Chapter 18 : Rishton Ke Bhi Roop Badalte Hain

The heavy atmosphere of the morning shifted slightly as Rudra and Palki pulled into the driveway of the Wadhwa Mansion, arriving just as the others were stepping out of their vehicles.

The group gathered near the entrance, the exhaustion of the previous night at the hospital visible on everyone's faces. While Shayaan, Maysha, Ishaan, Shaira, and Mayank began to make their way inside the grand foyer, Maira stood her ground, motioning for the others to wait.

"We can't delay this," Maira stated, her voice steady despite the fatigue. She looked at the boys, her expression grave. "You need to speak to your parents about Maysha. We have to get both families on the same page immediately."

She turned to Palki, placing a hand on her arm. "Go with Ayush. He’s going to need the moral support of his sister when he breaks the news. Rudra, you’re coming with me and Maan to his house."

Rudra frowned, stepping closer to Maira. "Maira, look at you. You’ve been at the hospital since yesterday evening. You need to rest, and frankly, you and Ishaan need to talk. Let us handle the parents."

"Maysha is the priority right now," Maira replied firmly. "I feel responsible for the position she’s in. Mine and Maysha's differences—and the distance between Ishaan and me—will have to wait. I’m not stepping back until this is settled."

Rudra sighed, knowing better than to argue when she was this determined. "Fine. But at least go upstairs, freshen up, and take your morning tablets. We’ll wait for you in the living area before we head out."

Maira nodded and retreated to her old room. The shower helped wash away some of the hospital grime, and after changing her salwar, she headed back downstairs. On her way to the door, she crossed paths with Ishaan. He had just finished breakfast and walked right past her, his gaze fixed straight ahead, not uttering a single word.

The silence was deafening, but beneath Ishaan’s cold exterior, his heart was a chaotic mess of conflict. This wasn't about pride; it was the raw, unhealed sting of betrayal. Ever since Maira had finally revealed her hidden past with Maan—a past that had triggered Maan's current, drastic path of vengeance—the foundation of their relationship had been shaken. He was struggling to reconcile the woman he loved with the secrets she had kept, and the weight of it all was simply too much to process.

Even though the distance between them felt like an ocean, his eyes instinctively darted to her belly for a fleeting second—a silent, subconscious check on their unborn baby. He was terrified for Maira's health and the immense strain she was putting on herself, but the words of comfort remained trapped behind his hurt.

Ignoring the sting of his silence, Maira quickly packed a breakfast to go. She could feel his gaze on her from the corner of his eye, his unsaid concern radiating through the room like a heavy pulse. She knew he was worried—for her and for the life growing inside her—but she couldn't let herself be distracted by their fractured peace.

As the group finally piled into the car, Maira caught Maan’s gaze. She leveled him with a sharp look, pointing two fingers at her eyes and then back at him—a silent promise that she wouldn't be taking her eyes off him for a second.

The drive to the Luthra Mansion was short, but for Ayush, every kilometer felt like a mile. When he and Palki finally stepped through the grand entrance, the familiar warmth of the house felt heavy with the secret they were carrying.

Preeta and Rishabh were already at the dining table with Shristi, Sameer, Siraj, and Suhana. Seeing the siblings enter, Preeta’s face lit up with a mix of relief and concern.

"Ayush! Palki! You’re finally here," she said, rising slightly. "Come, sit. We were just starting. There’s plenty for everyone."

"We’ve already eaten at the Wadhwas, Mom," Palki said softly, her voice lacking its usual cheer. "But please, finish your breakfast. We’ll wait for you all in the hall."

The refusal caught Rishabh’s attention. He exchanged a quick, knowing look with Preeta. Sensing the shift in the air, the family finished their meal in a preoccupied silence. Once the last plates were cleared, they all moved into the main hall, seating themselves in a semi-circle of expectant silence.

