[Harry Jordan]

One always learns something new, for example, that one should not weigh everything that is said on golden scales and take it seriously.


-----------
Demeter

Unfortunately , yes there is a delay. And the reason is that I was planning a special chapter with Sonarika on the eve of Women's day. But I had to modify somethings in the story so that there was more to her character. And it has progressed very well until now , because we will see some unexplored backstory of Sonarika in this chapter and also go in depth on the equation between Sonarika and Meghna , including their history. Certain things about them will be explored which will be pivotal to Sonarika's future arc and eventually set up her storyline in the Goa setting.

The reason for no chapter Yesterday was because Saturday was my Dad's Birthday and Today I couldn't do women's day because of the World Cup Final!!!


But like every chapter,  I an assure you , it will be worth the wait. Next Saturday will be posting the Women's day special chapter on Sonarika. We will spend some time learning about Sonarika and her history. The Delhi episodes will be quiet a mix of drama and thrill as Sonarika reaches her crossroad in life where she will have to choose her transformation to evolve so she can survive the war coming to her!

[Harry Jordan]

This whole I missed the Saturday so its going to be next Saturday is troubling me, If you are ready post it why wait till Saturday? Is it some kind of auspicious day for Sonarika or Hemanth to screw Bollywood beauties lol

You earlier mentioned Chapter is ready now you are saying you are improvising it for Sonarika's arc, then why wait till Saturday?

~RCF

Actually I simply chose Saturday because that is the time readers are quiet comfortable with updates so that people read it comfortably. Many had sujjested weekends and I can understand why since that is a more comfortable timeline for them to enjoy the chapters. 

And yes , it was ready , but when I read it myself , it simply didn't work. I myself felt the chapter was bland with a lot of nothing happening. And it was bothering me how Sonarika's arc wasn't getting the uplift I wanted. So I wanted to explore a small but intriguing part of her past which when I added had to rework the conversation and alter the events that followed it to some extent. I intended to release it on the eve of Women's Day but sadly things didn't work out.

I will post the chapter once I am absolutely sure the quality isn't affected. Saturday is just a target I am trying to follow , maybe I'll post it sooner if I am satisfied with the final outcome.

[Harry Jordan]

Only few readers suggested it and I find it selfish. Most of the stories here get updated all over the week with no timeline esp for only weekends, when so many readers can read it on other stories why restrict the updates on this one to Saturday? There are many readers who will read late nights, or if they get bored on a less work day, it doesn't hurt to post it as soon as it is ready.  Up to you but I feel its unnecessary stalling of the update once complete. 

~RCF

Yeah you're right. I did this technique simply to motivate myself to work on my story so that I can post each chapter on regular intervals. I simply used Saturday as a target so that I don't fall behind and create unexpected delays. One thing I have noticed is that usually gaps between each updates is when readers feels less involved with the story. Which is why I assumed a Saturday target so that I can post one chapter every week. But you're right , I'll just post the chapter once my review of it is done and I am satisfied by the final outcome!

[Harry Jordan]

So folks,  as promised. Chapter 32 will be online in an hour. Compared to other chapters , this might be a little short. But it has some few surprises and reveals. And I have done a small tweak in the story with an introduction of a new character which is why the delay happened. This and the next chapter will follow Sonarika's perspective and go through the events she has been going through on her vacation in Delhi until she meets with Hemant in Mumbai at a later chapter. I will be taking an interesting approach to Hemant's backstory with this chapter as this chapter will reveal some cool aspects of Hemant's flashback before the birth of Michael King. Like I said in an old chapter , Hemant was always the blueprint for Michael King , so we will see a tease of that blueprint in the climax of this chapter. Saturday seems to be a good time for chapter posting so brace yourself for Chapter 33 in next saturday. 

For now , enjoy Chapter 32! 

[Harry Jordan]

                                                                                                               CHAPTER 32  

The iron gates of the old bungalow in Janakpuri creaked open with a familiar metallic groan, the same sound that had greeted Sonarika countless times during her childhood. The afternoon sun rested gently on the cream-colored walls of the house, warming the bougainvillea vines that climbed along the boundary. As the car rolled in, Sonarika felt an ache of nostalgia settle quietly in her chest. This place had always been her refuge — a world where problems once seemed simple and life had still felt whole.


Karan jumped out of the car before anyone could stop him. The seven-year-old ran across the driveway with an excitement that only children carried so effortlessly.

"Nanaji!" he shouted.

Jagjeet Sharma stepped out from the veranda, his broad frame still imposing despite the grey in his beard. The moment he saw the boy sprinting toward him, his stern businessman’s face melted into a grin. He bent down and scooped Karan into a tight embrace.

"Arre hero! Look at you" Jagjeet laughed, lifting him easily.

Behind him, Meenakshi Sharma hurried forward, wiping her hands on the end of her dupatta, her eyes already moist with happiness.

"My Karan has grown taller again" she said softly, cupping his face.

Sonarika stood by the car for a moment, watching the scene. The warmth of it filled her chest and yet pressed painfully against something fragile inside her. Her parents looked so happy — happy in a way that made the secret she carried feel heavier.

Anjali stepped beside her and nudged her shoulder lightly.

"You’re staring like a guest" the teenager whispered with a small smile.

"I know… it just feels the same as always" Sonarika exhaled slowly. 

They walked toward the house together. Meenakshi wrapped Sonarika in a long hug, the kind that only mothers could give — lingering, protective, wordless.

"You’ve become thin again" she scolded gently.

"Work" Sonarika replied with a practiced smile.

Anjali was pulled into the circle next, receiving kisses and affectionate teasing until she laughed despite herself. For a few brief minutes the house buzzed with laughter, with questions, with overlapping voices.

And for those few minutes, Sonarika almost believed everything was normal.

Inside the bungalow, the scent of sandalwood polish and cardamom tea drifted through the halls. Every room carried a memory. The framed family photographs along the staircase, the old piano she had abandoned during college, the courtyard where she and Anjali had played endless games as children.

Karan had already disappeared into the garden with Jagjeet, both of them arguing loudly about toy cars and engines.

"He will turn into a mechanic like you" Meenakshi laughed from the doorway.

"Not mechanic" Jagjeet corrected proudly from outside. 

"Automobile expert!"

Sonarika leaned against the window frame, watching them. Karan was showing his grandfather a tiny racing car, speaking with the seriousness of a businessman closing a deal. Jagjeet listened with full attention, nodding dramatically.

The sight filled her with warmth — and with grief. Once, she had imagined Hemant standing there beside her. Watching their son with quiet pride. That life had once been steady, balanced. Predictable in the best ways. Hemant had been calm where she was impulsive, thoughtful where she was restless. But somewhere along the road, she had grown curious about a different version of herself. A reckless one.

Vikram Bajaj had entered her life like a storm — exciting, daring, intoxicating. With him everything had felt unpredictable and thrilling, like living in a story where consequences didn’t exist. For a while she had convinced herself it was freedom. Now it only felt like ruin. Hemant was gone, not by fate but by her own actions. Vikram too had drifted out of her life, leaving behind nothing but the echo of mistakes. What had once felt thrilling now seemed hollow and childish. She had gambled stability for excitement. And lost both.

That evening the family gathered for dinner around the large wooden table that had stood in the house for decades. Jagjeet spoke enthusiastically about his automobile spare business expanding into new distribution lines. Meenakshi discussed neighbors and old family friends. Karan told dramatic stories about his institute. Anjali laughed easily, slipping back into the comfort of the house she had spent half her childhood visiting. Sonarika participated in the conversations, smiling and responding, careful to keep her voice light. No one at that table knew that her marriage was quietly collapsing.

They believed she and Hemant were simply 'expanding their earnings' 

They believed everything would eventually settle. She watched her parent's peaceful faces and knew she could not break that illusion yet. Later that night, after everyone had gone to sleep, Sonarika sat alone on the balcony outside her old bedroom. The Delhi air carried a cool breeze and the distant sound of traffic humming through the city.

Her phone vibrated softly.

It was a message from Neha, her therapist.

'How are you feeling today?'

Sonarika stared at the screen for a long moment before typing.

'Better. Being here helps'

And it did help, in a quiet way.

She had been speaking to Neha regularly through video calls. Those sessions had slowly forced her to confront the truth she had avoided — that healing would require facing her own mistakes without running from them.

Ragini too had been checking on her constantly, sometimes sending ridiculous memes just to make her laugh. Small anchors in a chaotic sea. Her parents were proud of her new job at Vatika Botanical Research in Goa. To them it was a fresh beginning, an exciting opportunity. In truth, it was also an escape. A place far away from the wreckage of her marriage. Across the garden lights, she could see Jagjeet locking the front gate for the night. Karan’s small bicycle lay near the steps. Inside the house, Anjali’s laughter drifted faintly from the guest room where she was watching something on her phone.

Life continued around her.

And yet Sonarika knew something within her had cracked like glass — a fracture that would always remain visible.

But for now, sitting in the quiet balcony of her childhood home, she allowed herself a fragile comfort. The past inside this house reminded her that she had once been someone simpler. Someone kinder. And perhaps, if she kept moving forward — through therapy, through honest reflection, through rebuilding her life piece by piece — she might not become that person again. But she might become someone wiser. Someone who finally understood the cost of her choices. And maybe, someday, she would learn how to forgive herself.


The next morning sunlight filtered gently through the neem tree that leaned over the backyard wall of the Sharma bungalow. The lawn behind the house had always been wide and open, mostly grass and a few old shrubs that Meenakshi maintained out of habit rather than passion. As a child, Sonarika had imagined it as a garden full of color, but life had moved too quickly for her to ever return to that dream.


Now, standing there with a notebook in hand, she studied the patch of earth like a quiet architect planning something meaningful. Working with plants had always been her calm place. With her upcoming position at Vatika Botanical Research in Goa, she had felt a renewed curiosity toward the craft she once loved deeply. The idea came to her the previous night—remodel the back lawn, even if it was just a small section. Not a professional project. Just something alive. Something growing.

A small nursery nearby in Janakpuri still operated where it had for decades. The place smelled of damp soil, fertilizer, and blooming marigolds the moment she walked through its gates. Sonarika wandered between rows of saplings with a basket hooked on her arm.

Tulsi.

Jasmine.

Bougainvillea.

A few medicinal herbs.

Her fingers brushed leaves like someone greeting old friends after a long absence. The nursery caretaker watched her with mild curiosity as she examined the soil quality of different saplings, occasionally making notes on her phone.

By the time she left, the car’s back seat was filled with small plants, seed packets, and gardening tools.

Driving back through the narrow residential lanes of Janakpuri, she slowed near a row of houses that looked vaguely familiar. As she turned the corner, she noticed a woman standing near a gate across the road.

For a moment, their eyes met.

The woman froze.

There was something unmistakably startled in her expression—like someone who had just seen a ghost. Her gaze lingered on Sonarika’s face for barely two seconds before she turned abruptly and walked inside the house without looking back.

Sonarika frowned slightly.

The woman looked incredibly familiar.

Yet the memory refused to surface.

She tried to replay the moment while parking the car inside her parents’ driveway, but the name simply refused to arrive. It was one of those strange mental gaps where recognition existed without identity.

Eventually she shrugged it off and began carrying the saplings into the backyard.

Her phone vibrated just as she placed the final pot near the grass.

It was a message.

From Neha.

'I’ll be in Delhi next week for a conference. Thought we could do a face-to-face session if you’re comfortable'

Sonarika felt a wave of relief wash over her.

The therapy sessions through video calls had helped, but something about the idea of speaking to Neha in person felt grounding. She typed back quickly.

'That would be really good'

She slipped the phone into her pocket and knelt down near the soil bed she had marked with chalk earlier. The earth was slightly dry, but rich. She began loosening it carefully with a small hand shovel.

Minutes passed quietly.

The repetitive rhythm of digging, arranging soil, and placing saplings began to calm her mind. For the first time in months, her thoughts were not tangled in regret or anxiety.

They were simply present.

"Look at you"

Meenakshi’s voice came from the veranda behind her.

Sonarika turned and saw her mother watching with a soft smile.

"So this is what my daughter does now" Meenakshi continued, stepping down into the grass.

Sonarika replied, brushing soil off her hands. 

"Practice, if I’m joining Vatika, I can’t go there like a complete amateur"

Meenakshi chuckled.

"You used to spend hours with plants when you were young. Remember the terrace garden you tried to build in class nine?"

Sonarika laughed softly.

"I killed half of them"

"Yes But the other half survived because you refused to give up" Meenakshi said, amused. 

Sonarika planted another sapling into the soil and pressed the earth around it gently.

"It feels good" she admitted. 

"Being back with plants"

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

The wind rustled the leaves of the neem tree overhead.

Then Sonarika remembered something.

"Ma… I saw someone while coming back from the nursery"

Meenakshi raised an eyebrow.

"Someone?"

"A woman. She looked really familiar… like I should know her. She went into one of the houses near the corner"

Meenakshi’s lips curved into a knowing smile.

"Oh"

Sonarika noticed the expression immediately.

"What?"

"That’s what happens when you stay away for so many years,” Meenakshi teased lightly. “You forget people’s faces"

Sonarika blinked in confusion.

"You mean I know her?"

Meenakshi folded her arms, clearly enjoying the moment.

"You didn’t recognize Reshma?"

The name landed like a small explosion in Sonarika’s chest.

For a moment she simply stared.

"Reshma?" she repeated quietly.

Meenakshi nodded.

"She moved back here about three years ago. Lives in that house now"

Sonarika slowly sat back on her heels, the soil-covered shovel resting loosely in her hand.

Reshma.

Her childhood friend. Her closest companion during secondary years before college took them in different directions. They had been inseparable once. Always together. Always laughing. So close that Meghna used to complain constantly about feeling like a third wheel around them. But the memory that surfaced in Sonarika’s mind now was not just friendship.

It was deeper. More complicated.

Back then they had been teenagers—curious, confused, discovering emotions they didn’t fully understand. In those quiet years of early adolescence, their closeness had blurred into something more intimate. Something secret. Reshma had been her first experience of affection beyond innocence. Her first chapter of intimacy.

A part of her life she had carefully sealed away in memory. And now, after all these years, the universe had placed her right across the street. Sonarika stared at the small garden she was building, but her mind was somewhere else entirely. It felt strangely symbolic.

After everything that had happened in her life… after the mistakes with Hemant, the chaos with Vikram, the slow painful process of therapy and self-reflection…

Now this. Another unfinished chapter returning. She exhaled slowly. Perhaps this wasn’t random. Perhaps the universe had its own way of bringing people back into your path when it was time to confront things left unresolved. Meenakshi gently placed a hand on her shoulder.

"You should visit her sometime" she said casually. 

Sonarika looked toward the distant corner house beyond the trees.

Reshma.

A name from a life that felt like another era. Maybe this meeting was inevitable. Maybe healing didn’t just mean fixing the present. Sometimes it meant making peace with the past too. And this time, Sonarika felt ready to face it.


Sonarika stood for a moment outside the modest cream-colored house at the corner of the lane. The gate was partly open, and she could see a small porch with potted plants lined neatly along the railing. The house looked warm and lived-in, very different from the quiet mystery it had seemed earlier that day.

She took a slow breath and rang the doorbell.

Footsteps approached from inside.

The door opened.

Reshma stood there, exactly as Sonarika remembered from a few hours earlier—eyes wide with surprise, her expression frozen in disbelief for a brief second.

For a moment neither of them spoke.

Then Sonarika smiled gently.

"I’m sorry, I really should have recognized you earlier" she said softly. 

Reshma blinked, as if waking from a trance. The shock slowly melted away and her lips curved into a hesitant but genuine smile.

"It’s been… what… fifteen years?" she said.

"Something like that" Sonarika replied.

Reshma stepped aside and opened the door wider.

"Come in"

The living room felt cozy and warm. A beige sofa set faced a wooden center table, and a television murmured quietly in the background. The walls were decorated with framed photographs, most of them family portraits.

Sonarika’s eyes paused on one frame in particular.

It showed Reshma standing beside a man with kind eyes and two smiling children—an older boy and a little girl.

"They’re beautiful" Sonarika said sincerely.

Reshma followed her gaze and smiled proudly.

"That’s my husband, Suresh" she said. 

"And the kids—Arjun and Poonam"

"Lovely names" Sonarika said.

Reshma sat down across from her.

"Suresh works at a government institution. Administrative department" she explained. 

"He’s usually busy, but he’ll be home later"

Sonarika leaned slightly forward to look closer at the photograph.

"Arjun must be… what… eight?"

"Nine" Reshma replied.

Sonarika chuckled softly.

"That means he’s about a year older than my son Karan"

Reshma’s eyebrows lifted.

"You have a son?"

"Yes" Sonarika said with a small smile.

For a while the conversation drifted naturally into old memories.

They spoke about college days, the endless practice sessions for cultural events, the excitement of annual functions.

"Do you remember how we used to dominate the dance competitions?" Reshma laughed.

Sonarika grinned.

"We were the cultural program"

"That’s true, if we weren’t performing, the audience would lose interest" 

Reshma said with mock pride. They both laughed. Reshma leaned back in her chair, eyes sparkling with nostalgia.

"And poor Ranvijay" she added suddenly. 

"He was so hopelessly smitten with you"

Sonarika raised an eyebrow.

"Oh God" she groaned. 

"Don’t remind me"

Reshma laughed again but then added casually—

"Honestly, I always felt bad for him. He never knew you and I were actually—"

She stopped abruptly.

The sentence hung unfinished in the air. The awkwardness arrived instantly. Reshma’s eyes widened slightly as she realized what she had almost revealed aloud. For a brief moment, silence filled the room. Sonarika broke it gently.

"It was a long time ago" she said calmly. 

"And clearly we both moved on"

Reshma studied her face carefully, trying to read her reaction. Sonarika gave a small, reassuring smile.

