Tera Mera Saath Rahe ~ Gosham, Mithila FF ~ Chapter 13 pg 5 - Page 4

chapter 6

The first kiss. Passion finds a foothold in their hearts.

chapter 7

Things are moving faster than they should. They are not yet married and trouble can come.

Looks like Saksham was not aware either of what was coming down.

chapter 8

He did know. He never told her. He also let things go too far.

What she said was right. He did not fight for her. He is willing to do that now though.

Aashi did not miss the looks between the two. She knows. This is going to bring trouble.

Badi Ma did come. At least there is hope that she can turn things around.

chapter 10

Mithila comes as a guiding force. Just at the right time too.

She will find her inner strength and rise from the ashes. They will all see.

Chapter 11 (A Promise Paid in Silence)

The Price of Dharma

Gopika sat at the edge of the mandir steps in Modi Bhavan, her fingers trembling in her lap. The flame of the diya had long been extinguished, but the warmth of Mithila’s words still glowed within her.

“Every soul must choose its karma, Gopika,” Mithila had said, her voice as calm as temple bells echoing in the silence of dusk. “And in choosing dharma, we sometimes break our own heart to protect others.”

Her presence had been comforting, yet strangely beyond the ordinary. And when she had softly revealed, “I am Mithila Modi, Saksham’s badi maa. I know everything,” Gopika had felt the ground slip beneath her feet.

Everything.

Even the secret buried in the corners of her fragile heart—her night with Saksham, the love that bloomed like a sin in the shadows.

Before Gopika could gather her voice, Mithila had offered one final, cryptic smile.

“You will know what to do when the moment comes. Remember, Krishna guided Arjun not to win—but to do what was right.”

And then she was gone.

As if absorbed into the flickering shadows of the mandir, leaving behind only the scent of incense and the stirring of inner war.

The Weight of Silence

Back in the Modi Mansion kitchen, dusk fell like a hush. Gopika stood by the sink, rinsing a brass thali. Her hands trembled. Water dripped steadily—like the beat of her heart caught between truth and duty.

Ashi entered, followed closely by Ramila. Both wore concern like poorly tailored costumes.

“Gopika,” Ramila said, her voice unusually sweet. “Beta, we need to talk.”

Gopika turned slowly. “Ji, Mami?”

“You’ve been avoiding us,” Ashi said sharply, folding her arms. “But we know. Everything.”

Gopika's heart missed a beat.

Ramila stepped forward. “We’re not blind. We can see what’s going on between you and Saksham.”

She said nothing. Her gaze dropped to the floor.

“You think you’re in love?” Ashi’s voice rose, brittle. “With someone who was supposed to be mine?”

Gopika looked up, startled. “I—I didn’t know.”

Ramila stepped in smoothly. “We know you didn’t do it on purpose, dikra. But it’s happened. And people have eyes. Ears. You want them whispering your name in shame?”

“I never wanted to come between you two,” Gopika said, her voice barely audible.

“But you did,” Ashi snapped. “You took what wasn’t yours.”

“I didn’t even know he was engaged—he never said anything to me.”

Ramila softened her tone, laying a hand on Gopika’s shoulder like a mother might. “We’re not angry. Just… practical. You know how society is. It won’t forgive you for this.”

“You’ll be blamed,” Ashi added, “not him. That’s how it works.”

Silence.

“You have a chance to fix this,” Ramila murmured. “Make Saksham understand. He has to keep his promise.”

“To me,” Ashi pressed. “He promised to marry me. You won’t ruin that, right?”

Gopika stared at them, then down at her hands—wet, cold, uncertain.

“I’ll talk to him,” she said finally, her voice hollow.

“You’ll tell him to marry me?” Ashi asked, searching her face.

“I will,” Gopika whispered.

“You promise?” Ramila leaned in, eyes sharp beneath the softness.

“I promise.”

As Gopika stepped out, her shoulders slumped under a burden too heavy for one heart to carry, Ashi turned to Ramila, lips curling.

“Told you guilt would work.”