The family moved from the dining area to the main hall.Preeta, Rishabh, Shristi, Sameer, Siraj, and Suhana settled onto the plush sofas, the air thick with a silence that was far from peaceful.

Preeta leaned forward, her eyes scanning Ayush’s weary face and disheveled clothes. "Ayush, what’s going on? You’ve been out all night. We thought you were just staying over at the Wadhwas with Shayaan like you mentioned before you left, but you look like you haven't slept a wink. Is everything fine?"

Ayush looked down at his interlaced fingers, his throat tightening. He couldn't find the words, the weight of the truth pressing down on his chest. Seeing his struggle, Palki stepped forward, resting a steadying hand on his shoulder.

"Mom, Papa," Palki said, her voice soft but commanding the room's attention. "Ayush has something very important to share with you all. Please, just listen to him."

Rishabh adjusted his position, his expression turning grave. "We're listening, son. What is it?"

Ayush swallowed hard and finally looked up, his eyes rimmed with red. "Mom... Dad... I lied to you before I left. I wasn't just spending the night out hanging with Shayaan. I was at the hospital all night."

"The hospital?" Preeta stood up instinctively, her face pale with immediate maternal worry. "What happened? Are you hurt? Ayush, tell me you’re okay!"

"I’m fine, Mom, I’m physically fine," Ayush reached out to calm her. "It wasn't for me. I was there for Maysha. She was admitted yesterday."

Rishabh’s brow furrowed. "Maysha? Is she alright? What happened to her?"

Ayush took a deep, shaky breath, feeling the encouraging squeeze from Palki’s hand. "She’s stable now, but... there’s more. Mom, Dad... Maysha is pregnant with my child."

A sharp, collective gasp echoed through the hall. Suhana dropped her gaze, and Shristi’s hand flew to her mouth in shock. Before the questions could erupt, Ayush pushed forward, knowing he had to lay it all bare.

"And she isn’t just carrying mine," he added, his voice cracking with the sheer impossibility of the situation. "She is also carrying Maan’s child as well—Maira’s ex-partner and her dance coach."

The revelation hung in the air like a physical weight, the silence of the Luthra Mansion becoming deafening as the family struggled to process the complexity of the news.

"Maan's child?" Preeta whispered, sinking back onto the sofa, her voice trembling. "Ayush, what are you saying? How is that even... medically..."

"It’s twins, Mom," Ayush interrupted. "It’s a heteropaternal-superfecundation pregnancy. It’s rare, but it’s real. One is mine... and the other belongs to Maan."

Rishabh finally spoke, his voice vibrating with a mix of disbelief and simmering concern. "And Maan... he was Maira's co-dance partner, and now her coach. Her ex-boyfriend. Does he even know what he’s done? Does his family know?"

"He knows now, Dad," Ayush admitted. "Maira made sure of that. That’s why she’s with him right now. She’s taking him to his house to force him to face his own parents."

"And the Wadhwas?" Preeta asked, her mind racing. "They were at the hospital with you. I assume they’ve already processed this?"

"Yes, they have—and they are still processing it," Palki confirmed. "They are trying to stay mentally strong for Maysha’s sake, which should be everyone's concern at the moment."

The room erupted into a low murmur of debate. Sameer and Shristi looked at each other, their faces etched with worry.

"Ayush, your cricket career is at its peak," Shristi said, her voice rising with anxiety. "The media will tear you apart. You’re throwing your life away for a girl who was involved with a rival like Maan! How can you take responsibility for both?"

"She's right, Ayush," Sameer added. "It’s a scandal that could end everything you’ve worked for."

Rishabh suddenly stood up, and the room went quiet. He looked at Ayush with a deep, principled grace.

"I didn't raise a coward," Rishabh said, his voice grounding and stern. "I as well have raised someone else's child as my own."

Sameer looked up quickly. "But bhai, Karan is our blood. Palki is our blood."

