Author’s POV,

“So, you’re afraid of history repeating itself,” Shristi said gently. “You’re scared that if you open your heart, you’ll end up hurt like before.”

Prachi nodded, feeling a lump rise in her throat. “I don’t know how to move past it, Shristi. Every time I think about marriage, I remember how Papa looked at me, how he spoke to me and my mother… like we were burdens. How can I trust anyone not to hurt me like that?”

Shristi reached across the table, placing her hand over Prachi’s. “I understand why you feel this way. But not every man is like your father, Prachi. Maybe you could give yourself a chance to build a relationship, not thinking of marriage right now, just getting to know Sarthak without any pressure.”

Prachi bit her lip. “You know I’m too broken to love someone. My fear won’t let anyone in. Even if I agree to a relationship for my mother’s sake, I’ll have nothing to give. Trust is the foundation of any relationship, and I don’t think I can ever trust anyone again, especially with whatever is left of my broken heart.”

“We’re all a little broken, Prachi,” Shristi said softly. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t heal. As your mother said, you can’t live your whole life alone. Don’t miss the opportunity for happiness just because of fear.”

Prachi nodded, but she was only listening. Deep down, she wasn’t ready to act on Shristi’s advice. Shristi could sense her hesitation and knew her friend needed time to process. Still, she couldn’t help but worry what would happen if Prachi never found a way to heal.

Hoping to lighten the mood, Shristi smiled. “Okay, forget it. Let’s talk about something else. I’ve got some juicy gossip from my office!”

As Shristi changed the topic, the tension between them eased. They chatted about Shristi’s colleagues, their latest antics, and the everyday drama that filled her office. Slowly, Prachi felt herself relaxing, her smile becoming genuine. For the first time in days, she found herself laughing, the weight on her chest easing slightly.

Shristi’s unwavering support reminded her that she wasn’t alone, even in her darkest moments.  Prachi felt a strange sense of relief talking to Shristi, as if the weight on her chest had lessened, even if only slightly.

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The drive home felt like a blur for Prachi, her thoughts still circling Shristi’s words: Maybe you could give yourself a chance to build a relationship... without any pressure. It sounded easy enough when Shristi said it, but for Prachi, it was far more complicated.

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t shake the heavy cloud of thoughts that had been looming over her all week. Even Shristi’s light-hearted gossip hadn’t managed to lift her spirits, though it had provided a brief distraction. But now, as she rode her scooty through the mostly empty streets of Varanasi, her mind began to drift back into those dark, familiar places.

The city was quieter at this hour, almost serene. The wind tugged at her hair, and the cool night air kissed her face as she navigated the deserted roads. It was late, close to 10 p.m., and the usual hustle of the city had simmered down, leaving behind only the occasional car or pedestrian.

Just as she rounded a corner onto a more deserted stretch of road, her scooty began to sputter. At first, she thought it was a minor glitch, but within seconds, the engine cut out completely. She coasted to the side of the road, her heart sinking as the realization hit her: the scooty had stalled.

"No, not now," Prachi muttered under her breath, trying the ignition again and again. But the scooty remained stubbornly silent. A pang of anxiety flickered through her as she glanced around at the empty street. The shops were all closed, the streetlights flickered dimly overhead, and there wasn’t a repair shop in sight. Worse still, her phone was almost out of battery—just another frustration to add to an already long day.

She sighed heavily, feeling the weight of the day’s stress pressing down on her. She was stuck, alone, and had no way to get home.

Just as she was weighing her options, the distant glow of headlights appeared on the road ahead. She watched as the vehicle drew closer, her anxiety growing. It was late, and the idea of a stranger pulling over filled her with unease. But as the car slowed and came to a stop near her, her nerves shifted to surprise.

The door of the sleek, dark car opened, and out stepped Sarthak.

Prachi’s eyes widened. Of all the people she could have run into tonight, Sarthak was the last person she expected. He was dressed in a sharp, dark suit, looking as if he had just come from a long day at the office. The soft glow of the streetlights illuminated his tall frame as he approached her with purposeful steps.

“Prachi?” Sarthak’s voice was calm but laced with concern. “What are you doing out here so late? Is everything alright?”

Prachi hesitated, still processing his sudden appearance. “My scooty just… stopped working,” she explained, her voice betraying her frustration. “I’ve tried everything, but it won’t start.”

Sarthak glanced at the scooty, then back at her. “It’s not safe for you to be out here alone, especially at this time of night. Let me help you.”

Prachi’s first instinct was to refuse. She was fiercely independent and hated the thought of needing help. But as she looked around at the dark, empty street, a sense of vulnerability crept in. She sighed, knowing she didn’t have much choice.

“Thank you,” she murmured, her tone softening.

Sarthak’s expression relaxed at her acceptance. He turned and gestured toward his driver. “Can you check her scooty, please?”

The driver nodded and began inspecting the engine. Sarthak turned his attention back to Prachi. “Come on, I’ll give you a ride home. It’s too late for you to be out here alone. We can deal with the scooty tomorrow.”

