Aradhya- The Warrior

Author’s POV

Jashoda cupped Aradhya’s face with both hands, her touch warm, her voice soft but insistent.

“Aradhya beta, you’ve looked pale since yesterday. Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling well? You always stay so quiet about yourself.”

Aradhya lowered her eyes, her bag strap slipping slightly down her shoulder as she shifted uncomfortably. “Maa… really, it’s nothing. Just a little tiredness. I’ll be fine.”

But Jashoda wasn’t letting it go. She gently tugged the bag off Aradhya’s shoulder and placed it aside on the nearby console. “Work can wait. Your health cannot. Do you understand?”

Aradhya pressed her lips together, unsure how to argue without worrying her more. The truth was, her body still felt weak, though she hated to admit it aloud.

Behind them, Rishav stood with his arms folded, his sharp gaze unreadable. He hadn’t spoken since his mother entered, but Aradhya could feel his presence like a shadow at her back.

Jashoda glanced once at him, then turned back to Aradhya. “You’re in this house now. You don’t have to carry everything alone. If you’re unwell, you tell me—or at least your husband. Hmm?” Her tone carried the weight of gentle reprimand only a mother could manage.

Aradhya managed a small nod, her throat tightening. “Okay, maa.”

Jashoda’s face softened, and she kissed Aradhya’s forehead with a tenderness that reminded her of things she hadn’t felt in years—safety, belonging, care.

For a fleeting second, Aradhya’s eyes flickered toward Rishav. He was still watching her, silent, but his expression was softer now, as though his mother’s words had echoed his own unspoken ones.

And in that moment, Aradhya realized—whether she liked it or not—both of them weren’t going to let her fight her battles by pretending she was fine.

Rishav slipped on his blazer, car keys in hand, but before leaving he walked toward Jashoda first. He bent down, touching her feet with quiet respect. “Bless me, maa,” he said softly.

Jashoda’s palm instantly rested on his head, her lips curving with pride. “Khush raho, beta.”

Rishav straightened, but instead of just walking away, he leaned closer and pressed a gentle kiss to her temple. Jashoda smiled wider, her heart swelling—her son was still the same boy who never forgot to fold his hands before her, no matter how busy or powerful he became.

Then his eyes shifted to Aradhya. She had been standing quietly by the side, watching the little exchange with something she couldn’t name—a pang, a longing, maybe even a touch of envy she hated to admit.

Rishav stepped toward her. Instead of offering the same formal gesture, he simply pulled her into his arms in front of his mother, his chin resting briefly on her hair. The sudden closeness made Aradhya stiffen, her breath catching.

Leaning just enough for only her to hear, his lips curved near her ear. “Bye, jaan… try not to miss me too much,” he whispered, mischief glinting in his tone.

Before she could even react, he pressed a quick kiss on top of her head—soft, deliberate, claiming. Aradhya’s cheeks heated instantly, her fingers tightening around the edge of her dupatta as she tried to mask the storm inside her.

When he pulled away, she dared a glance up at him, only to find his eyes already locked on hers, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. And just like that, he turned and walked out—leaving her with her racing heartbeat, and Jashoda shaking her head with a knowing smile.