“A heart doesn’t need years to break… one moment is enough.”

***************************************

The day carried an odd kind of warmth, as though the universe had quietly shifted in my favor. I couldn’t point to a reason, couldn’t name a moment—but everything felt lighter, fresher… almost too good to be true.

I had just stepped out after a shower, droplets of water still clinging to my skin, when my phone vibrated against the table. The sound pulled me out of my thoughts. I reached for it casually—but the moment my eyes fell on the notification, something inside me stilled.

As I read the message, a strange storm of emotions rose within me. A small smile found its way to my lips, yet at the same time, a heaviness settled in my chest. It was the kind of feeling that didn’t make sense—where happiness and pain existed together, quietly clashing. It bothered me, somewhere deep down… but I knew there was nothing I could change, nothing I could control.

The message was simple, almost too simple for the way it made me feel—

Unknown Number —

“Ma’am, your work has been completed. You will receive the result today.”

I stared at the screen for a few seconds longer than necessary, my fingers hovering, unsure whether to respond or just let it be. Because sometimes, it’s not the message itself… but what it brings along with it, that changes everything.

My gaze lingered on the screen for a moment longer before I slowly locked my phone, placing it beside me. The room felt the same, yet something within me had shifted. That strange mix of emotions refused to settle—like a quiet storm brewing beneath a calm surface.

I took a deep breath and walked towards the window, letting the soft morning light fall on my face. Just a few minutes ago, everything had felt so light, so effortless… and now, there was a weight I couldn’t quite name. It wasn’t entirely sadness, nor was it happiness—it was something in between, something uncertain.

My fingers absentmindedly played with the edge of the curtain as my mind kept drifting back to that message. “You will receive the result today.” The words echoed louder than they should have. I had been waiting for this, hadn’t I? Then why did it feel like I wasn’t ready?

A faint, almost bitter smile touched my lips. Funny how one notification can change the entire mood of a day.

I closed my eyes for a second, gathering myself. Whatever was coming… I would have to face it.

I pushed myself away from the window, blinking as if that would somehow steady the chaos inside me. Standing there wouldn’t change anything. Waiting wouldn’t either. Yet, that was all I could do now—wait.

I picked up my phone again, unlocking it almost instinctively, my eyes drifting back to the message as if it might change the second time. But it didn’t. The same words. The same weight.

For a moment, I thought about replying… asking something, anything. But what would I even say? My fingers hovered over the keyboard before I quietly locked the screen again. Some answers don’t come from questions.

I moved around the room, trying to distract myself—fixing small things, adjusting what didn’t need to be adjusted. But my mind wasn’t there. It kept circling back, over and over again, to that one line.

Time felt slower now, almost deliberate, as if it was testing my patience. Every passing second stretched longer than it should have.

I sat down on the edge of the bed, staring at nothing in particular. That earlier freshness, that lightness—it was gone now, replaced by a quiet anticipation that refused to let me breathe easy.

And somewhere deep inside, a single thought kept repeating—

What if everything changes after today?

I leaned back slowly, my hands resting on either side of me as I stared up at the ceiling. The silence in the room felt louder now, almost pressing against me, as if it knew something I didn’t.

My phone lay beside me—too still, too quiet. Just minutes ago, it had changed everything with a single notification… and now it offered nothing. No updates. No answers. Just waiting.

I let out a slow breath, closing my eyes for a moment, but even that didn’t help. My thoughts refused to slow down. They kept racing ahead, building scenarios I wasn’t ready to face yet.

What would the result be?

Would it bring relief… or regret?

My fingers curled slightly against the bedsheet as a faint uneasiness settled deeper within me. It wasn’t fear exactly—but it wasn’t calm either. It was that unsettling space in between, where everything feels uncertain.

I turned my head, glancing at my phone again, almost expecting it to light up. It didn’t.

A quiet, almost helpless smile crossed my lips.

“Just a few more hours…” I whispered to no one in particular.

But even that felt like too long.

