Chapter 19

Few days later.

The haveli was unusually quiet that day.

No clinking of bangles, no soft laughter in the corridors, no trace of Aaradhya’s presence. The maids moved cautiously, sensing a tension in the air that none dared disturb. The garden flowers outside bloomed like nothing had happened—yet something had shifted inside the house, inside hearts.

The golden afternoon sun dipped lazily over the rugged Rajasthani landscape as dust swirled gently across the courtyard of the haveli. The distant sound of a jeep engine approaching slowly caught the attention of a few household workers, who paused what they were doing to glance toward the massive entrance gate.

Within moments, the jeep rolled to a halt just outside the main archway. Stepping out were three men — dignified and familiar. Raghvendra Rathore, Aaradhya’s father, clad in his traditional white dhoti-kurta and safa, exuded silent authority. Beside him were her cousin brothers, Arjun and Rajveer, both tall, sharp-eyed, and visibly concerned.

A maid quickly ran to inform Rajeshwari Devi, who was in the inner courtyard supervising kitchen arrangements.

Rajeshwari’s brows furrowed as she adjusted her dupatta and walked out with the grace of a queen. Her eyes narrowed slightly in curiosity as she saw her samdhiji and the boys walk in.

“khamma ghani, Rajeshwari ji,” Raghvendra greeted with respectful warmth.
("Greetings, Rajeshwari ji.")

“Ghani khamma , Raghvendra ji. Sab theek?” she asked, trying to gauge the reason behind the unexpected visit.
("Greetings, Raghvendra ji. Is everything alright?")

Raghvendra looked around before speaking. “Actually, we’ve come to take Aaradhya with us for a few days. She’s been here for over a month now, and... we felt it's time she visited us for a while.”

Rajeshwari’s smile thinned. “Aise achanak, sab theek hai, na?” she asked, her voice neutral but her eyes sharp.
("Is everything truly alright?")

“Waqt sab theek kar deta hai, Rajeshwari ji. Bas thoda waqt chahiye mari chori ko,” he replied calmly.
("Time heals everything, Rajeshwari ji. My daughter just needs a little time.")

Rajeshwari hesitated. Her instinct told her something was wrong—something deeper than just a family visit. She didn’t argue, not openly. But after nodding politely, she turned and walked toward Aaradhya’s room in silence.

Inside, Aaradhya was folding her dupatta absent-mindedly. Her face pale, lips pressed together, she had sensed the storm approaching since morning. Vijayendra still hadn't returned from Udaipur, and her mind had been unsettled ever since she overheard a maid whispering about her father’s jeep at the gates.

A soft knock at the door broke her daze.

“Beendani,” Rajeshwari Devi called, stepping in.
("Daughter-in-law,")

Aaradhya looked up and rose immediately, adjusting her odhani over her head. “Ji... Maasa?”
("Yes... Maasa?")

“Thare baapusa aur bhai aaye hain. Tumhe le jaane,” she said quietly, her voice laced with restraint.
("Your father and brothers are here. They want to take you with them.")

“Tu jaana chahe hai?” she asked.
("Do you want to go?")

Aaradhya nodded, looking down.

Rajeshwari stepped closer. “Mat jaa, Aaradhya. Ghar mein sab kuch theek ho raha hai. Tumhare hone se haveli mein roshni hai. Tu chali javegi toh... sab khamosh ho jaayega.”
("Don't go, Aaradhya. Everything is getting better at home. Your presence brings light to this haveli. If you leave... everything will fall silent again.")

Aaradhya swallowed, her voice cracking slightly as she replied, “Maasa... main jaana chahe hoon. Main... main toot chuki hoon. Main nahi bhool paa rahi, Vijayendra ne jo kiya... Rani ko yahan laa kar...”
("Maasa... I want to go. I... I'm shattered. I can't forget what Vijayendra did... bringing Rani here...")

She looked away as her eyes welled up.

“Mujhe samajhne ke liye thoda waqt chahiye, Maasa. Sirf thoda sa,” she whispered. “Main bas... apne dil ke zakhamon ko sametna chahti hoon. Apne aap ko sambhalna chahti hoon.”
("I need some time to understand everything, Maasa. Just a little. I just... want to gather the pieces of my heart. I want to hold myself together.")

