SS:Shattered Bonds - Page 5

Originally posted by: Milalal27

take care & be well, eagerly waiting for your updates.

Thank you 😇

Will update soon.....

Part Thirteen: Sisters, Strength & Silent Longings

Udaipur woke up to golden skies and a crisp breeze—life flowing gently through its lanes, much like the steady rhythm.

Abhira was finally beginning to find herself again.

After joining a new law firm, this place became her new battleground—a place where she didn’t just work, she thrived. Within weeks, she had established herself as one of the most promising young lawyers in the city. Her days were relentless—filled with court hearings, case preparations, legal research, client meetings, and strategy sessions.

And yet, amidst all this chaos, she felt alive.

There was a fire in her eyes again. A quiet strength in her voice.

Standing tall in the conference room, presenting her case with confidence and clarity, she commanded the room effortlessly. Her poised demeanor, razor-sharp arguments, and fierce conviction left the entire team stunned.

From the corner, a senior partner whispered to a junior, “She’s a firebrand. A storm in disguise.”

Abhira had restarted her law practice not just to prove herself—but to reclaim her identity.

“Apne sapne khud poore kar rahi hai… bina kisi sahare ke.”

She wasn’t waiting to be saved. She had become her own savior.

The scars of memory loss had blurred Armaan’s face in her mind, but her heart… it still carried a silent pain.

“Kahi na kahi uske dil ke kisi kone mein Armaan ke liye ek dard ab bhi zinda tha.”

But she didn’t let it consume her.

She chose healing. She chose growth.

Surrounded by her B Nanu , her Badi Maa , Choti Maa , her sister Ruhi, and little Daksh—she found comfort, warmth, and the strength to rebuild herself.

The girl who once depended on love for strength was gone.

Here stood a woman who had turned her pain into power.

She laughed louder, worked harder, and lived deeper.

Whether it was mentoring interns, helping a colleague after hours, or standing up for a client .

Fierce. Compassionate. Unstoppable.

“Khud ko jee rahi hai Abhira. Sirf zinda nahi hai… woh sach mein jee rahi hai.”

She wasn’t just surviving.

She was rewriting her story—on her own terms.

______

After work, Abhira headed home, where a familiar warmth always greeted her.

Ruhi had returned to her passion—jewelry design. The Goenka flagship store had reopened its design wing under her creative lead, and with it, Ruhi had found herself again. Her sketches, once buried under the weight of heartbreak and shattered dreams, now shimmered with confidence and renewed ambition.

Her room was once again filled with colors, gemstones, and ideas. Mood boards lined the walls. Hand-drawn designs lay scattered across her desk, some unfinished, some already turned into breathtaking pieces. The sparkle in her eyes now rivaled the sparkle of the jewels she crafted.

Ruhi beamed as she showed Abhira her latest emerald collection—a stunning blend of traditional heritage and contemporary elegance.

Abhira grinned, gently lifting one of the necklaces. “You’ve still got it, Ruhi.”

Ruhi laughed, nudging her playfully. “And you’ve still got that bossy sister attitude.”

But behind her teasing was pride—both for herself and for her sister.

Ruhi wasn’t just designing jewelry anymore; she was rebuilding her confidence, her voice, and her future. She had begun mentoring young designers, especially women who had lost their way after heartbreaks or failures. She held workshops, spoke at industry events, and even started a small online blog titled “Polished, Not Perfect”, where she shared her journey of healing through art.

Every sketch she drew, every gem she set, was a silent promise to herself—“Main phir se khud ko paungi… aur is baar khud ke liye jeeungi.”

Abhira watched her sister shine, not just in her work, but in her spirit.

Two sisters, walking parallel paths of rediscovery.

Both healing. Both rising.

Together.

____

Weekends became sacred—reserved for quiet joys and sisterhood.

Healing time. Laughter time. Just their time.

One golden Saturday afternoon, Abhira and Ruhi wandered through the sunlit lanes of Udaipur, arms looped and hearts light. Their hands were full of colorful shopping bags, wrists adorned with jingling bangles that sang with every gesture. They tried on sarees in tiny boutiques, burst into laughter over the spice of roadside chaat, and clicked selfies at every familiar corner—capturing fleeting moments that felt like eternity.