"Honestly" she continued, 

"Those silly teenage adventures… they were part of growing up. We were curious, confused… figuring ourselves out"

Reshma’s shoulders relaxed slightly.

"I guess that’s true" she said quietly.

Then after a small pause she admitted softly,

"I’m actually glad… that my first time experiencing something like that was with you"

Sonarika laughed lightly.

"Well technically" she said teasingly. 

"We didn’t really have a first time. There was no… you know"

Reshma burst into embarrassed laughter.

"That’s true" she admitted.

Her expression then shifted to curiosity.

"I was shocked when I heard you started dating Rocky after college"

Sonarika’s smile faded just slightly.

"That was… a dark chapter" she said honestly. 

"One I’d rather leave behind"

She paused for a moment before adding quietly,

"Honestly, if I think about it now… I’d rather consider our teenage phase as my first intimacy in this lifetime. It feels healthier than remembering Rocky"

Reshma nodded slowly, understanding the weight behind those words.

The conversation shifted again after that.

"So, tell me about your husband" Reshma asked gently, 

Sonarika hesitated for a split second. The truth sat painfully at the edge of her mind—the broken marriage, the distance, the uncertainty. But she chose not to open that wound here.

Not today.

"His name is Hemant Kumar...he used to work as a project manager at an IT firm called Quadron" 

She said calmly. Reshma’s eyes widened slightly.

"Wait… Hemant Kumar?"

Sonarika nodded.

"He left the company a few years ago. Now he runs his own company—YOD Industries"

Reshma leaned forward.

"I know that name! I’ve seen articles about it in business news"

Sonarika gave a modest smile.

"It’s growing faster than anyone expected"

"Wow...That’s impressive" Reshma said sincerely. 

The afternoon sunlight had begun to shift toward evening.

Sonarika glanced at the clock and slowly stood up.

"I should head back" she said.

Reshma walked her to the door. It felt strange and comforting at the same time—reconnecting after so many years, confronting a piece of the past they had both quietly buried.

"Come again" Reshma said warmly.

"I will" Sonarika replied.

They shared one last smile before Sonarika stepped out into the lane. As she walked back toward her parents’ house, the cool Delhi breeze brushed gently across her face. The conversation replayed softly in her mind.

Memories.

Mistakes.

Old emotions resurfacing and settling again. For the first time in a long while, she felt something close to peace. Her past wasn’t something she could erase. It was filled with impulsive choices, broken relationships, and painful consequences. But meeting Reshma had reminded her of something important. Mistakes didn’t have to define the future. They could become lessons instead. As the familiar gates of the Sharma bungalow appeared ahead, Sonarika felt lighter than she had that morning. She couldn’t undo what she had done. But she could rebuild herself. And this time, she intended to do better

                                                                                                                   (TO BE CONTD)

[Harry Jordan]

                                                                                                                  (CHAPTER CONTD)          

The next few days passed with an unfamiliar calm settling over Sonarika’s life.

The mornings in the Janakpuri bungalow began with sunlight pouring across the backyard lawn where she had started building her small garden. The soil there had begun to soften under her constant care, and neat rows of saplings now stood where there had once been plain grass. Basil, jasmine, hibiscus, and a handful of medicinal herbs were already taking root.

Working with the plants brought her a quiet satisfaction she hadn’t felt in years.

Sometimes she would kneel there with her hands in the soil for hours, gently loosening the earth around a root or adjusting the spacing between saplings. The scent of damp mud and leaves filled the air, grounding her thoughts. Not far away, chaos usually unfolded on the lawn. Anjali had taken it upon herself to teach Karan how to play volleyball. The idea had sounded simple at first. In reality it became a daily comedy of missed serves, exaggerated dives, and loud arguments about rules that neither of them fully understood.

"Anju didi, you cheated!"

"I didn’t cheat! That was a perfect serve!"

"That ball went outside!"

"You don’t even know where the line is!"

Sonarika often paused her gardening just to watch them. Karan would run wildly across the grass trying to hit the ball, while Anjali attempted to demonstrate techniques she herself had barely mastered. Every now and then the ball would fly straight into one of Sonarika’s plant pots.

"Careful!" she would shout.

"Sorry!" they would yell together before bursting into laughter.

Watching them filled her with warmth. Two innocent souls playing freely in the sunlight, completely unaware of the fragile cracks hidden beneath the surface of their family. They didn’t know that the world around them was quietly shifting. They didn’t know that her marriage was slowly dissolving. And part of her was grateful for that innocence. In the evenings she sometimes took Karan and Anjali to the nearby park. It had a walking path lined with tall trees and a small play area where children gathered every evening. Karan loved the place. He would run straight to the swings or chase other kids across the grass, his laughter echoing through the park.

Sonarika often sat on a bench nearby watching him. The joy on his face made everything else fade for a while. For those moments she was simply a mother watching her child grow. Nothing more complicated than that. One evening, as the sun dipped below the trees, her phone buzzed. It was Neha.

"I wanna go out....shall we get together for some night cap?" Neha asked over the call. 

Sonarika hesitated for a second before smiling.

"Why not?"

Since the place Neha suggested was close to the neighborhood, Sonarika left Karan at home with Anjali.

"Make sure he calls his Papa before sleeping" she told her sister while handing over her phone. 

Anjali nodded.

"Okay Didi"

With that reassurance, Sonarika left the house and met Neha outside a lively pub not far from the main market road. Inside, music pulsed through the dimly lit hall while colored lights swept across the dance floor. The atmosphere was vibrant, full of laughter and movement. It had been a long time since Sonarika had stepped into a place like this. At first she felt slightly out of place. But Neha pulled her onto the dance floor.

"Just to be clear....there won't be any therapy....only friend things!" Neha laughed.

They danced for a while, letting the music carry them. Later they sat at a high table with a couple of drinks, the conversation slowly drifting into more personal territory. At some point Sonarika mentioned her reunion with Reshma. Neha listened carefully. Then Sonarika revealed something she hadn’t told many people before.

"We were… intimate" she said calmly.

Neha’s eyebrows lifted in surprise.

"With another woman?"

Sonarika nodded.

"It was during our teenage years. Exploration more than anything"

Neha leaned back slightly, thinking.

"Then why didn’t you ever have those feelings toward Meghna?" she asked. 

"She was openly bisexual even back then"

Sonarika smiled faintly.

"I didn’t know that at the time. I only learned about Meghna’s bisexuality later… after I had started dating Rocky"

She took a small sip of her drink.

"And honestly, my thing with Reshma wasn’t about orientation. It was curiosity. We were teenagers discovering things about ourselves"

Neha nodded slowly.

"That makes sense"

They sat in silence for a moment before Neha spoke again.

"You really are healing" she said.

Sonarika gave a small smile.

"I feel that way too"

But Neha’s expression turned thoughtful.

"Still… you should also prepare yourself for something"

Sonarika frowned slightly.

"What?"

Neha looked at her carefully before answering.

"A future without Hemant"

The words felt unexpectedly heavy. Sonarika blinked.

"Why would you say that?"

Neha sighed quietly.

"Ragini mentioned something to me. There are rumors circulating in certain business circles"

"What rumors?"

Neha hesitated before saying the name.

"That Hemant has changed.....he has been getting very close with Pranitha Mehta"

Sonarika’s mind immediately recognized it.

Pranitha Mehta.

A powerful member of the Mehta family—the owners of RegalCorp, one of the largest corporate empires in the country. Years ago, when Hemant had worked at Quadron, he had been involved in managing the setup of Pranitha’s multi-speciality hospital project in Mumbai. She remembered that project well.

Now Neha continued.

"People are talking about how close Hemant has become with her recently. And that closeness has paved the way for him to welcome a different lifestyle"

"What kind of lifestyle?"

"You know....the lifestyle of hookups and flings....some close rumors is that Pranitha follows a very open lifestyle as she has hooked up with film stars....and she is apparently giving Hemant a taste of that pleasure!"

Sonarika stared quietly at the table.

"If that’s true....then Hemant will be a way different person than you knews in your time with him" 

Neha added carefully. The thought settled uncomfortably in Sonarika’s mind. It would make sense. Hemant is more than broken , he has been a betrayed man in their relationship. In a way her actions might've caused doubts in his character and manhood to the point he would stray to these kinds of flings.

Later that night, Sonarika walked home alone through the quiet neighborhood streets. Neha’s words echoed repeatedly in her thoughts. A future without Hemant. He may already be moving on. When she reached the bungalow, the house was silent. Anjali had fallen asleep on the couch with a blanket over her shoulders. Karan was curled up beside her, one arm around a pillow. Her parents’ bedroom lights were off. Sonarika quietly covered them with another blanket before heading to her room. A message notification blinked on her laptop screen. It was from Neha.

A news link.

Sonarika opened it slowly. The article headline flashed across the screen:

'YOD Industries in Strategic Partnership Talks with RegalCorp'

The article mentioned discussions between Hemant’s company and the Mehta corporate group regarding future expansion projects. Sonarika read the lines again and again. Her chest tightened. Because she understood something the article didn’t explicitly say. If YOD Industries and RegalCorp were aligning this closely…Hemant’s world was evolving into something far bigger than the life they had once shared. A world she might no longer belong to. The realization hit her quietly but deeply. Sitting alone in the dim light of her room, Sonarika closed the laptop and pressed her palms over her eyes.

For days she had felt hopeful, optimistic about rebuilding herself. But this news reopened a wound she thought she had begun to heal. The man she still loved might already be walking toward a completely different future. One that didn’t include her. Tears slowly slipped down her cheeks as she sat there in silence. She didn’t wake anyone. She didn’t make a sound. She simply allowed herself to cry quietly into the night, releasing the pain she could no longer hold back.

Because sometimes healing meant facing the hardest truth of all—that the person you love most might already be drifting beyond your reach.

Sonarika's consciousness swam upward through layers of warm, clinging sleep, not toward light, but toward a feeling. It was a low, throbbing pulse that seemed to originate from her core and radiate outwards, making every nerve ending hum. Her breaths were shallow, rapid puffs against her pillow. A soft, needy sound escaped her lips—her own moan, she realized distantly. What…?

Her hips gave a small, involuntary roll, pushing into a delicious, wet warmth. Oh. Sensation crystallized into understanding. That was a mouth. That was a tongue. There.

She forced her heavy eyelids open, the world a bleary, morning-gray blur. The duvet was pushed down to her waist. She was naked from the waist down. And there, between her splayed thighs, was the familiar, beloved shape of her husband’s head, his dark hair tousled from sleep. Hemant.

His face was buried in her, his broad shoulders shifting as he worked. A long, slow, luxurious lick from her entrance all the way up to her clit made her back arch off the mattress with a sharp gasp. The motion woke her fully, the grogginess burned away by pure, electric pleasure.

He felt her tense, her awakening. He pulled back just enough to glance up, his lips glistening with her arousal. His eyes, dark and intense, held a mix of hunger and a soft apology. 

"I am sorry" he murmured, his voice a husky rasp against her inner thigh. 

"And good morning"

The fight. Right. The vague memory of raised voices, a slamming door, the cold silence in bed last night surfaced and then dissolved, meaningless against the heat of his mouth. She couldn’t even remember what it was about. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except the aching emptiness he was so expertly filling.

She felt the lace of her panties—she’d fallen asleep in them—stretched and pushed aside, a frustrating barrier. With a urgency that surprised her, she hooked her thumbs into the waistband. She breathed, lifting her hips. He helped, pulling the flimsy garment down her legs and tossing it aside without breaking contact, his mouth finding her again immediately. This time, skin to skin.

Oh God. His tongue was flat and firm, painting slow, maddening circles around her clit before zeroing in with pinpoint precision. One of his hands came up to cradle her hip, his thumb digging into the soft flesh, holding her in place for his feast. The other hand slid beneath her, fingers splaying over the curve of her ass, pulling her more firmly onto his mouth.

"Aahhh, Hemant…" 

She moaned, her head falling back, fingers tangling in his hair. Not to guide, but to anchor herself. 

"You… you always find my spot so easily"

He groaned against her, the vibration shooting straight to her womb. He lifted his head for just a second, his breath hot on her soaked skin. 

"You are my woman" he stated, as if it were the simplest, most fundamental truth. 

"It is my only ambition" 

Then he dove back in, his tongue spearing into her this time, fucking her with it shallowly, mimicking the act she already craved. It was relentless, worshipful, needy. He was reading her body like a favorite book, each twitch, each gasp, each clench of her inner muscles guiding him. The coil in her lower belly wound tighter and tighter, a spring of pure pleasure threatening to snap. But she didn’t want it like this. Not this time.

With a force of will that shuddered through her, she pushed at his shoulders. 

"Stop. Hemant, stop"

He pulled away instantly, his face flushed, eyes questioning and dark with concern. 

"Did I hurt—?"

"No" she cut him off, her chest heaving. 

"I need you inside me. Now"

The look that crossed his face was pure, undiluted male satisfaction. He moved up her body, kissing her stomach, the valley between her breasts, then her lips, letting her taste herself on him. It was salty, musky, hers. He knelt between her legs, shoving his own underwear down just enough to free his cock. He was already so hard, the tip flushed and leaking. He kept his simple white tank top on.

He rubbed the broad head through her slick folds, gathering moisture, teasing her entrance. Sonarika bit her lip, her hips lifting, seeking. “Please.”

With one smooth, deep push, he filled her. A shared, guttural groan filled the space between them. He didn’t move immediately, just stayed buried to the hilt, letting her adjust, letting them both feel the perfect, stretching fullness. Then he began to move.

It wasn’t a hard, frantic pounding. It was a slow, deep, deliberate rhythm. In… and out… and in. Each stroke dragged against every sensitive nerve inside her. His eyes never left hers. That was what undid her more than anything. The unbroken eye contact. In the dim morning light, she could see every fleck in his brown irises, see the dilation of his pupils, see the raw affection and heat there. Their breaths synced, puffing against each other’s faces. This wasn’t just sex; it was a conversation, a reconnection, a silent apology and acceptance spoken with hips and heartbeats.

A distant, thrill-seeking part of her usually craved the mindless, rough fucking that wiped her thoughts clean. But this… this was better. This built a different kind of fire, a deep, glowing ember that heated her from the inside out.

She realized he hadn’t tried to remove her shirt—a simple, faded cotton sleep tee. He loved watching her body, loved seeing her breasts bounce, loved tracing her abs. But his hands stayed on her hips, his focus entirely on her face, on the joining of their bodies.

"Ahh....ahhh....Why?" she whispered, her voice thick. 

"Ahh....You didn’t ask for the shirt....ahhhh"

He thrust deep and held it, grinding his pelvis against her clit. 

"This morning...uhh...uhhh" he panted. 

"uhh....uhhh....is for you. Not for me....mhmmm"

That was her Hemant. Her perfect, infuriating, thoughtful husband. She shook her head, emotion welling in her throat. She clenched around him, making him gasp. 

"Wrong....It’s for us"

Before he could argue, she wrapped her legs around his waist and rolled them. He followed her lead, a masterful dancer in this intimate waltz, until she was straddling him, his cock still seated deeply within her. The new angle made her see stars. Now she was in control.

She sat up, her hands going to the hem of her shirt. She pulled it off in one fluid motion, tossing it aside, letting the cool morning air kiss her skin. Her breasts, full and heavy, swayed with the motion. Hemant’s gaze dropped, his hands coming up to cradle their weight, his thumbs brushing over her nipples. A low, appreciative groan rumbled from his chest.

"My god, Sona" he breathed, mesmerized. 

"You are… a vision"

She began to move, riding him with slow, rising intensity. She watched his face, watched his eyes darken as he watched her body—the jiggle of her breasts, the taut shift of her stomach muscles, the glide of her body on his. She felt powerful, desired, loved.

His rhythm began to falter, his thrusts becoming more urgent from beneath her. 

"Sona… I’m getting close" he warned, his hands tightening on her hips.

"So am I" she moaned, the tension coiling impossibly tight. 

"Together. We cum together"

He nodded, his control snapping. He drove up into her, hard and deep, once, twice, three times.

"Now  Sona now!!!!"

It was all the permission she needed. The world shattered into blinding white light. Her climax ripped through her, a seismic wave of pleasure that clenched her entire body. Her inner muscles spasmed around his cock in rapid, pulsing waves, milking him. With a choked shout, he followed her over, his own release surging hot and deep inside her as he bucked beneath her. She collapsed forward, sealing her mouth over his, kissing him fiercely, swallowing his groans and muffling her own keening cries, a desperate, silent pact to keep their ecstasy from waking their son in the far room.

They floated down together, spent and tangled, their hearts hammering a frantic, synchronized beat against each other’s chests. As the last aftershocks trembled through her, Sonarika let out a breathless giggle against his sweat-damp neck.

"You always know how to end an argument" she whispered, 

"I just know what makes my wife happy" 

He turned his head, kissing her temple, his arms tightening around her. She nestled into him, breathing in his scent—sleep, sex, and him—a perfect, contented stillness settling in her soul. This was her life. This was her love.

The stillness shattered.

The scent changed. It was no longer Hemant and sex and their bedroom. It was stale air, and a faint hint of her mother’s rose talcum powder.

Sonarika’s eyes flew open.

Not to her bedroom ceiling, but to the familiar, endured , pale painted bedroom in her maternal home in Janakpuri. The gray light was the same, but it was cold, empty. The weight on her body was just a heavy, solitary duvet. The warmth between her legs was a phantom echo, already fading into a dull, aching emptiness.

Her hand flew to her mouth, still feeling the ghost of his kiss, the taste of him—of them—still on her tongue. A full-body tremor wracked her. A dream. It was all a dream.

The vividness of it—the feel of his stubble against her inner thighs, the exact pressure of his hands, the depth of his gaze—flooded back with cruel, exquisite clarity. A moment shared between husband and wife. A moment that no longer existed.