"Indeed," Rishabh replied firmly, "and when it comes to family, we don't see whose blood it is, Sameer. Similarly, with the babies that Maysha is carrying—she is carrying someone else's child as well, but that doesn't mean we should separate the twins. They are siblings after all, and we Luthras, as a family, do not do that. Sameer, Shristi, we aren't talking about a 'scandal.' We are talking about lives. Ayush, if you love this woman, you love both the lives she carries."

Preeta moved to stand beside Rishabh, nodding in agreement. "Maysha is fragile right now. We will not be the ones to break her further. We will be the bridge. We will stand by our son, and we will stand by that girl."

Palki looked at her parents with pride. "Thank you, Papa. That’s exactly what Maysha needs to hear."

*

The transition from the warmth of the Luthra household to the clinical, high-ceilinged opulence of the Khurana Mansion felt like stepping into a different climate entirely.

Raj Singh Khurana, along with Siddharth and Roshni, had just finished a quiet, structured breakfast. Roshni was slowly strolling her twins towards the corrdor for sunbathing when suddenly the heavy mahogany doors swung open.

Maan walked in first, his face a mask of exhausted resolve. Rudra and Maira followed closely behind. Rudra’s hand remained firmly on Maira’s elbow, guiding her with an almost protective urgency. She looked pale, her eyes shadowed with fatigue, her steps slightly unsteady from the lack of sleep and the weight of the morning’s tablets.

"Maan? What is this?" Raj asked, his voice booming through the foyer. He didn't look at his son; his eyes were fixed on Maira and Rudra. "And what brings Maira and Rudra to our house at this hour?"

"Sit down, Dad," Maan said, his voice devoid of its usual playfulness. "Siddharth bhai, Roshni bhabhi... please. We need to talk."

Sensing the gravity, the family gathered in the formal sitting area. Roshni parked the stroller nearby, her expression shifting from curiosity to dread. Maan didn't offer a preamble. He laid the truth bare—the hospital, the rare superfecundation pregnancy, and the fact that Maysha was carrying both his child and Ayush Luthra’s.

The silence that followed was not one of shock, but of a brewing storm. Raj Singh Khurana stared at the space between them, his jaw tightening until the muscle leapt.

"A heteropaternal superfecundation?," Raj whispered, the word sounding like a curse. "This is a trap! A calculated Dev Wadhwa move to humiliate our lineage by trying to malign our merger through a scandal. I already spent enough energy ensuring the Maira-Aarti fiasco stayed buried far from the public eye to protect our reputation; I won't have another scandal once again becoming my problem to suppress. You’ve been played, Maan!"

Raj stood up, his eyes turning glacial as he delivered a ruthless ultimatum. "Since she is carrying our Khurana lineage, if you want to marry her to father the child, then I suggest that she should get rid of the Luthra's baby. Or else, if you don't want to marry her, then once she gives birth to our heir, we take our blood and forget about her. Roshni bahu can take care of our blood. We can say to the media that Roshni was away from the eye of the public and the baby belongs to Roshni and Siddharth."

Maira flinched, leaning into Rudra, her face turning even paler at the sheer coldness of the plan. But Maan didn't flinch. He looked at Maira, offering her a silent, steadying assurance, before turning back to his father.

"I wouldn't do anything of the sort.I won't force Maysha to marry to me just because she is carrying my child.It's her decision Dad." Maan said, his voice ringing with a newfound, stubborn maturity. "And right now, only Maysha's wishes are my priority. I am going to do right by her, and it won't be on your cruel terms."

Before Raj could roar back, Siddharth stood up, his voice echoing with a newfound steel. He looked his father in the eye, shielding his brother’s stance.

"You’ve spent your life building walls of gold, Dad," Siddharth said. "But for the first time, Maan has found something real in the wreckage of our family's pride. If you disown him for choosing life over a brand image, then you lose both your sons today. I’m with him."

Roshni stepped up as well, slipping her hand into Siddharth’s. She looked at her father-in-law, her voice authoritative yet filled with a contrasting humanity.