Rajeshwari looked at her, eyes softening with unexpected pain. She stepped forward and gently cupped Aaradhya’s cheek.

“Main samajhti hoon, Beendani. Kabhi kabhi... waqt sabse zaroori dawai hoti hai. Par waapas jaldi aana,” she whispered.
("I understand, dear. Sometimes... time is the most necessary medicine. But come back soon.")

Aaradhya nodded, unable to speak as her heart swelled with emotion.

Then she walked out with her mother-in-law beside her. After Rajeshwari ordered a maid to pack her things, Aaradhya’s steps were measured, her eyes carefully avoiding the halls she once walked beside her husband. Her father and brothers waited respectfully near the jeep.

A short while later, the maid came down with Aaradhya’s bag in hand.

Aaradhya turned to Rajeshwari once more before turning toward the jeep. “Maasa… aap apna aur sabka dhyaan rakhiye.”
("Maasa… please take care of yourself and everyone.")

Rajeshwari gave her a subtle nod, blinking back emotions. “Jab tak tu waapas nahi aati, yeh haveli adhoori rahegi.”
("Until you return, this haveli will remain incomplete.")

Aaradhya nodded slowly, her heart aching beneath the surface. The decision to leave wasn’t easy—yet it felt necessary. Her hand clutched the edge of her dupatta as she turned toward the waiting jeep, eyes heavy with unshed tears. But just as she took the first step, the voice her heart had been silently yearning for pierced through the silence like a blade.

“Aaradhya!”

She froze in place.

She didn’t turn. She didn’t have to. She would recognize that voice even in the deepest slumber.

Vijayendra’s boots echoed on the stone pathway as he strode toward her, his chest heaving with frustration and barely concealed pain. He had returned just in time to see her leaving, slipping away like a dream turning into smoke.

“Where are you going?” His voice was demanding, yet trembling with vulnerability.

“To my maternal home,” she replied softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

“For how long?” he asked, already dreading the answer.

““Jab tak dimaag aur dil dono saaf nahi ho jaate.” She replied.
(Until both my mind and heart are clear.)

His jaw clenched at her words. His fists followed. He felt as though everything was slipping beyond his control.

"Kiski izzazat se tu jaa rahi thi?" He asked angrily, but before she could answer, his mother tried to intervene.
(With whose permission were you going?)

“Vijay…”

But he didn’t even turn. His voice was sharp but respectful.

“Maasa, mai apni lugai se baat kar raha hu" he replied.  (I’m talking to my wife.)

The air felt heavy as silence fell between them. Raghvendra stepped forward, concern written all over his face. "Jamai sa"(Son-in-law…)

“Maaf kariyega” Vijayendra interrupted without looking away from Aaradhya. “jaanta hu ki aap maare , lugai ke babasa se , lekin ish waqt maara maari lugai se baat karna jyada zaroori se. .”

(I beg your pardon,I understand you are my wife’s father, but right now, talking to my wife is more important than anything else)

With a deep breath, he turned to Aaradhya. “Andar chal”(Come inside.)

He didn’t wait for her response. His hand grasped hers—not harsh, but firm—and he led her back into the haveli.

Once inside, the storm in his chest erupted.

“Kaha jaa rahi thi tu?” he asked again, his voice lower, more dangerous.(Where were you going?)

“Mayke,” she repeated.(To my maternal home)

“Kyu?” he demanded, eyes narrowing." (Why?)

She looked up at him, the strength behind her lashes trembling. “I… I needed time to—”

“Bas” he snapped, cutting her off. “Bahut ho gaya se thaara natak”(Enough!Enough of your drama

She flinched.

“Thaare ko rani se dikkat thi na?Toh nikal diya ushe bahar? Ab kya chahiye tane? ”(You had a problem with Rani, didn’t you? I threw her out of this haveli for you. What more do you want?)