Because sometimes, the wait itself becomes heavier than the result.

Today, I realized something—I have never waited for anything this much in my entire life. Not even as a child. The kind of waiting I’m doing right now… it feels endless, heavier with every passing second.

But I know one thing for sure—when this happiness finally reaches me, it won’t be ordinary. It will mean something more… something deeper. I know that in that moment, when that joy finally settles into my ears like a whisper I’ve been longing to hear, I’ll feel like the luckiest person in the world.

Everything is happening just the way I once imagined… exactly the way I wanted it to. And yet, somewhere deep inside, there’s a fear quietly growing.

What if someone finds out?

Because if this truth ever comes out… maybe everything will fall apart. Maybe it will destroy everything. Either me… or the other person involved.

But I know this much—this truth won’t reach the world. Only a few people will ever know. And beyond that, I won’t let it slip to anyone. I can’t.

Because if it does… I’ll lose everything.

And I’m not ready for that. Not yet. Not so soon.

All I want right now is for this happiness to reach me… as soon as possible. That’s all I’m waiting for. And this wait—

it’s not small.

It’s so overwhelming that I can’t even put it into words how much I’m waiting… how desperately I am holding onto this moment before it finally arrives.

Just then, I felt as if someone was standing outside my door. A second later, there was a knock.

“Come in,” I said.

The door opened, and Devansh walked in—my brother. He looked unusually happy today. I couldn’t tell why, but it was written all over his face.

“Di, can I tell you something?” he said, barely containing his excitement.

I looked at him curiously. “Yeah, tell me… why are you so happy today?”

He grinned. “Guess why?”

I raised an eyebrow. “What happened that you’re this happy?”

Then he said, “Di… do you remember that prince… Yuvraj?”

For a second, something clicked in my mind. A memory I didn’t want to revisit. And instantly, a thought crossed my mind—What now? What is he planning this time?

He’s not going to force this marriage again… is he?

Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t respond immediately. Then I snapped back and asked, “Yeah… what about him?”

Devansh continued, “Di, Rana Yuvraj is coming here today.”

For a moment, I was completely stunned.

Coming here?

But our alliance was already over. I had clearly refused that day. Then why was he coming now? What did he want from me?

Was he going to force things again?

But he had said it himself—until I agreed, nothing would happen between us.

Then why now?

Maybe my expression gave me away, because Devansh quickly added, “Di, I know you’re shocked. After everything that happened that day… but relax. He’s just coming because he has some work with Dad.”

He paused, then continued, “And Mom told me to inform you… so just get ready and show Rana sa Yuvraj around the city.”

My expression slowly turned neutral.

“Okay… fine. I’ll be ready and come to the hall in half an hour,” I said.

Devansh nodded and left the room.

And the moment he walked out, my heartbeat picked up.

Why me?

Why did he have to go around the city with me? He could’ve gone with any staff member… anyone else.

But no—

it had to be me.

And in all of this… I didn’t even realize when that happiness I had been waiting for—the one that consumed my thoughts just a while ago—completely slipped away from my mind.

Now, there was only one thing left in it.

Yuvraj.

For a few seconds, I just stood there, completely still—like my body had forgotten how to move while my mind kept racing in circles.

Then I let out a slow breath and walked towards the wardrobe.

“Half an hour…” I whispered to myself.

I opened the closet, my eyes scanning through the clothes, but I wasn’t really seeing anything. My thoughts were somewhere else—stuck on him, on his sudden arrival, on everything that had happened before.

Why did it feel like something was about to change again?

I pulled out an outfit almost absentmindedly and placed it on the bed. My hands moved on their own—getting ready, fixing my hair, adjusting small details—but my mind refused to stay in the present.

Every now and then, a thought would slip in—

What if he says something?

What if he brings that topic again?

What if I’m not ready for whatever this is?

I paused for a second, looking at myself in the mirror.

My reflection stared back at me—calm on the outside, but my eyes… they carried everything I was trying to hide.

I straightened up slightly, forcing a composed expression.