Now, the only thing missing was him. Hemant was a memory. A ghost in her sheets. The perfect, intimate love he'd just shown her in the dream was a haunting of what she had destroyed.

She lay perfectly still in the vast, empty bed, the silence of the lonely room pressing in on her, a tangible, suffocating thing. The pleasure of the dream curdled into a profound, hollow loss that settled deep in her bones. She had traded this… this everything… for nothing.

The memory faded as Sonarika opened her eyes. The ceiling of her childhood bedroom replaced the past. Reality settled over her slowly. Those moments with Hemant were no longer part of her present. They had become echoes—beautiful, painful echoes that now returned mostly in dreams. She closed her eyes briefly, letting the sadness pass through her rather than fighting it. After a while she got up and walked to the backyard.

The small garden she had been building was beginning to take shape. The saplings stood in neat rows, their leaves catching the morning sun. Kneeling beside them, Sonarika began loosening the soil around a jasmine plant.

Gardening had become her quiet therapy.

The rhythm of tending plants allowed her mind to settle. But even today, the lingering emotion from the dream tugged gently at her thoughts. She pressed the soil firmly around the roots, exhaling slowly.Just then, her phone rang.

The name on the screen made her freeze.

Vikram.

For a few seconds she stared at it before answering.

"Hello?"

"Sonarika"

His voice sounded different from what she remembered. Softer. Tired.

"What do you want, Vikram?" she said calmly. 

"You know there’s no point chasing me after everything"

"I’m not chasing you" he replied quietly. 

"I need your help"

That made her pause. He explained that he was in Delhi for official work and asked if they could meet briefly. Reluctantly, Sonarika agreed. They met at a quiet restaurant later that afternoon. When Vikram walked in, he looked much the same as before—wearing a simple cream-colored shirt and black slacks, his posture confident, his presence naturally commanding attention. Once, that presence had drawn Sonarika toward him like gravity.

Even now, there were brief moments when she felt that familiar pull. But the thought of Hemant rose immediately afterward, like a silent reminder of the consequences of that attraction. Today, however, something about Vikram felt different. He looked… worn down. The usual spark in his eyes seemed dim. After they ordered coffee, he spoke slowly.

"Maybe I’m also getting punished" he said.

Sonarika frowned slightly.

"What do you mean?"

He rubbed his forehead before answering.

"My sister… Anjana"

The name immediately brought back a memory. Sonarika had met her once years ago in Jabalpur. Anjana had been cheerful, warm, welcoming.

"What about her?" Sonarika asked quietly.

Vikram looked down at the table.

"Her husband Ritesh… died last week"

Sonarika felt the shock ripple through her.

"A car crash" he added.

For a moment she couldn’t speak.

She remembered Anjana’s smiling face, the way she had spoken about her family with pride.

"She must be devastated" Sonarika whispered.

Vikram nodded slowly.

"The funeral happened last week. I couldn’t go"

"Why?"

He sighed deeply.

"Because Ritesh wasn’t just my brother-in-law. He was like a real brother to me"

His voice wavered slightly.

"And now I don’t know how to face them. I don’t know how to face the house without him there"

Sonarika studied him carefully.

This wasn’t the confident Vikram she had known.

This was a man struggling with grief.

"I want to go" he said quietly. 

"But I don’t have the strength to do it alone"

He looked directly at her.

"I need you to come with me"

Sonarika blinked.

"What?"

"It’s not what you think" he added quickly. 

"This isn’t about us. There’s nothing romantic about it"

He leaned forward slightly.

"You’re the only person I trust enough to ask. I just need someone beside me so I don’t fall apart in front of them"

The sincerity in his voice surprised her. For several seconds she remained silent, weighing the situation. Her first instinct had been to refuse. After everything that had happened between them, reopening any connection felt dangerous. But the thought of Anjana changed something. She remembered the kindness that woman had shown her years ago. If Anjana had lost her husband so suddenly, the pain she must be facing would be unimaginable.

"When?" Sonarika finally asked.

"Tomorrow" Vikram said. 

"I’ll drive. We’ll go early and return before sunset. I promise I’ll drop you home the same day"

She studied his face one more time. This wasn’t manipulation. It was grief. Finally she nodded.

"Alright"

The relief on Vikram’s face was immediate.

"Thank you" he said quietly.

As they left the restaurant later, Sonarika walked toward her car with a thoughtful expression. Her life had become complicated in ways she had never imagined. Yet in that moment she realized something simple. People were still turning to her in moments of need. Despite her mistakes, despite the broken pieces of her past, someone still believed she could be a source of strength. And perhaps helping someone through their grief was also part of her own healing. Tomorrow would be difficult. But she felt certain about one thing. Sometimes the right path forward wasn’t about escaping the past. It was about showing up for others when they needed you most.

                                                                                                          (TO BE CONTD)

[Harry Jordan]

                                                                                                                      (CHAPTER CONTD)           

The next morning arrived with a pale winter light stretching across the rooftops of Janakpuri. Sonarika stood in front of the mirror in her childhood bedroom, adjusting the folds of the grey salwar kameez she had chosen for the day. It was simple, modest—appropriate for the purpose of the visit. Today was not a social call. It was a visit to a house in mourning. Before leaving, she knelt beside Karan who was finishing his breakfast at the dining table.

"I’ll be back by evening" she told him gently.

"Where are you going, Mama?" he asked.

"To visit someone who needs support"

Karan nodded with the simple understanding of a child. Anjali leaned against the doorway, arms crossed with a teasing smile.

"Don’t worry, I’ll make sure he behaves"

Sonarika smiled faintly.

"Just control him on his playtime"

Outside, the sound of a car engine hummed softly near the gate. A sleek black Mercedes‑Benz S‑Class stood waiting in the driveway. Vikram stepped out from the rear door as she approached. He wore a dark suit with a crisp white shirt underneath, his usual confident posture slightly subdued today.

"Thank you for coming" he said quietly.

She nodded.

"Let’s go"

He instructed the driver to head toward Gurgaon, and the car moved smoothly through the late-morning Delhi traffic. For most of the drive neither of them spoke much. The city gradually shifted from the crowded lanes of West Delhi into the broader highways leading toward the corporate skyline of Gurgaon.

The atmosphere inside the car remained quiet.

Vikram finally broke the silence.

"I appreciate this more than you know"

Sonarika looked out the window before answering.

"This is about Anjana. Not us"

He nodded in agreement.

"That’s exactly how I see it too"

When they arrived at the Bajaj family bungalow in Gurgaon, the mood was immediately somber. Several cars were parked outside. The main gate stood open, and a few relatives and acquaintances lingered quietly near the entrance. Inside the house, the air carried the faint scent of incense. In the main hall a large framed photograph of Ritesh stood on a table, dbangd with a white cloth and adorned with marigold garlands. A small oil lamp burned beneath it, its flame flickering gently. The room was filled with subdued voices and respectful silence. As Vikram and Sonarika stepped inside together, two people approached them from across the hall.

Pawan and Sriti.

Vikram’s younger siblings had flown in from London for the funeral rites. Pawan gave his brother a brief embrace, the kind that conveyed both grief and support. Sriti turned toward Sonarika, recognition flashing across her face.

"Sonarika didi?" she said softly.

Sonarika nodded. Sriti offered a gentle smile.

"I’ve wanted to meet you properly for a long time" she admitted. 

"Just… not under circumstances like this"

"I understand" Sonarika replied quietly.

Despite the sadness surrounding them, Sriti’s warmth felt genuine. They spoke briefly before moving further into the house. Soon they encountered Vikram’s parents. Prakash Bajaj stood near the staircase speaking to a few relatives, while Neelam Bajaj sat nearby with composed grace despite the sorrow around her. When Neelam saw Sonarika, her expression softened.

"So you are Sonarika" she said warmly.

Sonarika greeted her respectfully.

"I’ve heard about you" Neelam continued gently. 

"I had hoped we would meet someday… though I wish it had been in happier circumstances"

Prakash Bajaj stepped forward and offered a polite handshake.

"It is good to finally meet you" he said. 

"Vikram speaks highly of you"

Sonarika maintained a calm and cordial demeanor.

"I’m sorry we meet like this" she said.

Prakash nodded solemnly.

"Life rarely asks our permission for such moments"

Before moving away, he added politely,

"You should visit us in our place when things are calmer"

Sonarika offered a respectful smile.

"I would be honored"

Eventually she reached the quiet sitting room where Anjana was resting. The sight of her immediately tightened Sonarika’s chest. Anjana looked almost unrecognizable from the cheerful woman Sonarika remembered from Jabalpur. Her eyes were swollen from days of crying, her face pale and exhausted. When she saw Sonarika enter the room, something inside her seemed to break. She stood up abruptly and rushed forward, wrapping her arms around Sonarika in a desperate embrace.

"I can’t believe he’s gone" Anjana sobbed.

Her voice trembled with raw grief.

"I feel so alone"

Sonarika held her gently, letting her cry without interruption.

"He was everything" Anjana continued between tears. 

"How do I live in this big house without him?"

Sonarika didn’t try to offer complicated answers. Instead she spoke softly.

"You’re not alone"

Anjana shook her head weakly.

"I feel like I am"

Sonarika placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Look around you" she said gently. 

"Your family is here. Vikram, your parents, your siblings… they’re all here because they love you"

Anjana leaned against her, crying quietly. For the next hour Sonarika remained beside her, listening more than speaking. Sometimes the greatest comfort was simply being present. Throughout the day she also spoke with other members of the family, offering quiet words of support, helping manage visitors, and ensuring Anjana wasn’t left alone too long. Even Vikram seemed steadier now. Watching Sonarika calmly comforting his sister and parents, he appeared grateful in a way that didn’t require words.

The entire house carried the heavy weight of loss. Yet within that grief, small moments of connection formed—family members sharing memories of Ritesh, recalling his kindness, his laughter, the way he had held everyone together. By late afternoon the atmosphere had softened slightly. The pain remained, but it was now shared rather than carried alone. And in the middle of that grieving household, Sonarika realized something quietly powerful. Despite all the mistakes she had made in her own life, she still had the ability to bring comfort to others. And sometimes that simple act of standing beside someone in their darkest moment could mean more than anything else.


After spending most of the afternoon inside the somber bungalow, Vikram suggested they step out for a while. The house had become heavy with grief, every room filled with quiet whispers and mournful faces. He felt that both his siblings needed a break from the suffocating atmosphere.

"Let’s get some air" Vikram said gently to Pawan and Sriti. 

"We’ll grab lunch outside"

They agreed without hesitation. Soon the four of them were seated at a quiet restaurant not far from the Bajaj residence in Gurgaon. The outdoor seating area overlooked a row of trees swaying lightly in the afternoon breeze. For the first time that day, the air felt slightly lighter. At first the conversation was slow and cautious. Everyone still carried the weight of Ritesh’s passing. Sriti stirred her drink absentmindedly.

"We always imagined the next time we met like this would be a happy family lunch" 

She said quietly. 

"Not… this"

Pawan nodded.

"Yeah. I thought we’d be celebrating something. Missed how we celebrated as a family in grandeour"

Vikram leaned back slightly, trying to soften the mood.

"Life rarely follows our schedules" he said gently.

He then turned toward his younger brother.

"So… how are the studies going?"

Pawan straightened slightly, grateful for the change in topic.

"My business management program is going well" he replied. 

"I actually got really good grades in my last exams"

"Good" Vikram said with a proud nod.

Sriti quickly added her own update.

"My engineering program is going well too"

She smiled faintly.

"Much better than medical college ever did"

Vikram chuckled.

"That’s because you were never meant to study medicine"

Sriti rolled her eyes playfully.

"Tell that to Dad"

Vikram glanced at Sonarika and explained,

"Our father insisted she study medicine. Remember his toxic days I told you? He couldn’t accept that his daughter wanting to be an engineer"

Sriti leaned forward slightly.

"If Vicky Bhai hadn’t stepped in, I’d still be miserable in a medical college right now"

Vikram shrugged.

"I just convinced Dad to let her follow what she actually loved"

Sonarika watched the interaction quietly before speaking.

"You say that casually, but you’re basically the driving force of BajajCorp now" she said.

Vikram smiled faintly.

"Not exactly"

Then he added something that surprised her.

"If I’ve learned anything about balancing family and responsibility… it’s partly because of you"

Sonarika blinked.

"What?"

Vikram spoke calmly.

"I watched how you handled your work, your family, your responsibilities. That balance stayed with me"

Sriti nodded immediately.

"That’s true"

Sonarika looked confused. Sriti smiled warmly at her.

"You may not realize it, but Vicky Bhai changed a lot after meeting you"

Pawan chuckled.

"Before that he barely called us"

Sriti continued.

"But after you came into his life, he started checking on us regularly. Visiting more. Acting… human"

Sonarika felt a strange discomfort rising in her chest.

"You’re overthinking this" she said softly.

Sriti shook her head.

"No, I’m not"

Then she added something unexpected.

"Vikram told us everything"

Sonarika looked sharply at Vikram.

"Everything?" she repeated.

Sriti answered gently.

"About you. About your marriage. About what happened"

She raised her hand slightly.

"And no, I’m not judging you"

Her tone remained calm.

"But I prefer to see the good in people. And the truth is… Vicky Bhai became a better man after meeting you"

She paused before adding honestly,

"And yes, maybe it’s selfish… but I can’t ignore the chemistry you two clearly share"

The words hung in the air. Sonarika felt a wave of discomfort. Her mind refused to accept that interpretation. Because whenever she thought about Vikram, the image of Hemant inevitably surfaced. And with it came the crushing reminder of what she had destroyed. The lunch eventually ended and they drove back to the bungalow. Later in the evening Vikram initiated his promise to drop Sonarika off at her home in Janakpuri.

As the car rode away towards Delhi, he spoke quietly.

"Thank you for coming today"

She nodded.

"Your family needed support"

Then she looked at him seriously.

"Why did you tell your siblings everything?"

Vikram leaned back in his seat.

"Because I wanted to strengthen my bond with them. No secrets"

He gave a small shrug.

"They said what they said because they care about me"

Sonarika frowned.

"Do you think the same way?"

Vikram looked out the windshield before answering.

"What I think doesn’t really matter"

He glanced at her.

"I know you won’t accept me"

Then his tone softened.

"But you don’t have to punish yourself forever either"

Sonarika shook her head slowly.

"You didn’t marry Hemant. I did"

Her voice carried quiet conviction.

"As far as life goes… I’m the betrayer in that story"

Vikram sighed.

"I understand why you feel that way"

Then he added,

"But you still have a future ahead of you"

He paused before continuing.

"After the divorce… Hemant will move on. And you’ll be left alone carrying all that guilt"

His eyes met hers.

"So why not face it together?"

Sonarika gave a faint, sad smile.

"You call that grieving together" she said softly. 

"But what you actually want is still me"

Vikram didn’t respond immediately. Sonarika continued.

"I had a perfect man in Hemant… and I still cheated on him with you"

Her voice grew harsher toward herself.

"What stops me from doing the same thing again if I chose you someday?"

She shook her head.

"My character is a mess. My standards are lower than a prostitute"

"Don’t say that—" Vikram began.

She stopped him immediately.

"No. Don’t defend me"

Her expression remained firm.

"I deserve the guilt. I deserve the consequences"

For a moment neither of them spoke. Then Vikram suddenly changed the subject.

"There’s an Arijit Singh Concert happening this weekend"

Sonarika looked confused.

"What?"

"I booked a private gallery for it" he said casually.

"Why would you do that?"

Vikram smiled faintly.

"Because I needed Pawan and Sriti to have some sort of reprieve from the tense environment here...plus this was booked months ago with a different intention....it was supposed to be a surprise double date"

He explained.

"Mouni and Sagar planned it. It was meant for you and me"

Sonarika looked away.

"But I changed the plan" he added.

"Now it’s just a family event...one where we can enjoy music and spend some quality time with our respective families....no inentions.....no secret romance..."

He leaned slightly forward.

"You bring your family. I’ll bring mine"

"Why?" she asked.

"Because everyone needs a break" Vikram replied quietly.

He looked thoughtful for a moment.

"Ritesh wasn’t just my brother-in-law. He mentored me when I first stepped into BajajCorp"

His voice carried genuine respect.

"He was Dad’s most trusted man. Always protecting the company’s reputation"

Vikram continued.

"He was also the one who helped Dad slowly change his views about women in the family"

He exhaled slowly.

"After my older brother Shekhar died… Ritesh was the one who held the family together"

The loss clearly weighed heavily on him.

"Sometimes I feel like all this is punishment" Vikram said quietly. 

"For my role in what happened between you and Hemant"

The car stopped outside the Sharma bungalow. Sonarika reached for the door handle. Before she stepped out, Vikram spoke once more.

"Come to the concert"

She looked back at him.

"It’s not for us" he said.

"It’s for our families...."

He gave a tired but sincere smile.

"A few hours where we can forget our mistakes…...and just breathe"

Sonarika stood silently for a moment, considering his words. Then she stepped out of the car and walked toward the house. Behind her, Vikram’s car slowly pulled away into the evening traffic. And as she walked inside, his final words echoed quietly in her mind. Maybe healing sometimes needed moments where guilt was allowed to rest.

                                                                                                                    (TO BE CONTD)

[Harry Jordan]

                                                                                                                      (CHAPTER CONTD)        

The next morning arrived with the quiet calm Sonarika had begun to cherish in the Janakpuri bungalow. Dew clung to the leaves in the small garden she had built in the backyard, the sunlight slowly warming the soil as she knelt beside the jasmine saplings. She was trimming a small branch when her phone buzzed in her pocket. It was a message from Ragini.

'Guess what? I’m coming to the concert'

Sonarika smiled and quickly replied.

'That’s great!'

