After Two Days — In the Car

Jharna had been discharged. She sat rigidly on the backseat, maintaining a noticeable distance from Ivaan, her hands folded tightly in her lap. Her eyes were hesitant, flicking occasionally toward him but never meeting his gaze. Meera sat in the passenger seat, quiet yet observant, while Amaan drove, his hands steady on the wheel.

Meera noticed Jharna’s discomfort and gave her a soft, reassuring smile, though she didn’t speak.

Flashback — ICU Moments

When Jharna first regained consciousness, Meera, Aashiya, Sagarika, Adhik, Vihaan, and Amaan had all rushed to the hospital after hearing Ivaan’s urgent call.

Ivaan had been frozen in place, silent, his entire world focused on her. Meera immediately went to Jharna, wrapping her in a comforting hug. “Thank God… you’re awake,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

But Jharna did not respond with the warmth of recognition. Instead, her voice quivered, cautious and confused.
“Who… who are you? And… who is Jharna?”

Shock rippled through everyone. Meera’s eyes found Ivaan’s, seeking answers, only to find him equally stunned.

Just then, the doctor stepped forward. “Hello, I’m your doctor. You had a brain surgery. Do you remember?”

Jharna shook her head, a soft, hesitant ‘no’.

Turning to Ivaan, the doctor explained, “Sir, as I mentioned, this is a normal side effect. After such surgeries, temporary memory loss can occur. Otherwise, she is fine. The operation was successful. I suggest you gently help her recall things—remind her of people, places, memories—but do not pressure her.” With that, he left.

Ivaan remained still, his eyes locked on hers, while Jharna mirrored his gaze, confusion etched across her delicate features.

Meera knelt beside her, calm and gentle. “Are you okay?” she asked softly.

Jharna nodded faintly, Meera drew in a deep breath and said haltingly, “Your name is… Jharna. And I am Meera… your elder sister. And this is Ivaan,” she gestured toward him, “your husband.”

Her eyes widened in sudden realization.

Flashback Ends

Back in the car, Jharna continuously shifted toward the window, trying to maintain as much distance from Ivaan as possible.

Meera lowered her gaze, giving the two some space. But then, with a quiet but deliberate motion, Ivaan reached over and gently pulled Jharna closer to him. She gasped softly, startled by his sudden closeness. Locking eyes with her, he said firmly,
“I’m not letting you go. Sit quietly right here.”

He released her hand, leaving it hovering in hesitation. Jharna swallowed hard, cheeks tinged with heat. Meera and Amaan exchanged small, knowing smiles.

Maurya Mansion

By the time they reached home, the mansion was alive with anticipation. Everyone had gathered, waiting for her.

As they entered the hall, Miransh dashed forward and wrapped Jharna in a tight embrace. Shock flitted across her face.

“Welcome back, Momma,” he whispered.

Jharna froze. “Momma?”

Miransh’s gaze shifted between her and Ivaan, thoughtfulness in his young eyes. “Yes… you’re my momma. You don’t remember, but you are. Don’t worry—I’ll remind you of everything.”

Jharna blinked, lost in the unfamiliar warmth of his trust. Then Palki ran up to her. Jharna’s confusion softened as she crouched down and hugged the little girl.
“This is also my daughter?” she murmured, marveling at the strange familiarity.

Adhik leaned toward Vihaan, smirking. “Thank God you don’t have kids yet. Otherwise, Bhabhi would hug them like this too.”

Vihaan smiled.

Jharna turned to Ivaan, her voice hesitant. “I… I don’t remember anything. Can you tell me… how many children do we have?”

A soft, collective chuckle rose from the room, and Ivaan exhaled slowly, steadying himself.

Jharna noticed the smiles and asked in confusion, “Why is everyone laughing?”

Palki stepped forward, explaining patiently, “I know why. You’re misunderstanding everything. I’m Palki, from Cape Town. I’m not your daughter. I am my mother’s daughter—and I am your best friend.”

“Best friend?” Jharna repeated, puzzled.

“Yes,” Palki said, smiling. “Let me introduce you to everyone properly.” She held Jharna’s hand and guided her around. “This is Ansh, your son,” she said, pausing beside Miransh. “This is best friend’s husband… I mean, your husband.”

