti and Adarsh stood nearby, watching as Sidharth and Noor approached.

Sidharth's mother, always caring and protective, walked toward them with concern. She took Sidharth's hand gently and pulled him inside, at the front door of haveli, away from the cold. Noor followed them, her eyes lingering on Sidharth, still processing the intensity of what had just happened.

Without a word, her mother in law quickly began wiping the rain from Sidharth's face, her hands gentle and practiced.

"You're all wet, beta," she said softly, her voice laced with concern. "You should take care of yourself. Where is the gaurd? He didn't give you umbrella!"

Sidharth didn't respond, his jaw still clenched tightly, his expression unreadable. There was an anger there, controlled but evident, like he was holding back something that was ready to break free. His confidence was undeniable, but there was a mystery in the way he carried himself. The tension in his body told a story he wasn't ready to share.

Her mother in law turned to Noor, noticing the concern in her eyes.

"Are you alright, beta?" she asked gently.

Noor nodded, her heart still racing from everything that had just happened.

She was still trying to process everything-the way Sidharth had looked at her, the way he had touched her. It was all so overwhelming.

Noor quietly bent down to touch her mother-in-law's feet, seeking her blessings. She with a soft and loving smile, placed her hand gently on Noor's head, a tender gesture of affection. But then, her gaze shifted to Sidharth.

"Beta, pehle change kar lo. Warma bimar ho jaoge," Maa said, her voice laced with concern.

(Son? Change first otherwise you'll get sick)

Noor followed her mother-in-law's gaze, her eyes tracing Siddharth's figure. He looked different now-darker, more intense. The veins in his neck were popping out, his shirt clinging tightly to his body, showcasing the powerful muscles beneath. His nose was flushed red, his face hard and unreadable.

Sidharth didn't react. His eyes were distant, lost in something unknown. Maa's hand reached out to him, holding his with a pleading tone.

"Please, beta. Mere liye." The words didn't sound as simple as they were. There was something deeper, more emotional, in the way she said them.

Sidharth's expression faltered for a second, a look Noor couldn't quite place-almost painful, as if something inside him had shifted. His grip on Noor's hand tightened. She could feel it, the tension in his muscles, in the air. But then, to Noor's surprise, he nodded.

Maa smiled softly, patting his cheek, and then turned to Adarsh. "Go with your brother, beta. Let him change."

Maa then turned to Noor, who stood there, watching everything unfold with a confused expression. She was trying to make sense of Siddharth's mood, his reactions, but it only seemed to deepen the mystery surrounding him.

"Chalo beta, ander chalo. Yaha thand hai bahut," Maa said, her voice gentle yet firm.

(Let's go inside. It's too cold here)

Noor nodded, following her mother-in-law inside. But as they were about to enter, Noor glanced at Sidharth. She saw him close his eyes, clenching his jaw tightly, a silent storm brewing inside him. His hand, still holding hers, loosened just a little, but he quickly tightened his grip again.

They entered the house, the warmth of the interior a stark contrast to the storm outside. Maa gestured for Noor to follow her, and Noor, still feeling the weight of Sidharth's presence, walked along.

Sidharth stopped just before turning away. He looked at Noor once, his gaze deep and mysterious, as if there were unspoken words between them. His voice, low and steady, broke the silence.

"Mai yahi hu"

(I'm here)

Noor felt her heart flutter at his words, a warmth spreading through her chest. It was strange, comforting, but also unsettling. His reassurance made her feel a little less afraid, but the tension between them lingered.

Sidharth released her hand, but as he walked away, he turned back once more. His gaze locked with Noor's, and for a moment, she saw something in his eyes-something raw and untamed. Then, he walked away without another word.

Maa, watching all of this, smiled gently at Noor.

"Beta. Let's meet your grandfather and grandmother. They've been waiting for you both since morning or do you want to freshen uo first?"

Noor nodded, a soft blush creeping up her cheeks. "Let's meet them first," she said quietly.

She reached for the end of her pallu, pulling it over her head as a sign of respect, the traditional gesture reminding her of the weight of the moment. Maa smiled but said nothing as they moved forward, walking deeper into the house.

The atmosphere inside was different. Her mother in law knocked on a door twice before getting in. The room they entered had an old-world charm, a regal and almost haunting air. It felt royal, yet aged, like something out of a time forgotten.

The bedroom had an imposing air, where a man lay resting, and a woman sat beside him in a chair.

The woman looked powerful, her presence commanding the room. She was in her late 80s, regal, with an aura of control that matched the space she inhabited. The man, though resting, exuded power even in his stillness.

Noor felt a shiver run down her spine as she stepped forward. Her hand instinctively clutched her mother's, her nerves on edge. But she pushed the fear away, standing tall in front of the man who lay before her.

The woman, still seated in her chair, did not move. Noor's mother-in-law walked towards her, smiling softly, and then spoke,

"Maa,Yehi meri bahu hai." Her voice was gentle, but filed with pride. Noor could feel the weight of her words.

Noor's gaze shifted to the woman, her dadi. The older woman's eyes met hers for a moment, sharp and searching. Noor felt a chill run through her as the woman's gaze slowly dropped, and she bent down to touch her feet in respect.

The old women blessing was quiet, but Noor felt it deeply, like something ancient and powerful had passed through her. Standing up, she walked toward the man lying still on the bed. His eyes never left her, but he remained silent. Noor repeated the same respectful gesture, bending to touch his feet. His blessing, too, was silent, yet it felt heavy with meaning.

Noor stood beside her mother-in-law again, still clutching the pallu, adjusting it. balancing it carefully. The room felt thick with tension, and she could sense the weight of both their eyes on her. Dadi's gaze swept over her, slow and calculating, and Noor couldn't help but feel small under her scrutiny.

Confusion and fear filled Noor's chest, not knowing what to do or how to stand before these two powerful figures. She has never faced this kind of situation before.

In a quiet moment, she missed Sidharth, wishing he was here. But before she could dwell on the thought, Dadi's voice broke the silence.

"Yehi hi hai mere Siddharth ke dulhan." The words came out like a command, full of authority, like the voice of someone who ruled over everything around her.

(She's is my Sidharth's bride)

Noor stood still, unable to answer, her throat tight with uncertainty. Her eyes shifted down to the floor.

Dadi's gaze didn't leave her as she turned slightly toward Noor's mother-in-law, the words now aimed at her.

But then, the old woman's gaze returned to Noor. She leaned back in her chair, more relaxed now, but the air around her was still full of control.

"Naam kya aapka?" she asked.

(What's your name?)

Noor opened her mouth, ready to speak, but before she could answer, she felt something. A presence behind her. A warmth.

For a split second, she froze, feeling someone close behind her, the heat of their body pressing against her shoulder. A hand, strong yet gentle, came around her, resting on her shoulder.

She pulled back, startled, and turned her head.

It was Sidharth.

He stood just behind her, his body close to hers, one step behind yet solid, unmovable. His hand was still on her shoulder, a quiet but powerful message in his touch. It wasn't an embrace, but it was something stronger, something that told her, without words, that he was there for her.

Noor continued to stare at him, her heart racing, unsure of what to say or do.

Then, Siddharth spoke, his voice steady and firm, cutting through the tension in the room.

"Noor Siddharth Singh Rajvardhan."

He tightened his grip on her shoulder slightly, pulling her closer just a little, then said, his words heavy with meaning,

His hand gripped her shoulder a bit tighter as he added,

"Yehi naam hai meri biwi ka."

(That's my wife name)

And with that, the room fell silent again, but the weight of his words lingered, hanging in the air between them.
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