But another message followed immediately.

'And guess who else is attending… Mrs. Sreelekha Naik'

Sonarika laughed out loud when she read the name. Sreelekha Naik was her new but very scary and strict boss. Sonarika typed back teasingly.

'Ms. Naik doesn’t look like someone who enjoys concerts'

A few seconds later Ragini replied.

'Should I tell her you said that?'

Sonarika immediately responded.

'Please don’t!'

Ragini sent a laughing emoji before typing again.

'Also… I’m not booking a hotel. I’m staying at your place'

Sonarika grinned at the phone.

'You’re always welcome'

She slipped the phone back into her pocket and walked toward the front lawn to share the news with her father. But when she stepped outside, she noticed something unusual. Jagjeet Sharma sat alone on a lawn chair near the veranda, staring quietly at the garden in front of him. His usually energetic presence looked subdued today.

Concern crept into her voice.

"Papa… what’s wrong?"

Jagjeet looked up slowly.

"Oh… nothing" he said softly. 

"Just thinking"

She walked closer.

"You look sad"

He sighed.

"Samhita’s memorial is coming very soon"

The name settled heavily between them. Sonarika’s younger sister. Gone far too early or in other words taken from them in Nainital by someone evil they are unaware of. Even after all these years, the wound remained tender. Sonarika sat beside him quietly.

"I miss her too" she said.

Jagjeet nodded slowly.

"She would have been… what… twenty eight now?"

"Twenty-nine" Sonarika corrected gently.

They sat in silence for a moment, remembering the cheerful girl whose life had ended far too suddenly. But Jagjeet’s expression suggested something else weighed on his mind.

"That’s not the only thing troubling me" he admitted after a while.

Sonarika looked at him curiously.

"What else?"

Jagjeet leaned back in the chair.

"Soon I’ll be receiving a letter… one that was never meant to reach me"

"A letter?"

He nodded.

"From an old friend"

He spoke the name slowly.

"Manush Rustom. We were childhood friends" Jagjeet explained. 

"Lost contact for years and then reconnected later in life"

Sonarika listened carefully as he continued.

"This was about a year before your head injury. Manush called me with a proposal"

"A proposal?"

"For marriage" Jagjeet said.

He smiled faintly at the memory.

"He wanted to unite our friendship through family"

Sonarika raised an eyebrow.

"You mean…?"

"He wanted you to marry someone"

Jagjeet paused before revealing the name.

"His adopted son, Michael. According to Manush, Michael had entered his life years earlier under unusual circumstances. He had initially been sent as a covert observer connected to the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA). But things had changed over time"

"Michael became more than that" Jagjeet said. 

"Michael confessed his intentions and pledged allegiance to Manush and his business and cause. Manush trusted him deeply. He managed his London businesses and acted as both strategist and protector. Manush had described him as loyal, intelligent, and fiercely protective of those he cared about. He had more than words to describe Michael , saying the gods send him to fullfill his wish for a boy"

"The letter he sent me was supposed to explain everything about Michael" Jagjeet continued. 

"Because apparently ‘Michael’ wasn’t even his real name. He was actually an Indian origin man"

But the story had taken an unexpected turn.

"Before the letter arrived, Manush called again. He told me to ignore it" Jagjeet said quietly. 

"Why?"

"Because Michael had fallen in love with his daughter. Ashnoor Rustom. And they were pretty serious about each other. And Manush had decided to make him his son-in-law instead"

Sonarika nodded slowly.

"That makes sense"

Jagjeet exhaled heavily.

"But the letter had already been posted. He said it might reach me anyway"

For a moment his voice grew heavier.

"Then came the news"

His eyes darkened with the memory.

"The entire family was murdered at their home in Azerbaijan"

Sonarika felt a chill run through her.

"That’s horrible"

Jagjeet nodded.

"That’s why I was so shaken when your accident happened later that year. I was still processing the shock of losing Manush and his family's gruesome murder"

He rubbed his forehead tiredly.

"And now… that lost letter is finally being delivered after all these years"

The timing made the grief heavier.

"Samhita’s memorial… and the return of a letter from a friend who is gone!"

Sonarika placed her hand gently over his.

"Bad times come and go, Papa" she said softly.

He looked at her.

"What matters is how we move forward"

She squeezed his hand lightly.

"We remember the people we lost… but we keep living in a way that would make them proud"

Jagjeet’s expression softened.

"You’ve grown stronger" he said quietly.

"Life forced me to" Sonarika replied with a faint smile.

For a few minutes they sat there together in the quiet garden. A father and daughter sharing grief that stretched across years—memories of a lost child, a lost friend, and the complicated paths life had taken since then. The morning breeze rustled the leaves of the small garden Sonarika had planted. And in that quiet moment, the two of them found a little comfort simply in remembering together.

The following morning felt heavier than usual in the Sharma bungalow. The sky above Janakpuri was pale and quiet, the kind of morning where the city seemed to wake slowly. Sonarika found her father sitting in the same lawn chair again, staring at the small garden she had built.

She walked toward him with a gentle smile.

"Papa" she said softly. 

"We can’t keep living inside our losses"

Jagjeet looked at her.

"What do you mean?"

Sonarika sat beside him.

"What’s gone is gone. Samhita… Rustom uncle… all the people we’ve lost" 

She paused before continuing. 

"But life still has good things waiting for us"

She spoke about her own life, carefully choosing what to say.

"There was a time I thought my life was completely lost" she admitted. 

"Then Hemant entered it"

She left out the truth of the present—the separation, the cheating, the looming divorce. Her father was already carrying too much grief. Adding another shock felt cruel. But Jagjeet didn’t smile. Instead, he shook his head slowly.

"You may think that" he said quietly. 

"But I still believe you made a mistake marrying Hemant"

Sonarika turned toward him in surprise.

"What?"

Jagjeet’s expression was serious.

"Because Hemant hasn’t been honest with you"

The words landed unexpectedly.

"What do you mean?" Sonarika asked.

Jagjeet took a deep breath.

"You remember Reshma’s husband, Suresh?"

"Of course"

"His job as a government employee is only a cover" Jagjeet explained.

Sonarika frowned.

"He actually works for Research and Analysis Wing. R&AW"

The revelation stunned her.

"He’s part of India’s defense intelligence network" Jagjeet continued. 

"When I reconnected with him recently, I asked for a small favor"

"What favor?"

"I wanted him to check something about Hemant’s past"

Sonarika felt her heart tighten slightly.

"You know Hemant always told us he served in the army" Jagjeet said. 

"He claimed he was stationed in the Drass sector during his service"

He spoke the location carefully.

Drass.

"Suresh ran a preliminary verification" Jagjeet continued. 

"And according to the records he checked…"

He paused.

"There was no officer named Hemant Kumar stationed there"

Sonarika stared at him.

For a moment she couldn’t process the sentence.

"Are you saying… Hemant was never a soldier?"

Jagjeet raised a hand.

"I don’t know that yet. This was only the initial check"

"Suresh is still working on the full investigation" he added. 

"He promised to give the complete information tomorrow"

Sonarika felt a strange mixture of confusion and disbelief. Everything she knew about Hemant—his past, his discipline, his stories of army life—suddenly felt uncertain. Jagjeet looked at her carefully.

"When Suresh gives the final report tomorrow, I want you to come with me"

"To Reshma’s house?" she asked quietly.

He nodded.

"I want you to hear the truth for yourself"

Later that afternoon, Ragini arrived in Delhi. Sonarika hugged her tightly at the gate of the bungalow. Ragini had always been her emotional anchor through the last year of turmoil.

"Finally!" Ragini laughed. 

"I thought you’d forgotten me after moving into this nostalgia palace"

But as they walked inside, Ragini noticed something unusual. Sonarika’s expression looked distracted. By evening they sat together in Sonarika’s room, the door slightly ajar while distant laughter from the living room echoed faintly. Ragini leaned back against the bed.

“Okay,” she said. “What’s wrong?”

Sonarika sighed.

"You can read me too easily"

"Of course I can"

After a moment of hesitation, Sonarika told her everything. About the conversation with Jagjeet. About the suspicious records regarding Hemant’s military service. Ragini’s reaction was immediate.

"What?"

She sat upright.

"You mean Hemant might have lied about being in the army?"

"That’s what the preliminary check suggests" Sonarika replied quietly.

Ragini looked deeply unsettled.

"I always thought Hemant was the most honest person in your life"

"Me too" Sonarika said.

The thought shook her more than she wanted to admit. For years she had blamed herself entirely for the destruction of her marriage. But if Hemant had hidden something this significant…What else might have been hidden? Ragini crossed her arms thoughtfully.

"If this is true… it changes a lot"

Sonarika shook her head.

"No. I don’t want to jump to conclusions"

Her voice was firm despite the uncertainty in her mind.

"I know Hemant. Something about this doesn’t make sense"

Ragini studied her face.

"You still trust him"

"Yes"

Sonarika looked down at her hands.

"I may have betrayed him… but I never believed he was capable of living a lie"

Ragini exhaled slowly.

"Well, tomorrow we’ll find out"

She placed a reassuring hand on Sonarika’s shoulder.

"You’re not going alone"

Sonarika looked up.

"I’ll come with you when you meet Suresh and Reshma" Ragini said. 

"If there’s a truth hiding somewhere in Hemant’s past, we’ll uncover it together"

Outside the window, the evening sky darkened over Janakpuri. Inside the room, Sonarika sat quietly with a storm of thoughts forming in her mind. For months she had believed the biggest mistake in her life was betraying Hemant. But now a new question had appeared. What if the man she loved had also been hiding secrets all along? And if that was true…How much of her life had been built on things she never truly understood?

                                                                                                                         (TO BE CONTD)

[Harry Jordan]

                                                                                                                                    (CHAPTER CONTD)         

The next morning carried a strange heaviness for Sonarika. She stood in front of the mirror tying the ends of her dupatta, but her hands moved slower than usual. Her mind kept circling the same thought. What if Papa was right? Behind her, Ragini leaned against the doorway watching quietly. Ragini could see the worry clearly written across Sonarika’s face.


"Hey" she said gently. 

"Breathe"

Sonarika looked at her reflection.

"What if everything I believed about him was a lie?"

Ragini walked closer and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"No matter what the truth is, you’ll deal with it. You’ve survived far worse this year" 

She said calmly. She gave her a small smile.

"You just need to be strong enough to hear it"

The drive to Reshma’s house felt longer than usual. Every meter felt heavier than the last. When they finally arrived, the atmosphere inside the house was warm and lively. Reshma greeted them at the door with her usual cheerful energy.

"Sonarika!" she said happily, hugging her.

Two children ran across the living room. Arjun and Poonam. Sonarika had brought Karan along so the kids could play together. Karan quickly joined them, the three disappearing toward the back room with the loud energy only children possessed. Sonarika then introduced Ragini.

"Reshma, this is Ragini"

The two women greeted each other warmly.After a few minutes, a man stepped into the room. His appearance was simple—plain shirt, composed posture—but there was something unmistakably firm about him.

Suresh.

He greeted Jagjeet respectfully.

"Namaste, Uncle"

Jagjeet Sharma nodded and gestured toward the living room. Everyone sat down. Jagjeet, Sonarika, and Ragini on one side. Suresh and Reshma opposite them. The air grew serious.Jagjeet spoke first.

"Tell me something good" he said quietly. 

"Tell me I’m wrong"

Suresh didn’t respond immediately. Instead, his expression hardened slightly.

"Before I say anything" he said calmly. 

"Everyone here needs to understand something"

He looked around the room carefully.

"What I’m about to reveal cannot be disclosed outside this room"

He paused.

"Not to anyone"

Sonarika’s heart started pounding. Ragini shifted slightly in her seat. Suresh finally spoke.

"Your husband didn’t lie about everything"

Sonarika held her breath.

"But yes" he continued. 

"What he told you about his posting in Drass was a lie"

The room fell silent. Suresh leaned forward.

"Hemant was never stationed in Drass"

Sonarika’s heartbeat quickened.

"He wasn’t a regular soldier either"

Jagjeet frowned.

"Then what was he?"

Suresh’s next sentence stunned everyone.

"Hemant was a Garud Commando"



The words hung in the air like thunder. Sonarika blinked in disbelief. Suresh continued.

"He belonged to one of the primary batches of the Garud commandos. The unit itself had been formed to bring India’s combat capabilities closer to elite modern forces like the United States Marine Corps"

"Hemant was handpicked during recruitment" Suresh explained.

"His academic scores were exceptional. But what really caught attention was his combat capability"

He flipped open a thin file he had brought.

"In college final years, he had already built a reputation as a gunsmith"

Ragini looked confused.

"A what?"

"Someone who is an expert in Gun building by hand. Who knows its features and work structure and can develop one in the field"

Sonarika said.

"Precisely" Suresh said with a surprised look at Sonarika who explained it in her way quiet well.

"A weapons specialist" Suresh clarified.

"Someone capable of customizing and modifying handheld firearms with remarkable precision. His training reports were extraordinary. Hemant excelled in close combat, guerrilla warfare, survival tactics, and battlefield strategy. Which was why he wasn’t placed in a regular infantry unit. He was recruited directly into the Garud training pipeline"

Suresh continued calmly.

"In just a span of a year, Hemant was involved in more than ten operations involving covert missions across several regions"

He listed them slowly.

"Oman. Nepal. Pakistan. Turkmenistan. Kazakhstan. Russia.There had also been intercontinental operations. Hemant’s unit participated in a United Nations peacekeeping mission in Democratic Republic of the Congo"

The room was completely silent now.

"He had an exceptional combat record" Suresh added. 

"Numerous neutralized terrorists and pirate operatives"

He looked directly at Sonarika.

"If I had to compare him to a fictional character…"

He gave a faint smile.

"He’s basically India’s John Rambo"

Jagjeet leaned forward.

"If all this is true, why lie to his own family?" he said, 

Suresh nodded.

"That part is actually simple. Operators like Hemant had to maintain strict cover identities. The people he eliminated were not ordinary criminals" 

Suresh said quietly.

"Many belonged to organized terror networks. If his identity became public, retaliation could easily target his family. So his records were deliberately falsified" 

Suresh explained.

"Some official databases still list him as posted in Drass as a protective cover. In reality, Hemant had been stationed at Nal Air Force Station. The base supported Garud operations related to airfield protection and special missions" 

"That explains the lie" Jagjeet nodded slowly.

But another question remained.

"What about his retirement?"

Suresh looked serious again.

"That was the nest lie. Hemant didn’t seek retirement because he saw a fellow soldier die"

Sonarika’s eyes widened.

"He was forced to retire because he broke military orders"

He explained the incident carefully.

"During one operation, a squadmate had been captured by Lashkar terror outfit across the border. Command had ordered the squad to stand down. Hemant ignored the order. He crossed the India–Pakistan border alone.He infiltrated the terrorist launchpad, eliminated the entire cell, and rescued his squadmate. The feat was extraordinary. But it was also a violation of military protocol. Morally he did a right thing" 

Suresh said. 

"But disobeying a direct command is still a punishable offense"

His record showed something remarkable though.

"Hemant was the tactical leader of his squad. And unlike many special units operating in high-risk zones—His squad had zero martyrs. Every soldier under his command had returned alive from missions"

"So he lied… but to protect us" Jagjeet leaned back slowly.

"Yes" Suresh replied.

"And frankly, his file is fascinating"

He closed the folder.

"What I’ve found so far is only the surface. There’s more history in there"

Ragini suddenly exhaled loudly.

"Oh my God" she said.

"I already admired the guy"

She laughed nervously.

"Now I’m a fan"

The tension in the room finally softened a little. Jagjeet looked relieved too. But Sonarika didn’t smile. Her mind was racing. If Hemant had truly been such a fearless warrior…A man capable of crossing borders alone…A leader who protected every soldier under him…

Then another question began forming in her mind.

Why did he change? Why did a man like that choose to live quietly as an ordinary employee at Quadron? Why did he tolerate humiliation from someone like Sandeep Vardhaan in the office? Why would someone with that level of power and skill bury his past so completely? For the first time, Sonarika realized something unsettling.

That she was not the only partner with secrets in their relationship. One thing was certain , she was now intrigued. And she intends to find out the truth about her husband!

                                                                                                               END OF CHAPTER 32

[Harry Jordan]

I have a particular fondness for this character named Hemant, whose personality will unfold even further in the present and in the context of his relationship with Sonarika...

More at a later date.


----------
Demeter

Its like past chapters have stated , Hemant has always been Michael King's blueprint.

Now , his arc is not exactly "Patriotic" but there will be elements to show the limitations of a soldier. Plus there are two different aspects that needs to meet. According to Jagjeet , Michael King was a "CIA" asset , while Hemant was an ex-Indian Army Soldier as part of the Garud Force. They are two distinct points that kind of makes them two different people. But what aligns them is another important adventure in the story in the future!

[Harry Jordan]

[Harry Jordan]

Hey Harry, when you dropping chapter 33? TODAY or gonna take some time?

It might take a bit more time as Chapter 33 will be a bit longer. The reason for this is SPOILER ALERT BELOW



We will be finally experiencing the backstory of Hemant from his GARUD days. And through this backstory we will see the first phase of the Flashback Tragically Short Love Story of Hemant and a certain woman we have already met in the chapters before. The story will showcase some of the early rivalry and the initial setup point for London and Michael King. And we will also see the unique pairing and how their relationship blossomed until it met it unexpected roadblock in the story. Another interesting aspect is it will be Sonarika who will be just like us readers learning this history through a certain someone. Which is why Chapter 33 will take time as it will be longer and complete the full arc of Sonarika in Delhi until she returns to Mumbai.

[Harry Jordan]

Hey everyone , I know a lot of you were looking forward for chapter 33. And honestly the delay was simply because I had a hard time structuring it well. However , the good chunk of its work is done , and I am looking forward to reveal it to all of you on coming Saturday Night. 

