Riya/Ariya FF: Aakhri Umeed {A/N on p.1 | Update 14} - Page 2

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MariyamBeary98 thumbnail
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Posted: 4 months ago
#11

That tum thik ho ufff 😭 🤧

Can I having him, the forehead kissss my fav 🥺

I wish nobody in the world should suffer from this kind of trauma 😭

Thanks

Maan2000 thumbnail
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Posted: 4 months ago
#12
riya bond with everyone etf member so good ... arjun and rathore console riya is really nice ...
plmzaq thumbnail
8th Anniversary Thumbnail Rocker Thumbnail + 3
Posted: 4 months ago
#13

Nice start

Love it

Continue soon.

stardust108 thumbnail
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Posted: 4 months ago
#14
Glad Riya has her ETF family! You captured her pain very well and I’m super intrigued to learn about her past!
SarafWasima thumbnail
Posted: 4 months ago
#15

Part 3


Riya’s eyes were still swollen when she walked into her apartment later that evening. The rawness of the day clung to her skin, leaving her drained. Her limbs were heavy, her throat still sore from crying. She dropped her bag by the door, not bothering to turn on the lights. The dim, dying rays of the sunset filtered in through the sheer curtains, casting faint orange streaks across the floor.

For a moment, she simply stood there—silent, unmoving—as if the weight of her grief had turned her into stone.

The apartment was hauntingly quiet. It always was.

Her fingers grazed the edge of the wall as she slowly walked to the living room. The familiar emptiness greeted her like an old companion—the stale air, the hollow silence, the lingering shadows.

Her gaze drifted toward the coffee table. The small photo frame faced downward, right where she had left it weeks ago. Her throat tightened. She hesitated for a moment before slowly bending down and picking it up.

Her eyes softened at the old photograph.

Her younger self stared back at her, barely thirteen, smiling brightly at the camera. Her eyes were wide and full of life—untouched by the harshness that would come later. Her arms were wrapped around her siblings, who were grinning carefreely. Her parents stood behind them, stiff but smiling.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she ran them over the glass, her touch featherlight. Her chest constricted painfully.

Her family was her first heartbreak.

A bitter, hollow smile tugged at her lips. She slowly set the frame back down, face-up this time, but her hands remained on it.

Her phone buzzed faintly on the table, snapping her out of her reverie. She blinked once, dazed, and reached for it.

“Maa calling…”

Her fingers hovered over the screen. For a moment, she considered letting it ring out, but she knew better. She exhaled shakily before swiping to accept the call, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Hello?”

Her mother’s voice came through, cold and detached, cutting through the silence.

“Bas yaad dilane ke liye phone kiya tha—Kal Shreya ka birthday hai. Mat bhool jaana.”

Riya’s fingers clenched around the phone. The detached tone, the lack of warmth—it struck her with familiar brutality. No ‘How are you?’ No inquiry about her day. Just a reminder.

Her voice was steady but barely audible. “Haan… yaad hai.”

Her mother didn’t respond. Instead, she added curtly, “Aur jaldi aana. Har baar ki tarah late mat hona.”

Before Riya could answer, the line went dead.

Her fingers loosened around the phone, and it slipped from her grasp, clattering softly onto the table. She stared at it blankly, her vision blurring slightly.

Late.
She was always late.
Late to be good enough.
Late to be loved.
Late to be wanted.

Her nails dug into her palm as she curled her fingers into a trembling fist. Her throat tightened with familiar suffocation, but she pushed the feeling down—swallowing it like a bitter pill.

***

The next evening, Riya stood outside her parents’ house, staring at the front door with lead in her chest. The festive decorations clashed violently with the storm brewing inside her. Golden fairy lights adorned the walls, casting a false warmth. She could hear faint laughter and the sound of clinking glasses from inside.

Her stomach tightened. Her nails pressed into her palm.

She forced herself to knock.

The door swung open, revealing her younger sister, Shreya, dressed in a delicate lilac salwar kameez. She looked radiant, carefree—the perfect birthday girl.

“Didi!” Shreya beamed, instantly throwing her arms around Riya’s neck.

Riya’s breath hitched slightly at the sudden affection. She closed her eyes briefly, wrapping her arms around her sister. For a moment, she allowed herself to feel it—to relish the warmth she so rarely received from this household.

“Happy birthday, Shreya,” she murmured softly.

Shreya pulled back, grinning, before tugging her inside. “Sab andar hai!”

The moment Riya stepped into the living room, she felt it—the heavy, suffocating weight of her family’s judgment. Her parents sat on the couch, her father’s expression stiff, her mother’s eyes briefly flickering over her before quickly moving on. Her youngest brother, Aryan, barely glanced at her before returning his attention to his phone.

