Page 6 of One Hellish Love

“Let him arrive first,” Shekhar continued softly. “There’s a lot he’ll need to adjust to here. Let him settle in, and then we’ll talk about Uncle Verma’s daughter, okay?”

Savitri forced a smile, but inside, doubt gnawed at her.

“Shekhar... I hope everything will go smoothly while Rudra’s here. You know why I’m worried.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. Shekhar’s expression darkened, understanding exactly what she meant.

“Does she know he’s coming?” Savitri asked, her voice now laced with tension.

“Not yet,” Shekhar admitted. “I tried to tell her yesterday, but she was so excited about the new designs she’s working on for the company. I didn’t want to ruin her mood.”

Savitri’s temper flared.

“Shekhar! She has no right to be upset if my grandson is coming home. This ishishouse. He can return whenever he chooses.”

Shekhar sighed deeply.

“I know, Daadi. But you have to understand—it’s not going to be easy for either of them. They’re both still haunted by what happened 11 years ago.”

Savitri’s face tightened.

“Tell her, Shekhar. I don’t want her to be shocked when she sees him at the door.”

Without another word, Savitri left the kitchen, leaving Shekhar standing in frustrated silence. Daadi had never truly understood Kashish’s pain. That was why they had always kept their distance, why their interactions remained cold and formal. Savitri and Kashish only saw each other during the morning prayers—a ritual Savitri insisted the entire family attend. Every morning, Anjali and Kashish would take turns circling the aarti thali before the idol. Kashish had resisted going to the temple at first, angry at God for taking her father from her. It had taken her four years to stop hating God, though Shekhar always felt her faith was only superficial. Her resentment hadn’t fully faded.

As Shekhar stood there, lost in thought, Ram Prasad, the housekeeper, approached.

“Bhaiyya, Rudra Sir’s room is ready. Everything has been arranged as per his preferences.”

Shekhar nodded. “I’ll check it myself. Rudra’s not the type anymore to ask if he needs something.”

Ram Prasad looked confused, but Shekhar was right. Rudra never asked for anything, not anymore. He would either make do with what he had or find a way to get it on his own. The same independence that once made him thrive now threatened to keep him isolated, even in the place that should have felt like home.

*****************

The cab rolled to a stop inside the gates of Raheja Mansion, and Kashish quickly made her way toward the living room. Her steps faltered when she saw Chanda, the loyal servant who had cared for her since childhood, carrying a tray filled with ladoos. Kashish blocked her path.

“Mausi, no one told me we were making ladoos today. I would’ve helped,” she said, reaching for one.

But Chanda stopped her gently.

“They’re for Rudra,” she replied.

The moment she heardthatname, Kashish froze, pulling her hand back as if she had touched fire. Her eyes flashed with anger. His name pierced her heart like a dagger, no matter how many years had passed.

“His flight must have landed by now. Everyone is preparing for his arrival,” Chanda continued, the joy in her voice oblivious to the storm brewing in Kashish’s chest.

Chanda caught the shift in her expression and placed a comforting hand on Kashish’s cheek.

“Don’t let it eat you up, beta. This is his house too. Sooner or later, this day had to come.”

Sooner or later. Kashish had known that. Butnow? Not when she was still trapped in this house, forced to live under the same roof as him. Not when she had no way to escape. Her breath quickened, and without another word, she turned and fled to her room, slamming the door behind her as if she could shut out the reality crashing down on her.

Ten minutes later, Shekhar found out from Chanda that Kashish knew about Rudra’s arrival. He felt a pit of worry open inside him. He rushed to her room, knocking softly, but there was no response. He pushed the door open, revealing a dark room. He flipped the switch, and his heart sank at the sight before him. Kashish was sitting on the floor, knees pulled to herchest, her back pressed against the edge of the bed. She wasn’t crying, but her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and only she knew how hard it was to keep them from falling. She looked as fragile as she had 11 years ago, broken and hollowed out by the same unresolved pain.

Shekhar knelt beside her.

“I’m sorry, Kashish... I can’t stop him. There’s nothing I can do to make this easier for you.”

Kashish remained silent, her gaze distant, lost somewhere far beyond his reach.

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