The Wait - Chapter 29

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CHAPTER 29


DHRUV SINGH RAIZADA


Images of Khushi unconscious, carried away by Arnav, haunt my thoughts. I've become the very villain they always believed me to be. Sharing those pictures of Khushi and my affair with the family, exposing our past, was a desperate attempt to hurt Arnav and Khushi, to disrupt the happiness they had found in each other. I wanted to shatter the perfect image of Arnav, the one everyone adored.

Jealousy, like an insidious poison, had seeped into my soul since childhood. The family's perpetual comparisons, their unspoken preference for Arnav, had fueled my resentment. I grew up in the everlasting shadow of the 'perfect' twin, always the 'bad boy' in their eyes. It was a label I tried to defy, but the judgments persisted.

When I got the news of Khushi marrying Arnav, I couldn’t let Arnav once again wining over me. I couldn't stand the thought of being the lesser one once again. That’s why I returned to the family, with a hope to unravel their happiness, to break Khushi and Arnav’s marriage being my only motive. But seeing her with Arnav, happy and content, reignited the flames of my bitterness. Khushi's determination to move on from me and choose Arnav over me even during today’s confrontation we had, shattered my delusions. Knowing the family will once again see my imperfections in trying to ruin Arnav-Khushi’s marriage, I resorted to the only weapon I thought could wound them — the revelation of our past. Little did I realize, it was a weapon that would ricochet, injuring me far more profoundly.

Now that I had exposed my past affair with Khushi through those pictures I sent to them, in my rage and guilt, the only way I had to stop my suffering was by self-inflicting pain on me that could relieve my guilt in some way. Least did I know Khushi would fight me to save my life and get hurt instead. I still recall her painful eyes when the knife slit her wrist and the scream of Arnav who barged in the house that very moment and took her away. For what felt like an eternity, I was lost in a void of confusion, unable to grasp the gravity of the situation. Khushi’s unconscious state triggered a state of helplessness in me. Shame coursed through my veins, and regret cast a heavy shadow over me.

The hospital— that's where I needed to be. When I realized I had to check on Khushi, ensure she was okay, Nani returned home, and as if she sensed my intention to leave, she stopped me from going anywhere. In that moment of frustration, a torrent of emotions surged forward. I released the pent-up pain that had festered within me since childhood. My resentment towards Arnav, always the golden boy, always right and good, surged to the surface. It was a bitter confession, a desperate attempt to make someone understand the torment that had plagued me.

Words spilled out, a release of years of bottled-up emotions. The weight on my chest lifted, but in its place was an emptiness, a realization that I'd bared my soul in a moment of vulnerability. Nani listened, her eyes holding a mixture of surprise and understanding. The truth hung in the air, and for the first time, someone was there to witness the storm raging within me.

I sit in the dimly lit room of AR Mansion, shadows of regret and guilt closing in on me. The fact that Khushi is in the hospital because of me fails to mask the stench of my actions. A stab of pain pierces my heart as a reminder of the damage I've inflicted on the woman who once loved me. The room echoes with my silent sobs, mirroring the chaos within. I want to undo the damage, to turn back time and erase the pain I’ve given to Khushi. But time, like spilled ink on a pristine canvas, refuses to retreat.

And then there's Nani, her voice a soothing balm to my tormented soul. Her lap becomes a refuge, a sanctuary where I can unburden my aching heart.

"It's all my mistake," she says, her words a fragile admission of her unwitting role in my suffering. "How could I not see that my grandson was facing all this from childhood? I never thought you were jealous of Arnav only because we praised him more than you."

Her tears join mine, merging into a river of shared remorse. In this moment of vulnerability, the generational gap crumbles, leaving behind the rawness of our emotions. I'm no longer the 'bad boy,' and Nani is not the unknowing matriarch. We are just two souls, entangled in the complexities of familial expectations and the heavy burden of our past.