"A family isn't just built on blood, Papa," Roshni said. "It is built out of love as well. We are your children, not pawns for your balance sheet. Since Maysha is carrying a Khurana child in her womb, we have to support her in every way possible. We cannot treat her like a tissue, using and throwing her away. We have to consider her wishes, and it is simply not right to separate the twins."

Raj stared at Siddharth and Roshni, his face hardening into an expression of utter coldness.

"If you are so concerned regarding the other child," Raj said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, "then I would be forced to disown even you both as well. With no connection to the Khurana household, create a life without my family name. You can stay in the outhouse, but you will not step foot in this mansion again."

The room was suffocating. Siddharth tightened his grip on Roshni’s hand, looking at his father as if seeing a stranger.

"Papa, I didn't know that just for the sake of the family name and reputation you are ready to disown your children," Siddharth said softly, his voice heavy with disappointment. "Have some shame. I didn't expect this from you. One day, you will regret this, and I hope it won't be too late for you."

The Khurana household, usually a fortress of rigid control, had just suffered an irreversible internal collapse.

*

The car ride back was suffocatingly quiet, the hum of the engine the only thing filling the space between them. Rudra kept his eyes on the road, his knuckles white against the steering wheel. Beside him, Maira stared out the window, her reflection in the glass looking like a ghost of the woman who had walked into that mansion an hour ago.

"He lost everything, Rudra," Maira whispered, her voice cracking. "In five minutes, Raj Singh Khurana erased his own son. The inheritance, the name... the roof over his head. All because Maan chose to do the right thing for once."

Rudra glanced at her, his protective instincts warring with the exhaustion of the night. He had known about Maan for a long time—he, along with Diya and Rahul, had been the keepers of Maira’s secrets while the rest of the Wadhwas and Ishaan remained in the dark.

"Maan knew the price, Maira," Rudra said, his voice grounding and stern. He turned to face her fully, his expression hardening as he saw the misplaced remorse in her eyes. "Listen to me. You need to stop feeling responsible for a man who, until yesterday, was hellbent on destroying your life."

Maira looked at him, startled by his bluntness. "But if I hadn't triggered this chain of events—"

"No, Maira. Maan is dealing with a mess of his own making," Rudra interrupted, his protective instincts taking over. "He was the one who pushed his vengeance to such an extreme that it’s now broken his own family apart. You’re sitting here mourning his inheritance, but have you forgotten that he was ready to dismantle your marriage with Ishaan just to get even? Have you forgotten how he treated Maysha the moment he found out she was pregnant?"

Maira flinched, but Rudra didn't back down.

"He deleted her chats. He blocked her number. He acted as if that child—his child—meant absolutely nothing to him. To Maan, Maysha was never a person; she was a pawn. He used her as leverage, and the second she wasn't useful for his revenge, he threw her away. If he’s suffering now while trying to fix things, that is his penance to pay. It is not your burden to carry."

Rudra pulled the car to the curb outside her duplex and turned to face her fully. As her brother, he couldn't stand to see the guilt eating her alive.

"You’re pale, Maira. You’re shaking. Go inside. Get some rest. When Ishaan gets home, he is the one that you need to look after you now. Let Maan stay at an outhouse or on the streets; that shouldn't have to be a worry to either Maysha or you. Maysha has Palki’s mayka the Luthras and Palki’s sasural the Sharmas, the Wadhwas, and the Kotharis all standing with her. She is protected. You need to protect yourself now."

Maira nodded weakly, the weight of his words sinking in. She stepped out of the car, the image of Maan's coldness toward Maysha now warring with the image of him standing up to his father. As she walked toward the door, she tried to push the chaos of the Khuranas aside, unaware that Ishaan was already inside, and their own internal storm was about to reach its peak.

*

The afternoon sun hung low, casting long, melancholic streaks of amber across the living room as Maira stepped back into the duplex apartment she shared with Ishaan.

