Saanvi sat on the edge of the sofa, her hands clasped tightly together, trembling under Shourya's intense gaze. His eyes burned with disbelief and anger, his fists clenching at his sides.
"Saanvi," he asked, his voice low but piercing, "are you pregnant with him?"
Her heart raced, and she hesitated, fear gripping her. She avoided his eyes, tears welling up as she nodded slowly. "Yes," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Shourya's reaction was immediate and explosive. He grabbed the medical report and flung it across the room, the papers scattering like shards of his broken expectations. "You've lost your mind, Saanvi!" he shouted. "You're a child yourself, and now you're going to raise one? Do you even understand what this means?"
Saanvi flinched but steadied herself, meeting his furious gaze with trembling defiance. "I don't care" she said, her voice shaky but resolute. "I love Adithya, and I want him as my husband. He promised to marry me."
Shourya's jaw tightened, his protective instincts warring with the whirlwind of emotions swirling within him. "Promised?" he spat. "Words are easy, Saanvi. But this is your life. And what about your future? Your dreams? You need to think beyond this moment."
She shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "I have thought about it, bhaiyya," she cried. "And my future is with Adithya. I trust him."
Without another word, Shourya stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
As Shourya walked aimlessly through the dimly lit streets, his mind swirled with anger, fear, and memories. He thought of their childhood, of the promises he had made to himself and his father. Before he knew it, he was reliving the most painful day of his life.
He was six years old again, standing in his school uniform at the entrance of their home. A police officer knelt before him, her expression soft but laced with pity. "Your parents… there was an accident," she said gently. "Your mother didn't make it."
The words struck him like a thunderbolt. His legs gave way, and he fell to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably. His little sister, barely three, toddled toward him, confused and frightened. Shourya pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly as if his embrace could shield her from the harsh reality.
At the hospital, the cold, sterile air did little to comfort his grief-stricken heart. He was led into a dimly lit room where his father lay, barely recognizable beneath the bruises and tubes.
"Shourya," his father rasped, his voice weak but filled with urgency. "Come closer."
The boy hesitated, his small feet shuffling forward until he stood at his father's bedside.
"Promise me," his father said, his trembling hand reaching for Shourya's. "Promise me you'll take care of Saanvi. She's too young to understand, but you… you must protect her. Give her the life she deserves. Make sure she never feels like she lost her parents."
Tears streamed down Shourya's face as he nodded, gripping his father's hand tightly. "I promise, Papa," he sobbed. "I'll take care of her. Always."
A faint smile touched his father's lips before his hand went limp. The machines beeped ominously, and a nurse rushed in, but it was too late. His father was gone.
Shourya collapsed beside the bed, clutching his father's hand as a deep, unrelenting grief consumed him.
Back in the present, Shourya stumbled to a stop in front of his car, gripping the door for support. His heart raced as the weight of his father's dying wish clashed with the reality of Saanvi's situation.
"She's still my little sister," he murmured to himself. "She still needs me."
Hours later, Shourya returned home, his face unreadable as he entered the living room. Saanvi stood when she saw him, her tear-streaked face filled with fragile hope.
"Bhaiyya," she began softly, stepping closer. "I know this is a lot, but I trust Adithya. I trust you to understand."
Her words struck a chord deep within him. He thought of the promise he had made to their father, the love and faith Saanvi had placed in him over the years.
After a long silence, he sighed heavily, meeting her eyes. "If this is what you truly want, Saanvi," he said, his voice thick with emotion, "then I won't stand in your way."
Tears spilled down her cheeks as she hugged him tightly. "Thank you, bhaiyya," she whispered.
But even as Shourya held her, his mind raced with questions and fears. Would this decision protect her or expose her to more pain? Could he trust Adithya to keep his promise? And most of all—was this what their father would have wanted?