As Nani strokes my head, her touch a blend of comfort and apology, I feel like I am equally wanted by my family, just like they have always wanted Arnav around them. The weight of years of resentment, the burden of being the perennial 'wrong one,' begins to lift. In that vulnerability, I find a sliver of redemption, a chance to rebuild the fractured relationships around me. But the road to redemption is steep, lined with the shards of broken trust and wounded hearts. And as I sit there, soaked in tears and regret, I know that my journey toward healing has just begun.


KHUSHI ARNAV SINGH RAIZADA

The sterile scent of the hospital engulfs me, a constant reminder that from the past twenty-four hours I am still here. I’m sitting on the bed, still weak, my body aching from the confrontation with Dhruv. Arnav hasn't left my side since then, he’s been here watching over me even though Mom had asked him to return home for a while to rest. His presence is a comforting balm, but the turmoil within me refuses to subside.

Yesterday after I returned to consciousness, the Raizada family supported me, condemning Dhruv's reckless attempt to shatter the foundation of my marriage with Arnav. Shyam, my brother, expressed his disappointment, questioning why I kept Dhruv's identity a secret. He knew about my affair but he didn’t know it was with Dhruv. Anjali, di offered apologies on behalf of her brother Dhruv, acknowledging the insensitivity he displayed in handling the situation. I appreciate their support, but I can't shake off the echo of Dhruv's bitter revelations. He spoke of being constantly judged by his family and friends, forever living in the shadow of his twin brother Arnav. The resentment he grew for Arnav is palpable, and I feel the weight of responsibility to bridge the chasm that separates them.

Despite the warmth of the family's embrace, I can't escape the reasons behind Dhruv's pain. It lingers in the air, a haunting reminder that the brothers’ reconciliation is not going to be a simple task. The desire to mend the broken ties between the brothers gnaws at me, urging me to address the root cause of their discord.

However, every attempt to broach the subject with Arnav since yesterday have been met a stern resistance. His eyes, usually soft and understanding, harden at the mere mention of Dhruv. While I wanted to speak about Dhruv to him, Arnav kept urging me to rest and recover. But I'm determined to erase the resentment that has festered for far too long between the brothers.

The aroma of the soup fills the room, a comforting scent that mingles with the tenderness of my mother's touch. Maa, sits beside me, spoon-feeding me the warm soup. Despite the nurturing act, my stomach rebels, and I halt her, pleading for respite.

"Maa, enough, I don't want more," I implore, my voice a feeble protest against her motherly insistence.

"Khushi, but you haven't had much. You need to take medicines too. Have two more spoons at least. Then I won't force you," she gently persuades, her eyes reflecting concern.

I sigh, a reluctant surrender to her persistent care. With a heavy heart, I concede to one more spoon of soup, under her watchful gaze. Arnav reenters the room, completing the discharge formalities

"And two more for me, please," he playfully requests, taking the bowl from Mom and attempts to feed me. I let out a soft groan, but comply, knowing that this simple act brings a spark of joy to his eyes. Mom chuckles, sharing a glimpse of my childhood with him.

"This is how I used to feed Khushi in her childhood. Now that you both are going to stay with us for some days, I am going to feed my daughter the same way till she recovers her health," Maa declares with a warmth that tugs at my heart.

But I am suddenly stunned by her words. I stop her from feeding me further.

“What do you mean we are staying with you for the next days?" I inquire, my gaze shifting between Arnav and my mother. "Aren't we going to Shantivan from here?"


Their exchanged glances unveil a truth I hadn't anticipated. Arnav takes the lead, a protective determination in his eyes. "No, we are not going there. I don't want you to stay around Dhruv anymore," he asserts, his words cutting through the air with finality.

A wave of emotions crashes over me as Arnav's decision sinks in. Mom excuses herself, leaving us to speak in private.

"You are not being reasonable, Arnav," I say, my voice carrying the weight of disbelief and frustration. "How can you even think we can stay away from our family?"

"We don't have a choice. And everyone understands that. I've already spoken to Nani and Maama and Maami," Arnav replies, his tone firm and resolute.