The silence of the house was a sharp contrast to the verbal warfare she had just witnessed at the Khurana Mansion.

To her surprise, Ishaan was there, seated by the window with a medical journal he wasn't actually reading.

"Ishaan?" Maira asked, her voice raspy from exhaustion. "What are you doing here? Why haven't you gone to the hospital yet?"

Ishaan didn't look up immediately, his gaze fixed on a distant point outside. "You must have forgotten my Sunday timings with everything that’s happening," he said quietly. "Dr. Kusha, the intern assistant, takes over my morning cases if there are any. It gives me the morning and afternoon off. I don't head in until the evening."

Maira pressed a hand to her forehead, a dull throb beginning behind her eyes. "Yes... I recall now. It must have slipped my mind."

She tried to take a step towards her room but the hall around her suddenly tilted. The edges of her vision frayed into static, and the floor felt like it was dissolving beneath her.

"Maira!"

Ishaan’s reflexes were instantaneous. He was across the room before she could hit the hardwood, catching her in his arms and sweeping her up. Despite the emotional distance between them, his hold was firm and desperate. He carried her quickly to their bedroom, laying her gently on the bed.

He didn't waste a second. Professional instinct overrode his hurt as he grabbed his medical bag from the desk. He had purchased a portable fetal heart monitor and a handheld ultrasound scanner using his medical ID the moment he first learned Maira was expecting from the home pregnancy test. He hadn't wanted her to endure the long waits for routine check-ups at the clinic, preferring to monitor her and the baby himself in the comfort of their home.

His movements were a blur of clinical precision. First, he wrapped the cuff around her arm to check her blood pressure, his jaw tightening as he saw the numbers—lower than he liked. He clipped the pulse oximeter to her finger, watching the oxygen saturation and heart rate flicker on the small screen.

He then reached for his stethoscope, warming the diaphragm with his palm before pressing it against her chest. He listened intently to her lungs and the rapid, shallow beat of her heart, his brow furrowing in deep concern.

"Maira, please talk to me," he muttered, though she was still drifting in and out.

Before reaching for the digital devices, Ishaan moved the stethoscope lower, keeping her salwar top half-open just enough below her chest and adjusting her salwar pants just enough to allow for the scan.He pressed the bell firmly against her abdomen, closing his eyes to block out the world. He searched through the internal echoes of her body until he caught it—the faint, rapid-fire thump-thump-thump of the life growing inside her. A momentary shadow of a smile crossed his face; the sound was there, but as a doctor, he needed more than just a sound.

Moving with focused urgency, he applied the conductive gel to her abdomen. He switched on the fetal heart monitor, and after a tense few seconds, the rhythmic, gallop-like thumping of the baby’s heartbeat filled the quiet room. Only then did Ishaan let out a breath he seemed to have been holding since she walked through the door.

Finally, he clicked on the portable ultrasound scanner connecting to his laptop, sliding the transducer over her skin. The grainy black-and-white image of their child appeared on the screen—a small, flickering life completely unaware of the storm raging around its parents.

Ishaan stared at the screen, his eyes softening with a raw, painful vulnerability. He was still upset, the sting of the hidden past with Maan still burned, but as he looked from the monitor to Maira’s pale face, the doctor and the husband in him were at war with the man who wanted to stay angry. For now, his only priority was making sure they were both safe.

Maira’s lashes fluttered against her cheeks as she slowly regained consciousness. The room was dim, save for the blue glow of the monitors. As her vision cleared, she saw Ishaan sitting on the edge of the bed, the ultrasound transducer still in his hand, his eyes fixed on the flickering image of their child.

"Ishaan..." she whispered, her voice barely audible.

He immediately set the device aside, his professional mask slipping for a fraction of a second to reveal raw relief. "Don't try to get up. Your blood pressure is still stabilizing."

