yet another bombshell

The soft glow of light filtering through the window pierces my eyelids, pulling me out of my restless slumber. I groan, turning to the other side, but sleep continues to elude me. Even counting sheep has failed to lull me into unconsciousness.

And then, there's the thought of Rakshit—sleeping just across the hall. It unsettles me. Strange, isn't it? How he went from being just a phone call away to living right next door… as my stepbrother.

Earlier this evening, Rakshit moved in with his mother, Niharika, and his younger sister, Aaliyah. Into our home—or rather, what is now our shared home. With fourteen bedrooms, our villa is spacious enough to accommodate an entire joint family with ease. And since we are a family now, it only makes sense that we live like one.

On the ground floor, my father's bedroom—now shared with sagarika—is situated, while we three "children" have been given rooms on the first floor. My bedroom has always been on this floor, but now, I have to share this space with Rakshit and Aaliyah. His room is directly opposite mine, while Aaliyah's room acts as a buffer in between.

And thank God for that.

The mere thought of Rakshit's room being adjacent to mine sends an inexplicable shiver down my spine. What if our walls were the only thing separating us? I can't even begin to fathom the whirlwind of emotions that would stir within me. This entire situation is unbearably awkward… yet undeniably real.

I toss and turn, wrestling with my thoughts, before finally sitting up in frustration. Sleep is a lost cause at this point. My throat feels parched, no doubt from all the anxious mumbling I've been doing to myself. Reaching for the water bottle on my nightstand, I find it empty—completely drained.

Of course. Just my luck.

I must have forgotten to bring a fresh bottle into my room tonight. Sighing, I push the covers off and get out of bed…

As I stepped out of my room, I hadn't even realized when my feet carried me to Rakshit's door. I lingered there for a couple of minutes, staring at the closed door. The lights were off. He was probably asleep. Of course, he would be—after the long, exhausting day we had. And yet, here I was, wandering the house like some restless ghost in the dead of night. What exactly was I trying to solve by standing outside his door like this? A mystery that didn't even exist? Stupid, right?

Truthfully, I had only meant to go downstairs to the kitchen, but Rakshit's room was in the middle of the way. And somehow, I hadn't been able to stop myself from pausing—just to check on him.

The house was cloaked in silence, the kind that made even the smallest sounds seem deafening. A dim night light cast a weak glow, barely enough to cut through the darkness, but sufficient to guide my steps carefully. I descended the stairs, my movements slow, measured.

But as I reached the kitchen, I froze at the doorway, my breath catching in my throat.

Rakshit.

Standing by the kitchen counter, occupied with something.

And he was shirtless.

No, correction—he was more than just shirtless. He was standing there in nothing but his boxers, his bare back facing me, muscles taut and sculpted, illuminated faintly by the soft light above the counter.

My heart gave an unsteady flutter.

God, he had such a great body. And the strangest part? I had never seen him work out a single day in his life. Not once had I caught him lifting weights or hitting the gym. Then how—how—did he have such an athletic physique? Sure, it wasn't the first time I'd seen him without a shirt, but something about tonight felt... different.

Maybe because it was my kitchen.

Maybe because it was past midnight, and he was the only thing standing between me and logical thought.

Maybe because I was blessing my eyes.

Oh my god heaven… I screamed internally.

I was enjoying this way too much.

Call me a pervert, but honestly? He looked like a work of art.

Thankfully, Rakshit was too engrossed in whatever he was doing to notice me standing there like a creep, gawking at him. His lack of awareness was a blessing—I could drink in the sight a little longer without interruption.

But my luck, as always, ran out faster than I'd hoped.

"Are you enjoying the view?"

Huh?

My breath hitched as his voice, smooth and teasing, sliced through the silence. I blinked rapidly, caught red-handed.

"How long are you planning to stand there, hmm?" he mused, amusement laced in his tone. "At least tell me so you can get a full, uninterrupted chance to admire my sexy body."

A slow, playful smirk curved his lips as he turned slightly, one brow arched in smug amusement.

Oh. My. God.

He knew.

He knew I had been staring.

How?! Did he have eyes on the back of his head? Was he some kind of supernatural being with heightened reflexes?

I scrambled to recover, clearing my throat as I averted my gaze. "W-What are you even doing here at this hour?" I deflected hastily.

"Could ask you the same," he countered, tilting his head.

I exhaled, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. "I was just getting water. My room doesn't have a bottle." With that, I quickly moved toward the fridge, desperate to escape his knowing smirk.

But just as I reached for the handle, I heard him murmur under his breath, low and flirtatious—just loud enough for me to catch.

