As Disha's phone rang, jolting her back to reality, she hastily wiped away her tears. Searching through her bag, which lay on the ground near car, she finally found her phone.
Disha, taking a few steps back, answered the call.
Disha's mother, with a worried tone, asked, "Disha, where are you? It's getting late. When will you be coming home?"
Disha, forcing a smile, replied, "Yes, Mom, I'm on my way. You can go to sleep. I'll be home soon."
Disha's mom advised, "Okay, beta. Ask Kunal to drop you off. Don't take a cab at this hour."
Disha, after disconnecting the call, placed her phone inside her bag where she found a handkerchief. She approached Kunal and extended the handkerchief towards him. Kunal didn't take it, so Disha took a few steps closer, gently grasped Kunal's hand.
Disha skillfully wrapped the handkerchief around Kunal's wounded hand, applying gentle pressure to stem the bleeding. Her movements were precise, a reflection of her concern for his well-being in that moment of vulnerability.
Disha, after tending to Kunal's wounded hand, informed him that she was leaving due to the lateness of the hour.
Kunal nodded in response, turning away, and creating a path for Disha to leave.
Disha hesitated to leave as she felt Kunal wasn't in a condition to be left alone, and his wounded hand still required medical attention as it continued to bleed.
Kunal noticed Disha standing motionless, and he turned to face her, waiting for any sign or words from her.
Disha, showing empathy, said, "Let's go to the hospital, Kunal. We need to make sure your hand is properly treated."
Kunal sternly replied, "No, Disha. I don't need your help. Just go."
Disha stood her ground, arms crossed, and retorted, "Kunal, I'm not leaving until you get proper medical assistance for your injured hand. We need to take care of this bleeding."
Kunal, still looking away, realized that arguing with Disha was futile. He reluctantly agreed to let her help and silently walked with her towards the nearest hospital. The tension between them lingered in the air as they navigated through the quiet night.
Disha approached the receptionist and requested assistance for Kunal's injured hand. The receptionist guided them to the emergency ward, where a nurse attended to Kunal's wound.
Nurse: "What happened to your hand?"
Kunal, with a forced smile: "Just a little accident."
Nurse: "This seems more serious than it appears. Please wait; I'll arrange for you to see the doctor."
Kunal, growing increasingly uneasy, exchanged a worried glance with Disha.
Doctor: "What happened to your hand? How did you get this injury?"
Kunal hesitated for a moment before responding.
Kunal: "It's just a minor accident. I broke a car window accidentally."
Doctor: "Accidentally?"
Disha, standing a distance away, approached and intervened, stating that Kunal had been bleeding profusely for a considerable time, and his hand continued to bleed.
Disha: "Doctor, his hand has been bleeding for a while now.
The doctor, upon hearing the familiar voice, looked up in the direction of the sound, momentarily taken aback.
Disha, unable to recognize the doctor due to his mask, inquired if there was a serious injury.
Disha, with a puzzled expression, asked, "Is it a severe injury, doctor?"
The doctor shook his head, indicating it wasn't a severe injury, and instructed the nurse to stitch it properly and cover the wound. The doctor departed, leaving Disha and Kunal in the care of the nurse.
Disha, noticing the time was past 10:30, informed Kunal that she would be back shortly after letting her mother know she's getting late.
He waited as she left to make a phone call.
Disha called her mother and informed her about Kunal's injured hand. She reassured her mother that it wasn't a serious injury and insisted she should go to sleep, not to wait up for her, and that she would be home soon.
As Sameer reached his cabin, he removed his face mask, and dialed Aryan's number.
Aryan, engrossed in his work within the study, dismissed Sameer's incoming call without giving it much attention.
Sameer, frustrated by Aryan's initial dismissal, muttered a curse under his breath and dialed Aryan's number again, determined to get his attention.
Aryan, engrossed in his work, finally picked up Sameer's call with a lazy tone. He questioned, "Why are you bothering me? I'm working here." His irritation was evident as he spoke, focused on his tasks.
Sameer said, "Aryan, you might want to know that Disha is at the hospital with some guy who seems to have hurt his hand."