For a little while, they weren’t women carrying the weight of broken love or heavy titles.

They were simply Ruhi and Abhira—two sisters, two souls finding joy again.

As the sun dipped into the horizon, painting the sky in shades of amber and rose, they made their way to the ghat. Feet dipped in the cool waters of Lake Pichola, silence wrapped around them like an old shawl—worn but comforting.

“I missed this,” Ruhi said softly, her voice almost lost in the gentle ripples.

Abhira leaned her head against her sister’s shoulder. “Me too.”

A pause lingered, heavy and quiet.

Then came the whisper. “Do you ever… miss him?”

Abhira didn’t need to ask who. The ache in her chest answered before her lips could.

She gazed at the lake, its surface mirroring the stillness in her heart.

“Every day. Every night,” she murmured. “Even when I don’t understand why.”

Ruhi gave a sad, knowing smile. “Same. Rohit and I… I know he regrets it. But regret doesn’t erase the hurt.”

Their fingers found each other’s—intertwining naturally, like they always had.

A quiet strength pulsed between them.

“Healing takes time,” Abhira said, her voice steady despite the cracks inside.

“But it doesn’t mean we stop living,” Ruhi added gently.

“And it doesn’t mean we stop loving.”

Above them, the stars began to appear—soft, scattered lights in an indigo sky, like distant promises.

The sisters closed their eyes.

Hearts still heavy.

But slowly stitching themselves back together—

Thread by thread. Breath by breath.

They didn’t know what tomorrow would bring.

But for now, they had this moment.

Each other.

Their dreams.

And the quiet, glowing hope of better days.

---

(END OF PART THIRTEEN)

Part Forteen: When Fate Draws the Line

The courtroom buzzed with murmurs—lawyers flipping through files, clerks organizing documents, and reporters quietly taking notes.

Abhira stood tall near the plaintiff’s desk, dressed in an elegant white saree, crisp and composed. Her hair was pinned up professionally, her expression sharp, eyes scanning the case file. She was fighting a high-profile corporate land dispute—one that had caught Udaipur’s media attention.

The door creaked open behind her.

“Defense counsel has arrived,” the clerk announced.

Abhira didn’t look up—until the air around her shifted.

Her breath caught.

Armaan Poddar walked in, his presence as commanding as ever in a tailored grey suit. Confident, composed—but when his eyes met hers, the flicker of something deeper passed between them.

Shock.

Recognition.

A silent storm.

He hadn’t expected to see her here—not like this. Not as the lead counsel against him. His heart thundered in his chest, but his face remained unreadable.

Abhira, though taken aback, didn’t let it show. She straightened her shoulders and greeted him formally, “Good morning, Mr. Poddar.”

Armaan swallowed. Her voice—calm, cold, professional—cut deeper than any confrontation.

“Good morning, Ms. Sharma” he replied, matching her tone.

They sat across from each other—two minds, once in sync, now adversaries.

As arguments began, it was clear they were equals. Point and counterpoint. Logic versus logic. But underneath every word was history. Every glance was laced with what once was—and what remained unspoken.

During a short recess, Abhira stepped out for air. Her heart was pounding.

Armaan followed, quietly. He didn’t speak at first.

Then finally, he said, “You’ve become… incredible, Abhira.”

She turned slowly. Her eyes met his.

“I always was,” she replied, her voice steady.

A pause.

“I’m not here to complicate things,” Armaan said softly. “But watching you… standing so strong, fighting for justice—it reminds me why I fell in love with you.”

Her jaw clenched, eyes moistening just a bit.

“You also reminded me how easy it was to break someone you loved,” she whispered.

That silence between them was heavier than any argument.

Just then, Ruhi called Abhira, and she composed herself.

“See you inside, Mr. Poddar.”

She walked away, leaving Armaan staring after her, a bittersweet ache rising in his chest.

He didn’t know what the verdict of the case would be.

But today proved something he had always known in his soul—

Abhira was, and would always be, his greatest strength… and his deepest loss.

