A father 's regret,son's guilt

The tension in Rajveer's study thickened, his words hanging heavily in the air, soaked in years of regret and silent torment. He no longer spoke as a father, but as a man who had lost everything, his voice trembling with the weight of his pain.

"Rana, you think you understand him, but you don't. Not really." Rajveer's voice cracked, every word cutting through the silence like a knife. "You saw him as the boy shattered by Meera's death... but what you never saw was how that night completely destroyed him. He was only twelve. Just twelve. And in one moment, his world was torn apart."

Rana had seen Rajveer break before—a brief, fleeting crack in his otherwise solid demeanor when Meera's death left an unhealable wound. But now, Rajveer was breaking down entirely. His fury seemed endless, fueled by a pain that had never been acknowledged, only buried deeper with each passing year.

"I should have protected him," Rajveer continued, his eyes blazing with guilt. "I thought, maybe if I sent him away... maybe that would protect him. Keep him safe. I never wanted him to turn out like me. Never. I fought with everything I had to keep my sons from following the same violent path I had walked."

His voice cracked again, the truth of his words gnawing at him. "Arav, I sent him to the police force. Karthik, I sent him to the army. I thought it would give them purpose, something noble to fight for. But Dhruv... Dhruv was different."

Rajveer's fist clenched, his knuckles white as memories from that fateful night surged back to him. "When Meera died... when Dhruv killed her murderer with his own hands... that was the turning point. He was just fifteen, Rana. A child forced to become a man in the blink of an eye."

Rana sat frozen, struggling to process Rajveer's confession. He had known about the murder, of course, everyone had. But hearing it from Rajveer's mouth felt different. Rajveer wasn't just speaking of the loss of his wife anymore; he was speaking of the loss of his son—the boy he had tried so desperately to protect, only to see him consumed by violence.

"He didn't hesitate," Rajveer whispered, voice thick with the memory. "No mercy. Just cold, unfeeling rage. It terrified me. It terrified all of us."

The silence that followed was deafening, thick with years of unspoken pain. Rajveer breathed deeply, his chest rising and falling as though he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. "I couldn't keep him here, Rana. I couldn't keep him in this house, surrounded by enemies, surrounded by bloodshed. He was becoming someone I didn't recognize. Someone I couldn't control. So I sent him away. To a place where he wouldn't be tainted by the violence of our world. To keep him safe from my enemies, yes, but more importantly, to save him from becoming a killer. But... it didn't work."

Rana's expression shifted, the gravity of Rajveer's words finally landing. "You sent him away to protect him... but it didn't work?"

Rajveer's jaw tightened, a new wave of anger threatening to spill over. "No, it didn't. He became distant. Detached. Like a stone. He shut us all out, Rana. Arav, Karthik—none of us could reach him. He became a ghost. The boy I once knew, full of life, was gone. And I... I don't know if I'll ever get him back."

Rana's mind raced as Rajveer's words took shape. Dhruv hadn't just grown cold; he had become empty. His soul had been hollowed out, leaving a version of him that was darker, harder. Dhruv had entered a world where even emotions were buried so deep no one could find them.

But then, something changed in Rajveer. His entire posture softened, and a distant memory seemed to shift the air in the room.

"Then something happened," Rajveer murmured, almost to himself. "Something I never expected."

Rana's curiosity spiked. "What happened?"

Rajveer's eyes softened, almost reverently. "He met her."

Rana blinked, momentarily thrown. "Her?"

Rajveer's gaze became distant, and for the first time in what felt like forever, a tenderness bloomed on his face. "Shruti," he whispered, as though her name itself was sacred. "She changed him. I don't even know how, but she did. For the first time in years, I saw my son... come back to life. He smiled. He laughed. He cared again. She... she made him human."

Rana's thoughts scrambled, unable to fully process the weight of what Rajveer was saying. "She made him human?"

Rajveer nodded, his voice thick with emotion. "Yes. She was the one person who ever made Dhruv feel alive again. After everything he had been through—the killing, the cold, heartless version of himself that he became—he was lost, Rana. Completely lost. I saw it. The fire in him had died out, replaced by a chilling emptiness that scared me. He shut himself off from everyone, from everything."

Rajveer paused, a shadow crossing his face as he continued. "But then she came into his life. Shruti." The name slipped from his lips like a prayer. "She didn't fear him. She didn't back away like everyone else did. She saw through the walls he'd built around himself. She was the one person who didn't run. She didn't treat him like a monster."