"I'm sorry," Maira said, her eyes filling with tears as she looked at the medical equipment surrounding her. "I'm sorry for stressing myself like this. I know it’s not good for the baby... but I just wanted to do right by Maysha. She’s in this situation because of me, because of my past coming back to haunt everyone. I feel so guilty, Ishaan."

Ishaan reached out, his fingers hovering near her hand before he pulled back slightly, the emotional distance still hovering like a ghost between them. "I understand why you're doing it, Maira. But you can't carry the weight of the whole world. If you collapse, you aren't helping Maysha, and you're putting yourself and our baby at risk. That is the one thing I won't allow."

Maira looked at him, the sting of his earlier silence still fresh as she attempts to get up and he puts for her the pillow behind her back and catching her head. "And I'm sorry for keeping it from you. My past... Maan... I never wanted it to be a barrier between us. I was just so afraid of losing what we have."

Ishaan’s jaw tightened. He was deeply hurt—the revelation of her history with Maan had shattered the version of her he thought he knew. He wanted to tell her how much it burned to know she had looked him in the eye while keeping such a massive secret. But as he looked at her pale face and the monitors tracking her fragile state, he forced the words down. This wasn't the time for a confrontation that would only strain her heart further.

"We aren't doing this right now, Maira," he said, his voice level but firm. "You just fainted. Your health is the only conversation on the table."

He cleared his throat, shifting the subject to something practical. "I've been thinking. Since you're so worried about her, I was wondering... maybe we should have Maysha stay here, with us. In this house."

Maira’s eyes widened in surprise. "Stay here? But Ishaan... she’s so upset with me. She hasn't spoken to me properly since she found out I knew about her and Maan and didn't stop it sooner. How can we live under the same roof? The tension alone would be a constant stress for both of us, and that’s not good for either pregnancy."

Ishaan looked at the ultrasound screen one last time before turning it off. "Maira, look at me. I am upset with you too. I am hurt, and I am angry. But yet, I wouldn't compromise your care and the safety of our baby for those feelings. I love you both, and you are my priorities no matter what."

He stood up, packing the stethoscope back into his bag. "Maysha needs medical monitoring, and I am a doctor as well. If she is here, I can look after both of you. As for the distance... eventually, the anger fades when you're forced to face each other every day. Just give it time. Let her be near us where she’s safe."

"And it's not just Maysha," Ishaan continued, his expression unreadable. "I am also going to invite Maan and Ayush to stay here as well. If they both want to take care of her and be part of this journey, they need to be accessible."

Maira recoiled slightly, her heart hammering against her ribs. "Maan? Under this roof? Ishaan, after everything he has done—the threats, the vengeance—how can you even suggest that? It will be beyond awkward; it will be unbearable."

Ishaan gently laid her down again. He took a tissue and wiped her stomach, cleaning the residue of the gel with steady, clinical strokes. He pulled over her salwar pants and extended her kurti to cover her stomach again, protecting her dignity as he spoke.

"If Maan truly wants to do right by Maysha now, this is the only way. We will have to live with it, even if it is awkward. I’d rather have the chaos where I can see it and manage it as a doctor."

While continuing packing his equipments. As he tucked the ultrasound scanner away, he offered a small, rare smile. "Also Maira, since I'm not a gynaec, obviously... this home setup is for normal follow-ups and for my own peace of mind. I’ll do the home scans so that you and Maysha don't have to deal with the hospital stress, but for any major concerns or official milestones, we will still be going to the gynecologist."

He reached out and finally squeezed her hand, a brief, tight pressure before he pulled away. "Stop stressing just rest now. I’ll just make some work calls.Okay." He tugged the sheet over her and kissed her forhead and kissed her stomach before heading downstairs.

He reached out, finally squeezing her hand—a brief, tight pressure. "Stop stressing. Just rest now. I’ll make some work calls, okay?"

He tugged the sheet over her, leaned down to kiss her forehead, and then lingered to kiss her stomach before heading downstairs.