The silence of the room was heavy, broken only by the faint rustling of the night breeze through the curtains. Daksh sat on the edge of his bed, his breathing uneven, his chest rising and falling as though he had just escaped a nightmare—a nightmare he knew all too well. His fists clenched the sheets, damp with cold sweat. The echo of his scream still hung in the air, faint but haunting.

His hands trembled slightly as he ran them through his disheveled hair, his jaw clenching as if trying to suppress the emotions threatening to break through.

He rubbed his face, his trembling fingers brushing against his temples as if trying to push away the lingering fragments of the dream. But it wouldn’t leave him. It never did.

Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he stood up abruptly, his movements sharp and agitated. He walked to the washroom, the cold marble floor chilling his bare feet.

The dim lighting cast shadows on his face, highlighting the torment in his eyes. He turned on the faucet, letting the cold water rush into the sink before leaning over and splashing it onto his face. Over and over, he splashed the icy water, desperate to wash away the images replaying in his mind.

But they wouldn’t leave.

His reflection stared back at him from the mirror, a ghost of the man he projected to the world. His eyes were bloodshot, the edges of his face tense, almost unrecognizable.

Droplets dripped from his chin as he gripped the edges of the sink tightly, his knuckles white, as though grounding himself against the memories that haunted him.

Not again. Daksh whispered, his voice hoarse, laced with frustration and fear.

The words felt hollow, as though he had said them a thousand times before, and each time, they held less power. He exhaled sharply and leaned closer to the mirror, his brown eyes searching for answers that eluded him.

The dream. It was the same. Always the same.

He straightened up, his reflection almost mocking him. But his mind betrayed him. The same dream, vivid and relentless, replayed in his thoughts—the same face, the same voice, the same name. Her name.

For years, it had haunted him, then disappeared as if it had never existed. And now, out of nowhere, it was back—with more intensity, more vividness, and more power. His mind replayed the fleeting images he could remember.

It’s been years. Years without this… Why now? Why her? Daksh growled, his voice barely above a whisper, but filled with anger.

Daksh’s mind raced as he leaned against the cold wall of the washroom, the fragmented images of his recurring dream flashing before his eyes. The man’s figure, shadowed and unrecognizable, stood next to a younger Khushi. Her face, though blurred by time and memory, was unmistakable—those sharp, defiant eyes, even as a child.

Who is he? Why can’t I see his face? Daksh whispered to himself, his voice carrying a mix of frustration and confusion.

The questions clawed at him, each one heavier than the last. His thoughts spiraled deeper as he tried to piece together the puzzle that had haunted him for years.

What happened that day? Is this even real? Daksh asked himself, his voice dropped, cold and sharp.

The shadow of the man in his dream lingered in his mind, a figure both familiar and alien. His stomach churned at the possibility that this figure was tied to something much darker, something buried deep within their past.

I need to find out. I need to know why. This time, I’m not running. This time, I’ll uncover the truth, no matter what it takes. Daksh said, his voice grew darker, more resolute.

Daksh closed his eyes for a brief moment, inhaling deeply as he leaned against the cold, tiled wall. The dream was more than just a nightmare. It was a sign, a warning, a puzzle he couldn’t ignore any longer.

And Khushi… she was at the center of it all. He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration mounting.

Khushi… Daksh exhaled, the name barely a whisper.

Do you remember this? Or worse… what don’t I remember? Daksh asked.

The thought struck him like a lightning bolt, leaving him momentarily frozen. He closed his eyes, trying to suppress the ache building in his chest.

And why the hell do I see that piano? Daksh asked himself in frustration

The grand, opulent room was cloaked in a soft haze of moonlight, filtering in through the tall, arched windows. The air was heavy with a mix of elegance and silence, the kind that seemed to hold secrets in every corner. At the center of the room stood a magnificent black piano, its polished surface reflecting the faint glimmer of the moonlight.

Khushi sat before it, her posture regal yet burdened with an unspoken heaviness. Her fingers rested lightly on the cool ivory keys, unmoving, as if hesitant to disturb the silence. Her face was an enigma— stoic yet haunted, her eyes carrying a storm of emotions she refused to let surface.

The memory of Daksh's scream replayed in her mind like a haunting refrain. The way he had woken up, disoriented and terrified, taking her name, left an unsettling mark on her. Why her name? she thought. Why was she in his nightmare? The question clawed at her insides, feeding the storm brewing within her.

But it wasn’t just Daksh. There was something deeper, older—a memory buried so far back that even thinking of it made her chest tighten.

