The next morning, Vikram was nowhere to be seen.
Anika checked the living room, the kitchen, even the small backyard. Empty. Only then did she allow her shoulders to drop, a shaky breath escaping her lips. The tension in her chest eased just enough for her to function.
She moved to the kitchen, her movements mechanical. Aadhi was already seated, waiting. The quiet between them wasn't hostile, but it carried a weight neither could name. Anika placed a simple breakfast in front of him and sat opposite.
Halfway through the meal, a sudden wave of nausea hit her like a punch to the gut. She shoved her chair back and ran to her room, one hand clamped over her mouth.
Aadhi froze, fork halfway to his lips, listening to the harsh sound of her retching from behind the closed door. He walked to her room but stopped at the threshold. The door was locked from the inside. He heard her gag again, and something inside him twisted. His hand hovered over the door, but he didn't knock.
When she finally emerged an hour later, her face was pale, her lips bloodless. She avoided his eyes.
"Anu, are you okay?" he asked softly.
She gave a small nod without looking at him.
But Aadhi's worry only deepened. Twice more, while she had been inside, he'd heard her retching. And he was not clueless. They were twins. They had grown up in the same small village. He had seen their aunt's symptoms before — the same pale face, the same nausea.
His chest tightened.
Pregnancy.
It was natural for a husband and wife to be intimate, but Anika's marriage had been forced. She hadn't loved Rajan at first, and Aadhi had believed she wouldn't have allowed him to touch her. But looking at her now…
He furrowed his brows. "Anu… how long?" His voice was low, hesitant, almost as if asking something else entirely.
She hesitated. Silence stretched between them before she murmured, "Two months."
"So… it's true."
His throat went dry. She was only sixteen. His little sister — the girl who should have been studying, laughing with friends, not carrying this weight. Forced into a marriage she never wanted. Losing her husband before she could even understand what married life was. And now… pregnant with his child.
"When did you find out? How?" he asked.
"Yesterday," she said, voice flat.
"Did you… test?"
She shook her head lightly.
"Then how are you so sure?"
"I've missed two months," she replied quietly.
"It might be stress," he said quickly, almost desperately. "Let's go to the hospital."
A bitter smile tugged at her lips. "Aadhi… you want to ask me whether I slept with him, right?"
Shame flushed his face. He lowered his head.
Her voice was steady, but her eyes were glassy. "Rajan and I… we were together the night before he died."
When she said died, her gaze went distant, unfocused, as if looking into another life.
Aadhi's chest ached. Her pain was raw, and he wanted to pull her out of it, to free her from the chains of memory. "Anu, it's not fair for you. He's gone. You're barely sixteen. No one here knows your past. You can just… forget everything. You don't need this burden. Just get rid of—"
The sharp crack of her palm meeting his cheek cut him off. His head jerked to the side, skin stinging.
"What did you say?" she demanded, voice trembling with fury.
He stayed silent.
She slapped him again, harder this time. "What did you say, Aadhi?"
Her hands shoved at his chest. "What fair things have happened to me so far? When I wanted to study, they forced me into a marriage! When I finally started to love him, he died! He's gone! But so what? I still love him, Aadhi!"
Her voice cracked, the pain spilling over. "Do you think I'd have let him touch me otherwise? He waited three whole months for my approval! He could have forced me on our wedding night — any man could have! But him?"
Aadhi stood frozen, unable to answer.
"He didn't even steal a kiss from me! He respected my dignity! My fucking dignity!" Her tears blurred her vision.
"I regret it, Aadhi! I regret not accepting him sooner! I regret giving him only one night! One night, Aadhi! He touched me like I was something precious. And now… now I have to live with the memory of his trembling hands. It's killing me. The guilt is eating me alive."
Her sobs deepened. "Do you know how much he loved children? Now he's going to be a father… but he'll never hold his child. And you think I can just erase his child from my body like it's nothing? Or do you even expect that I can fall in love with another man without guilt or shame? This child… it's his last gift to me — his whole love, respect, the last piece of our happiness, his only remaining soul in this world! How could you say that?"
Her voice broke further. "For others, it was just three months of memories. What about me? That was a whole life I lived for myself!"
She cried openly now, her shoulders shaking.
Aadhi's voice broke. "Anu… I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. Please… don't cry."
She wept quietly for a long time before forcing herself to breathe steadily.
"You're going to be late," she said, voice hoarse. "Just leave, Aadhi. I'm not a child. I know what I'm doing. Before you go, settle everything here. You know I can't stay here anymore."
"I'm not going anywhere," he said fiercely. "I won't leave you to face this alone again."
She shook her head. "I've been facing everything alone for a long time," she replied quietly.
"Anu—"
At that moment, Vikram had returned. His hand froze on the doorknob when he heard Aadhi's choked voice. He didn't open it immediately, standing there with his brows furrowed, listening.
Inside, Anika's voice rose sharply. "Aadhi, you're going to miss your flight if you keep delaying. Call Vikram and clarify everything."
Aadhi's tone was uneasy. "Anu, stay here for a while. It's hard to explain everything to him now. You only arrived yesterday."
Outside, Vikram's brows knitted together.
Anika's voice cut through the air like a blade. "Do you even understand what the fuck you're saying? Just because you can't explain to him, I should stay with him? How long do you think I can hide the truth? When he finds out, how could I face him without shame? How could you?"
Vikram caught fragments — truth, shame, explanation — but not the whole picture. Unease curled in his chest.
"I just want you to be safe," Aadhi said weakly.
"Safe?" Anika's laugh was bitter. "What safety can he offer me?"
"Vikram's not like others. He won't—"
"He's a man, Aadhi! I won't be safe with a man! No man is a gentleman. A man only needs a chance to show his perverted side!"
The words struck Vikram like a slap.
Her voice had been fierce, but to him, it sounded like an accusation directed at him. Pride and dignity twisted into hurt. His chest burned with anger. Without thinking, he twisted the doorknob hard, the metal groaning under the force.
The sound jolted both siblings. They turned, startled, as the door swung open.
Vikram stepped in, his gaze locked on Anika. His face was taut, eyes burning with something between hurt and fury. He had misunderstood — pieced her words into something far uglier than she meant.
The air was thick, every breath heavy. Aadhi's lips parted to speak, but no sound came. Anika's pulse thundered in her ears, her body rigid under his gaze.
Vikram closed the distance in two steps, his presence overwhelming.