The Raizada mansion’s bedroom was a battlefield of raw emotions, Khushi’s devastating claim—“I seduced Shyam… throw me out”—and Arnav’s thunderous roar still reverberating. The family stood frozen, their faces a mosaic of shock and guilt—Anjali clutching the doorframe, tears streaming; Nani trembling, her cane unsteady; Mami silenced, her hand tingling from Arnav’s grip; Payal’s jalebis scattered on the floor; and Akash, bewildered, seeking answers in the chaos. Khushi sat on the bed, her bandaged foot throbbing, her eyes fixed on the floor, her self-blame a desperate plea for escape from the torment of being the family’s burden.
Arnav’s voice, low and dangerous, cut through the suffocating silence. “Get out. All of you, GET OUT!” His chest heaved, his eyes blazing, daring anyone to defy him. His fury was a shield for Khushi, but beneath it, his guilt churned—his cruel words, “If you didn’t exist, none of this would have happened,” had broken her, pushing her to this self-destructive edge. He stood between Khushi and the family, his body taut, his gaze sweeping the room, commanding compliance.
Anjali’s breath hitched, her voice a whisper. “Chote…” She stepped back, her shawl slipping, her guilt overwhelming as Khushi’s claim echoed in her mind. Nani, her face pale, nodded faintly, guiding Anjali toward the door, her voice soft but firm. “Come, Anjali bitiya. Let them talk.” Payal hesitated, tears falling, her eyes on Khushi, but Akash gently pulled her away, his voice low. “Payal, let Bhai handle this.” Mami huffed, her sneer gone, muttering, “Hello hi, bye bye…” as she retreated, her unease palpable.
The door closed with a soft click, leaving Arnav and Khushi alone, the silence between them heavier than ever. Khushi’s bandaged foot throbbed, her heart pounding, but she refused to look at him, her self-blame a shield against the pain threatening to consume her. She wanted a breather, a moment to escape the suffocating weight of their pity, their shock, but the air felt thick, her chest tight.
Arnav turned to her, his eyes burning with a mix of fury and desperation. He crossed the room in two strides, his hands gripping her shoulders, not harshly but with an intensity that made her flinch. “What the hell are you saying, Khushi?” His voice was a growl, raw with anger and fear, his grip tightening as he leaned closer, his eyes searching hers. “You seduced Shyam? You want to be thrown out? What is this nonsense?”
Khushi’s eyes snapped to his, a spark of defiance igniting beneath her pain. She forced a smile, a mocking, cheerful facade that was so unlike her it chilled him. “The truth, Arnavji,” she said, her voice light, almost playful, but laced with a bitter edge. “The one you told me that day. Remember? If I didn’t exist, Shyam wouldn’t have betrayed Di, and she’d be happy.” Her words echoed his cruel accusation, each syllable a dagger aimed at his heart. “I just confirmed it. So do it—throw me out of your life. It’s what you want, right?”
Arnav’s breath caught, his guilt slamming into him like a tidal wave. Her cheerful tone, her mocking smile—it was a mask, a defense to hide the pain he’d caused, and it tore him apart. He released her shoulders, his hands clenching into fists, his voice low, ruthless. “I should throw you out of the house, right?” His smile was cold, a mirror of her defiance, but his eyes betrayed his anguish, the weight of his words crushing him.
Khushi’s smile widened, her cheerfulness a brittle shield. “Absolutely right,” she said, her voice steady, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “It’s what’s best for everyone. Di, Mami, you—everyone’s better off without me.”
Arnav’s jaw tightened, his anger flaring, fueled by her defiance and his own self-loathing. He stepped closer, his voice a dangerous whisper. “You think this is a game, Khushi? You think I’ll just let you walk away?” He paused, his eyes narrowing, a ruthless edge to his words. “What about our contract? Or have you forgotten? You’re bound to me, Khushi Kumari Gupta Singh Raizada.”
Khushi’s smile didn’t falter, her cheerful facade unwavering, though her heart twisted at the mention of their forced marriage contract. “Oh, it’s okay, Arnavji,” she said, her voice light, almost taunting. “Only one month left, right? Then I’ll be out of your life, contract or no contract.” Her words were a challenge, a desperate bid to push him away, to find the breather she craved, but they cut her as much as they cut him.
Arnav’s blood boiled, his anger surging at her flippancy, at the way she threw their bond back in his face. His hands clenched, his eyes blazing, every fiber of his being screaming to shake her, to make her see she was wrong, that she was his world. But beneath the rage, fear gripped him—fear that he’d hurt her again, that his words, his actions, would push her further into this dark place. He stepped back, his voice low, trembling with restrained fury. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily, Khushi.” He turned, storming toward the door, his heart pounding, knowing he had to leave before his anger spilled over, before he said something else he’d regret.
The door slammed behind Arnav, the sound reverberating through the Raizada mansion like a crack in its foundation. His words—“You’re not getting rid of me that easily, Khushi”—hung in the air, a vow laced with fury and fear. Inside the bedroom, Khushi curled tighter on the bed, her foot throbbing, her cheerful facade shattered. Tears spilled silently down her cheeks, her mocking defiance—claiming she seduced Shyam, taunting Arnav to throw her out, dismissing their contract—a desperate bid for a breather now leaving her hollow. The weight of her pain, Arnav’s rage, and the family’s shock suffocated her, her need for escape unanswered.
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