"Aapke bina hum thodi na reh sakte hai."

"Aap hamara pura duniya hai, Sona! Jaha tum, wahi hum."

"Pehli mulakaat mein humko aapse pyaar hogya hai, Sonakshi."

"Aapko chod kar kaha jaa sakte hai hum?"

His words echoed in her mind, weaving through the silence that had consumed her life.

They once made her heart flutter; now, they felt like ghosts, haunting her every moment. Sonakshi sat at the small wooden table, her diary open before her, the ink smudged where her trembling hand had rested.

The moments they shared, the promises they made—everything replayed in her mind like a film she couldn’t pause.

It had been three months. Three agonizing months since Dev disappeared. The world had moved on, the police had stopped looking, but Sonakshi’s life had come to a standstill. She clung to hope like a lifeline, even as it began to fray.

“Sonakshi, make some tea, dear! It’s almost 4. You know how your father-in-law is! Hurry up,” Asha’s sharp voice jolted her back to reality.

Her hands froze, gripping the diary for a moment before she snapped it shut. The paper inside was crinkled, but she didn’t care.

Adjusting her saree, she tucked the loose end into her waist and hurried into the kitchen. The familiar routine gave her something to hold on to, even as her thoughts spiraled.

Will he ever come back? she wondered as she poured milk into the pan. Is he even alive?

She stirred the milk absentmindedly, her gaze unfocused. Dev’s laughter filled her ears as if he were still there.

"‘Pehli mulakaat mein humko aapse pyaar hogya hai, Sonakshi,’ he said, his voice teasing but sincere.

She had laughed then, brushing it off as one of his silly jokes. But now, the memory brought only pain.

Was it all real? Or had there been something else, something he’d kept hidden from her?"

The whistle of the boiling milk snapped her out of her thoughts. She turned off the flame and blinked away the tears threatening to spill.

Crying wouldn’t bring him back. It wouldn’t answer the questions that gnawed at her every day.

But she couldn’t stop herself from wondering—what if this is all I have left of him?

Her mother’s voice echoed in her mind, dragging her deeper into the weight of reality:

"Suna hai, Sona ki saas walon ne use bohot taane diye hai ki Dev gayab hone ki karan Sona hai. Uski kya kasoor hai bhala? Mein kehti hoon, lekar aajana usse wapas hamari ghar, Sona ke papa ji. Ab aur kya bacha hai hamari bachi ko vaha pe aur khone ke liye?"

Her parents’ concern only added to the pressure. Everyone was looking for someone to blame, and Sonakshi had become the easiest target.

Her in-laws, the neighbors, even strangers whispered behind her back. Each comment felt like a stab, but the pain only fueled her determination.

He has to come back. He will come back, she told herself.

She wiped her hands on her saree and took a deep breath. Dev wasn’t just her husband—he was her world. If he wasn’t here, then she would find him, no matter what it took.

As she poured tea into cups, her gaze lingered on the empty chair at the dining table. It had been his favorite spot, where he would sit every evening with a steaming cup of tea, sharing stories about his day. Now, the silence around that chair was deafening.

He has to return, she whispered to herself. The thought wasn’t just a hope—it was a promise she made to herself. No matter how long it took, no matter what obstacles lay ahead, she wouldn’t stop searching for him.

Sonakshi straightened her shoulders, her pallu brushing against the counter. This wasn’t just about finding Dev.

It was about reclaiming the life they had built together. She wasn’t going to let anyone—family, society, or fate—take that away from her.

With the tray in her hands, she stepped out of the kitchen, her resolve firmer than ever.

Dev might have been lost for now, but she would find him. And when she did, nothing in the world could tear them apart again.

"Bohot bardaasht kar liya hai humne, Dev. Ab humse aur nahi dekha jayega yeh aapka khel, ya jo kuch bhi aapne shuru kiya hai.Yeh khel ab aur nahi chalega, Dev. Ab iska ant hum likhenge."