Tears brimmed in Aaradhya’s eyes, but they didn’t fall. Not yet. Her voice quivered, but her words were firm.“Mai tumhari gulam na hu. Aur mujhe Rani ko nahi, khud ko samajhna hai… ki main itni asurakshit kyun mehsoos karti hoon aap ke paas hote hue bhi.”
(I am not your servant. It’s not Rani ,I need to understand—it’s myself. I need to know why I feel so unsafe, even when I’m near you.)

His nostrils flared. Her words pierced him deeper than she knew. Still, he fought back with anger instead of honesty.

"Bas bahut ho gaya se? Yeh kya natak lage rakha hai tune itne din se. Tu koi pahele aurat na se jiske pati ne doosri aurat layi ho, samjhi. Aur agar tune mujhe theesh na pahuchayi hoti aur apni zimmedariyan theek se nibhayi hoti toh mai ush Rani ko kabhi Lata hi na. "
(Enough is enough. What kind of game have you been playing these past days? You're not the first woman whose husband brought another woman into the house. And if you hadn’t hurt me and neglected your responsibilities, I wouldn’t have brought Rani here at all).

He stepped back, frustration brimming in every movement. "Lekin maanana padega , thaare me bahut Himmat aa gayi se na ? Ki tu maari gair majudagi me ghar chod ke jaa rahi thi? Bol kisase puch ke ja rahi thi? " He asked.
(But I must say—you’ve become bold, haven’t you? Leaving the house in my absence? Tell me—whose permission did you take before going?)

"Baba sa maine lene aaye the aur maine..Maa..maasa se puch tha," She said, trying to stop her tears.
(My father came to take me… and I asked Maasa)

He moved closer, his tone sharp. "Thara mard mai hu. Maasa na. Toh thaare faisale lene ka adhikar bhi sirf mujhe se aur kisi ko bhi na. " He said ,tightening his hold on her making her hiss and his hold loosened on her
(I am your husband. Not Maasa. So the right to make decisions about your life lies with me and no one else.)

His grip tightened slightly on her wrist, enough to make her hiss making him immediately loosened it.

"Tu bahar jaa aur mana kar de apne baba sa ko ,ki tu kahi nahi jaayegi. " He said, turning his back toward her , making her shocked
(Now go outside and tell your father that you will not be leaving.)

She stared at him, shocked. "Par mai jaana chahti hu" she said, making his hand clenched.
(But I want to go…)

His shoulders stiffened.

“You will not go. That’s my final decision.”

But when her next words came, it was as if the ground beneath him shifted.

“I need to go, Thakur-sa. Please… don’t stop me this time.”

For a brief moment, his mask cracked. His face fell. He looked like a man at war with himself—torn between pride and desperation, pain and possession.

He didn’t argue.

Didn’t plead.

Didn’t beg.

Instead, he slowly nodded, his hands clenched tightly by his side, as though the gesture alone kept him from falling apart.

"Agar yeh tere aakhri faisla se toh maara bhi aakhri faisla sun le, ki agar aaj tu gayi, toh phir mai tujhe lene tab tak na aauga Jab tak tu khud na aana chahegi. " He said making her shocked
(If this is your final decision,” he said, voice hoarse, “then hear mine too. If you leave today… I won’t come to bring you back—not until you decide to return on your own).

The words struck her like thunder. Her breath caught, but she nodded.

She turned and began walking toward the exit—each step slower than the last, heavy with a strange mix of dread and relief. Her mind screamed for freedom, for clarity… but her heart—it still craved him.

Just as she crossed the threshold, she heard him whisper.

“Aaradhya, mat jaa… kyunki main tere bina jeena bhool gaya hoon.”
("Aaradhya, don’t go… because I’ve forgotten how to live without you.")

Hearing his broken voice, her heart pained, but she didn’t stop. Couldn’t. She needed it. She needed time.

The jeep waited by the gate. She stepped in, heart aching with every mile it would soon place between them.

As the engine roared to life and the haveli gates slowly opened, she looked out the window one last time.

The mansion loomed behind her—both her palace and her prison.

And up in the shadows of the upper corridor, Vijayendra stood silently. Watching her leave.

Saying nothing.

Not yet.

From now on I won't be available till 27th of May as I have my semester exam. So there will be no update until then.
Lots of love to you all
Love you all
Itsyourblackrose