"You did?" I snap, incredulous. "Arnav, what is wrong with you? How would they feel knowing we want to stay separate from them?"

"You think I like the idea of staying away from my family? Of course not, Khushi. But staying under one roof with Dhruv and seeing him targeting you again is a strict no."

"Dhruv is not the problem, Arnav. It's his—"

"Don't," Arnav interrupts me, taking a step forward. "I told you, we would never speak about him again. We are going to your home until we decide what to do next."

I'm shocked at Arnav's determination to avoid Shantivan, our home. He attempts to cup my face, seeking to comfort me, but I pull away.

"This is not the man I love speaking," I reply. "The Arnav Singh Raizada who loves his family so much can never think of staying even a day without them."

"You are my family too," he refutes. "And after what happened yesterday, I don't want to give him a chance to hurt you again. Is it that difficult to understand, Khushi?"

I shake my head in dismissal.

"How easily you read what I'm going through and what's best for me, Arnav. Only because you love me. But then how could you miss reading what your twin brother Dhruv had been facing since your childhood?" I ask, frustration coloring my words. "How could you not do anything to reduce his suffering?"

Arnav goes blank as I continue, my emotions pouring out.

"You have loved everyone from your family, and I know that doesn't exclude Dhruv either. He and you shared your mother's womb; you know him better than anyone else in this world, Arnav. Then how could you not see what he was going through all these years?"

Arnav stares at me, seemingly clueless about the depth of my concern for his twin brother. The room is filled with the weight of unspoken truths, and I await his response, hoping that my words will make him understand everything I am trying to say.

ARNAV SINGH RAIZADA

Khushi's words hang in the air, and I'm left grappling with the weight of the revelation she's laid bare.

“Khushi, you're not making any sense," I finally voice my confusion, my tone tight with uncertainty. “What are you talking about? What have I not done for Dhruv. If he is hell bent in messing up with his life, despite my attempts to guide and bring him back on the right track, how is this my fault?”

“He doesn’t need guidance, Arnav, he just needs equality which no one so far could ever give him. And the most painful thing is that you and your family are not even aware what he has been going through from all these years.”

Equality? I don’t understand. Khushi continues to explain.

“The biggest reason of Dhruv’s resentment towards you is the judgement of people towards you both.” Khushi implores, her eyes searching mine for understanding. "You and Dhruv, you were born together, shared the same upbringing, but the world treated you differently. From the very beginning, people compared, and judgments were passed."

I furrow my brow, struggling to grasp the essence of her words.

"Dhruv wasn't treated the same way you were. He was always in your shadow, and the comparisons between you two were inevitable," she explains, her voice softening. "People, even your own family, unintentionally fueled his resentment by constantly highlighting the differences between you two."

A flicker of realization crosses my face, and I try to absorb the weight of her revelation. "But that's not my fault. I never asked for any special treatment."

"I know, Arnav. It's not about blaming you. It's about understanding the impact these comparisons had on Dhruv," she continues, her words digging deeper into the wounds I hadn't known existed. "As you were showered with praises, Dhruv felt neglected and judged. The love and appreciation you received only intensified his struggles."

I run a hand through my hair, a sense of helplessness settling in. Is that why Dhruv always had a problem when I was given something more than him? Like when I handled the AR Business and he was considered not ready for it, obviously Dhruv was hurt. That’s why he never showed any interest in our business and continued to stay in London.

"I had no idea. Why didn't Dhruv ever talk to me about this?"

"Maybe he did, in his own way, but none of you understood," Khushi replies, her voice gentle. "But the resentment festered over the years, and now it's become a deep-seated wound. Yesterday was just a culmination of the pain he's been carrying all this time."

I look away, my thoughts in turmoil. "I never meant for this to happen. I thought we are brothers. I love him, Khushi. When everyone pointed a finger at him, I tried to cover up out of love, not to show them in return that I was the sensible one amongst the two, or portray my goodness. It was just out of love whatever I did for him, including ignoring his mistakes all the time.”