Upon hearing Disha's name, Aryan's previous laziness vanished, and his expression turned intense upon learning about the presence of a guy with her.
Aryan asked Sameer, "Where is she?"
Sameer updated Aryan, "She's still here. They are treating that guy's wound at the moment."
Aryan, upon learning about Disha's presence at the hospital, swiftly ended the call. Ignoring his casual attire, he hurriedly walked to his room, changed into formal clothing, snatched his car keys from the side table, and rushed out of the house.
Aryan's urgency led him to drive so swiftly that he reached the hospital in just 5 minutes, a journey that typically takes 10-12 minutes.
Aryan parked his car outside the hospital gate, stepped out, and leaned against his car. His gaze was fixed on the hospital entrance as he lit a cigarette, exuding an air of anticipation and restlessness.
As Disha patiently waited for Kunal, the hospital's sterile surroundings offered a stark contrast to the emotional turmoil she experienced. Once Kunal's treatment was complete, they walked together towards the exit, where an unexpected encounter awaited.
Disha signaled for a cab as they exited the hospital gate, hoping to secure a quick and convenient ride to their respective destinations.
Aryan, hidden in the shadows of the night, continued to smoke as he kept a watchful eye on Disha. His expression was unreadable, a mix of disdain and animosity, as he observed the scene unfolding before him.
Disha noticed Aryan leaning against his car, smoking a cigarette. Her eyes widened in surprise and confusion as she recognized him.
Aryan, extinguished his cigarette on the ground and tossed it away. He then with an icy expression started marching towards Disha, sending shivers down her spine.
Disha, feeling a wave of fear, instinctively took a step back as he continued to advance with a stern and unforgiving demeanor.
Aryan, with an intense expression, swiftly approached Disha and caught her off guard by firmly grabbing her hand. Without uttering a word, he started leading her towards his car, forcefully dragging her along, leaving Disha in a state of surprise and uncertainty.
Kunal, sensing the tension, hurriedly approached Disha and firmly held her other hand.
Aryan, now holding Disha's hand, shot a disdainful look at Kunal. Tension filled the air as the three of them stood there, caught in an uncomfortable moment.
Aryan sternly said, "Let go of her hand."
Kunal firmly asserted, "Release her hand now. Who do you think you are, forcibly taking her with you? Let go, or you'll face the consequences."
Aryan's low chuckle echoed with a sense of arrogance as he added, "Perhaps she should enlighten you about our connection."
Kunal's gaze fixed on Disha's face, searching for confirmation. He sensed the tension in the air and read the unspoken truth from her expression. However, he wanted to hear it explicitly from her, perhaps hoping for a different answer than what he expected.
Kunal's voice trembled, tears welled up in his eyes as he anxiously questioned, "Disha, who is he?"
Disha stood there, paralyzed by Kunal's shattered tone. The weight of the unspoken truth hung heavily in the air, and she hesitated to utter words that could inflict more pain upon him.
Aryan, who had been standing motionless, leaned down and whispered into Disha's ear, "Disha, tell him who I am."
Disha, torn between the two men and overwhelmed by the situation, hesitated for a moment. She looked at Kunal's teary eyes. The weight of her secret burdened her, and she finally whispered, "Kunal, he's Aryan, my fiancé."
Kunal, upon hearing the revelation, was shocked for a moment. However, as if he had already expected this, he slowly let go of Disha's hand and turned around, walking in a direction unknown to him.
Aryan's firm grip on Disha's hand prevented her from going after Kunal, anchoring her in place.
Aryan walked towards his car and instructed Disha to sit inside. She took the passenger seat while Aryan settled into the driver's seat, steering the car towards Disha's home.
The moment he began driving, complete silence enveloped them, with neither uttering a single word. After maintaining this quietude for a while, Disha finally spoke, questioning Aryan, "Why did you come and drag me with you?"
Aryan remained silent, ignoring Disha's question and keeping his attention on the road. Disha, growing frustrated, insisted on an answer, "Why did you behave so coldly with Kunal, especially when you saw he was already injured?"
Aryan remained silent, his anger simmering beneath the surface, palpable in the tense atmosphere of the car.
