The pooja ended peacefully, but something kept bothering sanjay. Avni wasn’t wearing a mangalsutra, and there was no sindoor in her hairline. As  guru  wife, her empty neck said a lot. Her not accepting this marriage is still a sign of her freedom.

Even the priest had noticed, but he stayed quiet. He didn’t dare ask anything—neither to Guru nor to sanjay.

After giving food and clothes to the poor, everyone was tired and ready to go home.

Avni and Guru sat together in the same jeep. But they didn’t speak a single word. The silence between them was heavy.

Guru looked calm from outside, but inside, his heart wasn’t still. He wanted to say so much—to ask why, to apologize, and even to thank her. No matter why she did all this… she had still done something important. She had fulfilled his mother’s last wish.

Avni looked out of the window, her eyes on the night sky full of stars. They always fascinated her. Her body was tired, her eyelids heavy from not sleeping the night before. Her messy bun had loosened, and a few strands of hair danced in the wind, brushing against her face.

"Apun tujhse—" he parted his lips, the words ready to escape… but just then, his gaze shifted to her.

She was sitting quietly beside him, eyes gently closed, lost in sleep.

His voice froze mid-sentence.

His lips shut again as his eyes lingered on her face—a face that looked so peaceful, so innocent, almost untouched by the storm that had passed between them. For a moment, he just stared at her, as if trying to memorize the calm she carried despite the chaos.

He turned his head away, letting out a quiet sigh.

No. He couldn't bring himself to wake her. Not when she finally looked at peace.

And besides, what could he even say?

He knew it well—his words couldn’t undo the hurt he’d caused. And no amount of gratitude could ever match what she had done for him.

So, he chose silence.

The jeep came to a halt as they finally reached home. Guru glanced at her, ready to wake her up… but she didn’t stir. Not even a little.

He bit his lower lip, hesitating. A silent war broke out in his mind—should he call her name or just let her sleep?

After a few seconds of quiet debate with himself, he sighed and stepped out of the jeep. Then, walking around to her side, he carefully opened the door.

Without another word, he gently scooped her into his arms—lifting her in a bridal style that made his heart thud louder than the silence around them.

Her head instinctively rested against his chest, her soft breath brushing against his neck. , his arms wrapped securely around her fragile form.

In that moment, as he carried her toward the house, something inside him shifted.

She was a wound he had given, and yet, the peace he didn’t know he needed.

From dragging her into this house with rage in his eyes and hate in his heart…

To carrying her gently in his arms tonight—something had definitely changed.

No, it wasn’t love. Not yet.

But it wasn’t hate either.

Maybe it was guilt.

Maybe it was respect.

Or maybe… just the beginning of something he couldn’t name yet.

As she rested silently in his arms, her face calm against his chest, Guru’s steps slowed for a second. He looked down at her.

The same girl he had once accused… humiliated… forced into a bond she never deserved.

And yet, here she was—quiet, selfless, and still fulfilling responsibilities she never asked for.

A sigh left his lips.

He pushed open the door to his room with a soft creak, the weight of her still in his arms. Walking in slowly, he approached the bed and gently laid her down, careful not to disturb her sleep.

She didn’t move—completely lost in exhaustion.

His hand moved on its own, almost instinctively, as he reached out and tucked a few loose strands of hair behind her ear. Her face looked even more delicate in the dim light—peaceful, yet drained.

She must be tired...

Of course she was.

She had done everything today—all on her own. Managed the entire pooja, took care of every little ritual, and even kept a fast… for his mother.

A woman he had once dragged into this house like a prisoner, had now silently taken the role of a daughter-in-law—without expecting anything in return.

His eyes lingered on her face for a second longer than they should have.

Then, turning around, he stepped out of the room.

But not before pausing at the door… and stealing one last glance over his shoulder.

After stepping out of the room, Guru took out his phone and called Jai abd ordered him to come here.

He didn’t wait for a reply and cut the call.

He had to go somewhere important—but not without making sure Avni was safe.

No matter how much anger or revenge he held in his heart, there was one thing he couldn’t tolerate—seeing a woman lose her dignity.

And here he do not trust anyone with her… except Jai and Soori.

That’s why, even when he wasn’t around, he made sure someone was there to look after her.

