Chapter 5 – The Silence Between Us

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The mansion gate opened slowly, and the black car rolled in.

The guards stood straighter. The maids lowered their eyes.

They knew who had returned.

Aarohi stood at the top of the stairs inside the Rajvanshi Mansion. Her hands were clasped together, her face calm, her posture dignified. Dressed in a soft beige saree with her hair pinned neatly, she looked every bit the Rajvanshi bahu — graceful, powerful, and composed.

The door opened.

He stepped in.

Akhil Rajvanshi.

Four years had passed, but his presence still held the same weight. Dark suit, sharp gaze, unreadable expression. His eyes swept across the familiar space that once meant nothing to him.

And then, they landed on her.

She did not flinch.

She did not cry.

She did not smile.

She simply gave a small nod — polite, formal — and turned to Surya Rajvanshi.

“Dadu, I’ve asked Lakshya to prepare the files for the upcoming board meeting,” she said softly. “We’ll begin in the evening.”

Surya nodded, his eyes flickering between his granddaughter-in-law and the grandson who once disappeared like a shadow. “Alright, beta.”

Akhil stood quietly, absorbing the changes — the authority she held, the silent respect she commanded, the distance in her eyes.

Rudra walked toward him and gave a stiff nod. “Welcome back.”

Sonali said nothing. Kritika ran to her room.

Only Rehaan smiled awkwardly and muttered, “Bhai…”

But Aarohi… she didn’t say a word.

Later – Rajvanshi Group Headquarters

Aarohi sat at the head of the conference table. Executives filled the room. Lakshya stood beside her, flipping slides on the screen.

Akhil entered silently and took the empty seat beside her — the chair that once belonged to him. No one commented. No one dared.

She handed him a folder.

“These are the quarterly reports, signed MoUs, and current projects under review,” she said without meeting his eyes. “Let me know if you need clarification.”

Her voice was neutral. Professional. Not cold — never cold.

She was doing her duty. Still protecting his name, still building his empire, still sitting beside him like the world expected her to.

Akhil opened the file slowly. “You handled all this?”

Aarohi finally looked at him.

And in that look was everything — the pain, the years, the silence, the abandonment — all hidden behind her perfectly composed face.

She didn’t answer.

She didn’t need to.

That Evening – Mansion Balcony

The wind rustled the curtains as Aarohi stood looking at the sky. Below, the lights of the city sparkled — a city that had seen her break, rebuild, and now stand tall.

Behind her, footsteps approached.

Akhil.

He stopped a few feet away.

Neither spoke.

The silence was a wall neither dared to touch.

She didn’t ask why he left.

He didn’t ask how she survived.

The night held them both.

Two strangers. Once husband and wife.

She spoke finally, her voice calm — softer than a whisper.

“Please don’t tell anyone about the accident in London.”

Akhil froze.

His heart dropped.

She knew.

But she wasn’t blaming him.

She wasn’t demanding anything.

Just a simple request… to protect him.

And that shattered him more than any anger could.

She walked away before he could reply — just like he had, four years ago.

Their Room – That Night

Aarohi pushed the door open and paused.

The room… was exactly the same.

Same bed. Same curtains. Same pale yellow walls. Same untouched bookshelf.

Just like the night he had left.

As if the world had paused for four years — and no one dared to move a single piece of that frozen memory.

She stepped in slowly. Her fingers brushed lightly over the edge of the dresser, as if testing whether the past had turned to dust. It hadn’t.

She removed her earrings in silence, set her files down, and pulled out an extra blanket from the wardrobe.

Without a word, she walked to the couch at the corner of the room.

Not the bed.

Not even the edge of it.

The couch.

She laid down with her back to him, facing the window.

Akhil entered a few minutes later. He stood at the doorway, taking it all in.

The room that had waited.

The woman who had changed.

The silence that had only grown heavier.

He looked at the couch — at his wife, curled up with quiet grace and untold pain — and then at the bed he had left behind.

He sat on its edge, elbows on his knees, hands buried in his hair.

No words.

No explanation.

And between them, an untouched bed and four years of silence.

1. Will Aarohi keep guarding her pain in silence?

2.Will Akhil ever find the courage to ask for forgiveness?

3.how long can the Rajvanshi family pretend nothing has changed — when everything has?

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