05-07-2026, 10:48 PM
Chapter 135 – Return to Reality
Jay and Nikitha reached the station in the evening. The platform was crowded, but the space between them felt vast. The journey back had been quiet, filled with unspoken words and heavy hearts. It was hard for them to move on, yet they knew they had to.
As they stood near the exit, Jay reached his hand first.
“Take care,” he said softly. “Live your life for good.”
Their hands hung in the air for a long moment — a final, lingering touch. Then they split toward their separate paths.
Nikitha had been calling and informing Tharun of every detail — her moves, her thoughts, her feelings. She had become 100% transparent with him. Today, he was supposed to pick her up, but Nikitha had told him she needed to purchase something and would come straight to the apartment.
At 8 PM, when she arrived at the flat, she realised the door was locked from inside. She rang the bell, her heart light with anticipation. She wanted to hug Tharun, to show him her happiness — how she had finally wrapped up everything, how she had checked all the boxes that freed her of guilt.
But when the door opened, she saw a woman standing there.
Nikitha blinked, momentarily stunned.
The woman looked at her with sharp eyes.
“So you are Nikitha?”
“Yes, ma’am… you are…?”
“I’m Tharun’s mother.”
Before Nikitha could respond, a sharp slap landed across her face.
“How dare you?” the woman hissed. “You are married already and you are yet to get the divorce papers, but you are shamelessly living with my son?”
Tharun, who had heard the commotion, rushed out from inside.
“Maa, what are you doing?”
It was a stark contrast to what she had experienced in the village. There, she had been welcomed with warmth. Here, she was met with judgment. She didn’t blame Tharun’s mother — which mother would want her son to marry a woman who was still legally bound to another man?
A commotion erupted. Tharun tried to calm the situation.
“She is my wife,” he said firmly. “I have declared it. I cannot move from that position.”
But Tharun’s mother didn’t agree. She wanted Tharun to kick her out.
Tharun stood his ground.
“She came trusting me. I can’t let her out. If you don’t agree, you can leave to your husband’s house.”
Tharun’s mother, who could not tolerate the words, took her bag and moved toward the door.
Before leaving, she turned back with a final, cutting statement.
“Your marriage is fixed in three months. I don’t want to take her in as daughter-in-law. This is my final decision. Mithra is your love and she is your wife.”
She left the place, slamming the door behind her.
Tharun immediately pulled Nikitha into his arms and consoled her. She was shocked, her cheek still stinging from the slap. She didn’t blame Tharun’s mother, but the reality of society hit her hard once again. In the village, an old man didn’t like sharing maximum assets with daughters equally. Here, a mother didn’t want to understand her — a woman who was still in the process of divorce.
She didn’t blame anyone, but the weight of societal judgment pressed on her chest.
Tharun held her tighter, kissing the cheek that bore his mother’s handprint.
The night was heavy — completely opposite to her village days. But she knew she had returned to the life she had chosen. She had no regrets. She just had to fight for it.
2–3 Weeks Later
The scenarios quietly started to become normal.
Jay, Nikitha, and Tharun worked in the same company, but they maintained a strictly professional bond. No big confrontations. No public drama.
Tharun had paused pursuing his parents for marriage. Instead, Nikitha and Tharun started building a good rapport between them from the base.
In the middle of that, they explored each other physically like never before — passionate, frequent, and intense.
While everything was going well, two things happened out of expectation.
Jay and Nikitha reached the station in the evening. The platform was crowded, but the space between them felt vast. The journey back had been quiet, filled with unspoken words and heavy hearts. It was hard for them to move on, yet they knew they had to.
As they stood near the exit, Jay reached his hand first.
“Take care,” he said softly. “Live your life for good.”
Their hands hung in the air for a long moment — a final, lingering touch. Then they split toward their separate paths.
Nikitha had been calling and informing Tharun of every detail — her moves, her thoughts, her feelings. She had become 100% transparent with him. Today, he was supposed to pick her up, but Nikitha had told him she needed to purchase something and would come straight to the apartment.
At 8 PM, when she arrived at the flat, she realised the door was locked from inside. She rang the bell, her heart light with anticipation. She wanted to hug Tharun, to show him her happiness — how she had finally wrapped up everything, how she had checked all the boxes that freed her of guilt.
But when the door opened, she saw a woman standing there.
Nikitha blinked, momentarily stunned.
The woman looked at her with sharp eyes.
“So you are Nikitha?”
“Yes, ma’am… you are…?”
“I’m Tharun’s mother.”
Before Nikitha could respond, a sharp slap landed across her face.
“How dare you?” the woman hissed. “You are married already and you are yet to get the divorce papers, but you are shamelessly living with my son?”
Tharun, who had heard the commotion, rushed out from inside.
“Maa, what are you doing?”
It was a stark contrast to what she had experienced in the village. There, she had been welcomed with warmth. Here, she was met with judgment. She didn’t blame Tharun’s mother — which mother would want her son to marry a woman who was still legally bound to another man?
A commotion erupted. Tharun tried to calm the situation.
“She is my wife,” he said firmly. “I have declared it. I cannot move from that position.”
But Tharun’s mother didn’t agree. She wanted Tharun to kick her out.
Tharun stood his ground.
“She came trusting me. I can’t let her out. If you don’t agree, you can leave to your husband’s house.”
Tharun’s mother, who could not tolerate the words, took her bag and moved toward the door.
Before leaving, she turned back with a final, cutting statement.
“Your marriage is fixed in three months. I don’t want to take her in as daughter-in-law. This is my final decision. Mithra is your love and she is your wife.”
She left the place, slamming the door behind her.
Tharun immediately pulled Nikitha into his arms and consoled her. She was shocked, her cheek still stinging from the slap. She didn’t blame Tharun’s mother, but the reality of society hit her hard once again. In the village, an old man didn’t like sharing maximum assets with daughters equally. Here, a mother didn’t want to understand her — a woman who was still in the process of divorce.
She didn’t blame anyone, but the weight of societal judgment pressed on her chest.
Tharun held her tighter, kissing the cheek that bore his mother’s handprint.
The night was heavy — completely opposite to her village days. But she knew she had returned to the life she had chosen. She had no regrets. She just had to fight for it.
2–3 Weeks Later
The scenarios quietly started to become normal.
Jay, Nikitha, and Tharun worked in the same company, but they maintained a strictly professional bond. No big confrontations. No public drama.
Tharun had paused pursuing his parents for marriage. Instead, Nikitha and Tharun started building a good rapport between them from the base.
In the middle of that, they explored each other physically like never before — passionate, frequent, and intense.
While everything was going well, two things happened out of expectation.
- Mithra entered Bangalore.
- The company had finalized the winners who would win the UK/US trip.
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