---

END OF PART FORTEEN

Amazing, both chapters

Excited to read more

PART FIFTEEN - AFTER THE VERDICT

The courtroom had emptied.

The verdict echoed in the silence, but Abhira barely heard it anymore. She’d won — yes. But the victory felt hollow, like applause in a dream. She closed her file slowly, her fingers brushing the edges like they were made of glass.

She walked out into the marble corridor.

And stopped.

Armaan

He stood exactly as he had in one of those ghosted flashes that sometimes danced at the edge of her mind — leaning against a pillar, coat folded on his arm, looking at her like she was something sacred and broken all at once.

“You were brilliant in there,” he said, voice low.

She met his gaze, wary. “So I’ve been told.”

He didn’t smile. Not really. “You look like her,” he said quietly. “The woman I loved.”

She paused. “I get glimpses sometimes. Of someone laughing in a kitchen… someone reading late into the night. A touch on my wrist. A voice in my ear. I don’t know if that’s her — me — or just shadows.”

Armaan swallowed hard. “It’s you. All of it.”

Abhira’s voice turned softer. “And you? Were you the voice in those memories?”

“I was your husband,” he said, breath shaky. “I loved you more than I knew how to say. And I failed you worse than I ever imagined I could.”

She looked at him, searching his face. “Why didn’t I remember you? Why didn’t my heart scream your name the moment I woke up?”

“Because I didn’t deserve it,” Armaan said. “I was there every day you slept. I read to you, talked to you… begged the universe to give me another chance. But when you woke up, and your eyes met mine, and there was nothing… I realized maybe losing me was your body’s way of surviving.”

Tears welled up in her eyes. “My family told me we were married. That I was pregnant. That I lost the baby.”

Armaan looked down, his voice cracking. “We didn’t even know. You were going to surprise me.”

Abhira nodded, voice hollow. “I wish I could remember what it felt like… to carry a piece of us.”

“You were so happy,” he whispered. "There was a unique kind of happiness on your face—even though you didn’t know you were pregnant, maybe your heart already did.

I still remember how you used to sleep with your hand gently resting on your stomach, like your soul had already formed a bond… like your heart was silently telling you to protect something precious.

You smiled more in those days, even without knowing the reason.

There was a softness in your voice, a glow in your eyes… something had changed in you, and I could feel it.

But fate was cruel.

It took away not just our child, but also the memories, the emotions, the quiet dreams we had started weaving without even realizing it.

And now, even when I look at you… I see the echo of that love, that warmth… and it breaks me, because I couldn’t protect either of you.

Not then…

She blinked. “Charu. And my brother.”

He nodded, pain dark in his eyes. “I saw betrayal everywhere… even in you. I thought you were defending Abhir. I saw you quiet, not condemning them, and I jumped to all the wrong conclusions.”

____

Armaan "I wasn’t trying to protect or support them.

I think I just couldn’t process everything that was happening.

Even if I’ve lost the memories from that time, I still know myself — I would never stand by something wrong, no matter who it is, even if it's my own family.

But you… you always said you loved me, didn’t you?

Then how could you not understand me when I needed you the most?

You didn’t even try to look into my heart, to hear the words I couldn’t say.

You just made up your mind…

You judged me, blamed me, punished me… without giving me a chance to explain.

You took out your anger on me, without once thinking about what I might be going through.

And that hurt more than anything else…

Not because you were angry, but because you gave up on us so easily."

“I know,” Armaan choked. “I failed you. Again and again.”

A silence stretched. A silence where the truth trembled and nearly broke.

Abhira’s voice trembled. “Sometimes, when I’m alone… I feel something. Like my body remembers you. Like… I’m missing something I can’t name. Is that love, Armaan? Or just grief wearing its clothes?”

He didn’t answer right away. Just looked at her — the way a starving man might look at sunlight.

“I don’t know,” he said softly. “But whatever it is… it’s still yours. Even if you never call it love again.”

She blinked hard. “You stayed all those months. Even when I didn’t know you.”

“I stayed because I did,” he said. “Because loving you wasn’t a choice. It was my breath. My punishment. My prayer.”

