4 years ago~

"Where is she?" Vihaan muttered to himself, pacing restlessly across the room as he dialed Aanchal's number for what felt like the hundredth time.

Still no reply.

Frustration boiled in his chest, and he hurled the phone onto the bed, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. He sat down heavily on the couch nearby, leaning forward and gripping his head in both hands.

"Where are you, Aanchal? Where the fuck are you?" he whispered under his breath, his voice trembling with both fear and anger.

It had been seven hours. Seven long, torturous hours since Aanchal was gone. Seven hours of him frantically calling her, only to be met with silence. Seven hours of waiting, of hoping, and of worrying about a million things that could go wrong.

She was six months pregnant, for God's sake! How could she be so reckless? How could she not think about how dangerous it was, especially in this weather?

For another agonizing hour, Vihaan did nothing but stare out of the window, watching the rain lash down in sheets. The dark clouds hung low, and the night sky threatened an incoming storm. The sight only added to his growing dread. Every instinct in him screamed that something was wrong, but he forced himself to stay calm. He couldn't let his mind go to the worst place. He had to believe that everything would be okay. He had to believe that Aanchal and their baby were safe.

He waited.

Waited for her to call him. To explain why she hadn't answered any of his calls. He would take any excuse—no matter how ridiculous, no matter how unreasonable. He just wanted her to call, to hear her voice again. He needed to know she was okay.

His phone lit up suddenly, and Vihaan's heart leapt. He rushed to grab it, hoping with everything in him that it was Aanchal.

But it wasn't.

Disappointment and anger flared inside him as he stared at the screen, seeing his father's name flashing. He tossed the phone aside, letting it ring.

But the phone kept ringing, persistent and annoying, for several minutes.

With a frustrated sigh, he finally picked it up. "What is it?" he snapped, unable to hide his irritation.

There was a brief silence on the other end before his father's hesitant voice came through. "Vihaan..."

"What is it?" Vihaan repeated, this time trying to keep his tone calmer, though the unease was building inside him.

"It's about Aanchal," his father said carefully, his voice quiet, measured.

Vihaan's heart stopped for a moment, a cold wave washing over him. He froze in place, waiting, dreading the next words.

"She... she had an accident," his father said, his tone cautious but filled with defeat.

Jaw clenched, Vihaan forced himself to ask, "And?"

There was a long pause on the other end. His father let out a heavy sigh before speaking again, his voice sounding utterly defeated. "And... she and your baby are no more."

For a second, Vihaan didn't move. The words hung in the air, unreal and incomprehensible. His mind refused to process them.

"Where is she?" he asked hollowly, his voice devoid of any emotion. He needed to see her. He couldn't believe it—wouldn't believe it—until he saw her with his own eyes.

"In the city hospital," his father answered quietly.

"I'm coming," Vihaan said through gritted teeth, already grabbing his car keys.

"Vihaan, I don't think you should drive. I can send someone to get you," his father offered gently, sensing his son's state of mind.

"I said I'm coming," Vihaan repeated, each word sharp, leaving no room for argument.

"Vihaan, you're not—" his father began again, but Vihaan ended the call before he could finish. He had no patience for any more words.

Without another moment's hesitation, he stormed out, keys in hand, and got into his car. His grip on the steering wheel was tight, knuckles turning white as he drove through the pouring rain. His heart pounded in his chest, the fear, anger, and disbelief swirling together into a storm of emotions he couldn't control.

When he finally reached the hospital, he rushed inside, barely aware of his surroundings. His eyes searched desperately until they found her.

There she was, lying motionless on the hospital bed. Pale. Lifeless. Gone.

He stared at her, his entire world shattering around him. But he didn't cry. Not a single tear fell from his eyes.

He simply stood there, numb.

Aanchal was gone. Their baby was gone.

And nothing would ever be the same again.

🕊️

A month later at Amsterdam, Netherlands~

"Ah!" Khushi cried out, her eyes widening in surprise as she looked at the doctor. "The baby kicked!" she said, her voice filled with awe and excitement.

Her gynecologist, Maria, smiled warmly. "Congratulations, Khushi!"

Khushi could only grin in response, her hand instinctively moving to her belly as she tried to feel the baby's tiny movements again. A sense of wonder and relief washed over her.

"I was getting so worried when the baby didn't kick till now," Khushi admitted, her smile fading just a little.

Maria's smile remained reassuring. "It's normal. This is your first pregnancy, and sometimes, it takes up to five months for the baby to start kicking."

Khushi nodded, feeling a little more at ease.

"Take good care of yourself, Khushi," Maria continued, her tone turning more serious now. "You know your pregnancy is a bit complicated, right?"

Khushi's heart clenched slightly at the reminder. "But... everything is fine so far, isn't it?" she asked, a hint of hope in her voice.

"Yes, everything is fine," Maria confirmed with a small nod. "But you still need to be extra careful. No physical strain, and most importantly, no mental stress. It's very important."

Khushi sighed but nodded in agreement. So far, things were fine, and she intended to do everything possible to keep them that way.

With a small smile, she thanked Maria and left the cabin, feeling lighter than she had in days. The excitement of finally feeling her baby kick filled her with joy. She couldn't wait to tell Raghav about it. He would be thrilled.

She had initially planned to stay at work until late, but after this momentous event, she decided to take the rest of the day off. Humming softly to herself, she made her way back to their apartment. As she reached the door, she fished out her keys and unlocked it, eager to share the good news with her husband.