Because no matter what their relationship was… she didn’t deserve to be left alone.

•••

Avni slowly opened her eyes as the soft rays of the morning sun touched her face. It took her a moment to adjust. Her body still felt tired, but after a minute, she sat up on the bed and stretched lazily.

She looked around the room, her eyes scanning the walls… and froze.

This was Guru’s room.

Her brows furrowed.

But how did I get here?

She didn’t remember walking in on her own.

She sighed and was about to put her feet down when something shiny caught her attention.

A soft metallic touch brushed against her skin. Curious, she lifted her saree slightly and her eyes widened.

A payal.

On her ankle.

Her breath hitched as she brought her knees closer and touched it gently with her fingers. A smile slowly spread across her face—soft, emotional, filled with memories.

It was hers.

Her mother’s last memory.

She had thought it was gone forever… and yet, here it was, back on her ankle, just like old times.

But that smile didn’t last long. It faded as her mind filled with questions.

Who brought it back?

Was it… Guru?

But he had said he threw it away.

Did he lie?

Why would he do that?

Obviously… to hurt me.

That’s why he married me in the first place.

Her smile faded completely replaced by anger.

Avni got up from the bed, confused and restless. She needed answers.

She checked the bathroom—empty.

The kitchen—no sign of him.

Even her own room—nothing.

She stepped out of the house and looked around. Her eyes landed on Guru’s jeep, he was there.

He was washing his jeep, shirtless, water glistening off his skin under the morning sun.

"Tumne mujhse jhooth kyu bola?" (Why did you lie to me?)

Her voice sliced through the air, catching his attention. Guru turned slightly, just enough to glance at her, but his hands didn’t stop scrubbing the jeep. His gaze went right back to the metal, as if her question was just background noise.

"Agar tumhare paas meri cheez pehle se thi, toh tumne kyun kaha ki tumne usse fek diya?"

(If you already had my thing with you, then why did you say you threw it away?)

Her words were sharper now, layered with betrayal. But he didn’t answer. Just silence—heavy, suffocating.

He finally finished rinsing the last bit of soap, grabbed a cloth and started wiping his hands. But before he could finish, Avni marched forward and yanked the cloth from his hands.

"Aey! Apun ka dimag already kharab hai—toh?" (Hey! My mind is already messed up—so?)

He tried to say something, but she cut him off mid-sentence.

"Toh kya? Agar tumhara mood kharab hai toh uss pe nikalo jisne kiya hai! Alag level ki problem hai tum logon ki—galti koi aur karta hai, saza kisi aur ko milti hai… dushmani kisi se aur, badla kisi se!"

(So what? If your mood is bad, take it out on the person who caused it! You people have some next-level issues—someone else makes the mistake, someone else gets punished… enemy is someone else, but revenge is on another!)

Her eyes blazed with defiance, her words hitting where they were meant to. He looked away, his jaw tightening.

A long, tense moment passed. Then, with a deep breath, he composed himself. The fire in his eyes dimmed, and he looked at her—calmer now.

"Kal ke liye… apun ko tujhe thank you bolna tha,"

(About yesterday… I needed to say thank you.)

His voice had softened, unexpectedly sincere.

"Apun ne jo bhi kiya… uske baad bhi tu aayi…"

(After all I did… you still came…)

Avni scoffed and crossed her arms.

"Oh, thank you bolna hai toh bolo! Aise hawa mein mat latkao."

(Oh, if you want to say thank you, just say it! Don’t leave it hanging.)

He exhaled and finally said, "Thank you…"

She didn’t flinch.

"Woh tumhare liye nahi tha… tumhari Mumma ke liye tha."

(That wasn’t for you… it was for your mom.)

Her voice was steady, calm.

"Tumhe pata hai ya nahi, par tumhari tarah meri bhi ‘maa’ nahi hai… aur sabse important baat yeh hai ki mujhe tumhari tarah doosron ka gussa kisi aur pe nikalna pasand nahi. Tumhari maa ki kya galti thi? Kam se kam unki last wish toh theek se poori ho."

(I don’t know if you know, but just like you, I also don’t have a mother… and most importantly, I don’t like taking my anger out on innocent people like you do. What was your mom’s fault in all this? At least her last wish should be fulfilled with dignity.)