Prachi hesitated again, her pride warring with practicality. She hadn’t seen much of Sarthak since he’d returned to Varanasi, and now here he was, rescuing her like some knight in shining armor. It made her uncomfortable but also strangely reassured.

“I’ll take you home,” Sarthak repeated, more firmly this time. “It’s not safe out here. The scooty can wait.”

Prachi opened her mouth to protest, but the look in his eyes stopped her. His steady gaze held genuine concern, and she knew arguing would be pointless. She exhaled deeply and gave a small nod. “Okay.”

A faint smile played on Sarthak’s lips as he gestured toward the car. “Good. Let’s get you home.”

The ride was quiet at first, the sound of the car’s engine humming softly as they moved through the dimly lit streets. Prachi stared out the window, watching the streetlights flicker past. Her mind raced, filled with thoughts she couldn’t quite pin down. Being this close to Sarthak, after so much time apart, stirred something deep within her—emotions she had long tried to bury.

Sarthak, meanwhile, stole occasional glances at her. He could sense the tension radiating off her, and it made him want to say something that would ease her mind.

“How are you?” he asked, breaking the silence. “It’s been a while since we last met.”

Prachi turned to face him, briefly surprised by his question. “I’m fine,” she said, a little more formally than she intended. “Yes, it has been a while. How are you?”

Sarthak chuckled lightly. “In front of you, aren’t I?” He smiled, a lightness in his tone. “No, I’m fine. Just busy with work. How about you? How’s your office? Do you like what you’re doing?”

The mention of work brought a small spark of energy to Prachi’s face. “Yes, I love it,” she admitted. “I’ve worked hard to get where I am. But I’m still looking for bigger opportunities... I want to keep pushing myself.”

She was about to say more when the car pulled up in front of her house. The ride had been shorter than she’d expected, and part of her was relieved it was over. Sarthak parked the car on the side of the road, and Prachi turned to him, offering a polite smile.

“Thank you for the ride, Sarthak,” she said, reaching for the door handle.

But before she could leave, Sarthak spoke again. “Prachi, if you don’t mind... can we meet after your office tomorrow? I want to discuss something with you... about the marriage.”

Prachi froze, her hand still on the door. Marriage? Why would he want to discuss that with her? Hadn’t she already made it clear that she wasn’t ready for such a conversation? Her mother had promised to speak to Srestha and gently refuse the proposal.

Confusion clouded her mind, but she nodded slowly, unsure of what to say. “Okay.”

Sarthak’s expression softened, his relief almost palpable. “Great. Goodnight, Prachi.”

“Goodnight,” she murmured, stepping out of the car, moved towards her house with Sarthak watching.

Her mind whirled with a thousand questions. Why did he want to talk about the marriage? Had her mother not spoken to Srestha yet? And why did the idea of meeting him tomorrow fill her with such strange apprehension?

As she walked up to her front door, Prachi sighed, feeling the familiar weight of uncertainty pressing down on her. Tomorrow would bring answers, she hoped. But for now, all she wanted was a few hours of peace.

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Prachi stepped into the house, feeling the weight of the conversation with Sarthak still lingering in her mind. As she pushed the door open, the familiar warmth of her home greeted her, along with the sounds of her parents talking in the living room. Her father, Naveen, was seated on the couch, flipping through channels on the TV, while her mother, Preeti, sat beside him, absently knitting something she had been working on for weeks. It was a routine evening scene, and for a moment, Prachi felt a fleeting sense of normalcy.

But tonight, that comfort felt distant. She couldn’t shake the unease, the nagging feeling in the back of her mind about the conversation Sarthak wanted to have tomorrow. And then, there was the unresolved tension with her mother about the proposal. The thought weighed heavily on her.

"Prachi, you're home," Preeti said, glancing up with a warm smile. "Come, dinner's ready. I made your favorite—dal makhani and chapatis."

"Thanks, Maa. I'll be there in a minute," Prachi replied, trying to sound as normal as possible. She quickly slipped off her sandals and walked toward the dining table where the food was already laid out. Naveen muted the television and joined them.

Dinner was quiet but pleasant. The usual small talk about the day’s events filled the silence, but Prachi’s mind was elsewhere. She ate slowly, mechanically, barely tasting the food as her thoughts kept circling back to the upcoming conversation with her mother.

After dinner, Preeti began clearing the plates while Prachi sat quietly, still lost in thought. Naveen disappeared into his room, muttering something about checking on some restaurant supplies for tomorrow. The house was quiet again, except for the sound of running water and clattering dishes in the kitchen.

Prachi took a deep breath, steeling herself for what she needed to ask her mother. She stood and walked toward the kitchen, her heart heavy with anticipation. Preeti stood at the sink, washing dishes, humming softly to herself. For a moment, Prachi hesitated, watching her mother’s slender figure working tirelessly. She didn’t want to upset her, but this conversation couldn’t wait.

"Maa," Prachi started, her voice soft but firm.

Preeti paused, turning slightly to look at her daughter. "Yes, beta?"