"Wow... sexy ass."

I nearly dropped the bottle.

I was in a short-sleeved button-down shirt paired with shorts that barely reached mid-thigh. Basically, still in my night pajamas. Not that I got the chance to change—not that I ever bothered. I mean, come on, until now, it had just been me and Dad in this house, along with a few maids who disappeared into their staff quarters at night. Dad would be snoring away, and the furniture had yet to lodge a complaint about my outfit, so why waste time changing?

"Hah! What's with that face?" he smirked. "You're acting like this is the first time I've ever complimented you. Come on, admit it—you love my compliments."

"Compliment?" I scoffed, folding my arms. "Oh, so we're calling that a compliment now? That was straight-up perverted! Who in their right mind talks about someone's ass so openly?" I shot him a glare, though I could feel my face betraying me—because, let's be real, my cheeks were practically glowing at this point.

"Oh, so I'm the shameless one?" He tilted his head dramatically, giving me a slow, over-the-top once-over like some villain in a bad soap opera. "Then tell me, madam, what exactly were you doing just a moment ago?"

"I wasn't staring at you, okay?" I shot back, crossing my arms defensively. "It was just... weird. I mean, seeing someone—no, scratch that—seeing my best friend roaming around my kitchen in the middle of the night, practically naked (Nangu pangu ) That's it."

I rolled my eyes, hoping that my very logical explanation would cover up my very illogical behavior.

But of course, Rakshit wasn't going to let it slide so easily.

"Nangu pangu?" he repeated, raising an eyebrow before his lips curled into a smirk. "Mademoiselle, this is called 'sleeping comfortably.' It's not like I can crawl into bed wearing a three-piece suit, can I?"

He leaned casually against the counter, his tone dripping with amusement. "So, I'd suggest you start getting used to this view, because trust me, you're gonna see it again. And again. And again."

He winked.

I nearly choked on thin air.

"Coffee?" he asked smoothly, as if he hadn't just casually announced that my future involved repeated exposure to his semi-clad existence.

Ah yes, classic Rakshit—the master of saying the most outrageous things and then acting like nothing happened.

I scowled at him. Why this man?

Out of all the people in the world, this was the one fate decided should be my best friend?

"No, thank you. Keep your coffee to yourself. I need to sleep." My voice came out sharper than intended, frustration laced in every word.

Frustration—because I could never win against him.

Frustration—because, in just a few years, he had become everything to me.

Frustration—because no matter how much I wanted to, I could never share the feelings that had silently taken root in my heart.

Frustration—because the one person I loved with an intensity that bordered on madness… could never be mine.

And the worst part?

He had no idea.

Not even the faintest clue of the storm he had unknowingly become inside me.

People say rejection is painful. But what they don't tell you is that there is something far worse—

A love so caged within you that it never even reaches the one it was meant for.

A love that is destined to remain unheard.

Hai dil ko Teri aarzoo

Par main tujhe na pa sakun

Hai dil ki justaju

Par main tujhe na pa sakun

Main hoon shab tu subah

Dono jud ke juda

Main hoon lab tu dua

Dono jud ke juda

*******

Next morning

A New Dawn, A New Life—Congratulations, Radhya I mumbled to myself.

As I pushed away the warmth of my blanket and sat up, reality settled over me like a familiar weight—an unwelcome truth I had no choice but to accept.

A new day, a new beginning… but why did it feel like something inside me had been left behind in yesterday?

I don't remember when sleep finally pulled me under last night.

Maybe in the late hours, somewhere between exhaustion and denial, it claimed me.

But before that—before my body surrendered to the stillness of the night—I lay awake for hours, drowning in memories.

Memories of Rakshit.

Of us.

Each moment flickered through my mind like an old film, untouched by time, as fresh and raw as the day they happened.

I was eleven when I first saw him.

He and Aaliyah had joined our school that year, two new faces stepping into my world without warning.

He was a cute little thing... perhaps the last time I ever saw him uncertain, his nerves laid bare for all to see.

Because after that day, I never saw Rakshit hesitate again.

He grew into himself, into a presence so firm, so unwavering, that the boy he once was seemed like a ghost.

If he were to look back at his younger self now, I wonder—would he even recognize him?

He wore blue jeans and a yellow hoodie that day—an odd, almost mismatched combination.

And yet, he stood out.

As he introduced himself to the class, there was something painfully pure about him, something unguarded.

Aaliyah and Rakshit may have been twins, but they were nothing alike.

Not identical, not even close.