Ivaan met her gaze, noticing her sudden shyness. He smiled softly at her reaction.

Adhik grinned and teased, “Bhabhi, do you know what happened the first time you met him?”

Jharna shook her head, completely bewildered.

Vihaan added, “You threw dirty water on him.”

“And tore up his cheque!” Adhik chimed in.

Shikha reminded, “And then made him cook for you.”

Miransh piped up, “And hit him with a stick!”

Meera laughed softly. “And you lovingly called him your Black Beast.”

Jharna’s eyes widened in shock as she turned to Ivaan, who was already blushing under the weight of the memories.

“I… I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Awww…” everyone said, the room filled with warmth and laughter as the tension melted away.

Amaan’s House

The dining table was beautifully decorated with dishes, every plate and glass set with care. Amaan gave a final check, straightened the napkins, and then glanced at his watch. Just then, the doorbell rang. He let out a slow breath and walked over to open the door.

Standing there was Aashiya. The moment he saw her, a smile unknowingly curved his lips. But his gaze shifted, and he noticed her parents behind her. Quickly pulling himself together, he greeted them politely and invited them inside.

Aashiya and her parents stepped in, their eyes scanning the neatly arranged home.

“Please, have a seat,” Amaan said warmly, as he moved to serve them fresh juice.

Her father accepted the glass but frowned slightly. “Serving drinks… isn’t that a woman’s job? You are a man, right?”

“Papa!” Aashiya quickly cut in, embarrassed.

But her father raised his hand to silence her. Aashiya glanced nervously at Amaan.

Amaan gave her a reassuring smile before calmly replying,
“Sir, I live here alone. And when a guest visits, it becomes a duty to serve them—whether it’s a man or a woman. With due respect, I don’t believe serving is a right that belongs only to women.”

Aashiya’s mother shifted uncomfortably and added hesitantly,
“Don’t take his words to heart, beta. On his behalf, I apologize.”

Amaan chuckled softly. “Oh no, aunty, please don’t. I didn’t feel offended at all. I understand—uncle is simply testing my patience. After all, when you’re giving away your daughter, it’s a parent’s duty to test the boy properly.”

For the first time that evening, Aashiya’s father’s lips curved into a smile.

Chhaya’s House

Chhaya was curled up on the sofa, munching popcorn as the movie played on the TV. Suddenly, her phone buzzed. She checked the screen, saw the number, and answered.

The moment she heard the voice on the other end, her hand trembled. Popcorn slipped from her lap, and tears welled up in her eyes. Her voice broke as she whispered,
“I’m coming…”

She ended the call in haste, wiping her tears, and immediately dialed Tia’s number.

Maurya Mansion

Inside her room, Sagarika aka Tia—was pacing restlessly. She muttered under her breath,
“This house never runs out of drama. First Jharna’s surgery, now her so-called memory loss… it just never ends.”

She sighed heavily. Just then, her phone rang. The screen flashed Chhaya.

Tia quickly peeked outside her door, making sure no one was nearby, then shut it tight before answering.

“How many times have I told you not to call me like this?” she hissed. “Unless I call first—”

But her words froze when she heard soft sobs from the other side.

“Chhaya?” her voice instantly sharpened. “What happened? Why are you crying?”

The more Chhaya explained, the more the color drained from Tia’s face. Her phone slipped from her trembling hand, hitting the carpet with a dull thud, as a single tear slid down her cheek.

***

Jharna stood silently in their room, her gaze fixed on the photographs of her and Ivaan’s wedding. She traced her fingers over the glass frames, perhaps trying to pull fragments of her lost memories back—but nothing came.

The sudden sound of the door clicking shut jolted her. She quickly turned. Ivaan stood there, his eyes locked on her. Her throat went dry, and she swallowed hard.

Her heartbeat quickened as he began walking toward her. Instinctively, she stepped back—one step after another—until her back collided with the cold wall. There was nowhere else to escape.

Ivaan closed the distance, bracing one hand against the wall beside her, trapping her in his presence. His eyes burned into hers as he asked softly, “Do you remember anything now?”

Jharna shook her head quickly.