“No overthinking,” I murmured, though even I didn’t believe it.

After a few minutes, I was ready.

Taking one last glance at myself, I picked up my phone and stepped out of the room. Each step towards the stairs felt heavier than the last, like I was walking toward something unknown.

As I reached the hallway, voices echoed faintly from downstairs.

He was already here.

My grip on the railing tightened slightly.

And without realizing it, my heartbeat synced with the quiet tension building inside me—

Because in just a few moments…

I was going to face him again.

I slowly made my way down the stairs, each step measured, controlled—yet my heartbeat refused to match that calm. The closer I got, the clearer the voices became.

And then… I saw him.

Standing in the hall, exactly the way I remembered—composed, confident, like nothing had ever been out of place. As if nothing had ever broken between us.

For a brief second, my steps faltered.

His gaze lifted—and met mine.

Everything stilled.

It wasn’t long. Just a moment. But it felt longer than it should have. There was something in his eyes… something unreadable, something that made it hard to look away and even harder to understand.

I forced myself to look away first, regaining my composure as I stepped into the hall.

“Namaste,” I said softly, my voice steady despite everything.

He gave a slight nod in return, his expression just as controlled. “Namaste.”

Formal. Distant.

Like strangers.

And yet… it didn’t feel like that at all.

Dad’s voice broke the silence as he spoke about some work, something official—words that I heard but didn’t really process. My attention kept drifting, uninvited, back to him.

After a few minutes, Mom’s voice came from behind, gentle but firm, “Take him around the city.”

Those simple words made my grip tighten slightly.

I nodded, even though a part of me wanted to refuse.

“Shall we?” I said, not meeting his eyes this time.

He didn’t say much—just a quiet, “Hmm.”

And that was it.

We stepped out together.

The air outside felt different—cooler, quieter. For a moment, neither of us spoke. The silence between us wasn’t empty… it was heavy, filled with everything left unsaid.

I could feel his presence beside me, steady, calm—while inside me, everything felt anything but.

I finally broke the silence, my voice low, controlled. “Where do you want to go?

A pause.

Then his voice came, just as calm—

“Anywhere you take me.”

My fingers tightened slightly at my side.

Because somehow…

that answer didn’t feel simple at all.

For a moment, I didn’t respond.

Anywhere you take me.

Those words lingered longer than they should have.

I looked ahead, avoiding his gaze, and said quietly, “Fine… I’ll show you the city.”

We walked towards the car, the silence stretching between us again. It wasn’t uncomfortable exactly… but it wasn’t easy either. It carried history—unspoken, unresolved.

I opened the car door and sat inside, my movements controlled, careful. He took the seat beside me, just as composed.

“Drive to the old fort,” I told the driver.

The car started moving.

Outside, the city passed by in a blur—familiar roads, familiar places… but today, everything felt different. Maybe it wasn’t the city that had changed. Maybe it was just this moment.

I could feel it again—that awareness of him sitting right next to me. Not saying anything. Not doing anything. And yet, his presence was loud enough to fill the silence.

I tried to focus outside, but my thoughts kept drifting back.

Finally, he spoke.

“You seem… different.”

His voice was calm, but the words caught me off guard.

I turned slightly, frowning. “Different?”

A small pause.

“Quieter,” he said.

I let out a faint breath, looking away again. “People change.”

Another silence followed—but this one felt sharper.

“Or maybe,” he added, his tone unreadable, “they just start hiding things better.”

My fingers stilled.

For a second, it felt like he wasn’t just talking about change.

It felt like he was looking right through me.

I didn’t respond.

Because I didn’t know what to say.

And somehow…

it felt like he already knew that.

His words lingered in the air, sharp and unsettling.

I kept my gaze fixed outside, pretending to be interested in the passing streets, but my mind wasn’t there anymore. It was stuck on what he had just said… hiding things better.

Did he mean something… or was I just overthinking again?

I finally spoke, my voice calm but slightly guarded. “Not everything needs to be said out loud.”