And honestly my work schedule was affected because of Daredevil Born Again and Invincible LOL!

I can proudly say that Chapter 33 is probably a very long chapter because this chapter will feature a good chunk of Sonarika's story along with a portion of Hemant's backstory way before Michael King. And the way the narration is done , I feel everyone will love it. This chapter will have Love , Sex , Sensuality , Lust , Addiction , Action , Mayhem , Warfare etc. There is an interesting character I introduced last chapter that will play a major role in Sonarika's life. The whole reason for her existence is to pivot her arc to a path of redemption and start her own "Revenge" arc soon!!! 

So watch out for Saturday Night as the man behind the Legend that shook the Underworld will be revealed in its partiality with an uncertain future!

[Harry Jordan]

Really excited. just waiting for CHAPTER 33 to be posted tonight.

Just one request, please don’t postpone this one like previous one;)

Believe me , its not my intention. Its that I don't get enough time lately to work comfortably on the story. Which is why the delays. But you can definitely be confident that I won't mess with the QUALITY of the story. That is a given dedication!

[Harry Jordan]

But are we getting an Update or not ? if not Then When ?     

Its coming very soon , I am currently correcting some of the spelling and grammatic errors. That tail end of the chapter had some spell errors. I usually use AI to correct those but that too has been behaving very erratically. However its almost done , it will be coming in few hours. I will be posting a simple message when I start uploading it.

[Harry Jordan]

You know that saying in Hindi.

"SABRUH KA PHAL MEETHA HOTA HAIN"

Chapter 33 coming online in Half Hour!

[Harry Jordan]

                                                                                                          CHAPTER 33

The revelation about Hemant stayed with Sonarika the entire day like a quiet storm she couldn’t escape. It wasn’t his past that shook her. It was the fact that he had hidden it from her. A man she had loved so deeply… a man she had once believed she knew completely… had lived an entire life she was never allowed to see. That thought lingered. By evening, the family decided to step out to a nearby city garden. The air was lighter there—children playing, couples walking, the soft hum of a peaceful evening. For a while, Sonarika allowed herself to breathe. Karan ran ahead laughing, dragging Anjali along toward a small play area. Anjali followed, half-laughing, half-complaining as usual. Sonarika smiled watching them. For a brief moment, life felt simple again. Until a familiar voice broke that illusion.


"Hey"

She turned. And froze. Vikram stood there. Her heartbeat spiked instantly. What is he doing here? Her parents were right there. They didn’t know. They couldn’t know. Before she could react, Karan ran toward him.

"Dance Uncle!"

Vikram laughed warmly and bent slightly.

"Hey little handsome!" He ruffled Karan’s hair.

"You’ve gotten taller" Karan grinned.

Sonarika quickly stepped in, trying to steady the situation.

"Papa… this is Vikram"

Jagjeet Sharma looked at him carefully—and recognition flashed almost instantly.

"Vikram Bajaj?"

Sonarika’s breath caught. Jagjeet continued.

"CEO of BajajCorp?" Vikram nodded politely.

"I’m surprised you recognize me, sir" Jagjeet gave a small smile.

"I’ve had a dealership interaction through one of your associates here in Delhi"

Vikram played along smoothly.

"I’m glad we finally have a proper introduction then"

The conversation stayed formal, safe. But Sonarika could feel the tension beneath her skin. After a few minutes, she managed to step aside with him.

"What are you doing here?" Her voice dropped instantly.

"I needed to talk to you" Vikram said calmly.

"Not here..Are you crazy?" she snapped softly. 

He raised his hands slightly.

"Okay. Then meet me at the same restaurant as last time"

She hesitated. This was dangerous. But refusing would only create more questions.

"Fine, now leave" she said quietly. 

Vikram nodded. He turned back to the group, made a polite excuse, and walked away. By night, the city lights reflected softly across the restaurant windows. Vikram was already there when Sonarika arrived. This time, she wasn’t dressed in traditional wear. A simple t-shirt and jeans. Effortless. Real. Vikram noticed immediately.

"You look different" he said.

"It just means I’m reconnecting with myself" She sat down across him.

"I like it" He smiled faintly.

She didn’t respond to that.

"Why did you call me here?"

Vikram leaned back slightly.

"My parents… what they said earlier about you visiting our ancestral mansion—don’t take it seriously"

Sonarika frowned.

"Do they know anything about me?"

He shook his head.

"They don’t know about your marriage"

A pause.

"They don’t know about Karan either"

That hit harder than expected.

"You hid that?" she asked.

"I did" Vikram didn’t deny it.

"Why?"

He looked at her honestly.

"Because at one point… I wanted you in my life. And I knew the truth would complicate that"

Sonarika stared at him.

"And now?"

Vikram’s voice softened.

"Now… you’ve changed"

He paused.

"And I don’t want to repeat the same mistake"

She didn’t fully understand.

"I want to know you, not chase you. Not manipulate situations" he clarified. 

"That realization came from watching you rebuild yourself"

Sonarika leaned back slightly, absorbing that.

"At least you admit there were flaws" she said.

He smiled faintly.

"Because there were"

She studied him.

"You still have feelings for me"

"I do" Vikram didn’t look away.

Silence.

"But I won’t act on them, Not like before" he added. 

Her thoughts drifted again. Hemant. His lies. His hidden life. And now Vikram… choosing restraint. Before she could say anything, Vikram spoke again.

"You don’t look okay"

"I’m fine" She stiffened slightly.

"No, You’re not " he said gently. 

"Something’s bothering you" He leaned forward.

For a moment, she almost told him the truth. About Hemant. About the Garud Forces. About the lies. But Suresh’s warning echoed in her mind.

'This cannot leave the room'

So she made a decision. If Hemant could live behind a cover…So could she.

"He lied to me" she said quietly.

Vikram frowned.

"About what?"

She took a breath.

"He was never in the army"

The lie left her lips, and it felt heavier than she expected.

"He has a… questionable past"

Vikram went silent. Sonarika watched him carefully. She expected it now. Expected him to seize this. To twist it. To turn Hemant into the villain. To pull her closer. But he didn’t. Instead, he spoke slowly.

"Then he probably had a reason"

Sonarika blinked.

"What?"

Vikram shrugged lightly.

"I’ve been studying his company growth" He continued thoughtfully.

"YOD Industries didn’t rise overnight by accident"

"That kind of scale… that kind of execution… it comes from experience"

He looked at her.

"If he hid something, it wasn’t random"

Sonarika stared at him, surprised.

"You’re not going to say anything against him?"

Vikram shook his head.

"I understand him"

That answer unsettled her in a completely different way.

"Whatever his past is, he had his reasons to keep it hidden" Vikram added.

Sonarika looked down, processing that. Maybe…Maybe the truth wasn’t as simple as betrayal. Maybe it never was. She stood up slowly.

"Not everything stays hidden forever"

"True"  Vikram nodded.

They exchanged a quiet goodbye. And as Sonarika walked away into the night, her thoughts felt heavier—but clearer. For the first time, she wasn’t just questioning Hemant’s lies. She was questioning why they existed.

And somewhere deep inside—She wasn’t ready to believe the worst about him. Not yet.


The next morning, the garden no longer felt like a place of peace for Sonarika. She still worked the soil, still adjusted the saplings, still watered each plant with care—but her mind wasn’t present anymore. Every thought circled back to one thing.

Hemant.

Not his strength. Not his love. But his silence. Her phone buzzed, breaking the loop. A message from Sreelekha Naik’s office. Her boss would be arriving in Delhi for the weekend—along with a colleague—to attend the Arijit Singh Concert. For a moment, Sonarika smiled. This should have excited her. A new job. New people. A new beginning. But the feeling faded quickly. Because one question refused to leave her—Was there really a part of life that a husband should hide from his wife… forever? Later that morning, she and Ragini headed to a nearby shopping center. Bright lights. Loud music. Rows of clothes. A normal day. Or at least, it looked like one. They walked through racks of dresses, occasionally holding one up, commenting, rejecting—but the conversation inevitably drifted. Back to him.

"I admire him more now" Ragini said, casually flipping through a rack.

Sonarika stopped.

"Admire?" she asked.

Ragini nodded.

"After everything we heard yesterday… he’s not just a good man. He’s… extraordinary"

Sonarika’s expression hardened slightly.

"I’m not impressed"

Ragini looked at her.

"I’m upset that he hid an entire life from me" Sonarika clarified. 

“He had reasons,” Ragini replied gently.

Sonarika let out a quiet, almost bitter breath.

"That’s exactly what Vikram said"

Ragini froze. Slowly, she turned toward her.

"You met him… last night?"

Sonarika didn’t avoid it.

"Yes"

Ragini studied her carefully.

"Are you… having second thoughts about him?"

The question was direct. Sonarika shook her head immediately.

"No"

Her voice was firm.

"There’s no second opinion here"

She paused, her eyes dropping slightly.

"What happened with Vikram… should never have happened"

There was no defensiveness in her tone now. Only honesty.

"I gave in too easily, without even fighting it" she continued.

Ragini stayed silent.

"That wasn’t me" Sonarika added softly.

Her voice grew heavier.

"I can’t fully blame him either. I didn’t just ruin my marriage… I ruined his life too"

She exhaled slowly.

"That guilt… it doesn’t leave"

Ragini’s expression softened.

"You’re healing" she said.

Sonarika shook her head faintly.

"Healing doesn’t erase consequences"

She looked ahead, almost distant.

"Even if I move forward… I’ll still be someone who broke two people who loved her"

That truth sat heavily between them. After a moment, Ragini asked quietly—

"Are you thinking of a future without Hemant?"

Sonarika didn’t answer immediately. When she did, her voice was softer than before.

"It wasn’t what I wanted"

A pause.

"But things have changed"

She swallowed slightly.

"I don’t see that same family anymore"

Ragini didn’t interrupt.

“I’m scared,” Sonarika admitted.

"Of being alone… for the rest of my life"

That was the real fear. Not guilt. Not judgment. Loneliness.

"But maybe I deserve that" she added quietly.

Ragini frowned.

"Don’t say that"

But Sonarika continued.

"My desires have changed"

She picked up a dress absentmindedly, then put it back.

"I don’t want a ‘perfect man’ anymore"

A faint, almost ironic smile appeared.

"That idea… it ruined everything"

By evening, Sonarika found herself standing outside Reshma’s house again. This time, not as a visitor. But as someone seeking answers. Reshma welcomed her with warmth, as always.

"Sonarika, come in" she smiled. 

But Sonarika didn’t waste time.

"I need your help"

Reshma sensed the seriousness immediately.

"And Suresh’s" Sonarika added.

Reshma’s expression shifted slightly.

"What kind of help?"

Sonarika hesitated—but only for a moment.

"I want to know everything about Hemant"

Her voice was steady now.

"His complete history"

"And I need it… discreetly"

She swallowed.

"I’ll pay for it"

That was the moment Reshma’s expression changed. Not anger. But something close to hurt. Sonarika realized it instantly.

"I’m sorry" she said quickly.

"I didn’t mean it like that"

And then—She broke. The truth she had been carrying finally came out. Reshma went still. The silence deepened.

"I cheated on him. With Vikram. Our marriage is falling apart" Sonarika continued.

Her voice trembled now, but she didn’t stop.

"I blamed myself for everything… and I still do"

She took a breath.

"But now I find out… he hid his life from me too"

Tears welled in her eyes.

"I don’t even know what my reality was anymore"

Reshma moved closer and gently held her hands.

"Listen to me" she said softly.

"The moment a person accepts their mistakes… truly accepts them…that’s the first step toward becoming human again, you’re already on that path"

She smiled gently. Sonarika looked at her. Her voice was calm, reassuring.

"You deserve redemption. And you deserve the truth you’re searching for"

Sonarika’s eyes filled, but this time there was a hint of relief. Reshma continued.

"There’s someone you should meet"

She mentioned a name. Dhananjay Shankar.

"He’s a former soldier who was once part of Hemant's squad" she explained.

"He now works as a guest lecturer at a military institute in Karol Bagh"

Sonarika listened carefully.

"If you want to understand Hemant" Reshma said.

"You should hear his story from someone who saw that life firsthand"

Sonarika nodded slowly.

"Thank you"

As she turned to leave, Reshma added one last thing.

"Whatever happened between us in the past…"

A small, knowing smile.

"I still believe you deserve peace"

Sonarika paused for a second, then nodded. And as she stepped out into the evening, her mind felt clearer than it had in days. Not lighter.But clearer. For the first time, she wasn’t just reacting to revelations. She was choosing her next step. Tomorrow—She would go to Karol Bagh. And meet the man who might finally help her understand—Who Hemant really was.

The cab crawled through the restless arteries of Delhi, past the crowded lanes of Karol Bagh where honking horns and impatient drivers formed a language of their own. Sonarika sat still in the backseat, her fingers intertwined, her eyes unfocused as the city blurred past her window. The further they moved from the chaos, the quieter everything seemed to become, as though the world itself was preparing her for something she wasn’t ready to face. When the cab finally turned toward the National Defence College, a strange stillness settled inside her chest.

Stepping out, she was immediately struck by the sharp contrast. Order replaced chaos. Precision replaced noise. Men and women in uniform moved with purpose, their presence almost intimidating in its perfection. Sonarika adjusted her dupatta unconsciously, feeling like an outsider in a world built on discipline and secrets. Reshma’s voice echoed in her mind—“You need to meet him. He’s the only one who’ll tell you the truth.”

Dhananjay Shankar.

The name alone had been enough to disturb her sleep the night before. It had unraveled everything she thought she knew about Hemant. The man she had lived with—the quiet, patient, almost fragile man who avoided confrontation—had once been something entirely different. A Garud Force commando. Not just that, but a commander of covert operations. The story he had told her—the trembling confession about fear, about watching a fellow soldier die—now felt like a carefully crafted lie. And she had believed it without question.

Inside, she was guided into a modest staff room. The representative informed her politely that “Shankar sir” was taking a class and would arrive shortly. Ten minutes, he said. Sonarika nodded and sat down, her eyes wandering across the walls lined with framed photographs and commendations. Each image told a story of bravery, sacrifice, and a life lived on the edge of danger.

Her gaze stopped.

It was a simple photograph, almost easy to miss among the rest. A group of soldiers stood together, their expressions firm, their postures unyielding. And there—slightly to the right, not even at the center—stood Hemant. But it wasn’t the Hemant she knew. This version of him looked sharper, harder, his eyes carrying a weight she had never seen. Yet strangely, he also resembled the man he had become recently—the man who had rebuilt himself while running YOD Industries. The resemblance was uncanny, unsettling.

Her thoughts spiraled until a sudden, sharp sound broke her trance—a faint screech of wheels against the polished floor.

She turned.

A man approached her in a wheelchair, moving with controlled effort. His upper body was strong, almost imposing, but one leg was missing. Despite it, there was nothing diminished about his presence. His eyes were sharp, observant. He stopped in front of her and studied her face for a moment before speaking.

"You must be Sonarika Kumar"

His voice was calm, certain.

"And you are Mr. Dhananjay?" She blinked, slightly caught off guard, then nodded. 

"Just call me Dan" He smiled faintly. 

There was something disarming about his tone, though it didn’t quite put her at ease.

"Hemant might’ve told you about me" she said cautiously.

Dan shook his head. 

"I was invited to your wedding. Couldn’t make it. Medical commitments" 

He tapped lightly on the arm of his wheelchair, as if that explained everything. Then his expression shifted. 

"How is Hemant?"

"He’s… probably doing better for himself. He’s running his company now" Sonarika hesitated. 

"Probably?" Dan’s eyes narrowed slightly. 

The word hung between them, heavier than she had intended. Sonarika exhaled. 

"We’ve filed for a divorce"

For a brief moment, something like disappointment flickered across Dan’s face. Then, unexpectedly, he smirked. 

"Hemant’s luck with love has always been in the sewers"

The remark stung more than she expected. 

"What do you mean by that?"

Dan leaned back slightly, his gaze steady. 

"You’re not the first woman things he has failed with"

Sonarika straightened instantly. 

"He didn’t fail....I did" Her voice was firm now. 

"The divorce is because of me. I… committed adultery"

The words felt heavy, even now. Dan’s expression changed completely. The smirk vanished, replaced by something more somber. He let out a slow breath, as though absorbing the weight of her confession.

"I’m not here to explain myself" she continued quickly. 

"I came because I need to know who Hemant really is. Or was"

Dan studied her for a long moment, as if measuring her resolve. 

"That’s not a story I can tell in ten minutes. Not here"

"I can come again" she said immediately.

"Not here"

He shook his head. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small piece of paper and scribbled something on it before handing it to her. 

"This is a military quarters in New Delhi. Come there on Monday"

"I’ll be there" Sonarika took the paper, her fingers brushing against his. 

"Thank you" She stood up, gathering herself, ready to leave. 

As she turned, Dan’s voice stopped her.

"Did Hemant ever mention you about me"

"No. Never"

She frowned slightly. For the first time, Dan looked genuinely surprised. A faint, almost nostalgic smile touched his lips.

"Clear your schedule on Monday" he said quietly. 

"It’s going to take a whole day to tell you who Hemant Kumar really is"

And as Sonarika walked out of that room, the paper clutched tightly in her hand, she realized something unsettling—she wasn’t just about to learn the truth about her husband. She was about to meet a stranger she had once called her own.

                                                                                                                           (TO BE CONTD)

[Harry Jordan]

                                                                                                                      (CHAPTER CONTD)                      

The next day unfolded slower, quieter, as though Delhi itself had decided to give Sonarika a moment to breathe. At her maternal home in Janakpuri, she sat in the garden surrounded by bougainvillea and fading winter sunlight. The familiar space, once a refuge of childhood comfort, now felt distant—like something she could see but no longer fully belong to. Her thoughts drifted endlessly, circling back to the same questions. Hemant. Dan. The photograph. The truth waiting for her on Monday. She tried to ground herself in the present, but her mind refused to stay still.