Her hand trembled at her side.

“I want to remember you,” she whispered. “I want to know why I chose you. Why I built a life with you. Why it hurts like this.”

Armaan stepped forward — not to touch her, but just to be closer. “You don’t have to remember everything. I’ll carry it for both of us. I just want you to heal. And if one day, in the middle of a case, or a quiet morning, or a dream… something clicks, and you feel it again—then I’ll be here.”

She looked at him, eyes glassy. “And if I don’t?”

“Then I’ll still be proud of you,” he said. “And I’ll still love you. Quietly. Completely. Even if it means watching you walk away.”

Abhira’s breath shook.

She turned, not ready, not whole, but not broken either. Just… beginning.

But just before she left, he said her name.

“Abhira”

“I remember the first time you smiled at me,” he said. “It was in the middle of an argument. You were furious. And beautiful. And brilliant. And I thought, ‘This woman is going to ruin me.’ And you did. In the best way.”

Her lips trembled.

She didn’t speak. Just walked away — a woman who didn’t remember her love story, but could still feel its echo in every step.

And behind her, Armaan stood still — quietly breaking, quietly loving, and quietly waiting.

____

END OF PART FIFTEEN

Beautiful, so emotional.

It feels that he's stalking her / or not let her be. You know. I find it creeping, weird. Don't know

Originally posted by: Milalal27

Beautiful, so emotional.

It feels that he's stalking her / or not let her be. You know. I find it creeping, weird. Don't know

I totally get how it might feel that way. But the idea wasn’t to show him as someone who’s not letting her be—it’s more about the quiet pain of regret and the hope that things might heal with time, without forcing anything.

Thank you for sharing how you felt.

Part Sixteen: Two Houses, One Silence

Goenka House

The morning sun streamed into the Goenka kitchen, painting the walls with a golden glow. Abhira stood by the counter, tossing tiny fruit pieces into the air for Daksh, who squealed and clapped from his high chair, his face smeared with mango.

"You're spoiling him, you know," Ruhi said with a playful eye-roll as she wiped the floor beneath him.

Abhira grinned, licking mango off her finger. "He's one. His job is to create chaos. Mine is to cheer him on."

Ruhi snorted, placing a tray of tea on the table. "Your job is to clean up after this tiny tornado, not encourage him!"

Laughter filled the room—a sound that had been missing for too long. It felt like the house was slowly remembering how to breathe again.

Later that day, the sisters wandered through the local market, giggling over bangles and bargaining for sweets like old days. Ruhi paused at a jewelry shop, picking up a silver peacock pendant. Her smile faded slightly.

“Rohit gave me one just like this,” she murmured, her voice low. “He hasn’t even called… not once. Not even to ask about Daksh. Sometimes I wonder if he even misses us.”

Abhira looped her arm around Ruhi’s shoulders. “He does. He’s just too wrapped in pride and regret to show it.”

Ruhi looked at her. “And you? Do you still miss him?”

Abhira looked away, the weight in her chest returning. “ I cry for my baby at night. I remember flashes—little things—and then this sharp pain hits. If none of this had happened… I’d be holding my child today.”

She blinked back tears.

Ruhi gently squeezed her hand. “Just pray that one day it all makes sense. And until then… we have each other.”

Abhira smiled faintly. “And Daksh’s mischief.”

At that moment, Daksh, wrapped in his little blanket, let out a loud giggle—his face covered in chocolate from the sweet they’d just handed him.

Both sisters burst out laughing.

---

Poddar Mansion

The mansion was quiet—eerily so. Armaan sat in the garden, staring blankly at his untouched laptop. The messages on his phone blinked: court updates, case notes, appointments… but not one from her.

Not from Abhira.

Not even a forwarded meme she used to send when he worked too much.

Rohit found him there, nursing his bandaged hand.

“Bhaiya,” Rohit said softly, sitting beside him. “Do you think it’s too late for us?”

Armaan looked at him, eyes tired. “I ask myself that every day.”

There was a long silence.

Even you are longing for Abhira bhabhi, right?