The words weren’t loud. They weren’t dramatic. But they hit him exactly where they were meant to. His walls cracked a little as he nodded, unsure, almost guilty.

Then his gaze dropped to her feet.

"Tere paas ek hi payal hai…"

(You only have one anklet…)

His brow furrowed as the question formed. She followed his gaze and understood immediately. Her smile was bitter now.

"Dusri kahan hai yeh jaanae ka haq nahin hai tumhe "

She tilted her head, the sarcasm cold in her voice.

"Kya pata… mujhe dobara blackmail karne ke liye use qabar se bhi nikaal lao."

(Who knows… maybe you’ll dig it out of a grave just to blackmail me again.)

Her words left him silent—again. But this time, the silence wasn’t cold. It was heavy with guilt.

She sighed, finally breaking the thick silence between them.

"Hume mandir jaana hai darshan ke liye… I hope tumhe yaad ho,"

(We have to go to the temple for darshan… I hope you remember.)

Her voice wasn’t angry anymore—just tired, and maybe a little distant.

He looked at her, genuinely surprised. She remembered. Despite everything, she hadn’t forgotten.

He gave a small nod, a soft “Hmm” escaping his throat—neither refusal nor full acceptance, but it was enough.

She gave him one last glance, her voice quieter this time.

"Main tayyar hoke aati hoon."

(I’ll go get ready.)

Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away.

•••

Guru sat in the jeep, drumming his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel. The engine was on, the sun was up… but she wasn’t.

BEEP!

He pressed the horn, short and sharp—more out of irritation than need.

“Jaldi aa ja…” he muttered under his breath, though no one was around to hear him.

(Hurry up…)

He sighed, resting his head back against the seat, eyes rolling slightly.

He never waited for anyone. That was the rule. The world could spin, people could fall in line—but he didn’t wait. People waited for him.

So what the hell was he doing here?

Still. Sitting. Waiting.

Is she taking revenge or what?

She was smart enough to do exactly that—make him taste his own medicine without a single word. Silent treatment level: expert.

He glanced at the rearview mirror, his jaw ticking with restrained impatience.

"Ab toh aaja, warna mandir se pehle hospital pohoch jaunga—tere liye nahi, apne blood pressure ke liye."

(Now just come out, or I’ll have to go to the hospital before the temple—not for you, for my blood pressure.)

He gripped the steering wheel tighter, trying not to think about how her delay was bothering him this much.

Just as Guru was about to press the horn again, the sound of the door opening made him pause. His fingers froze mid-air, eyes casually drifting towards the house…

And then he saw her.

Avni stepped out slowly, almost unaware of the storm she was walking into — not outside, but inside him. The breeze caught the edge of her soft pink saree, making it flutter gently like a whisper. There was nothing extravagant about it, no heavy jewelry, no flashy colors… just simplicity. Pure, quiet, effortless beauty.

Her hair was tied into a loose braid that fell over her shoulder, with a few stubborn strands framing her face — rebellious, soft, just like her. The morning sun hit her skin, making it glow, and for the first time… he looked.

Not with irritation. Not with mockery.

But with… something he couldn’t name.

The tiny glass bangles on her wrist clinked as she walked, and unlike before — they didn’t irritate him. That sound, which once felt like unnecessary noise, now felt like… rhythm. Like she was walking in sync with something inside him he didn’t even know existed.

His eyes instinctively followed her movement — and then stopped.

Her saree shifted just slightly with the breeze, revealing a glimpse of her waist. That slender curve, innocent yet dangerously captivating, made his throat go dry.

Damn.

He looked away instantly, jaw clenching as he felt a faint heat rise to his cheeks.

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to cover up the sudden awkwardness, as if anyone could read his thoughts.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. She was the girl who fought him, challenged him, threw taunts like knives.

But today, standing in front of him in that soft pink, with quiet eyes and that unaware grace… she looked nothing like revenge.

She looked like a feeling he wasn’t ready for.

And yet, he couldn’t stop looking.

He came out from his Disneyland when she snapped her fingers in front of his eyes.

"Kya? Chale? Ya poori jindagi mujhe yaha khade rakhna hai?"