Her phone rang, pulling her out of the haze.

It was a short call. Direct. Professional.

Mrs. Sreelekha Naik had arrived.

Sonarika changed quickly, forcing herself into composure, and left for the hotel. The drive felt shorter this time, though her thoughts were heavier. When she arrived, she paused briefly at the entrance, taking a breath before stepping inside, as if preparing to step into yet another version of her life.

Sreelekha greeted her with warmth that felt almost maternal. 

"There you are" she said, her voice carrying both authority and affection. 

"I was wondering when you’d come"

"I came as soon as I got your call, ma’am" Sonarika smiled faintly.

Sreelekha waved off the formality. Her eyes studied Sonarika for a moment. 

"So… are you looking forward to your new life at VATIKA?"

There was a pause.

"I am, though… I think I’m more anxious than excited" 

Sonarika replied, choosing her words carefully. 

"That’s good, anxiety means you understand the weight of what you’re stepping into" 

Sreelekha said with a small nod. 

"Let me introduce you to someone important"

She then gestured toward someone standing slightly behind her. 

Sonarika turned.

The woman before her stood tall, with sharp features that immediately marked her as someone of European descent. Her expression, however, was distant—almost withdrawn. There was a heaviness in her eyes, like she was carrying something invisible but immense.

"This is Katherine, she’ll be working with us on our new hybrid medicinal plant research project" 

Sreelekha said. 

"Nice to meet you" Katherine gave a brief nod. 

Her voice was polite, but there was no warmth in it.

"Nice to meet you too" Sonarika smiled gently. 

There was an awkward pause before Sreelekha stepped in again, her tone softening. 

"Katherine’s been through a lot" she said quietly. 

"I’ll tell you more another time. For now, I just want her to have a good time. A change of pace"

"I’m sure she’ll enjoy the music concert" Sonarika nodded with understanding. 

"You didn’t think I liked music, did you?" Sreelekha chuckled lightly. 

"I… didn’t know, honestly" Sonarika hesitated. 

"Well, I can’t afford to mellow out in front of everyone. Running a massive industry doesn’t leave much room for that" 

Sreelekha said with a hint of amusement, before Sonarika could respond, the sharp chime of the hotel doorbell cut through the room.

"That must be them" Sreelekha turned. 

The door opened. And the moment froze. Vikram walked in. Behind him was his sister, Anjana. For a split second, Sonarika forgot how to breathe.

"What are you doing here?" 

She asked, the shock evident in her voice before she could control it. Vikram met her gaze, his expression calm but unreadable. 

"Sreelekha Mam and my mother, Neelam, are old friends" he explained. 

"We’re here to set up a meeting between them"

Sonarika’s eyes flickered briefly toward Sreelekha, who simply nodded as confirmation.

Anjana stepped forward slightly. She looked different—frailer somehow. The grief of losing her husband, Ritesh, still lingered in her posture, in the way her shoulders carried an invisible weight.

"Sonarika, I need to speak with you. In private" Anjana said softly, 

"About what?" The request caught her off guard. 

"I’ll explain when we meet, when are you free?" Anjana replied. 

Sonarika hesitated, glancing briefly at Vikram before answering. 

"I’m free this evening"

Anjana nodded and handed her a small note. 

"Come here. It’s a private restaurant. It’ll just be us. No Vikram"

There was something reassuring in that last sentence. Something that eased the tension coiling in Sonarika’s chest.

"Alright" she said quietly.

As Anjana stepped back, the room seemed to regain its motion, but Sonarika felt strangely detached from it all. Conversations resumed, voices blended, but none of it truly reached her. Because her mind had already begun to spiral again. Hemant’s hidden past. Dan’s unfinished story. Vikram’s presence. Anjana’s request.

And somewhere beyond all of that—a future she could no longer clearly see. As she stepped away from the group, her fingers tightening slightly around the note Anjana had given her, Sonarika realized something unsettling. Her life was no longer a straight path. It was a maze. And with every step she took, she was only going deeper into it.

That evening, the city seemed softer, wrapped in a quiet hum as Sonarika stepped into the restaurant Anjana had mentioned. It was discreet, almost hidden from the outside world, with dim lighting and private booths that felt designed for conversations people didn’t want overheard. A hostess guided her silently, and as the curtain to the booth parted, she saw Anjana already seated, waiting.

"You came" Anjana looked up and greeted her with a warm, almost familiar smile.

"Of course" 

Sonarika replied, sliding into the seat across from her. For a moment, neither spoke, as if both were measuring the weight of what needed to be said.

"How are you doing?" Sonarika finally asked, her voice gentle.

Anjana exhaled softly, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass.  A faint smile appeared, touched with sadness. 

"I’m… getting along..Ritesh always liked me strong. So I suppose I have to stay that way"

There was something quietly resolute in her tone that made Sonarika nod. 

"He would be proud of you, even though I never met him" she said sincerely. 

Anjana’s smile deepened slightly, her gaze sharpening just a little. 

"He would’ve liked you too...Especially considering Vikram"

The words landed awkwardly. Sonarika shifted in her seat, discomfort creeping in. She didn’t respond, and the silence that followed made the tension obvious. Anjana noticed immediately.

"I’m sorry, That came out wrong" she said, her tone softening.

"No… it’s just—complicated" Sonarika shook her head lightly. 

"I know" Anjana said quietly. 

"And I understand your dilemma more than you think" 

She leaned forward slightly, her voice calm but firm. 

"But sooner or later, you’ll have to accept something, Sonarika"

Sonarika looked up.

"Hemant is not coming back"

The words were not harsh, but they were final. A flicker of pain crossed Sonarika’s face. 

"I know that, I just… I’m still trying to process it" 

She said, though her voice betrayed how difficult it was to say it aloud.

"I’m not here to justify what you did" Anjana continued gently. 

"But you can’t keep holding on to something that’s already gone. The family you were fighting for—it doesn’t exist anymore"

Sonarika lowered her gaze, her hands tightening slightly in her lap. Anjana let the silence sit before speaking again. 

"Hemant will be fine, he’s a different man now. He’ll move on. He’ll rebuild. Maybe even find someone new, someone who gives him what he needs"

There was no malice in her words—only a kind of practical certainty.

"But you…you’ll go back to Goa alone. And you’ll be left to figure out your life from whatever pieces remain" 

Anjana continued, her voice softening further,  Sonarika looked up again, something fragile in her expression.

"You don’t have to do that alone" Anjana added.

The implication was clear even before she said his name.

"Vikram plans to move to Goa" she explained. 

"He’s not interested in the Bajaj family’s main business. He wants something quieter. That old hotel—it means something to him. He wants to build his life there"

Sonarika’s breath caught slightly.

"You could be a part of that" Anjana said. 

"You could build something new… from what’s left"

The words lingered heavily between them.

"Doesn’t that make me the villain in his life?" 

Sonarika asked suddenly, her voice steady but laced with conflict. Anjana held her gaze. 

"Maybe. Right now, yes" She didn’t sugarcoat it. 

"But time changes things. Pain fades. People move on. When someone else enters his life, he won’t need to hold on to what he had with you anymore"

Sonarika didn’t respond immediately. Her thoughts felt tangled, pulling her in opposite directions.

"I can’t decide something like this right now" she admitted.

"I’m not asking you to" Anjana said softly. 

"I’m just asking you to see that your life isn’t over"

She paused, choosing her next words carefully.

"Maybe what happened between you and Vikram wasn’t just a mistake" she continued. 

"Maybe it meant something deeper. The universe doesn’t bring people together without a reason"

Sonarika frowned slightly, unsure whether to believe that or reject it entirely.

"He cares about you" Anjana said simply. 

"You matter to him. The only question is… do you want him to matter to you too?"

The simplicity of it made it harder, not easier. Anjana leaned back, her expression softening with something more personal now. 

"I didn’t get a lifetime with Ritesh" she said quietly. 

"Just a few years. But I lived those years fully. And now… those memories are what keep me standing"

Her eyes shimmered, but her voice didn’t break.

"Don’t waste what time gives you, Sonarika"

The conversation ended not with resolution, but with a quiet understanding that something had shifted. When they stepped out into the night, the air felt heavier, charged with everything left unsaid. They exchanged a brief goodnight, and then went their separate ways. But Sonarika didn’t feel like she was walking away. She felt like she was being pulled in multiple directions at once.

Hemant—his hidden past waiting to be revealed. Vikram—the possibility of a future built on something uncertain. And herself—caught somewhere in between, trying to understand what she truly wanted. As she walked under the dim streetlights, her thoughts spiraling into something deeper, more consuming, she realized the truth she had been avoiding. This was no longer about right or wrong. It was about choice. And whatever she chose next… would define the rest of her life.

The next day carried a different kind of energy—lighter on the surface, yet quietly heavy underneath. It was the penultimate night before the concert, and Ragini, with her usual enthusiasm, refused to let Sonarika stay wrapped in her thoughts. 

"We are going shopping" she had declared, almost dragging her out of the house. 

"And you are wearing something dazzling, no arguments"

The shopping center buzzed with life, filled with bright lights, chatter, and racks of shimmering fabric that seemed to promise escape, if only for a few hours. Ragini moved from one section to another with excitement, picking dresses, holding them against Sonarika, rejecting some instantly and admiring others with exaggerated expressions. Sonarika followed, smiling faintly, letting herself be carried by the moment even as her mind wandered elsewhere.

She found herself standing before a rack of dresses in muted silence, her fingers brushing lightly against different fabrics. That was when she paused at a blue dress. It was elegant, simple, yet striking in its own way. As she held it up, something stirred within her—a memory, soft but vivid.

Mumbai.

A few years ago.

She could almost see it clearly. Hemant standing beside her in a store, holding up a similar blue dress with a hopeful look in his eyes. 

"This would look nice on you" he had said, his voice quiet but certain.

She had barely looked at it.

"It’s not really my style" she had replied casually, already turning away. 

It hadn’t been harsh—just indifferent. But she remembered the way his expression had shifted ever so slightly, the flicker of disappointment he had tried to hide. And then, as always, he had adjusted. 

"Okay… what do you like?" he had asked, genuinely wanting to see her happy.

She had shown him a rose-colored dress instead, brighter, more expressive. And Hemant had smiled instantly. 

"You’ll look beautiful in that" he had said, without hesitation.

She had laughed, light and carefree, choosing that dress in the end.

Back in the present, Sonarika lowered the blue dress slightly, her fingers tightening around the fabric. The memory lingered longer than she expected.

She moved on, trying to shake it off, but her steps led her to another rack. This time, her hand stopped at a red dress. It was bold, striking, with a certain daring edge to it—something that demanded attention. And just like that, another memory surfaced. This one was louder. Brighter. Messier.

She was in a high-end store, Vikram beside her, his presence magnetic in a way that had once felt irresistible. He had picked up a red dress—something very much like the one in her hands now—and held it against her with a playful grin.

"This, would make you impossible to ignore" he had said, his voice low with mischief, 

"You’re very confident" She had laughed, matching his energy. 

"I have my reasons" he had replied, his eyes never leaving hers.

"And besides it will be too easy to remove!"

Sonarika giggled at his comment. But Vikram stayed true to his words because that night at Galaxy Apartments she did wore it. And Vikram did take it off. Another night that laid a secret on the foundation of the perfect cover provided by Meghna of another slumber night. But that night was no slumber , it was an inferno of desire. They are fucking-- fucking each other with the same lust and energy they had during their first encounter at Jabalpur. With each thrust, Sonarika is crying out; Vikram was grunting, as he was driving his cock so deeply inside the milfy woman's body. Sonarika raises her knees towards her chest, and wraps her legs around his waist, locking her ankles. Then she starts humping her ass up, meeting his every thrust with one of her own. They both grunt each time their pelvises collide.

The thrustings became heavy and they both were reaching their breaking point they so much craved. Vikram then rose up on his stiffened arms, and drives his cock so hard and so deep into Sonarika. She gripped his back, digging her fingernails in, and using her arms and her legs, she pulled him even deeper, then held him there. He roars, then grunts, again and again, sending his thick cum to Sonarika's waiting love tunnel.

When he finally finishes ejaculating, he makes two more quick thrusts before slowly collapsing onto her, his head beside hers. And then they kissed. But the night never ended that way , this wasn't like the sex Sonarika had with Hemant , there was no tender pleasure quest with everything calm , slow and intimate. With Vikram , the expectations were always more , as if there was a need to outdo their last. And the night would always be filled with passion and pleasure. 

In the middle of the night they woke up and did it again. They are doing it moaning, grunting, and the sound of skin slapping skin. A small lamp always stays on in the bedroom, has just enough light for them to see each other. The blankets have been thrown off of the mattress. Sonarika's head and chest are on the bed, her ass up in the air, and Vikram is gripping her milfy hips, fucking her. The moaning and grunting grow louder. Every time Vikram thrusts his cock into her body, she squeezes his hand. Her squeezing of his hand is becoming firmer, more intense with each thrust of his cock into her. Then Sonarika squeezes hard, to almost hurting, and she screams out in extreme pleasure as her intense climax takes over her mind and body, her nerves shooting wonderful little needles down her legs and into her feet.

Her orgasm pushes her lover over the edge. He drives his cock deeper and roars out with his own orgasm, the muscles in his ass contracting, Vikram grunts as each ejaculation flows through his cock and into Sonarika's body. His whole body goes limp before they collapse together, their bodies uncouple as they fall back down to the bed.

They did it again in the morning , and this time too no tenderness involved. That was their relationship then. One that blurred lines, that made everything feel thrilling and justified in the moment. Back then, the memory had felt intoxicating. Now, it felt different. Heavy. Sharp. Like something beautiful that had turned into a sharp needle.

Sonarika stood still, the red dress in one hand, the blue in the other. For a moment, the noise of the store faded away, leaving only the weight of those two memories pressing against her. Two versions of herself. Two choices she had made. Two men who had shaped her life in completely different ways. Anjana’s words echoed faintly in her mind, urging her toward a future she wasn’t sure she wanted. Her thoughts wavered, just for a moment, daring her to lean toward the red—to accept what was being offered, to build something new from the ruins. But something within her resisted. Quietly. Stubbornly. With a slow breath, she placed the red dress back. And held on to the blue. It wasn’t a grand decision. It didn’t solve anything. But it felt… honest. When she stepped out of the trial room wearing it, Ragini’s reaction was immediate.

"Oh my God" she said, eyes widening. 

"Sonarika… you look stunning"

There was no exaggeration in her voice—just pure admiration. Sonarika glanced at herself in the mirror. For a moment, she simply looked. Really looked. The dress fit her beautifully, but it wasn’t just that. There was something softer in her expression, something more grounded. She smiled. A small, quiet smile.

"I think I like this one" she said.

But deep down, she knew it was more than that. Somewhere in her heart, she could almost hear Hemant’s voice again—gentle, certain—telling her she looked good in it. And for the first time, she didn’t dismiss that feeling.

She held on to it.

Because despite everything—despite the betrayal, the distance, the inevitable end—he was still there, like an unshaken lamp within her. A wound, yes. But also something more. Once, he had been her anchor. Her lightning rod in a world that often felt uncertain. And even now, as everything seemed to be pulling them apart, she realized something she could no longer deny. She might lose him. She might never have him again. But she would never truly erase him from her heart.

The evening settled gently over Janakpuri, casting a warm glow through the windows of Sonarika’s maternal home. Inside her room, the air was alive with movement—makeup brushes, scattered jewelry, the soft rustle of fabric. Ragini stood by the mirror, adjusting her earrings, while Sonarika carefully pinned her hair into place, the blue dress falling elegantly around her. Ragini glanced at her reflection through the mirror and tilted her head.   

"You know, that red dress would’ve suited you better. It had… more impact"

She said thoughtfully, Sonarika met her eyes in the mirror and gave a faint smile. 

"Maybe it would have" she admitted. Then, after a brief pause, she added. 

"But I wanted to wear this tonight"

"Why?" Ragini turned toward her, curious. 

Sonarika looked down at the fabric for a moment, her fingers brushing against it gently. 

"Blue was Hemant’s favorite color, and tonight… I want the world to see that despite an uncertain future , I will choose him , always him!" 

She said quietly. 

The words carried a quiet conviction that made Ragini’s expression soften. There was no drama in it, no desperation—just something honest and deeply rooted. Ragini smiled, a hint of pride in her eyes. 

"I’m glad you said that, have you told him?" she replied. 

Sonarika let out a small breath. 

"It’s not that simple" She picked up her phone from the table. 

"I did post a picture this morning… wearing this. He’s definitely seen it"

"And?" Ragini pressed gently.

"I tried calling him" Sonarika said, her voice lowering slightly. 

"He didn’t answer"

Ragini stepped closer, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. 

"Reconciliation isn’t easy, it never is" she said softly. 

Sonarika nodded, but her expression grew distant again. 

"I don’t even know if I should try" she admitted.

“Why would you say that?” Ragini frowned slightly. 

After a brief hesitation, Sonarika spoke. 

"I met Anjana yesterday" 

She explained the conversation—the suggestions, the certainty in Anjana’s words, the future she had painted with Vikram. 

"And… a part of me feels she’s right" she added quietly. 

"I broke something that can’t be fixed"

The room felt heavier for a moment.

"Hemant has changed" Sonarika continued. 

"Ever since we filed for divorce… he’s not the same person anymore. And even if I try—really try—I don’t think he’ll ever look at me the same way again. My betrayal… that’s all I’ll ever be to him"

Ragini crossed her arms, studying her. 

"So you’re giving up?" she asked, not harshly, but directly. 