“But sometimes, love alone is not enough to heal wounds that run so deep," she says, reaching out to touch my arm. "Dhruv needs understanding and acknowledgment, not blame. Maybe by staying away for a while, we can give him the space to confront his own demons. But who knows it might turn the opposite. It might distance him from you, from the family even more. Is that what you want?”

Silence hangs in the air, the weight of her words sinking in. I grapple with the conflict within me, torn between the love for my family and the realization that there are scars I hadn't noticed before.

"Staying at Gupta house is not a solution, Arnav. We have to work through this together," Khushi assures me, her hand gently squeezing mine. "We need to understand and address the pain that has been ignored for far too long.”

She is right. If that’s what has been haunting Dhruv and is the reason behind everything that he chooses to do going against me, then I have a lot to address to at the moment and going home will be the right decision.

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

Shantivan

After the discharge from the hospital, I drive Khushi straight home, informing the Gupta family and Di and Shyam that we would be returning to Shantivan only to take care of the pressing matters. The familiar walls of Shantivan surround us as we step through the entrance, but the atmosphere feels charged with an unspoken tension as I lead Khushi inside. She is still weak but good enough to walk with my support. Nani is the first to notice our return. Surprise etches lines on her face as she welcomes us, her eyes probing for an explanation to the sudden change in our plans.

“Arnav? Khushi?” she quickly meets us half way in the living room. Maami too who had been sitting with her, follows. "You had told us that you would be going to the Gupta house," she says, her eyes questioning.

I'm lost for words, unsure how to explain the change in plans. Instead of responding to Nani's inquiry, I divert the conversation, a sense of urgency gripping me. "Where is Dhruv?"

Nani glances away for a moment, hesitation flickering across her face before she answers, "He's in his room."

I nod.

“How are you feeling now Khushi?” Nani asks Khushi who smiles sweetly back.

“Nani, I’m fine. And now that we have returned home, I’m perfectly alright.”

Khushi presses Nani’s hand in assurance before I take her along to settle her in our bedroom. As she slows down at the stairs, I don’t wait for her to climb the rest. Leaning down I carry her in my arms and lead her upstairs. Had things been normal and yesterday’s incident between Khushi – Dhruv hadn’t happened, tomorrow we would have flown to Scotland for our honeymoon. But things happen for the best. And now I know where my focus should be next.

We get into the bedroom and once I help Khushi freshen up and lie down on the bed, I kiss her forehead.

“I’ll be back in some time.” I tell her.

She grips my arm tight meeting my gaze, before lowering my head and kissing my cheek. She knows where I am going and why.

“I know you’ll mend things between you and him again.” She says.

I sigh, drawing strength from her words before kissing her head and then make my way to Dhruv’s room, a heavy unease settling in my chest. The door is slightly ajar, and I knock before pushing it open. What I find on the other side leaves me stunned.

Dhruv is hunched over his suitcase, methodically packing his belongings.

"Dhruv," I say, my voice low.

He looks up, surprise and apprehension written across his face.

“Why are you packing?" I ask, my confusion growing.

Avoiding eye contact, Dhruv continues his mechanical movements.

"I can't stay here, not after what happened."

A wave of realization crashes over me, understanding the weight of his words.

“I heard Nani and everyone talking about your plans to stay at Gupta house for a few days,” he adds continuing to pack. “You don’t have to go anywhere. If anyone should, it is me.”

“What made you even take a decision like this?” I ask, making my way to him but he doesn’t stop packing his bags.

“Now don’t tell me you have a problem with that too? Or did I have to take your permission before deciding where I want to go and why?”

Now he stops packing and finally meets my gaze, a mix of pain and resentment in his eyes. It’s in his eyes, the pain of being on the wrong side all the time, not because of his deeds, but because we never realized the reason behind him always turning to the wrong side.

“It wouldn’t make a difference as is to anyone here,” he adds with a pained smile. “I haven’t done anything for the family to be proud of me either. You have,” he swallows. “you deserve to stay here more than I do.”