Ramila chuckled. “Let her sacrifice herself. Much cleaner that way.”

Dharma Over Desire

The terrace air was still. Wedding music floated faintly from inside, tauntingly joyful. Gopika stepped onto the tiles as if walking into a battlefield.

Saksham stood there, back to her, eyes on the horizon. He turned as she approached, hope lighting his face.

“Gopika. I’ve been looking for you.”

She didn’t smile. “We need to talk.”

“I know I should’ve told you earlier—about Ashi, the engagement—”

“You don’t have to explain,” she said quickly, voice steady but low. “I understand.”

His face tensed. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. Things got… complicated. And I didn’t want to lose what we had.”

“Had?” she echoed. “Was that night just a moment for you, Saksham? A mistake?”

“No. It meant something—everything.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me the truth?” Her voice cracked. “You made me believe in something sacred. And all along, you were promised to someone else.”

He exhaled, guilt etched across his face. “I didn’t plan for this.”

“But you let it happen.”

A silence stretched between them, thick with regret.

“Then let it end,” Gopika said, the words tasting like ash. “You will marry Ashi.”

He froze. “What? No. Don’t say that. Gopika—I love you.”

She looked at him, and everything in her wanted to believe him. Wanted to fall. But she remembered Mithila’s words—no, Krishna’s wisdom. Right over easy. Dharma over desire.

“And I love you,” she admitted. “That’s why I’m doing this.”

He shook his head, desperate. “You’re choosing her?”

“I’m choosing what’s right. I’m choosing peace—for everyone.”

He looked broken. “This isn’t fair.”

“It’s not,” she agreed. “But dharma rarely is.”

Saksham stared at her, thunderstruck. “No… you don’t mean that.” His voice cracked. “You’re angry, hurt, but you don’t mean it.”

But she didn’t flinch. Her tear-rimmed eyes held his gaze with heartbreaking steadiness.

“I mean every word,” she replied. “You have to marry Ashi.”

Saksham stepped back as if struck, the air suddenly too heavy to breathe. “You think I can just forget what we had? That it meant nothing?”

“Maybe it did,” she said softly. “But it was built on a lie I didn’t know I was living.”

“Gopika—” He reached out.

She stepped away.

“You let me believe I was safe,” she whispered. “You let me believe I was the only one, when you knew you were promised to someone else. To my cousin.”

“I was going to end the engagement—”

“But you didn’t,” she cut in. “You waited. Maybe you thought I wasn’t important enough to deserve the truth.”

“No,” Saksham breathed, his eyes pleading. “You were the only truth I knew. That’s why I… That’s why I made love to you.”

Her hands balled into fists.

“And that’s why it hurts more.”

A heavy silence hung between them.

Gopika’s voice came gentler now, but resolute. “Ashi still believes this marriage is real. She still hopes. Baa, Ramila Mami—everyone does. You and I… we started with a sin. Let’s not end in scandal.”

“You’re asking me to lie to myself,” Saksham said bitterly. “To live with someone I don’t love while the woman I do love walks away.”

Gopika blinked hard.

“Maybe,” she whispered, “that’s how our story was meant to be. Some hearts aren’t meant to be kept. Just… given away, silently.”

He shook his head. “I won’t survive it.”

“You will,” she said. “You must.”

Saksham’s eyes filled as he slowly knelt—not in reverence, but ruin.

“If I do this,” he said, voice hollow, “know it’s only because you asked. Not for Ashi. Not for anyone else.”

“I know,” she murmured. “And maybe one day, we’ll both forgive ourselves.”

Behind them, the diya flickered—as if watching.

Far away, the shankh sounded again, a divine reminder echoing through the still corridors of Modi Bhavan.

And in that moment, something old ended—quietly, painfully. And something fated began.

Gopika turned, walking away as dusk turned to night.

Behind her, the wind whispered through the leaves. The Kanha idol on the terrace caught the fading light—its flute glinting gently, almost in approval.

And somewhere within the shadows of Modi Bhavan, Mithila Modi stood still. Watching.

-----

To be continued.