Sonarika didn’t answer immediately. Her silence itself felt like an answer struggling to form. Before she could speak, the door burst open.

"Mumma!"

Karan ran in, his voice filled with pure excitement. The tension in the room dissolved instantly as Sonarika turned, her face lighting up in a way it hadn’t all evening.

"There’s my little hero" 

She said warmly, bending down to scoop him into her arms. She hugged him tightly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

"Are you ready for tonight?"

"Yes!" he said enthusiastically. 

"I miss Papa"

The question landed softly but deeply. Sonarika’s smile flickered, just for a second, before she masked it gently. 

"Let’s try calling him, hmm?"

At Karan’s eager nod, she picked up her phone again and dialed Hemant’s number. The call rang. And rang. Then switched to engaged. She stared at the screen for a moment before lowering it slowly.

"Papa might be busy right now" she said softly, brushing Karan’s hair back. 

"We’ll talk to him later, okay?"

Karan nodded, though a hint of disappointment lingered in his eyes.

"It’s okay, tonight is still going to be special" Sonarika added gently. 

She set him down and began helping him get ready, adjusting his outfit, fixing his collar, smoothing his hair. Her movements were careful, affectionate, filled with a kind of quiet devotion that Ragini couldn’t help but notice.

Standing to the side, Ragini watched silently.

Because in those small moments—in the way Sonarika smiled at Karan, in the way her voice softened—there was no confusion, no hesitation. Only love. And yet, just beneath that, there was still a storm waiting to unfold. As Sonarika finally stood up, dressed, composed, and ready to leave, she took one last look at herself in the mirror. The blue dress. The choice she had made. The man she still couldn’t let go of. And the uncertain road ahead. Taking a deep breath, she reached for Karan’s hand.

"Come on, let’s go" she said softly. 

And with that, she stepped out into the night—carrying hope, guilt, and a mind that still hadn’t decided which way it truly wanted to go.

                                                                                                                              (TO BE CONTD)

[Harry Jordan]

                                                                                                                      (CHAPTER CONTD)            

The night came alive the moment Sonarika and her family arrived at the concert venue of Arijit Singh. The air itself seemed to hum with anticipation—lights flashing, people pouring in, laughter and excitement blending into a shared rhythm. It felt like stepping into a different world, one where emotions were louder, brighter, and harder to hide.


At the entrance, they were greeted by Vikram, standing confidently with his younger siblings, Pawan and Sriti. The contrast from the last time Sonarika had seen them—at Ritesh’s memorial in Gurgaon—was striking. That day had been filled with silence and grief; tonight was full of life. Conversations flowed more easily, smiles came quicker, and the heaviness that once lingered between them had softened, if only for the evening.

Jagjeet quickly found common ground with Vikram, their discussion drifting into business, particularly Bajajcorp and its legacy. Their voices carried a tone of mutual respect, a familiarity built on past dealings. Meanwhile, Meenakshi was introduced to Sreelekha Naik, and the two women slipped into a conversation that felt both polite and quietly evaluative—especially when it turned toward Sonarika’s future in Goa.

"Where’s Katherine?" Sonarika asked softly at one point.

Sreelekha shook her head. 

"She stayed back at the hotel. Crowds like this… they’re not easy for her"

Sonarika nodded, understanding more than questioning. Soon, the group moved into the main concert area. The energy there was overwhelming in the best way—lights sweeping across the crowd, music vibrating through the ground, and an atmosphere soaked in romance and nostalgia. It felt like every person there was carrying a story, and the music was stitching them together for a few fleeting hours.

Karan, full of excitement, was soon whisked away by Anjali and Ragini toward a cozier section, where they could enjoy the show more comfortably. Sonarika watched him go with a smile before turning back to the stage, letting herself absorb the moment. Not long after, Vikram approached her. 

"Come" he said with a soft smile. 

"I want to show you something"

He led her and the others to a private gallery he had booked—an elevated space with a perfect view of the stage. The entire group gathered there, laughter returning, voices rising as song after song filled the night. Sonarika found herself singing along with Ragini, Anjali, and even Karan when he returned briefly, their voices blending with thousands of others.

For a while, everything felt simple. But then, curiosity tugged at her. She noticed an upper section of the gallery—more secluded, dimly lit, almost hidden. Drawn to it, she made her way upstairs quietly. What she saw there felt like stepping into a different kind of space.

Mouni and Sagar stood close together, lost in their own world, swaying gently to the music. Nearby, Meghna and Disha shared a similar closeness, their laughter low, their presence intimate. The sight unsettled her slightly—especially Meghna, whose role in bringing her and Vikram together still lingered uncomfortably in her mind.

And then, in the far corner—Vikram. He stood alone, his gaze distant, as though the music hadn’t quite reached him. But the moment he noticed her, his entire expression changed—like a lighthouse cutting through darkness.

"You came" he said, a warmth returning to his voice.

Sonarika felt a quiet relief seeing that shift. For a moment, she allowed herself to forget everything—the complications, the guilt, the weight of decisions waiting ahead. They stood there together, just like they used to. In Galaxy Apartments. In Bali. During those late-night dinners where time seemed to pause just for them. And then, as if the night itself had chosen the moment, Arijit started to sing 'Aavan Jaavan' from War 2.

"This is your moment" Vikram smiled softly. 

Sonarika turned toward the stage, her heart stirring as the familiar melody filled the air. Without realizing it, she began to sing along, her voice blending into the music. The world around her faded—the crowd, the noise, everything.



Vikram stepped closer, his arms gently wrapping around her from behind. They moved with the rhythm, their voices low, their breaths syncing with the song. Memories flooded in—moments that once felt beautiful, full, undeniable. The mornings they had shared, the laughter, the quiet understanding that had once convinced her he was everything she needed. For a fleeting moment, it all felt real again.

Complete.

Ni tere sufne de vich sohneya                                                                          (Oh beloved, in your dreams)
Ni tere sufne de vich sohneya                                                                          (Oh beloved, in your dreams)
Saanu vi kadi aavan jaavan de                                                                  (At times allow me to come and go as well)

He turned her gently, his hand guiding her face toward his. Their eyes met, and something in that gaze held her there—something deep, almost hypnotic. 

Mere ambar mein aake joh thehra hai                                                              (The one who has settled in my sky)
Hai woh suraj nahi tera chehra hai                                                                       (It's not the sun, but your face)
Zyada sone se bhi joh sunehra hai                                                                 (It's more golden than even gold itself)
Sajra sajra, sajra sajra                                                                                             (It's fresh and radiant)
Tere toh dil nu laga ke sohneya                                                                     (Oh beloved, I've given my heart to you)
Tere toh dil nu laga ke sohneya                                                                     (Oh beloved, I've given my heart to you)
Saanu bhi kadi jashan manaavan de                                                               (At times allow me to celebrate as well)

The distance between them closed slowly, their breaths mingling, their lips just a heartbeat away. And then—Something broke. The trance shattered. Reality rushed back in. Sonarika stepped back abruptly, her expression changing in an instant. The warmth drained from her face, replaced by something uncertain, shaken.

"What happened?" Vikram asked softly.

But she didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Instead, she turned and walked away—quickly, almost urgently—leaving the quiet intensity of that space behind. Back in the lower gallery, she found Ragini.

"Where were you?" Ragini asked.

Sonarika didn’t respond. Not to that. She simply gathered Anjali and Karan, her hand instinctively reaching for her son’s. 

"Come, Let’s go closer to the stage" she said gently. 

They moved into the crowd, into the heart of the concert, where everything was louder, brighter, harder to think through.

Sonarika held Karan close as the music continued, his small presence grounding her in a way nothing else could. At one point, as she looked at him smiling, singing along, she imagined Hemant standing beside them.

Just for a moment. A complete picture. A family. Her chest tightened, but she didn’t let herself linger there. She glanced once toward the private gallery. Vikram stood there, watching. Even from a distance, she could see the disappointment in his eyes—but he still smiled. And after a moment, so did she. A small, quiet smile. Then she turned back—to Karan, to Ragini, to the music, to the life still in front of her. And somewhere deep within, beneath all the confusion and noise, a feeling settled softly into place.

For now—She was doing the right thing.

As the final notes of the concert faded into the night and the crowd began to thin, a soft exhaustion settled over everything—like the calm after a storm of emotions. Lights dimmed, conversations grew louder again, and people slowly began returning to their own realities.

"Mumma… can we call Papa?" Karan tugged gently at Sonarika’s hand. 

There was no hesitation this time. Sonarika nodded and pulled out her phone. She knew one thing for certain—no matter what stood broken between them, Hemant would never ignore Karan. Not him. The call rang. Once. Twice. Again. Her eyes stayed fixed on the screen, her heartbeat slowing with each passing second. But the call kept ringing… and ringing…Until it stopped. No answer.

"Papa didn’t pick…" Karan’s face fell almost instantly. 

Sonarika quickly pulled him close, smoothing his hair gently. 

"Papa must be busy, baby" she said softly, forcing a reassuring smile. 

"We’ll call him later, okay?"

Karan nodded, though the disappointment lingered in his small eyes. Sensing it, Sonarika shifted his attention, pointing toward the stage, talking about the lights, the music—anything to bring his smile back.

And slowly, it worked. But for Sonarika, something had shifted again. A small, quiet doubt had crept in. After the concert, Vikram had arranged a grand dinner at a posh hotel. The setting was lavish—soft golden lighting, a long table reserved exclusively for them, impeccable service. It felt like a celebration meant to close the night on a high. Everyone was there. Talking. Laughing. Reliving moments from the concert.

Sonarika smiled along, participating where she could, but there was a tension beneath her calm. Being surrounded by so many people—especially Meghna and Mouni—felt… unsettling. These were not just faces in a crowd. These were people who had, in their own ways, played roles in the choices she had made. In the mistakes she now carried.

At one point, Sreelekha raised her glass.

"To new beginnings, to Sonarika, and the incredible journey that awaits her at VATIKA. I expect nothing but the best from you" 

She said warmly. Glasses lifted around the table. Smiles followed.

"To Sonarika"

She nodded, offering a grateful smile, though her fingers tightened slightly around her glass. As she lowered it, her eyes met Vikram’s. He was already looking at her. There it was again—that same magnetic pull, that quiet intensity in his gaze. It unsettled her more now than it comforted her. She broke eye contact first. After dinner, she excused herself and walked toward the washroom, needing a moment alone. But she didn’t find it. Meghna was already there. She caught Sonarika’s reflection in the mirror and smiled—a slow, knowing smile that immediately put her on edge. 

"Well, looks like you’ve finally found your path. Goa suits you, doesn’t it?" 

Meghna said casually, turning on the tap, Sonarika didn’t respond immediately, focusing on washing her hands.

"And Vikram, your connection with him seems stronger than ever" 

Meghna continued, her tone light but pointed. 

"That’s not true" 

Sonarika said firmly. Meghna laughed softly. 

"Oh please. I saw you both upstairs. You can pretend all you want, but you can’t ignore what’s there" 

She leaned slightly closer. 

"It’s not just infatuation, Sonarika. It never was"

"Stop it" Sonarika snapped, her patience thinning.

Meghna only smiled wider. 

"What? Planning to go back to Hemant now? After everything?" she said mockingly. 

The words hit harder than Sonarika expected.

"That’s not your concern" 

She replied, her voice tight. Meghna let out a short laugh. 

"You really think that’s possible? After what you’ve done? You’ve done too much damage" 

She shook her head. Sonarika’s jaw clenched.

"And anyways, Hemant’s doing quite well for himself. Haven’t you heard?"

Meghna added, almost casually. Sonarika looked at her sharply.

"In certain circles, they’ve started calling him ‘Alpha' Kumar..." 

Meghna continued, drying her hands slowly, The name alone felt unfamiliar.

"Seems he’s been… quite popular lately" Meghna added, her tone dripping with implication. 

"Especially among the Bollywood Ladies"

Something burned inside Sonarika—anger, disbelief, something sharper than both.

"Be careful" she said, her voice low but firm. 

"Don’t make the mistake of turning me into your enemy"

"We’re long past that, dear" Meghna paused, then laughed softly. 

She stepped closer, her voice dropping just enough to feel personal.

"You still don’t get it, do you?" she said. 

"You were never just making choices. You were being moved"

"What are you talking about?" Sonarika frowned. 

Meghna’s smile didn’t fade. 

"You’re a pawn, Sonarika. Always have been" She tilted her head slightly. 

"And whether you like it or not… your fate is still in play. In things much bigger than you"

Before Sonarika could respond, Meghna turned and walked out. Leaving behind silence. And unease. Sonarika stood there for a moment, her reflection staring back at her—but it didn’t feel like her anymore. Her hands trembled slightly as she picked up her phone. She called Hemant again. Engaged. The same result. A deep breath later, she dialed another number. Tara. The call connected.

"Tara, where is Hemant?" Sonarika asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

There was a brief pause before Tara responded. 

"Sir had to leave the city for an important matter"

“Where?” Sonarika pressed.

"London" Tara replied.

"London? Why?" The answer caught her off guard. 

"He mentioned… settling some old business" Tara said carefully.

The call ended, but the thoughts didn’t. London. Her mind immediately went back—long ago, when Hemant had first traveled there before the birth of YOD Industries. The first prototype. The first deals. And then it clicked.

ANVIL

The private military corporation—his biggest clients. A chill ran through her. As the family made their way home later that night, still talking about the concert, laughing, reliving moments, Sonarika sat quietly among them. Physically present. But mentally somewhere else. With Hemant. With the life he was building. With the man he was becoming. And for the first time, she wondered—not just who he had been…But who he was now. And whether she had already lost him to a world she never truly understood.


THE NEXT MORNING


Sonarika woke with a start, her breath uneven, her body still wrapped in the warmth of something that didn’t exist. For a fleeting moment, she didn’t question it. She was back there. Back in Mumbai. Back in that apartment that once held her entire world together. She felt his arm around her, firm and familiar. Heard his voice, soft and close.

"Sona…"

The name alone melted something inside her. She turned toward him, instinctively, her fingers brushing against his chest, her lips finding his in a moment that felt so real—so achingly real—And then—She woke up. This time for real. Her eyes opened to the quiet stillness of her room in Janakpuri. The ceiling fan spun lazily above her. The air felt colder, emptier. There was no warmth. No presence. Just absence. She sat up slowly, her hand unconsciously touching the space beside her, as if expecting him to still be there. But there was nothing. After freshening up, still carrying the lingering ache of that dream, she reached for her phone. A message from Tara blinked on the screen.

'Sir returned to Mumbai late last night'

Her heartbeat quickened. Without thinking twice, she dialed his number. The call connected. And the moment he answered, everything she had been holding in spilled out.

"Where the hell were you?" her voice came sharp, unfiltered. 

"Do you have any idea how many times I called you?"

"I was out of the city" Hemant replied calmly. 

"I had something important to take care of"

"Excuses, every time" she snapped. 

"Even Tara didn’t know. I thought she was your assistant"

There was silence on the other end. Then his voice came again—steady, controlled.

"A close associate of mine passed away. I was attending the funeral"

The anger drained out of her instantly.

"I… I’m sorry" she said, her tone softening, guilt creeping in. 

"I didn’t know"

"Its all alright , I am used to the grimm and brooding moments , tragedies are consistent with me. Atleast I am glad it didn't affect you and your perfect family. Would've ruined your night with family at the concert"

The words hit her harder than she expected.

"Concert? You knew?"

"Of course. I saw the pictures in your social media" Hemant said simply.

"Karan missed you" she said quickly, almost defensively. 

"Some of those video calls… he wanted his Papa there. He wanted to show you"

There was a brief silence. Then Hemant spoke, his voice softer—but distant.

"He can have his happy moments with his Papa when he comes home from vacation. After all he has a new home waiting for him"

"He’ll love it. I’m sure" Sonarika tried to soften the space between them. 

"Hope so....its just been few days and I already miss his antics...I saw how happy he was in those concert photos.." 

Hemant said. with a faint exhale. For a second, there was no bitterness. Just… something real. But it didn’t last.

"I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.....surrounded by your loved ones. Your parents. Karan. Anjali. Your friends. Mouni. Sagar.  Your Vikram" 

"My Vikram? What are you talking about?" Sonarika stiffened. 

“How did the double date go?” he asked, almost casually.

"Double date? Hemant, who told you this?" Her breath caught.

"Kunal told me. Mouni bragged to him about their planned double date with you and Vikram to rekindle the kind of bonding you guys had in the past"

Hemant confessed with a bitter tone. Sonarika shut her eyes briefly, frustration building. 

"Hemant....There was no double date...you have to believe me" she said firmly.

Silence followed. A long one. Then—

"How can I believe you...after everything. But one thing is certain Sonarika. I am no longer upset , lately I was bothered by the separation. But this isolation also helped seeing things a little clearly. Maybe somewhere , I did slip up in our marriage and that resulted in you choosing Vikram. And now , I am no longer bothered by it!"

Her chest tightened. His words felt heavier than anger ever could.

"I’m happy for you. Truly. You’ve found someone who makes your life feel complete. And it’s time I let you go—for real. So this divorce doesn’t become another wound. I don't want us to end up like a toxic couple and learn to hate each other. We will just focus on Karan and his well being for now and make sure our individual time is spend on his childhood so that he doesn't feel anything left out in life!"

Her throat tightened. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she couldn’t stop him. Her vision blurred.

"Life has taught me that not everytime one can have hope. Sometimes its just suffering , and for someone to truly move on , one has to use that suffering as a motivation rather than a means of pain. I have accepted that you have moved on and for the moment. It has given me peace. So I wish you nothing but a bright future ahead , even if I am not a part of it!" 

He finished

"Call me in the evening for Karan. Have a good day and a great future Sonarika. Bye!" 

He gave his final words in the call.