Disha, frustration and anger evident in her voice, raised her voice defiantly, asserting, "I am not your possession! You have no right to treat me in such a manner. I've had enough. I don't want to marry you, and that's final."
Aryan, previously silent, appeared to reach his limit. With a cold expression, he looked at Disha and said, "If you think you can break off this engagement, go ahead and try. But be aware, there will be consequences for your actions." The words carried a tone of displeasure, highlighting the tension in their conversation.
In response to Aryan's stern words, Disha, fueled by frustration, shot back, "I don't care about your consequences. I won't be trapped in a marriage I don't want. This is my decision, and you'll have to accept it."
Aryan's tone turned more menacing as he threatened Disha, "If you try to break this engagement, remember, I won't let it go so easily. Your family will have to face the consequences, and I won't hesitate to make them understand the gravity of your decisions. My family is content with this engagement, and I won't let you hurt them by breaking it."
In the ominous silence that followed Aryan's warning, Disha struggled to find the right words. The weight of the situation hung heavy in the air, leaving her feeling trapped and helpless. The car moved through the night, carrying with it the weight of unspoken fears and the uncertain future that awaited Disha.
After a period of tense driving, Aryan brought the car to a halt upon reaching Disha's house.
In her fearful contemplation of Aryan's words, Disha remained oblivious to the fact that they had arrived. Observing Disha lost in her thoughts, Aryan exited the car and approached her side, opening the car door for her.
Aryan gestured for Disha to step out of the car, his stern demeanor unchanged. Disha, still uneasy, reluctantly got out, and Aryan escorted her towards the entrance of her house.
Aryan's firm grip on Disha's hand sent a shiver down her spine as she reached for the doorknob. Startled, she looked up at Aryan, her eyes reflecting the fear that had settled within her.
Aryan, devoid of any emotion in his eyes, leaned towards Disha. In a low, ominous tone, he spoke words that sent a chill down her spine, "Tomorrow, we are meeting to discuss your conditions for this marriage. I hope you still remember that."
In the midst of emotional turmoil since the evening, Disha, overwhelmed and speechless, nodded in response, her inability to articulate words evident.
Without uttering a farewell, Aryan departed, leaving without a backward glance. He settled into the car and drifted away into the night.
As Aryan's car vanished from view, Disha, with trembling hands, unlocked the door and entered the house, securing it behind her.
Disha headed to the kitchen, retrieved a water bottle from the fridge, and began drinking it. However, her trembling hands caused water to spill, staining her clothes in the process.
In the quiet dimness of her parents' bedroom, Disha cautiously entered, carefully swinging the door open. She stood there for a moment, silently observing the serene sight of her parents in restful slumber. Closing the door with the same care, she retreated to her room, carrying the weight of the events of the night with her.
As Disha entered her room, a wave of exhaustion washed over her. The events of the evening had left her emotionally drained. She moved quietly, not wanting to disturb the stillness of her own sanctuary.
As Disha emerged from the shower, the cool droplets clinging to her skin, she wrapped herself in a towel and took a deep breath. The familiar scent of her room provided a small comfort, a fleeting reminder of the stability she longed for.
She decided to change into comfortable pajamas, shedding the weight of the day along with her damp clothes.
In the quiet solitude of her room, Disha lay on her bed, the weight of the day pressing on her shoulders. Tears, unbidden, traced a path down her cheeks as she grappled with the emotional storm inside. The room, once a refuge, felt like a confining space amplifying the conflict raging within.
Her mind echoed with the fear of the unknown. The prospect of choosing freedom seemed daunting, entangled with concerns for her parents, whose happiness she cherished above all. Yet, the alternative—marrying Aryan—loomed as a stark compromise, a loveless union that promised a life devoid of the warmth she craved.
As the tears continued to fall, Disha found herself caught in the crossfire of her own emotions, torn between the love she felt for her family and the yearning for a life sculpted by her own choices. The room held the echoes of silent struggles, a battleground where the fight for personal freedom collided with the responsibility she felt towards those she held dear.
Slowly her tiredness took over her and she fell asleep. The room fell silent, save for the soft rhythm of her breath, as she drifted into a realm untouched by the complexities of her reality.