There was a brief pause.

“True,” he replied, almost too quickly. “But some things don’t stay hidden forever.”

My breath hitched slightly, but I didn’t let it show. I turned my face a little more towards the window, letting the silence take over again.

The car slowed down after a while, coming to a stop near the old fort.

“We’re here, ma’am,” the driver said.

I nodded and stepped out, the open air hitting me instantly. It should have felt relieving… but it didn’t. Not completely.

He stepped out too, standing beside me, his presence just as steady as before.

For a moment, neither of us moved.

Then I started walking ahead, knowing he would follow.

“This place is one of the oldest in the city,” I said, keeping my tone neutral, almost like I was just doing what I was asked to do. “People come here for the view.”

We walked up the stone steps, the quiet surroundings wrapping around us. The higher we went, the calmer everything outside became…

…but inside me, it was the opposite.

When we finally reached the top, the entire city stretched out in front of us—wide, open, almost endless.

I stopped.

“So… this is it,” I said softly.

He didn’t reply immediately.

Instead, he stepped a little closer—not too close, but enough for me to notice.

“The view is good,” he said.

Then after a slight pause—

“But not as distracting as you think.”

My heart skipped a beat.

I turned to look at him, confused. “What does that even mean?”

For the first time, there was something different in his expression—something less controlled, more direct.

“It means,” he said quietly, “you can try changing the topic… changing the place… but it doesn’t change what’s already there.”

The air between us grew heavier.

And suddenly, this wasn’t about the city anymore.

It wasn’t about the fort…

or the view.

It was about everything we hadn’t said yet.

For a moment, I just stared at him.

His words didn’t feel casual anymore—they felt intentional, like he was slowly pulling the conversation toward something I had been trying to avoid.

I looked away first.

“You’re overthinking,” I said, my voice steady but softer than before. “There’s nothing like that.”

A faint, almost knowing smile touched his lips.

“Is there?” he asked quietly.

That simple question felt heavier than it should have.

I didn’t answer.

Instead, I stepped a little ahead, putting some distance between us, my fingers brushing against the cold stone railing as I tried to ground myself.

“The view is better from this side,” I added, changing the topic again.

But this time… he didn’t let it go.

“You always do that,” he said from behind me.

I stilled.

“Do what?” I asked, without turning back.

“Avoid,” he replied.

The word was simple.

But it hit directly.

I turned around slowly, meeting his eyes again. “And you always assume things.

“Because you never say anything clearly,” he shot back, his tone still calm—but firmer now.

A silence followed.

Not the quiet kind…

the heavy kind.

The kind where both people know exactly what the other is talking about—but neither is saying it directly.

My heartbeat picked up again, louder this time.

“You said it yourself,” I finally spoke, my voice low, controlled. “Nothing will happen unless I want it.”

He held my gaze.

“I did,” he said.

“Then trust your own words,” I replied instantly.

Something shifted in his expression.

Not anger… not exactly.

Something deeper.

“I do,” he said slowly. “That’s why I’m here.”

My breath caught.

For a second, everything around me blurred—the wind, the view, the silence—

“Work with Dad?” I asked, almost instinctively.

He didn’t answer immediately.

And that pause…

said more than words could.

Because in that moment—

I understood.

This wasn’t just about work.

And suddenly, the wait I had been so lost in earlier…

the happiness I had been desperately waiting for…

It all came rushing back—

colliding with the reality standing right in front of me.

The realization settled in slowly… but heavily.

For a few seconds, I couldn’t say anything. My mind tried to catch up with what my heart had already started understanding.

“This isn’t just about work…” I said quietly, more to myself than to him.

He didn’t deny it.

That was enough.

I let out a slow breath, turning away again, my eyes falling back on the view—but this time, I wasn’t seeing the city anymore.

“Then why are you here?” I asked after a pause, my voice calm but carrying a faint edge now. “After everything… after I made things clear.”

A brief silence followed.

Then—

“To see if you meant it.”