Her fingers pressed down on the keys, a soft, melancholic note echoing through the room. Slowly, the melody began to take shape, each note weaving together a story of sorrow, longing, and strength. As the music flowed, her mind drifted to another time, another life—a life where she wasn’t this cold, calculated woman but a child who believed in warmth and love.

Her mother’s face appeared in her mind, vivid and soft. She could see her sitting at this very piano, her delicate fingers dancing over the keys, creating melodies that filled their home with life. Khushi remembered sitting beside her, her tiny hands trying to mimic her mother’s movements, her laughter echoing as her mother gently guided her.

As her fingers glided across the keys, a song began to spill from her lips, soft at first, but growing stronger with each word. The melody wasn’t just any tune; it was the song her mother used to sing, the one that had once filled their home with warmth and love. She sang softly, a song her mother used to sing, a song that carried the weight of love and loss.

She could see it as if it were happening before her eyes—a younger version of herself, barely seven, sitting on a plush rug near the same piano.

Khushi.... music is not just sound. It’s emotion. It’s where your heart finds its voice. Her mother had said with a gentle smile

Khushi had watched her with wide eyes, soaking in every word, every note.

Will you teach me, Ma? Khushi had asked eagerly, her small hands barely able to reach the keys.

Her mother had laughed, pulling her close.

Of course, my little star. But first, you must promise me one thing. Her mother said

What, Ma? Khushi asked

Promise me you’ll always let your heart guide you. No matter how tough the world gets, this music will be your strength. Her mother's voice echoed in her ears

Khushi’s voice broke slightly as she sang the next line of the song, her tears threatening to spill. The memory shifted to the last time she had seen her mother, the day everything changed.

The haunting notes grew darker, more intense as her emotions spilled into the music. Her mind replayed the day she had stood in front of her mother’s grave, clutching a single flower, her small body trembling from the weight of her loss.

Tears cascading down her cheeks as the last note of the song hung in the air, reverberating through the room like a ghost. She stopped playing, her hands trembling as she placed them in her lap.

You were wrong Ma. Sometimes, we have to lock our hearts. Music doesn't always give strength, sometimes music just hurts deeper. Khushi whispered

She closed her eyes, her heart aching with the weight of her memories.

I am sorry Ma, I couldn't protect you. Khushi whispered

Her hands stilled, resting on the keys as if seeking solace in their cool touch. The room was silent again, but it wasn’t the same silence—it was heavy, charged with the weight of her unspoken pain.

Khushi opened her eyes and stared at the piano, her reflection distorted on its glossy surface. She felt like that reflection—perfectly poised on the outside but fractured and lost within.

With a deep breath, she stood, her movements slow and deliberate. She turned back to the piano, her eyes lingering on it for a moment longer.

Some things are meant to stay in the past. Khushi said and then she left the piano room.

The soft rays of the morning sun streamed through the large, elegant windows of the dining room, casting a warm glow over the table. The air was filled with the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the subtle hum of soft music in the background. Saumya was seated at the table, a bright smile on her face, her hands wrapped around a cup of coffee. Ranvijay sat opposite her, reading through some documents, his expression calm but focused.

Khushi entered the room, her heels clicking against the marble floor. Dressed impeccably in a sharp black suit, her demeanor was as composed as ever. She acknowledged their presence with a brief nod and took her seat at the head of the table. The staff brought her breakfast, but she waved them away, settling for her usual black coffee and a small bowl of fruits.

Good morning, Khushi. Ranvijay greeted her, his voice deep and steady.

Good morning. Khushi replied, her tone neutral yet commanding.

Her sharp eyes flicked toward Saumya, who was practically beaming.

Good morning Di. Saumya said with a smile

Good morning. You’re unusually cheerful this morning. Khushi said

Before Saumya could respond, Ranvijay leaned back in his chair, his expression thoughtful.

I told you about her exams the night you returned from Europe, remember? Ranvijay asked

Khushi paused mid-sip of her coffee, her mind quickly recalling the conversation. She nodded, placing the cup down gracefully. She turned her attention to Saumya

Yes, you did. So, how did it go? Khushi asked

Saumya’s face lit up as if she had been waiting for this moment.

I secured the first rank, Didi! Saumya said

Khushi’s eyes softened imperceptibly, though her expression remained composed. She gave a single nod of approval and smiled genuinely.

That’s good. I’m proud of you. Khushi said, her tone neutral yet genuine.