"Hemant, wait—"

The line went dead. Sonarika sat there, frozen, the phone still in her hand. His words echoed again and again, each one carving deeper than the last.
A broken sound escaped her lips as the tears finally fell. This wasn’t anger. This wasn’t resentment. This was worse. This was acceptance. And it shattered her. Slowly, she stood up, her steps unsteady, and made her way to the garden outside. The morning light felt too bright, too indifferent to the storm inside her. She sat down, away from everyone, her face buried in her hands. And for the first time in months, the weight of it all truly settled in. Not just the mistake. Not just the betrayal. But the loss. The finality of it. Regret flooded her—sharp, relentless. Regret for the choices she had made. Regret for the moment everything had changed. Regret for not seeing what she had… until it was too late. She thought of Hemant. Of who he had been. Of who he had become. And how far away he felt now. The distance wasn’t just physical anymore. It was something deeper.Something she didn’t know how to cross. And as she sat there, quietly breaking under the weight of it all, one truth became impossible to ignore—She hadn’t just lost her marriage. She had lost him.

A few hours later, Sonarika stood outside Vikram’s hotel room. Her fingers tightened slightly around the edge of her pink saree. She had chosen it carefully—soft, elegant… controlled. She had come here with a purpose. To stop this. To make sure last night never repeated itself. She took a quiet breath and rang the bell. The door opened. Vikram stood there in an open shirt and loose pants, his hair slightly messy, like he had been in the middle of something. But the moment he saw her, his expression shifted—his eyes lighting up instantly.

"Sonarika…"

That smile. That same magnetic pull. For a brief second, she forgot everything she had rehearsed.

"Hi…"  she said softly.

Vikram stepped aside, letting her in, his gaze not leaving her. 

"You look… incredible" he said, almost under his breath. 

"This saree—honestly, it just… amplifies everything about you"

She gave a faint, playful scoff, trying to steady herself. 

"You’re just saying that because you like staring at my midriff and navel"

"I do" He didn’t even hesitate. 

The honesty caught her off guard. To distract herself, she looked around. 

"What were you doing?"

"Trying to fix this. Buttons came off" Vikram picked up his shirt slightly. 

"You? Fixing clothes? I thought someone like you would just buy a new one"

She raised an eyebrow. 

"I could. But this one’s my favorite shirt" He chuckled lightly. 

"Do you even know how to stitch properly?" she asked, a hint of amusement in her tone.

"I try, though I’ve stabbed myself a few times already" he admitted. 

She noticed the tiny pricks on his fingers—and without thinking, she stepped closer.

"Give it to me" she said gently.

Vikram watched her as she took over. Her fingers moved with quiet precision, pulling out a longer thread when she noticed his was too short.

"You even messed this up" she teased lightly.

"I had faith in improvisation" he replied.

She shook her head faintly, a small smile forming despite herself. Carefully, she threaded the needle, her focus shifting entirely to the task. For a moment, it felt simple. Normal. But the air between them began to change. Too quiet. Too aware. She could feel his gaze on her. When it was done, she leaned forward instinctively, bringing the thread to her mouth to bite it clean. The action bared the line of her throat. She heard his sharp intake of breath.

She had to look up then. Their eyes met. The world stopped. It was the concert all over again, but a thousand times more potent. There was no crowd here, no music to blame. Just the two of them, and a decade of unfinished desire screaming in the quiet. He moved first. His thumb came up, brushing against her lower lip. He showed her the tiny black filament caught on his skin. The touch was incendiary. It sparked a conflagration that raced down her spine, pooling low in her belly.

Then he kissed her. It wasn’t gentle. It was possession. A reclaiming. His lips were demanding, his tongue seeking immediate entrance, and with a broken sob she granted it. Her hands, frozen at her sides, were forcibly lifted by him and wrapped around his neck. The feel of his warm skin, the solid muscle of his shoulders under her fingers—it shattered the last of her resistance. He broke the kiss only to shrug off the shirt she had just mended, letting it fall to the floor. Her handiwork, discarded. The symbolism was lost in a haze of need. Her palms slid over his naked torso, rediscovering the familiar landscape of him. The heat of his skin was a brand.

His mouth was everywhere. Her cheeks, her jaw, the frantic pulse at the base of her neck. His teeth scbangd her collarbone through the silk of her blouse, and a whimper escaped her. He unwrapped her pallu in one swift, practiced motion, the six yards of pink silk sighing to the carpet. He knelt before her, his eyes dark with worship, fixed on the hole of her navel.

"Vicky…" she pleaded, but it was not a stop.



He leaned forward and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her stomach, just above the waistband of her petticoat. Then his tongue flicked out, tracing the delicate dip of her navel. The sensation was so intimate, so shockingly erotic that her knees buckled. A sharp, ragged moan tore from her throat.

He guided her back until she was sitting on the edge of the large couch, his hands working the tiny hooks of her blouse with an urgency that made her shiver. The pink fabric parted. He peeled it open, then fumbled with the front clasp of her matching bra. It sprang open, and her full, heavy breasts spilled into his waiting hands, into the cool air of the room.

"God, Soni. I’ve dreamed of these" A groan ripped from his chest. 

His mouth was on her left nipple before she could draw another breath. There was no tenderness, only raw, desperate hunger. He suckled hard, his tongue lashing the stiffened peak, his teeth grazing the sensitive areola. Pleasure, sharp and electric, shot directly to her core, making her arch off the couch with a cry. He switched to the right breast, giving it the same relentless, worshipful attention, sucking and slurping as his hands kneaded the soft, yielding flesh.

"I want to drink you" he gasped against her damp skin, moving back to the left. 

"I want to taste your milk here"

A hysterical, breathless laugh bubbled up in her. 

"You’d… ah!… you’d have to learn how a woman’s body works first"

He looked up, his lips glistening, his eyes burning. 

"I know how it works. I’ll put my baby in this belly, and then I’ll have my fill" 

The crude, possessive promise should have revolted her. It did the opposite. It stoked the fire higher. 

"Has anyone ever loved these like I do?" he demanded, his thumb circling a nipple. 

"Has anyone ever made you moan like this?"

"Hemant" The name fell from her lips, unbidden, a stupid, reflexive truth. 

Hemant

The sound of his name was a bucket of ice water. Reality crashed back in a sickening wave. The taste of Vikram’s skin turned to ash in her mouth. The pleasure curdled into a deep, gut-wrenching shame. She looked down—at her breasts exposed and glistening from his mouth, at this man who was not her Hemant on his knees between her thighs, at the wreckage of her marriage scattered in this hotel room.

"No" 

The word was a gasp. She shoved him back, hard, scrambling away. Her hands flew to her chest, clumsily hooking her bra, yanking her blouse closed. 

"No, no, no. This is a mistake. A terrible mistake"

"Sonarika, wait—" Vikram reached for her, confusion and lingering desire warring on his face.

But she was already running, snatching her pallu from the floor, fumbling with the lock. She didn’t look back. She fled down the corridor, the echo of her own heartbeat a frantic drum of condemnation in her ears. The ride home was a silent, nauseating blur. She walked into her maternal home on trembling legs, ignoring everyone else, and locked herself in her old bedroom.

Only then did she collapse. Her back slid down the length of the door until she hit the floor, a broken doll. The tears came then, hot and silent and full of a despair so complete it choked her. She crumpled forward, her forehead touching her knees, the expensive pink silk of her saree bunching around her. She wept for the woman she had been, for the wife she had failed to be, for the tempting, ruinous path she had almost taken.

'I am a wreck. A shipwreck' 

The thought was a cold, certain truth. 

'Hemant left because he saw this in me. This weakness. This chaos. I don’t deserve to be saved. I deserve to sink'

In the dark silence of the room, hunched on the floor, Sonarika felt all hope dissolve, leaving nothing but the salt of her tears and the aching, hollowed-out memory of Vikram’s mouth on her skin.

                                                                                                                               (TO BE CONTD)

[Harry Jordan]

                                                                                                                             (CHAPTER CONTD)                         

The evening sky had begun to dim when Sonarika reached Reshma’s house. For a moment, she just stood outside the door, gathering herself. Her fingers trembled slightly as she rang the bell. The door opened almost instantly.

"Sonarika!" 

Reshma’s face lit up with genuine warmth as she pulled her into a hug. But just as quickly, that warmth shifted into concern. 

"Hey… what happened? You don’t look okay"

That was all it took. Sonarika’s composure cracked again—but this time, she held it just enough to step inside.

"Sit. Breathe. Tell me everything" Reshma guided her to the couch, gently holding her hand. 

And this time…Sonarika didn’t hold back. The words came slowly at first. Then all at once. She confessed everything—the affair with Vikram, the choices she had made, the way it had shattered her marriage , everything to this moment , every detail , every situations , every emotions. Her voice broke multiple times, but she didn’t stop. Then came the part she had never fully said out loud.

"Ever since that freak accident…I was never the same… something changed in me. I couldn’t control certain urges. It felt like… I wasn’t myself anymore" 

She whispered. Reshma didn’t interrupt. She just listened. Carefully. Quietly. Absorbing every piece. When Sonarika finally finished, the room fell silent for a moment. Then Reshma exhaled slowly.

"That explains a lot…"

"What do you mean?" Sonarika looked at her, confused. 

Reshma leaned back slightly, her eyes thoughtful. 

"You weren’t always like this, Sonarika. The girl I knew… she was curious. Always exploring, always questioning things. You used to find joy in the smallest discoveries"

A faint, broken smile touched Sonarika’s lips at the memory.

"Your love for plants, that didn’t come from nowhere. That was your nature" 

Reshma continued, her tone softened.

"But somewhere along the way… you lost that. You became… quieter. More withdrawn. Like you stopped being you"

"It started after that stupid accident… when that grill fell. I tried to push Meghna out of the way…"

Sonarika’s eyes lowered. Reshma’s expression shifted slightly at the name.

"Do you trust Meghna?" she asked suddenly.

Sonarika hesitated.

"I used to, she was… everything to me back then. My support system" she admitted.  

Her voice hardened slightly. 

"But now… I don’t know. Something feels off. Especially after realizing how much she pushed Vikram into my life"

"That makes sense" Reshma nodded slowly. 

"How?" Sonarika asked.

Reshma stood up and walked inside, returning with a file in her hand.

"There’s something I never told you. Back when you were recovering… I was in Delhi. I went to the hospital to see you" 

She said, sitting down again. Sonarika looked up, surprised.

"But Meghna stopped me, She said you shouldn’t be disturbed. That you head injury was severe and was on the verge of memory loss. That you needed distance from your past" 

Reshma continued. A pause.

"And I believed her at that time. But something about it… didn’t sit right with me"

"Reshma , I didn't have that much serious health complication?" Sonarika stated with shock.

"I know Sonarika , I learned it after what happened later"

Sonarika’s breath grew shallow.

"Years later, I found out something else. My visit at that time in Delhi was meant to be longer as I planned to move back for a diploma course at a university nearby. They greenlit the application initially,  but after trying to visit you in the hospital , a few days later , I recieved a notification that my appilcation was rejected citing that I wasn't 'qualified' enough. Years later , through my husband , I learned that my rejection was done due to managament pressure"  

Reshma went on, tapping the file lightly. Sonarika’s fingers tightened.

"And when I investigated that pressure, I learned one of the management member had close ties with Meghna" 

Reshma said quietly. Silence filled the room.

"She wasn't just a journalist" Reshma added. 

"She’s connected to something much bigger. A network…..of powerful people, political influence, illegal operations...including ties to a woman in power who runs a sex trafficking ring to seize power and influence" 

Her voice lowered. Sonarika felt her chest tighten. This was beyond what she had imagined.

"I knew she was… manipulative, but this…?" she whispered. 

"Hey. Look at me" Reshma reached out and held her hand firmly. 

Sonarika did.

"You’re not alone in this" Reshma said gently. 

"Whatever she’s doing—there’s a reason. And we’ll figure it out"

But Sonarika shook her head, tears forming again.

"None of that changes what I’ve done" she said, her voice breaking. 

"I’ve already lost Hemant. Completely. There’s no going back"

Reshma didn’t agree.

"You’ve changed" she said calmly.

"How can you be so sure?" Sonarika frowned through her tears. 

"Because this time, you resisted" Reshma said, her voice steady.

Sonarika froze.

"You didn’t give in. Based on all the things you told me , unlike all the time Vikram had worked his charm on you , this time , you resisted Vikram. You didn't succumb to the temptation easily , you showed resolve , you revolted. This shows that you are not that vulnerable and broken woman anymore" 

Reshma continued.Something shifted slightly inside Sonarika.

"You’re not that helpless, submissive version of yourself anymore You're resisting , you are revolting , I see my old daring classmate in you again now. And my faith in her still lives" 

Reshma added. Sonarika wiped her tears slowly, listening.

"You need to reconnect with who you really are....what you are meant to be" Reshma said. 

"And you need guidance. Talk to Dhananjay Shankar. The truth will show you your path"

There was a pause before Reshma added, more softly—

"And understand something… relationships aren’t perfect. Even mine wasn’t"

Sonarika looked at her, surprised. Reshma smiled faintly. 

"Suresh and I… we went through a phase. We tried 'open marriage' for two years to spice things up. We did with full discussion and consent with each other understanding each other's limits. I did things I never did in marriage , he did the same. But we still found our way back to each other , as promised. And we found our relationship to be stronger than ever that only deepened after two of my kids. Now those two years fuel our sex life in this lifetime. But just because it worked for us , doesn't mean it will work for others. That is where you went wrong Sonarika. Rather than discussing your needs to your husband , you seeked a thrill and broke his trust and love for you"

She leaned forward slightly.

"I’m not justifying your betrayal , I am simply pointing out that you now see your mistakes and betrayal and you understand your failings. That is the path of redemption. There is no guarantee you will get him back , but you can for the first time actually fight for him and his love" 

Reshma said gently. Sonarika lowered her gaze.

"The path back to him…..it’s gone" she whispered, 

"Maybe the old path is, but that doesn’t mean a new one can’t be built" Reshma said. 

Sonarika looked up again.

"Not by forcing anything but by becoming true to each other , because that is the truth both of you must accept , both of you lived each other's lies. Its time to give truth that chance , not just for love , but for the family that relies on that love. And family is everything worth fighting for Sonarika!" 

Reshma continued. A quiet determination began to replace the chaos in Sonarika’s eyes.

"You show him—not with words, but with who you truly are—that there’s only one place your heart truly belongs. You pay the penance for your sins and in the end show him how much he matter to you , don't tell him , just show him. Make him understand why you want this to work , convince him for a second chance and then rebuild your world again this time with truth and a new resolve , everyone deserves a second chance as long as its geuine and is to redeem!"

Tears still lingered, but they weren’t the same anymore. They weren’t just pain. They carried something else. Resolve.

"I’ll meet Dhananjay Shankar" Sonarika said softly.

"Good" Reshma smiled. 

She squeezed her hand again. 

"And remember… whatever comes next—you won’t face it alone"

For the first time that day—Sonarika felt it. Not relief. Not happiness. But something she thought she had completely lost—A reason to stand back up.

THE NEXT MORNING

The cab slowed to a halt in front of a quiet residential complex. Sonarika stepped out, her eyes scanning the place Dan had shared. At the far end stood a rowhouse—old, weathered, carrying the same aged charm as her maternal home in Janakpuri. It didn’t look like the residence of someone extraordinary. And yet… something about it felt deliberate. She adjusted her formal shirt, neatly tucked into her slacks. The outfit wasn’t just about appearance—it was armor. She didn’t want to walk in as someone broken. She walked through the gate, her steps steady, and reached the door. Ding. As she waited, her eyes caught something—a small camera mounted at the far corner. It shifted slightly. Watching her. A soft mechanical beep followed. Then—Click. The door unlocked on its own. From inside, a familiar voice echoed, calm and casual—

"Door’s open. Come in"

Sonarika stepped inside. The interior was simple. Neat. Functional. But before she could take it all in, she saw him. Dan. He was approaching her in his wheelchair, balancing a tray while maneuvering himself forward. The effort was visible. Without thinking twice, Sonarika moved toward him.

"Let me—"

"I can manage" Dan said, instinctively holding onto the tray.

She paused for a second… then gently but firmly took it from him.

"There’s no shame in getting help, You’ve already given enough for this country" 

She said, her voice calm but certain. Dan looked at her. Really looked this time.

"Fair point" Then a faint smile appeared. 

She placed the tray on the nearby table and took a seat. Dan rolled forward, positioning himself across from her. The tray held a teapot and two cups. She poured herself some tea and took a sip.

"I prefer less sugar. So… if it’s not sweet enough, that’s on me" Dan leaned back slightly.

"It’s perfect" Sonarika shook her head lightly. 

A brief silence settled.

Then Dan’s expression shifted—more focused now.

"So.....You’re here to know about your husband" he said.

"I am. I want to know… who he really is" Sonarika nodded. 

Dan exhaled softly, as if preparing to revisit something significant.

"I don’t know what version of him you’ve seen" he began. 

"Maybe a regular guy. A corporate employee. Someone… ordinary"

He paused.

"But the man I met…..was anything but that" his eyes hardened slightly with memory, 

Sonarika’s attention sharpened. Dan leaned forward a little, his voice lowering—not out of secrecy, but gravity.

"I still remember the first day I met him" he said. 

"Clear as yesterday"

A faint smile crossed his lips—this one not light, but filled with something deeper.

"Because that was the day I realized… my life was about to change"

Sonarika didn’t interrupt. She could feel it. This wasn’t just a story. This was something that mattered.

"Meeting him, wasn’t just coincidence. It felt like… stepping into something far bigger than yourself" 

Dan continued, his gaze distant now, He looked back at her.

"And I knew, right then… that I was about to become part of something that wasn’t normal"

A slight pause.

"That I was going to be part of nothing short of a Spectacle!"

                                                                                                                            (TO BE CONTD)