Veins of Power, Threads of Fate

The wind howled outside, rustling the neem trees around Ekta's small Udaipur home. Inside, her world felt just as stormy.

She stood by the window, arms wrapped tightly around herself. A mug of untouched tea had gone cold in her hands. The house was still-too still-even with Adrit sleeping in the next room. The silence felt suffocating. Her heart was a knot of fear, memories, and something she hadn't let herself feel in months-grief.

It had been a year since she left Dev Raghuvanshi. A year since she had closed the chapter on that painful marriage and begun the quiet, exhausting journey of rebuilding herself.

And yet, here she was, shaken again.

Because he had come back.

A Glimpse of the Past

That afternoon, Dev had shown up at the doorstep unannounced.

The moment their eyes met, time stood still.

He looked older, more tired. His eyes-once cold and calculating-now carried a storm of regret. Ekta didn't speak. She just stared.

Adrit had come toddling to the door, curious about the man. And then-he said it.

"Papa?"

Dev's breath hitched.

Ekta's throat closed. She gently pulled her son back, her gaze unwavering.

"What do you want, Dev?" she asked quietly.

"I needed to see you. See him. Once. Please."

Her voice was like ice. "You lost that right the day you broke me. The night you took Nitya's name while..."

Dev dropped his eyes.

"I was drunk, I was angry-"

"You were cruel," she cut in. "And you said nothing when Nitya poisoned everyone against me. You knew I was drowning and you stood there, watching."

She held back her tears with every ounce of her will. "I begged you, Dev. Not for love-but for dignity. And you couldn't even give me that."

Dev's Regret

"I didn't know you were pregnant," he whispered.

"And if you had?" she asked bitterly. "Would you have changed anything? Would you have loved me instead of her?"

Silence.

That told her everything.

Her hands trembled. "You see him once today, Dev. But after this... don't come again."

Dev's eyes welled, but he nodded. He looked at his son for a long moment, as if trying to etch the memory of the boy's face into his soul.

Then he turned and left.

Ekta collapsed on the sofa after closing the door. Her body shook with silent sobs.

She was exhausted.

Of surviving. Of pretending she was whole.

Rohan

That night, Rohan returned home from his hospital shift, finding the lights dim and the house quiet. He knew something was wrong the moment he stepped inside.

He found her curled up in the corner of the sofa, arms around her knees, eyes red, cheeks damp.

He sat beside her without saying a word.

After a long silence, she whispered, "He came."

Rohan's jaw clenched.

She didn't look at him. "He saw Adrit. He... looked at him like he mattered."

"And did that hurt you?" Rohan asked softly.

Her lips trembled. "Everything hurts. All the time. I'm just good at hiding it."

Rohan leaned forward and gently reached for her hand. She didn't pull back.

"I won't ask you to forget him," he said. "But I will ask you to let someone in who sees you-not just as a mother, or a broken wife-but as Ekta. The real you."

She looked at him, and for the first time in a long while, her heart beat differently. Not with love, not yet.

But with hope.

Rohan smiled gently. "You don't have to be strong with me. You just have to be real."

Ekta didn't reply.

But for the first time that day, she leaned her head on someone's shoulder-and let the ache in her chest soften.