The weight of those words hit Saumya like a burst of sunshine. She beamed, her eyes lighting up with happiness. She loved receiving praise from Khushi. It was a rare thing, and it always made her feel seen, special. She knew Khushi wasn't one to give out compliments easily, so this meant the world to her.

Thank you, Didi. Saumya said, her voice filled with emotion.

Maintain it. This is just the beginning. Consistency is key. Don’t let complacency get to you. Khushi said, her tone firm yet encouraging.

I won’t. I’ll work even harder. Saumya assured her, nodding vigorously.

Khushi casts a glance at Saumya, her gaze softening briefly before returning to her usual composed self.

It should. I don’t hand out compliments lightly. Khushi said

It’s good to see you encouraging her, Khushi. It’s important to recognize hard work when it’s deserved. Ranvijay said

Khushi’s expression remained steady as she placed her napkin on her lap.

She deserves it. I may not show it often, but I expect the best from her. You know how I am about that. Khushi said

Saumya nodded, understanding the weight of Khushi’s words, though she couldn’t help but feel proud of the rare acknowledgment from her.

As breakfast continued, the conversation shifted to lighter topics until Khushi finished her coffee and rose from her seat. Adjusting her blazer, she turned to Ranvijay.

I am leaving now. I have a meeting with the European team at the outskirts of the city. I may be late tonight. Khushi said

Ranvijay raised an eyebrow.

At night? That’s unusual. Ranvijay said

It’s necessary, Dadaji. The timelines are tight, and there are a lot of things to discuss. Don’t worry, I’ll manage. Khushi said

Ranvijay nodded, understanding the weight of her responsibilities.

Be cautious, Khushi. Late-night meetings outside the city can be unpredictable. Ranvijay said

Khushi nodded and then turned toward the door, her hand on the handle as she looked back at them once more.

I’ll see you both tonight. Don’t wait up for me. Khushi said

With that, she exited the room, leaving a silence in her wake. Saumya looked at her grandfather, a quiet question in her eyes.

She’s strong. But even the strongest have their burdens. Ranvijay said, his voice low and thoughtful.

One day, I’ll understand her better.  Saumya murmured, more to herself than to Ranvijay.

The night sky was draped in a blanket of stars as Khushi and Daksh stepped out of the towering building where the conference had just ended. The soft hum of distant traffic and the cool breeze filled the air. Khushi walked ahead, her heels clicking against the pavement in perfect rhythm. Daksh, as always, strolled leisurely beside her, his hands in his pockets, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

Khushi’s eyes flickered to him for a brief moment, observing his calm demeanor. There was no trace of the restless energy she had seen earlier through the cameras. The man who had screamed her name in his sleep looked entirely composed, as if nothing had happened.

But Khushi was not one to pry. She masked her concern with her usual cold exterior, keeping her thoughts hidden as they walked side by side.

Another successful meeting. You know, Khushi, I think we make a great team. Like fire and ice. Beauty and brains. (He paused and grinned, adding.) And obviously, I’m the brains. Daksh said, breaking the silence, his tone was casual, almost teasing.

Khushi shot him a sideways glare.

Your delusions are getting worse, Mr. Vardhan. Khushi said

Delusions? No, no. I’d call it visionary thinking. But you know, I’d think you were actually impressed by my presentation today. Daksh said

Khushi arched an eyebrow, her voice cold and laced with sarcasm.

Impressed? Please. The only thing impressive was how you managed to stretch a 10-minute presentation into an hour of unnecessary dramatics. Khushi said

Daksh placed a hand over his heart, feigning hurt.

Ah, there it is—the dagger straight to my ego. You could have just said, ‘Daksh, you’re brilliant,’ but no, you had to stab me with words. Daksh said

Khushi’s lips twitched slightly, almost as if she wanted to smile, but she quickly masked it with her usual icy demeanor.

If I ever use the word ‘brilliant’ for you, rest assured it’s sarcastic. Khushi said

Again the sharp tone. That one hurt. You really know how to wound a man’s soul, don’t you? Daksh said

Khushi glared at him but didn't reply.

They continued walking, the banter filling the silence, but Khushi’s mind wandered back to the morning. She couldn’t forget the way Daksh had screamed her name in his sleep. The memory gnawed at her, but she refused to let it show.

You know, if you keep walking this fast, people might think you’re trying to run away from me. And that would just hurt my feelings. Daksh said

Do you even have feelings? Khushi shot back, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Of course, I do. I have feelings for great food, expensive suits, and… well, maybe a certain ice queen I know. Daksh said, feigning offense.