I swallow controlling my own emotions watching tears in his eyes.

“I don’t love Khushi,” he accepts. “At least not the way you do.” He chuckles. “Last night, I never intended to cause her harm. Yet, I've hurt her, hurt you, and our family, Arnav. It seems to be a pattern, doesn't it? I've consistently inflicted pain on everyone around me. I don't deserve this—being a part of your lives. The longer I stay, the more I'll wreak havoc. Maybe I never should have come back. Perhaps it's best if I disappear from your lives forever."

"Forever?" I retort sharply. "Do you even know how to spell 'forever'?" I ask, a flash of a shared memory surfacing.

Dhruv falls silent, and we both recall our time in third grade when he struggled with English dictation. For him, the spelling of 'forever' was 'Four-ever.' The family had to arrange a special tutor to help him with English and boost his grades.

"You remember?" he asks, and I nod in acknowledgment. "Huh," he shakes his head, a self-deprecating smile playing on his lips. "Even in studies, I could never compete with you."

As he utters these words, I grip his shoulder firmly. "There was never a competition," I retort. "We're brothers, Dhruv. If you felt that way, you could have talked to me."

"Talk to you and what?" he challenges. "What would you have done? Once again, played the role of the good boy, explaining on my behalf, asking people not to judge or compare me to you? Even doing that would have made them see you as sensible and me as the perpetually complaining brother, Arnav. It's a good thing I never took that route."

I'm shocked by the depth of his pain, realizing how he had bottled it up within him for years.

"But now, as I reflect on it all, you know what I feel?" he continues. "You, the family, or anyone else who judged and compared me to you weren't at fault. It was my fault. I failed to fight my own battles. I should have stood up the first time someone compared us and made me feel inferior. I should have fought back then. If I had, maybe you and I wouldn't be standing on opposite sides today."

"I'm not standing against you, Dhruv," I admonish. "I never have. You're misunderstanding me. If it's your fault for not fighting your battles, then it's my fault too for perhaps not letting you fight them. I was always there to cover up your mistakes, thinking I was protecting you. Now I realize it only fueled bitterness within you. I'm sorry for that."



Dhruv's eyes glisten with moisture as I offer my apology. Gripping his shoulders firmly once again, I take a step closer, desperation threading through my voice.

"Dhruv, we can find a way to mend things. Leaving won't solve anything."

He shakes his head, determination etched on his face.

"It’s too late for that,” he replies. “This has been a long time coming. I appreciate your concern, Arnav, but I need to find my own path. Staying here will only make things worse."

"Fight your battles staying here with us, not by leaving, Dhruv," I assert, my words ringing loud and clear. "Your absence has hurt all of us these past months. The family loves you. Going away like this will hurt them, you, and, most importantly, it will hurt me for the rest of my life that I am the reason behind all your pain and suffering over the years. We are twins for a reason, Dhruv. Don't snatch my brother from me. Please don't."

As the weight of my words sinks in, Dhruv breaks down. Tears stream down his face, and he looks down, unable to find the words to respond. I embrace him, stroking his back gently. The hug remains incomplete for a few seconds, and in a murmuring tone, he manages to express his remorse.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I am sorry for everything, Arnav… I am sorry."

Dhruv's apology hangs in the air, his words a somber acknowledgment of the tangled emotions that have defined our relationship. As he cries, I hold onto him, letting the weight of the moment settle between us.

"It's okay, Dhruv," I whisper, my voice barely audible. "We can work through this together. You're not alone."

He finally completes the hug, and I feel the warmth of a brotherly embrace that transcends the pain of the past. We stand there, locked in a moment of shared vulnerability, as the echoes of our history reverberate through the room. The journey toward reconciliation has only just begun, and I brace myself for the challenges that lie ahead. Bound by the unbreakable bond of brotherhood, I’m determined to rebuild what was fractured, and hopeful that, in time, wounds will heal, and the echoes of the past will fade away.



To be Continued.

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