He reached up, gently tucking her hair behind her ear. His voice dropped lower.
“And now?”

Again, she shook her head.

His fingers trailed down, brushing against her bare waist. His lips brushed close to her ear as he whispered,
“What about now?”

She shivered, her throat tightening, and shook her head once more.

His gaze dropped to her lips. He ran his thumb lightly across them, lingering, before murmuring,
“And now?”

Her lips trembled as she denied again, her head moving side to side.

Slowly, he leaned closer, his breath fanning her skin. She squeezed her eyes shut, her chest rising and falling rapidly, and swallowed hard. A sly smile curved his lips at her reaction.

His touch turned deliberate—he traced a slow line with his finger, gliding from her forehead, down the bridge of her nose, brushing across her lips, sliding along her neck, until it stopped just above her cleavage.

His voice was a husky whisper against her ear.
“No matter… I’ll make sure that from now on, you never forget a thing.”

And with that, he pressed a lingering kiss against her earlobe.

***

Two cars screeched to a halt outside the hospital. Chhaya and Tia stepped out, both pale with worry. The moment Chhaya reached Tia, she clutched her desperately and whispered through trembling lips,
“Everything is going to be fine, right? Nothing will happen?”

Tia forced steadiness into her voice, though her own heart was pounding.
“Don’t worry… nothing will happen.”

Without wasting another second, they rushed inside. A nurse approached briskly, handing them directions.
“Room number 26. First floor.”

Their feet flew up the stairs. Tia pushed the door open—only to freeze. Shock stole her breath.

Chhaya stepped in behind her, and the sight before her eyes shattered her. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she let out a gut-wrenching scream.
“Maa!”

She ran forward while Tia remained frozen at the threshold, her body refusing to move.

On the hospital bed lay a middle-aged woman. Her hand was tightly bandaged, her hair tangled in messy strands, and her sunken eyes rimmed with dark circles. Her fragile frame trembled; she looked nothing like the strong mother they remembered.

Chhaya collapsed beside her, hugging her tightly and sobbing.
“Maa… Maa, you’re okay, right? Tell me you’re okay!”

The nurse, clearly annoyed, muttered under her breath,
“She’s fine enough. But she’s been troubling us for years. This… this is your mother, Antra. Always trying to take her own life. Somehow she got hold of a blade and slit her wrist this time.”

Chhaya and Tia’s eyes widened in horror.

Antra stirred, her dazed gaze falling on Tia. Suddenly, she pushed against Chhaya’s hold and reached for her other daughter with trembling hands. Her voice cracked, words tumbling out in a feverish loop.
“Killed… killed…”

She repeated, louder, more frantic.
“Killed! Killed!”

Then, just as suddenly, she broke into a chilling, manic laugh that echoed in the sterile room—only to collapse into uncontrollable sobs a heartbeat later.
“Killed… killed!”

Tia’s throat tightened as tears welled up in her eyes. She clenched her fists, her mind burning with rage.

“Because of you, Ivaan… because of you, my mother has become like this. I swear I won’t spare you. You will never find happiness after making us suffer like this.”

Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, but behind them blazed a hatred that promised vengeance.

***

Sitara’s Note

While Jharna and Ivaan’s journey continues with tenderness, longing, and the ache of lost memories, another storm quietly brews in the shadows—Tia and Chhaya’s pain, and their mother’s broken state.

Sometimes life doesn’t wound us directly; it wounds the people we love, and that pain cuts even deeper. Tia’s hatred is not born in a moment—it’s layered with years of watching her mother suffer, years of helplessness. On the other hand, Jharna is taking her first fragile steps in a world she doesn’t remember, with Ivaan holding her hand tighter than ever.

Two threads, two battles. One wrapped in love, the other in vengeance.

Writing this reminded me that healing and hurting often walk side by side, and sometimes the same house holds both laughter and tears.

Thank you for walking with me through every twist and emotion of this story. Every time you pause with Jharna’s confusion, or ache with Tia’s rage, I feel like you are sitting beside me—feeling the story, not just reading it.

Tell me, whose pain did you feel more deeply in this chapter—Jharna’s loss, or Tia’s fury? I would love to know.

With the question, what did Ivaan do to Antra?
— Sitara Chandria