Prachi swallowed the nervous lump forming in her throat. "Did you... did you speak to Srestha Aunty about the proposal? I asked you to tell her that I wasn’t ready yet."

Preeti’s hands stilled, the plate she was holding remaining under the stream of water. She didn’t answer immediately, and that brief hesitation told Prachi everything she needed to know. Her mother hadn’t done it.

"Maa?" Prachi pressed, her frustration starting to bubble up.

Preeti sighed deeply and turned off the water. She wiped her hands on the towel beside her, then faced Prachi. "Beta, listen to me. I was going to talk to her... I still am. But you need to understand something. Srestha is willing to wait, and I thought—well, I thought maybe I could convince you to consider it. Not right now, but maybe in a year or so. You know, Sarthak is a good boy. He cares about you, and I—"

"Maa, that’s not the point," Prachi interrupted, her voice sharper than she intended. "I told you I wasn’t ready. I promised you that I would consider marriage in the future, but right now... I need space. Why can’t you understand that?"

Preeti’s face softened, but her stance remained firm. "I’m not trying to pressure you, beta. But tell me, when will you be ready? Can you give me a timeline? One year? Two? You’re not getting any younger, and I don’t want you to miss out on a good match because of fear."

Prachi’s frustration peaked. "Maa, why do you need a timeline? I told you I would marry eventually, and that should be enough. Why do you keep pushing me? I feel like you’re not listening to me!"

Preeti frowned, her voice growing firmer. "Because, Prachi, I am your mother. I know what’s best for you, and I don’t want you to close yourself off to everyone your whole life. I’m only asking when you’ll be ready because I want to help you. It’s not about pressure, it’s about preparing you for the future."

Prachi’s eyes filled with frustration as her emotions spilled over. "You’re not helping, Maa. You’re making it worse! I told you I’ll think about marriage when I’m ready. Why can’t that be enough?"

Preeti’s eyes narrowed slightly, a hint of impatience coloring her tone. "I’m your mother, Prachi. Of course, I’m going to ask. If you can’t even give me an idea of when you’ll be ready, then I’m just left waiting and hoping. Is that fair?"

Prachi’s chest tightened, anger and helplessness surging inside her. "Fine, you’re not ready to understand. So don’t. You don’t need to talk to Srestha Aunty. I’ll inform her myself."

Without waiting for a response, Prachi turned on her heel and stormed out of the kitchen, heading straight to her room. Her mother’s calls followed her down the hallway, but she ignored them, slamming the door behind her.

In the kitchen, Preeti stood frozen, shock and hurt evident on her face. She didn’t expect such a strong reaction. She had thought her daughter would at least understand her concerns. Preeti stood still for a few moments, staring at the dishes left unfinished in the sink. The anger she had been holding in now simmered to the surface.

Frustrated, she abandoned the kitchen, heading for her bedroom. Naveen, who had heard the tension from their conversation, looked up from the bed, concern etched on his face.

"What happened?" he asked, already guessing the answer.

Preeti’s face was flushed with anger as she sat heavily on the bed. "It’s Prachi. She’s being stubborn and refusing to listen to reason. I’m not trying to force her into anything, but she doesn’t understand that I just want what’s best for her. I’m not asking for her to marry tomorrow—I just want her to give it a chance, to open her heart. She’s shutting everything and everyone out."

Naveen, whose own guilt over past mistakes with Prachi often gnawed at him, sighed deeply. "Preeti, I understand what you’re saying, but try to see it from her perspective. She’s scared, and she feels pressured—even if you don’t mean to do it. You know what she’s been through. Pushing her will only drive her further away."

Preeti’s anger faltered slightly as she listened to Naveen’s calm reasoning. She felt the weight of her own frustration and guilt. Was she really pushing Prachi too hard?

"But I just want her to be happy, Naveen Ji," Preeti said, her voice quieter now. "I want her to have someone to rely on when we’re not here. I don’t want her to be alone."

"I know," Naveen replied, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "And she will find happiness, but not if we keep pressuring her. Let her come to the decision in her own time. Right now, we need to be her support, not another source of stress. She’ll understand in time, but it has to be on her terms."

Preeti took a deep breath, nodding slowly. "You’re right. I’ll talk to her tomorrow, apologize for pushing her. I’ll tell her we won’t bring this up until she’s ready."

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Prachi woke up early, still fuming from the argument with her mother the night before. She left the house not listening to her mother calling behind her, not in the mood for any more conversations. She needed space, both physically and emotionally.

The whole day at work, her thoughts kept spinning. Frustration clung to her like a heavy cloak. Every time she tried to focus on a task, her mind wandered back to the conversation she had with her mother. She hated fighting with Preeti, but she hated feeling cornered even more. And then, there was the looming conversation with Sarthak. What could he possibly want to say about the marriage proposal?

As the afternoon sun dipped lower in the sky, Prachi stepped out of the office building, her nerves prickling with anxiety. Sarthak was already waiting outside, leaning casually against his car. His eyes brightened when he saw her, and he straightened up.

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TBC.....