Rakshit was his mother's reflection—Sagarika's sharp features, her intense gaze, her quiet command of attention.

Aaliyah, on the other hand, was all warmth, a mirror image of their father, her eyes filled with laughter, her voice never still.

That first day, Rakshit sat beside me, hesitant, reserved, while Aaliyah filled every silence with her chatter.

It should have been just another ordinary school day.

But somehow, that day changed everything.

That day, without realizing it, the three of us had taken the first step into something far greater than just friendship.

We had stepped into each other's lives.

And there was no turning back.

A sharp knock on my door yanked me out of the ocean of my memories, dragging me—rather rudely—back to reality.

I groggily got out of bed and opened the door, only to be instantly engulfed in a bear hug.

"Good morning, love!"

My dad, beaming like a child who just got extra candy, held me tightly. His eyes sparkled with warmth and an unmistakable excitement.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked, cupping my cheek.

Okay, something was definitely up.

I squinted at him suspiciously. "What's going on? Why are you in my room this early? Is everything okay?"

"Of course! I just thought, for once, instead of your alarm, I'd be the one to wake my little girl up."

He was practically chirping with happiness. Like, over-the-top, floating-on-cloud-nine happy.

God knows why.

Or well... let's be honest, we all knew why.

I decided not to overthink it—mentally shoving the matter into my Not My Problem folder.

"Alright, now hurry up and get ready. Everyone's waiting for you at the breakfast table. Today, we're all having breakfast together as a family!"

His voice carried an excitement I couldn't ignore, and as he ruffled my hair, I caught the glow in his eyes. It was so obvious, I almost needed sunglasses.

"Okay, okay! I'll be down soon." I plastered on a smile.

"Don't take forever, beta!" he nodded happily before disappearing out the door.

Not wanting to be the reason people started calling for a missing person report, I sprinted to the bathroom.

In a record-breaking 10 minutes, I was out of the shower, and within 15, fully dressed.

Honestly, this might have been the fastest I'd ever moved in my life. But let's be real—I wasn't about to give anyone a chance to complain.

I threw on my favorite white shorts and blue crop top, stole one last glance in the mirror, and dashed out the door.

By the time I reached the breakfast table, everyone was already seated.

Which meant—I was the last one. Great.

The usually empty seat beside my dad was now occupied by Sagarika.

"Good morning, Radhya," she greeted me with a warm smile.

And just like that, all eyes turned to me.

"Good morning, Aunty," I replied, returning her smile before sliding into the seat next to Dad.

Aaliyah and Rakshit—who were sitting beside Sagarika—greeted me with teasing grins.

To be honest, I had always dreamt of a morning like this—where we'd all sit together, sharing laughs, cracking jokes, and just being a family.

But back then, I had imagined a very different version of what 'family' meant.

The reality, however?

Let's just say…it wasn't exactly what I had in mind.

The maid began serving breakfast, but my dad and Sagarika?

Oh, they were lost in their own eye-language conversation, completely oblivious to the world around them.

Oh, for the love of God.

This was getting embarrassing.

Sagarika was literally acting like a love-struck teenager.

Somebody, please, give them some privacy!

And it wasn't just me who noticed.

Rakshit and Aaliyah exchanged a look and tilted their heads toward me with identical teasing smirks.

Yep. This was awkward for them, too.

I decided the best course of action was to just look down and focus on my breakfast.

But before I could fully escape the secondhand embarrassment—

Ahem.

Dad cleared his throat dramatically, forcing us all to look at him.

And then, with the kind of gravity that made me nervous, he said—

"Radhya, Rakshit, and Aaliyah… You three are all grown up now."

Oh, NOW he realizes?

NOW, after spending an entire breakfast making goo-goo eyes at Sagarika?

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

"I mean, you're all old enough to take care of yourselves," he continued, clearly leading up to something.

And yet, while my ears listened to his words, my eyes were locked onto Sagarika.

Her face was practically glowing.

Excitement, happiness… and something else.

Oh no.

I knew that look.

It was the look of someone about to drop a bomb.

And I was right.

"So, we had originally planned our honeymoon for next week," Dad began, "but due to some circumstances, we had to prepon—"

Wait. What?

"We're leaving tomorrow for Bali."

BOOM.

Just like that—

Bomb. Blast.

My entire body went still.

Tomorrow?!

Which meant—

Which meant this house would just have… me and Rakshit.

Oh, and Aaliyah.

Not that it made a difference. That girl was barely ever home.

So basically—

JUST ME AND RAKSHIT.

HOLY. SHIT.