My fingers tightened against the railing.

I turned back instantly. “What does that even mean?”

“It means,” he said, his voice steady, “I wanted to see if you still stand by your decision… or if it was just something you said in that moment.”

His words felt like a challenge.

Or maybe… a test.

“I don’t say things I don’t mean,” I replied, meeting his gaze directly this time.

“I know,” he said.

That answer caught me off guard.

“Then why—”

“Because people change,” he interrupted softly. “Situations change.”

A bitter smile almost escaped me. “So you thought I changed?”

“I thought…” he paused for a second, choosing his words carefully, “…maybe there’s more you didn’t say.”

My heartbeat stumbled at that.

For a second, it felt like he was getting too close—not physically, but to something I had been trying to keep buried.

“You’re thinking too much,” I said again, but this time… it didn’t sound as convincing.

“Am I?” he asked quietly.

Silence.

The wind brushed past, light but cold, as if trying to break the tension between us—but it only made everything feel sharper.

“Look,” I finally said, taking a step back, “whatever you’re trying to figure out… there’s nothing like that. Things are clear.”

“Clear for you,” he replied.

I frowned. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” he said, his eyes not leaving mine, “you decided for both of us that day.”

That hit harder than I expected.

“I had to,” I said, my voice dropping slightly.

“Did you?” he asked.

Another pause.

And this time… I didn’t have an immediate answer.

Because somewhere deep down—

I knew… it was

And maybe…

he knew it too.

The silence between them stretched, heavy and unresolved.

For a moment, it felt like there was still so much left to say… questions hanging in the air, answers waiting to be spoken. But neither of them moved forward.

Not anymore.

I broke the eye contact first, stepping back slightly. “We should go,” I said, my voice calm, almost distant now.

He didn’t argue.

“Yeah,” he replied quietly.

And just like that—

it ended.

No conclusions.

No clarity.

Just silence… and everything left unsaid.

We walked back down the stone steps together, the earlier tension now replaced by a strange, quiet distance. Neither of us tried to fill the silence this time.

The car ride back was even quieter.

No questions.

No remarks.

Not even a glance.

Just two people sitting side by side—close in distance, yet miles apart in everything else.

As the palace gates came into view, I felt something inside me settle… not peace, but acceptance. Whatever this was—whatever it could have been—was now back where it belonged.

Unspoken.

The car came to a stop.

I stepped out first, not waiting, not looking back. My steps were steady as I walked inside, the familiar walls of the palace welcoming me back into a reality I understood.

Behind me, he followed—but there was no need to turn around.

Because some distances…

don’t need to be seen to be felt.

What happened yesterday… none of it was easy for me. I’m not someone who treats people badly without a reason. But I don’t know what came over me the moment I saw her.

It felt like… there was some old rivalry between us. Like she had come into my life to settle a score I wasn’t even aware of. And the worst part was—I couldn’t understand why any of this was happening.

Just then, there was a knock on my door.

“Come in,” I said.

The door opened, and I turned around.

It was Saanvika—Avnita’s sister.

For a moment, I couldn’t understand why she was here.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, my tone calm but confused.

She stepped inside, her voice soft but firm. “I just came to ask you something.”

That caught me off guard.

A question? What kind of question?

A sudden thought crossed my mind—does she know about yesterday?

Before I could say anything, she spoke again—

“I’m sorry, Rana sa… but you cannot behave like that with my sister. Whatever you did yesterday… it hurt her a lot.”

Her words hit exactly where I feared they would.

So, it happened.

But how could Avnita tell her everything? What happened yesterday was between us—it wasn’t meant to involve anyone else. It shouldn’t have reached her.

And yet… it did.

For a moment, I said nothing.

Her words lingered in the air, sharp and accusing… yet controlled.

I exhaled slowly, running a hand through my hair. “Whatever happened yesterday… it wasn’t meant to hurt her,” I said, my voice lower now.

Saanvika looked at me, her expression steady. “But it did.”

That simple reply left no space for excuses.