Khushi stopped in her tracks, turning to face him with a glare that could freeze fire.

Daksh, I swear— Khushi began

Before she could finish, Daksh held up his hands in surrender, his grin widening.

Relax, Khushi. I was joking. Mostly. Daksh said

She shook her head and resumed walking, muttering under her breath. Daksh followed her, the grin still playing on his lips.

Khushi’s heels clicked softly against the pavement as she walked into the parking lot. The sound was drowned by the rhythmic drumming of rain against the roof of the structure. The chill in the air was biting, and her sleek black overcoat did little to shield her from the dampness.

Her car stood in the far corner of the lot, and as she approached, the driver stepped out with a sheepish expression.

Ma’am, there’s a problem with the car. Driver said, his voice barely audible over the rain.

What problem? Khushi asked

The engine isn’t starting. I think it’s an issue with the battery. I’ve already called for assistance, but with this weather…. It’ll take some time. Driver said

Khushi sighed, pulling out her phone. She dialed home, her tone cold and clipped.

Send another car to my location immediately. Khushi said

The driver on the other end hesitated before responding.

Ma’am, the weather is terrible. It’ll take at least an hour for the car to reach you. Driver said

Fine. Just make it quick. Khushi said

She ended the call, tucking the phone back into her bag as she moved to lean against her car, the rain creating a symphony around her. She adjusted her coat, crossing her arms against the chill. The parking lot was eerily quiet except for the sound of the rain.

As she stood waiting, the sound of an engine broke the monotony of the rain. A sleek black car pulled up a few meters away, and the window rolled down, revealing none other than Daksh Vardhan.

He leaned slightly out of the window, his signature smirk firmly in place.

Miss Shergill, waiting for a prince charming to rescue you? Daksh asked

Khushi didn’t even flinch at his teasing. Her cold eyes met his warm, playful ones.

No. Just waiting for my car. Khushi said coldly

Daksh’s eyes flicked to the immobile vehicle behind her.

Looks like your prince charming—aka your car—isn’t showing up anytime soon. Daksh said

Khushi crossed her arms.

The driver says it won’t start. Another car is on its way. Khushi said

In this weather? It’ll take forever. Come on, I’ll drop you. Daksh said leaning back into his seat as if contemplating something.

Khushi shook her head.

No, thank you. My car will be here soon. Khushi said

Soon? Khushi, look around. It’s pouring, it’s late, and you’re not exactly dressed for waiting out a storm. Be practical for once. Daksh said

I’ll manage. Khushi said

Daksh shook his head, opening his door and stepping out.

You know, I admire your independence, but this is ridiculous. You’re going to catch a cold standing here. Get in the car. I won’t bite, I promise. Daksh said

I already said no. My car will be here soon. Khushi said coldly

Daksh crossed his arms, his smirk softening into something more sincere.

Listen, I’m not leaving you here in this weather. You can either sit in my car willingly, or I’ll pick you up and put you there myself. Daksh said

You wouldn’t dare. Khushi said narrowing her eyes

Try me. Daksh said, his tone light but his gaze steady.

After a moment of silent deliberation, Khushi sighed.

Fine. But on one condition. Khushi said

Name it. Daksh said

You won’t annoy me. Khushi said, her voice sharp.

That’s a tough one, but I’ll try. Daksh said

Khushi moved toward his car and opened the backseat door.

Uh-uh. I’m not your driver. Passenger seat, please. Daksh said, leaning casually against the car.

Khushi shot him a glare but relented, shutting the back door and walking around to the front. She slid into the passenger seat, her movements stiff.

Daksh climbed in, started the car, and turned the heater on.

Comfortable? Daksh asked

Just drive. Khushi muttered, turning her gaze out the window.

As the SUV pulled out of the lot, the rain continued to pelt against the windshield. Daksh glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.

The silence stretched between them, comfortable yet charged. Daksh broke it with another quip.

So, are you always this cold, or is it just reserved for me? Daksh asked

Do you always talk this much, or is it just when I’m around? Khushi countered.

But admit it, Khushi . You’d be bored without me. Daksh said

Khushi didn’t reply, her gaze fixed firmly out the window. But for a brief moment, her lips twitched as if she was fighting back a smile.

The rain hammered relentlessly against the windshield as Daksh’s car slowly made its way along the slick roads. The headlights illuminated sheets of water falling in torrents, making visibility almost nonexistent. The atmosphere inside the car, however, was anything but calm.