Bhaiya, please tell me what I should do.

I haven't even called her. I was afraid that if I said anything, it might make things worse.

Please, bhaiya, tell me what to do."

"I love her more than anything, Bhaiya…

Without her, I’m not just incomplete—I’m lost.

Every single day without Ruhi and my little Daksh feels like I’m just... surviving, not living.

I smile in front of everyone, but inside, I’m falling apart.

I can’t even describe the pain—it’s like a constant ache that never leaves.

I don’t know how I’ve managed all this time without them…

It’s killing me, Bhaiya. Piece by piece --Rohit finally confessed.

“I miss them,”even her weird bedtime stories and how she scolds me for eating too many chips. I was a jerk. I messed up so badly, bhaiya.”

“You weren’t the only one,” Armaan said.

Rohit looked at him, eyes full of regret.

"Armaan Bhaiya… please, I’m begging you—just talk to Abhira bhabhi once.

I know… maybe she doesn’t remember us the way she used to, maybe time and pain have created distance, but I truly believe that deep down, in her heart, we still matter to her.

And I know she will help me… she always did. She never turned her back on me before, and I don’t think she would now, even if she’s hurting.

Please, Bhaiya… if you just talk to her, if you explain things, I know she’ll listen.

She’ll understand. She’ll agree. I have faith in her… and in you."

No one understands Ruhi like she does. If she helps, maybe… just maybe Ruhi will listen.”

Armaan placed a hand on his shoulder. “You love them that much?”

“With everything I’ve got. And I’ll do anything. Even beg.”

Armaan smiled faintly. “Then let’s get to work. I’ll talk to Abhira.”

---

That Evening – Goenka House

Abhira was sitting with Ruhi and Daksh on the terrace. Daksh was babbling nonsense while trying to feed Ruhi a piece of biscuit he’d already half-eaten.

“I think he believes he’s feeding us gourmet food,” Abhira giggled.

“I think he’s testing how much bacteria we can survive,” Ruhi replied, dodging the soggy treat.

Just then, Abhira received a message from Armaan saying that he was waiting outside the house and wanted to talk to her about Ruhi and Rohit.

Without telling anyone, she stepped outside.

Abhira arrived, hesitant. Armaan stood, shielding his emotions with a calm face.

“I need to talk,” he said, voice careful. “About Ruhi… and Rohit.”

She frowned but nodded.

They stepped aside.

“He’s trying, Abhira. He regrets everything. He misses them. He’s willing to fight for them. But Ruhi won’t listen to him… maybe she’ll listen to you.”

Abhira hesitated. “You want me to convince her?”

“I want you to help bring two people back together—people who love each other but don’t know how to say it anymore. You’ve always been her anchor.”

She looked at Daksh and Ruhi in the distance, her heart softening.

“He told you how much he loves them?” she asked.

“He did. And I believe him,” Armaan said gently. “Just like I still believe in us.”

Her breath caught.

“I’m not asking for you,” he added quickly. “I’m asking for them. For Daksh. For Ruhi.”

She bit her lip, then nodded slowly. “Alright. Let’s bring them back together.”

He exhaled, visibly relieved.

Their hands brushed as she turned to walk inside. Neither pulled away.

And just like that, two people who had once lost everything found a small reason to try again—this time, not for themselves… but for family.

----

Together, they began plotting little things—shared notes, "accidental" meetings, forgotten favorite snacks mysteriously appearing at the right time.

Their plan to reunite Ruhi and Rohit had begun.

But what they didn’t expect was how this mission might just pull them a little closer too.

---

(END OF PART SIXTEEN)

Rohit is pathetic, always Armaan or Abhira helping him 👎🏽

How many chapters are there?

I see you are reuniting them Abhimaan I mean

Are y on Wattpad?

Originally posted by: Milalal27

Rohit is pathetic, always Armaan or Abhira helping him 👎🏽

How many chapters are there?

I see you are reuniting them Abhimaan I mean

Are y on Wattpad?

Only a few parts remaining.

AbhiMaan’s reunion? Still up in the air.

Not on Wattpad, though!

Thank you for sharing your thoughts!