I held her gaze for a second before looking away. “That was between me and Avnita,” I added, a hint of firmness in my tone. “She didn’t need to involve you.”

Saanvika took a step forward, not intimidated. “I didn’t need to be involved,” she said, “but I chose to be. Because she’s my sister.”

Silence.

The kind that forces you to listen… even when you don’t want to.

“She didn’t tell me everything,” Saanvika continued, her voice softer now. “But I saw her. And that was enough.”

My jaw tightened slightly.

“I don’t know what happened between you two,” she said, “and honestly, I don’t want to know either. But whatever it is… you don’t get to take it out on her.”

Her words weren’t loud.

But they carried weight.

“And one more thing,” she added after a pause, “she won’t say anything. She’ll just keep it to herself. That’s how she is.”

I frowned slightly. “Then why are you here?”

“Because silence doesn’t mean she wasn’t hurt,” Saanvika replied instantly.

That… made me pause.

For a second, I had no response.

Because somewhere deep down—

I knew she wasn’t wrong.

Saanvika straightened slightly. “I didn’t come here to fight,” she said calmly. “I just wanted you to understand.”

Another silence followed.

Then she turned towards the door.

“But next time,” she stopped for a second without looking back, “don’t do this again.”

And with that—

she walked out.

Leaving behind a quiet room…

and thoughts I couldn’t ignore anymore.

The door clicked shut behind her, and the room fell into a heavy silence.

For a few seconds, I just stood there, staring at the door as if she might walk back in and take her words with her.

But she didn’t.

I let out a slow breath and sat down, my elbows resting on my knees as I ran my hands over my face. Her words kept replaying—

“She won’t say anything… but she was hurt.”

My jaw tightened.

“I didn’t mean to…” I muttered under my breath, but even that sounded hollow now.

Because intentions didn’t matter anymore.

What mattered was—

it happened.

I leaned back, staring at the ceiling, trying to piece together what exactly went wrong. One moment, everything was normal… and the next, I had lost control over my own reactions.

“Why her?” I whispered, almost frustrated.

Why did seeing her affect me like that?

It didn’t make sense.

Nothing about this made sense.

I stood up abruptly, pacing the room now, trying to shake off the restlessness building inside me. But it stayed—clingy, persistent.

Saanvika’s words, Avnita’s silence… and my own actions—

All of it circled back to one thing.

I needed to fix this.

Not because someone told me to…

But because somewhere, I knew—

I was the one who crossed the line.

I stopped in my tracks, my thoughts finally settling into a decision.

“I’ll talk to her,” I said quietly to myself.

Because this time—

silence wasn’t going to be enough.

The thought of talking to her stayed for a moment… then faded just as quickly.

I let out a dry breath, shaking my head slightly.

“No…” I muttered. “That’s not a good idea.”

If anything, it would only make things worse.

Whatever this was—this confusion, this strange reaction, this tension—it didn’t need more words. It needed distance.

Control.

I straightened, my expression hardening a little as I made up my mind.

“I’ll just ignore her.”

Simple.

No conversations.

No confrontations.

No chances of things getting out of hand again.

That was better.

Safer.

I walked towards the window, staring outside, my thoughts finally settling into a quiet resolve. If I stayed away… if I kept things formal… then maybe everything would go back to normal.

Maybe this strange pull, this irritation, this unexplainable reaction—

would disappear on its own.

Because the less I saw her…

the easier it would be.

Or at least—

that’s what I told myself.

The decision felt firm in that moment.

Distance. Silence. Control.

It all sounded simple in his head—almost convincing enough to believe that everything would fall back into place if he just stayed away.

But somewhere deep down… there was a quiet unrest that refused to settle.

Ignoring her might stop the conversations—

But would it really silence everything else?

He didn’t have the answer.

And maybe… he wasn’t ready to face it either.

With that thought lingering in the back of his mind, he stood there, staring out of the window—trying to convince himself that this was the right choice.

Even if it didn’t feel like one.

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