She was invisible.

She set the gift down on the table quietly.

Her mother’s sharp voice cut through the noise. “Time dekha tumne?”

Riya froze. Her fingers clenched slightly at her sides.

“Ek kaam tumse thik se nahi hota,” her mother muttered. Her tone was low but loud enough for the people nearby to hear.

Riya’s throat constricted. She turned slightly, trying to let it go, but her mother wasn’t done.

“Jab dekho kaam, kaam, kaam. Tumhe lagta hai tumse bada koi hai iss duniya mein?” Her voice grew louder, laced with venom. “Sab log yahi samjhte hai na? Tum kitni badi officer ho. Lekin ghar ka time nahi hai tumhare paas.”

A hollow, bitter laugh escaped her father. “Zyada important hai na un logon ki jaan… apne logon se?”

Her heart cracked audibly in her chest.

Her hands curled into fists, her nails digging painfully into her palm. Her voice came out low and steady. “Mera kaam zaruri hai.”

Her father snorted. “Zaruri? Haan, humein toh pata hi nahi tha ki khud ki family tumhari priority nahi hai.”

Her jaw tightened, the sharp sting of their words slicing deeper. Her throat burned, but she refused to let her voice waver.

Her mother’s voice sharpened with condescension. “Aur gussa toh dekho… poora baap pe gayi hai. Tumhe na tameez ki bhi zarurat hai.”

Her brother’s mocking voice cut through the tension. “Bas yehi aata hai isse—drama karna.”

She slowly turned toward Aryan. Her eyes locked with his, sharp and cold. “Mujhe koi haq nahi hai na gussa hone ka?” Her voice was low and venomous. “Jab tum log mujhe ghatiya bolte ho? Tumhari maa mujhe nikamma bolti hai? Mera gussa kaise justify hota hai?”

The room went deathly silent.

Her mother’s face contorted with anger. “Tumhare lafz sun rahi ho main?”

“Sun lijiye, Maa!” Her voice finally cracked, rising with years of pent-up rage. “Main bhi sun rahi hoon bachpan se!” Her voice was thick with emotion, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “Suno na? Jis din main school se rone rone aayi thi, kyunki classmates ne mujhe push kiya tha staircase se, tab aapne mujhe pe chillaaya tha! ‘Tum hi kuch karti hongi, tabhi maar padti hai tumhe.’ Yahi bola tha na?”

Her mother’s face hardened.

Her voice grew louder, her breath ragged. “Yaad hai? Jab Aryan ne glass toda tha aur aapne mujhe chanta maara tha? Kyon? Kyunki mujhe hi uski dekh-bhaal karni chahiye thi! Jab logon ne mujhe bully kiya, tab aapne kaha—‘Tum hi koi na koi baat karti hongi na jo log tumhara mazaak udaate hain!’”

Her voice finally cracked, trembling with raw emotion. “Aap logon ne kabhi mujhse pucha bhi ki main thik hoon ya nahi?”

The room fell into an uncomfortable silence. Her father’s face was stony, her mother’s lips pressed into a thin, unsympathetic line. No apology. No remorse. Just cold indifference.

Her breathing was uneven, her chest heaving. Her knuckles were white from clenching her fists.

Without another word, she turned sharply and walked out of the house, leaving the suffocating weight of her family behind.

Her legs trembled as she reached the gate, but she didn’t stop. She kept walking—her heart pounding violently against her chest.

Edited by SarafWasima - 4 months ago
Phir_Mohabbat thumbnail
Posted: 4 months ago
#16

Sahi hai kuch to bola nikal diya frustration


People will never change best we change ourselves get out of that situation.. anyways Riya has better family in her work.

Is that step mother?

When kids try to be dedh shana i feel like slap then through screen. Stupid idiots

MariyamBeary98 thumbnail
4th Anniversary Thumbnail Visit Streak 30 Thumbnail + 2
Posted: 4 months ago
#17

Riya don't break ve strong ahhhh why the hello her mother worsening her situation and it's says blood is thicker than water 😭 😭 😭

Poor Riya 😭

Thanks for the pm

stardust108 thumbnail
Visit Streak 30 Thumbnail
Posted: 4 months ago
#18
Aww, poor Riya. Her family is really indifferent to her, glad she has the ETF by her side.
heavenlybliss thumbnail
Posted: 4 months ago
#19

Another intense chapter! Waiting to see what happens next!

heavenlybliss thumbnail
Posted: 4 months ago
#20

What the...part 3 kab aayasmiley37

res

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