Khushi stared out the window, her arms crossed, her face an unreadable mask. Daksh, meanwhile, hummed a tune as he drove, seemingly unaffected by the worsening weather.

As they approached a junction, they noticed flashing hazard lights and barricades blocking the road ahead. A uniformed officer waved them to stop. Daksh rolled down his window slightly, just enough to speak without getting soaked.

What’s the situation, officer? Daksh asked.

There’s been a major accident ahead, and with the rain and landslides, the road is completely blocked.  You’ll need to find an alternate route. The officer said.

Daksh sighed and rolled the window back up, turning to Khushi.

Well, that’s just perfect. Any ideas? Daksh asked

Khushi rubbed her temple in frustration.

Why does this always happen when I’m with you? Roads blocked, storms brewing—it's like I’m cursed! Khushi said

You mean I’m cursed, don’t you? Maybe I am a storm magnet. Daksh said

Khushi glared at him.

This isn’t funny. Khushi said

Oh, come on, Khushi. You’ve got to admit, it’s a little funny. You and I? Always managing to end up in the worst situations together? It’s like fate’s playing a prank on us. Daksh said with a grin.

Khushi sighed heavily, pulling out her phone.

There’s another route. It’s longer, but it’ll get us back to the city. Khushi said

Sure. Lead the way, Miss Navigator. Daksh said

Khushi gave him a pointed look before rattling off the directions. Daksh turned the car around, following her instructions as the rain continued to pour.

After nearly an hour of driving, the narrow road began to wind uphill, flanked by dense, towering trees. The atmosphere turned eerie, with the headlights casting long shadows that danced in the rain.

Daksh frowned, his fingers tapping on the steering wheel.

Khushi, are you sure this is the right way? It’s starting to look like the set of a horror movie. Daksh said

Khushi checked her phone, but the signal was dead.

This is the route I remember. Khushi said

Daksh glanced at her, amused.

You remember? Not exactly reassuring. Daksh said

Before she could retort, the car jolted to a stop. Daksh tried turning the key, but the engine groaned and refused to start. He tried turning the ignition, but the engine coughed and died. Frowning, he unbuckled his seatbelt.

Stay here. I'll check it out. Daksh said

Don't have to tell me twice. Khushi muttered, folding her arms.

Daksh stepped out, the rain immediately soaking him to the bone. He popped the hood, the heat from the engine steaming up into the cold night air. He fiddled with the wires and checked the connections, but it was clear the car wasn't going anywhere.

After a few minutes, he returned to the driver's side, dripping wet.

The engine's overheated. We need a mechanic. Daksh said

Khushi groaned, leaning back against her seat.

This is why I shouldn’t have taken your help. Khushi said

Daksh turned to her, his expression half-annoyed, half-amused.

My help? You’re the one who suggested this route, Miss GPS. Daksh said

I was trying to save us time! Khushi snapped.

Brilliant job. Daksh quipped, his voice laced with sarcasm.

If you’d kept driving instead of stopping every two seconds to crack jokes, maybe we’d be home by now. Khushi said

Ah, so it’s my sense of humor that’s to blame? Not the storm, the roadblocks, or your excellent navigational skills?  Daksh said, grinning.

Khushi opened her mouth to argue, then closed it, realizing they were both equally stuck. She sighed.

What now? Khushi asked

Well, we could sit here and bicker all night, or we could figure out a plan. Daksh said, leaning against the car

Khushi looked out at the dark forest.

Plan? What plan? We’re lost in the middle of nowhere, with no signal and a broken car. What’s next? Wolves? Khushi asked

Daksh laughed.

Wolves? Relax, Khushi. Worst case, we’re stranded until morning. Best case, I will manage to fix the car. Daksh said

Do you even know how to fix a car? Khushi asked skeptically.

Daksh smirked.

Not a clue. But I can Google it. Daksh said

Khushi couldn’t help the faint twitch of her lips at his optimism.

No signal, remember? Khushi said

Ah, minor setback. But don’t worry. I’ll keep you safe. You can trust me. Daksh said, shrugging.

Khushi scoffed.

The day I trust you, Daksh Vardhan, is the day the sun rises in the west. Khushi said

Daksh chuckled, stepping back into the car to escape the rain.

Well, if that’s the case, let’s just hope the west gets a good sunrise tomorrow. Daksh said

As the rain continued to pour and the forest around them grew darker, the two sat in the car, waiting for a solution neither of them could yet see.

*********

Thankyou 🥀