Rajveer's voice softened further, and for the first time in years, a true warmth spread across his face. "I didn't understand it at first. How could she? How could anyone break through to him when no one else could? But with Shruti... she made him feel again. She brought warmth back into his heart. The Dhruv I remembered, the boy who once laughed, who loved—he was still in there."

The room was quiet now, the weight of Rajveer's words settling between them like a heavy blanket. Rajveer breathed deeply, his face shifting to one of sorrow and realization. "Do you know how rare that is, Rana? For someone like Dhruv to find something—or someone—that can make him feel again? To bring him back in the way Shruti did? She became his anchor. His reason to live."

Rana's mind reeled, as he tried to picture this version of Dhruv—the cold, emotionless man he knew—transformed by someone like Shruti. The idea felt foreign, like it didn't belong with the Dhruv he had always known.

"She was everything to him," Rajveer continued, voice breaking slightly. "He became fiercely protective of her. I've never seen him like that, Rana. Not for anyone. He would have gone to war for her. I've seen him kill without hesitation, but for Shruti... for her, he would destroy anyone who even thought of hurting her. I've seen it in his eyes. It's not about vengeance anymore. It's love."

Rajveer clenched the edge of his desk, his frustration boiling over once more. "I don't know what happened, Rana. After that damn mission, everything went wrong. We lost contact with the outside world for two months... Dhruv's been a wreck since. He believes she left him. And that thought—he's losing his mind over it."

Rana's brow furrowed as he stepped forward, sensing the depths of Rajveer's pain. "What do you mean, 'she left him'?"

Rajveer's face twisted with a mixture of anger and confusion. "She disappeared. Along with her brother. I don't know what happened between them, but they were together before he left. He came back, desperate to make things right with her—apologizing, trying to fix it—but when he went to her house... it was empty. No trace. Everything was gone. The house, the family, everything. He thought she left him. He believes he hurt her."

Rajveer's voice cracked as he uttered the final words. "He hasn't been the same since. He's consumed with guilt. He's searching for her... like a man possessed. I don't know what's broken inside him, but it's tearing him apart."

Rana's eyes softened as he stepped closer, his gaze filled with sympathy for the man who had always stood as a pillar of strength but was now crumbling under the weight of his son's suffering.

"We'll find her," Rana said, his voice steady despite the chaos that enveloped them. "Whatever happened between them, we need to find Shruti. We need to uncover the truth, for Dhruv's sake. He's not just suffering for what happened, but for what he believes happened. That guilt... it's eating him alive."

Rajveer's eyes darkened as he sank into his chair, the burden of his son's pain pressing down on him. "I don't know where to start, Rana. She's gone. Just gone."

Rana stood tall, the determination in his voice unshakable. "We'll find her. We'll bring her back."

The room fell silent again, the weight of what was at stake settling in between them. Rajveer's voice cracked once more as he muttered, "She changed him, Rana. And now she's gone. I don't know if I'll ever get him back."

The room, once filled with the clatter of memories and words, now echoed with the painful

And in that moment, something unbearable tore through the silence. The pain that filled the room wasn't just Rajveer's. It wasn't just Dhruv's. It was something deeper, something more. The pain of a love lost, of a soul shattered—of a life that had been torn apart and could never be put back together.

Tears slid across Riya's closed eyes, tracing silent paths down her cheeks. The room, once warm with the comfort of shared memories, now felt stifling, each word about Dhruv cutting into her heart. She could feel the weight of his pain, heavy and relentless, settling inside her like an anchor.

Every mention of his suffering, the silent battles he had fought alone, wrapped around her with an intensity that left her breathless. She wanted to scream, to escape the ache gnawing at her chest, but there was no way out. The more they spoke of him, the deeper the wound inside her seemed to grow. Her hands trembled in her lap, fingers curling into fists, as if holding onto the last fragments of control she had left.

It wasn't just his pain she felt—it was as if his hurt had become her own. Every moment of vulnerability they shared about him felt like it was tearing through her soul. The sting of his loss, the years of silence, bled into her, intertwining with her heart until she couldn't tell where his pain ended and hers began.

Her breath caught in her throat, her body aching to reach out to him, to hold him, to say the words that could heal the wounds she now shared with him. But she was trapped in the silence, drowning in a sea of helplessness. Her tears continued to fall, silently, as the storm inside her raged—an ocean of emotions she couldn't escape, no matter how much she wished she could.