However, the moment she stepped inside, something felt... off. Right in front of the door lay a pair of heels, carelessly discarded on the floor. Frowning, she took a few steps forward, only to find a red dress lying crumpled in the middle of the living room.

Confusion clouded her mind as she walked further inside. Her heart started beating faster when she noticed a pair of lacy bra and panties lying just outside their bedroom door.

Her mouth went dry, and a sense of dread began to creep over her. She felt her palms grow sweaty as unease settled in her chest.

Please don't let it be what I think it is. Please. Please. Please, she begged silently, her hands trembling as she reached for the door handle.

With a shaky breath, she pushed the door open.

And her world shattered.

There, on their bed, was her husband, the man she loved with all her heart, lying naked with another woman.

For a moment, she stood frozen in place, her mind refusing to process what she was seeing. Her hands instinctively went to her large belly, as if protecting her baby from the heartbreak she was experiencing.

Stay calm. Stay calm. Stay calm. She chanted those words in her head, trying to keep herself composed, even as tears welled up in her eyes.

The woman in the bed noticed her first and quickly scrambled to cover herself. Raghav's eyes widened in shock, and he shoved the woman aside, fumbling to pull on his clothes.

"Khushi, wait!" he called, hastily fastening his pants and rushing toward her. "This... this isn't what it looks like," he stammered, trying to grab her arm, but she stepped back.

She looked at him, her expression cold. "Don't," she said quietly, her voice trembling but firm.

"Khushi, listen to me," Raghav whispered urgently, glancing back toward the woman still on the bed. He lowered his voice, as if afraid she might overhear. "She's my boss. I had to do this... for the promotion."

Khushi let out a hollow laugh, disbelief etched on her face. "Of course, you did," she said, her voice breaking slightly. She refused to cry in front of him. Not now. Not ever.

"I did this for us," he insisted, desperation creeping into his tone. "For our baby."

Her eyes hardened at his words, and she instinctively placed a protective hand over her bump. "Don't," she repeated, her voice sharp. "Don't even try to touch me or my baby with your filthy hands."

Raghav's jaw clenched in frustration. "You're overreacting," he hissed. "I told you the reason. I did this for our future."

Khushi's temper finally snapped. "Go to hell with your reasons!" she shouted, her voice echoing through the apartment. "Go sleep with your boss's wife, with a whore, with whoever you want. I don't care anymore because you and I? We're done."

She didn't wait for his reply. Pushing past him, she grabbed her car keys.

"You can't be serious," he called after her, his voice laced with disbelief. "You're pregnant! What do you expect me to do?"

Her hand froze on the doorknob. For a brief moment, she closed her eyes, her heart breaking even more with every word he said.

"And let's not forget the constant crying and whining you've been doing for the past five months," he added bitterly.

She turned the knob, opened the door, and walked out without looking back. "Goodbye, Raghav," she said coldly. "You'll get the divorce papers soon."

Once inside her car, Khushi drove straight to the hospital. She needed to see Maria again. She needed to make sure her baby was okay after everything that had just happened.

When Khushi finally parked the car, the weight of everything crashed down on her. She gripped the steering wheel tightly, but it wasn't enough to stop the flood of emotions. Tears poured down her cheeks in uncontrollable waves as she sobbed, her cries echoing in the silence of the car as she mourned the love she had thought was real. Mourned the relationship that, in hindsight, may never have truly existed.

She wiped her face with trembling hands, but the tears wouldn't stop. Not knowing what else to do, she tried calling Aanchal again. The phone rang, but the result was the same—it was unreachable, as it had been for the past several days. With each failed attempt, the knot in her chest tightened further. She couldn't understand why Aanchal hadn't returned any of her calls.

Feeling helpless and desperate for answers, Khushi decided to call her aunt, Amrita. Her fingers shook as she dialed the number, and after two rings, Amrita answered.

"Maasi..." Khushi began softly, trying her best to keep her voice steady, though it wavered under the strain of her emotions.

"Khushi, are you okay?" Amrita asked immediately, sensing something wasn't right.

"Yes, I'm fine," Khushi lied, though her voice came out thick and muffled from crying. "It's just the weather here," she added weakly, hoping to deflect the attention away from herself.

Khushi had always been a terrible liar, and thankfully, her aunt had never been good at catching lies either.

"Oh," Amrita replied, though her hesitation was clear. There was a strange tension in her voice, something that Khushi picked up on right away.

"Is everything okay?" Khushi asked, her heart pounding. "I've been trying to reach Aanchal for the past few days, and she hasn't been picking up. Is something wrong?"

There was a pause, and then Amrita's hesitant voice came through. "I—No," she admitted finally, and Khushi felt her heart skip a beat. She tightened her grip on the phone, fear creeping into her chest. Something was wrong—terribly wrong.

"What happened?" she asked, her voice filled with worry and restlessness.

Amrita took a shaky breath before answering. "It's been a month, actually..." she started, her words slow and measured, as if she were carefully choosing what to say next. "We didn't tell you because... because you were pregnant. We thought we would tell you after your delivery."

Khushi's fingers trembled as she held the phone. "What happened?" she repeated, her voice now calm but firm, demanding an answer.

On the other end, Amrita broke down into sobs. "Aanchal had an accident, a month ago," she managed to say between tears. "She... she is no more."

The phone slipped from Khushi's hand as a sharp pain shot through her chest. 

This couldn't be real. It wasn't possible. Aanchal couldn't just leave her like this—not today, not when she needed her the most.

Clutching her belly tightly, she struggled to breathe, her world crumbling once again.