The Agnihotri mansion was never quiet. With children’s laughter echoing down the corridors, the aroma of Anjana’s cooking wafting from the kitchen, and his brother Abhay’s booming voice carrying through the living room, silence was rare. Yet tonight, Siddharth found himself alone in his room, seated by the large window, staring into the darkness beyond.

His heart was louder than the house.

Five years.

That was how long it had been since Shreya Maheswari walked into his life—like a sunrise he hadn’t expected. 

He still remembered the day as if it were yesterday. Drishti, his best friend since school, had asked him to immediately fly over to her husband’s ancestral home in Jhodpur, as she landed in some trouble.. Typical Drishti, following trouble wherever she goes. Drishti got married to Shravan Maheswari, from the Maheswari royal family, in one such troublesome drama.

Siddharth had known Shravan even before Drishti’s marriage to him, as his elder brother Abhay and Shravan had been best friends since their college days. Shravan has been to their home many times, but that evening was the first time he truly stepped into the Maheswari ancestral palace. 

And that was when he saw her—Shreya Maheswari.

Back then, she was still in her twelfth grade, full of dreams and innocence, while he was just a college boy, brimming with ambition. He knew it wasn’t the right time. And the family connections and friendships held him back. His heart may have leapt at the very sight of her, but his mind had whispered caution. He had goals to chase, responsibilities to shoulder. And she… she deserved a man who was ready, not one still finding his way.

So, Siddharth had buried the storm in his chest. For years, he let their bond grow quietly, wrapped in light conversations and stolen glances, each moment saying more than either dared to confess.

Now, as he sat in his room, the weight of five silent years pressed against him. 

The house around him was alive—Abhay and Vaiga talking about their children, Shraddha and Dhruv planning their weekend visit with their kids, his parents discussing the family and their adorable grandbabies. Life was moving forward for everyone. And he knew it was time his own life did too.

It was time for Siddharth Agnihotri to act!

Tomorrow, he will tell Shreya. It’s time for the next step of their life.

****

The dining table at the Agnihotri house was a noisy affair every morning. Plates clinked, spoons clattered, children’s voices rose and fell, and in between, Anjana’s soft scolding and Niranjan’s firm remarks held everything together like threads in a tapestry.

This morning, however, Siddharth sat among them with his head bowed, idly pushing his toast around his plate. His mind was far away, though his family was anything but subtle in noticing.

“Why is chachu staring at his plate as though it’s the TV?” Little Kriti asked, swinging her legs from her chair, her big eyes fixed on Siddharth.

“Maybe he’s dreaming of tv cartoons!” Before Siddharth could respond, Vidyut piped up, grinning mischievously.

The table erupted in laughter. Vaiga, who was glowing in her pregnancy, tried to keep a straight face as she reached for her son’s glass. “Vidyut, don’t tease your chachu. Finish your milk first.”

Vidyut scrunched his nose. “Milk is boring.” He quickly nudged his glass towards Kriti. “Di, you drink it. You like boring things.”

“Arrey!” Kriti gave him a mock glare and, in a flash, grabbed a piece of buttered toast from his plate instead. “Then I will also take this. Sharing, na?”

The children’s giggles filled the room. Vaiga pressed a hand to her forehead. “These two will drive me crazy before the new baby even arrives.”

“Siddhu. You have been staring into that toast for ten minutes. Planning to propose to it?” Abhay chuckled, leaning back in his chair. 

“He looks as though he is carrying the whole world on his shoulders. Siddhu, is something troubling you?” Even Anjana, usually the one to shield her son, couldn’t help smiling. 

Siddharth’s throat tightened. He knew they were teasing in good humor, but his nerves only grew heavier. How could he tell them that today—finally—he was going to confess to Shreya? They know nothing about his feelings. But he knows that they will never stand in his way of happiness. 

“Nothing, Ma,” he muttered, forcing a smile. “Just… work.”

But as the laughter and chatter resumed around him—Kriti chasing Vidyut around the table for stealing her paratha, Abhay trying to play referee while Vaiga reminded everyone she wasn’t supposed to be stressed—Siddharth felt a strange sense of peace. This was his family: noisy, meddling, full of love. And if all went well tonight, Shreya would become a part of this chaos too.

His heart thudded at the thought.

The breakfast table gradually began to clear. Vaiga, looking pale and tired, pushed her chair back with a soft smile. 

“I will go sit on the couch for a while,” she murmured, one hand resting protectively on her growing belly.

Abhay immediately rose from his seat, his protective instincts stronger than ever. 

“I will come with you,” he said, not waiting for her to protest. He followed her into the living room, leaving the faint hum of their conversation behind.

The moment they were out of earshot, Anjana’s eyes shifted to Siddharth. Her smile faded, replaced by a shadow of worry as she leaned closer, lowering her voice.

“You are not going to bring home some stranger and call her your wife like your brother once did, are you?” She asked, her tone gentle but laced with the ache of old memories.

Siddharth froze. He knew exactly what she was thinking. Everyone in the Agnihotri family still bore the scars of Abhay’s first marriage.

Kiara.

Her name alone carried a heaviness that settled in the air. Abhay had fallen blindly, without truly knowing the storm she carried within. Kiara had been an orphan, starved of love and belonging. And when she finally found Abhay, she clung to him with a desperation that suffocated everything else. She didn’t want a family. She only wanted him.

At first, they had all tried—welcomed her with open arms, showered her with affection. But Kiara refused to share Abhay with anyone, not even his own parents, not even his siblings. Her love had turned into a cage, and Abhay—who loved his family as fiercely as his wife—was torn apart.

He had even tried moving out, hoping the distance from his family would soothe Kiara. But nothing changed. Her obsession only grew, her demands more relentless, until their marriage spiraled into a darkness too painful to watch.

The end was nothing short of tragic. Kiara’s life had slipped away in childbirth, leaving behind baby Kriti—and a father too buried under guilt to even look at his daughter. For almost a year, Abhay had lived like a ghost, avoiding his child, punishing himself for the life that had been lost.

And then, when none of them had expected it, Vaiga entered their lives. She too had been scarred by a broken marriage, carrying her own wounds. Their union had not been a fairytale beginning—it was a marriage of circumstance, tied by destiny. Yet love, patient and quiet, crept in where neither had sought it. And in time, Abhay and Vaiga had found in each other the healing they both so desperately needed.

Siddharth’s chest tightened as the memories rolled through his mind. He hadn’t realized he had been staring into space until Anjana’s voice broke through softly.

“Siddhu?”

He blinked, meeting her eyes. They held the same love and protectiveness that had sheltered him all his life.

“No, Maa,” he said quietly, his voice steady but carrying the weight of his decision. “I am not going to marry anyone recklessly. But… I am going to do something very important. Maybe the most important step of my life.” He paused, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I just need your blessings.”

“Siddhu, you know my blessings are always with you. Whatever your heart tells you, follow it. And when you are ready to share it, your Maa will be here to listen.” Anjana’s expression softened. She reached out, cupping his face with both hands, her eyes misting.

“Thank you, Maa.” Emotion swelled in his chest. He leaned forward, kissing her cheek tenderly. 

Her smile returned, gentle and knowing, as though she already sensed where his heart was leading him.

A/N

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