Taqdeer ~ A SOTY FF [Completed] - Page 5

Why does he feel the need to push her away and ruin his image? Its better if he just told the truth and let her decide what she wants. He is sacrificing so much, so let it be known that he will not interfere.

Rohan has planned well for her birthday. Is he intending another surprise at the same time? Is Abhi recovered enough to make an appearance?

The cycle repeats. Shanaya has to again choose. Both men love her. She loves both too. Which way will her heart go? How will she decide?

Went back and checked "student of the Year". In that one, it seemed she had picked Rohan. Maybe I missed something. Doesn't matter though. You can still follow the emotions as they chart through this.

Chapter 11 (Hearts in the Balance)

Crossroads of the Heart

Sunlight streamed through the Singh Mansion windows, painting the drawing room in soft gold. Shanaya sat quietly, Abhimanyu beside her in the wheelchair, his hand resting gently over hers. The joy of his return was undeniable, yet a quiet unease settled in her chest. Her thoughts flickered to Rohan—his presence, his restraint, the silent devotion that had carried her through the past days. Her heart had moved on from Abhimanyu; she no longer felt the love she once had. Still, the contrast between her past and present stirred complex emotions.

Rohan entered the room, careful, composed, though every step betrayed a tension he refused to show. He greeted Shanaya with a polite smile, eyes lingering on her as if reading the mixture of relief and lingering conflict in her expression.

“Good morning,” he said softly, voice steady yet warm.

“Good morning,” Shanaya replied, her gaze shifting between him and Abhimanyu. She felt the unspoken thread connecting Rohan and herself—the devotion, the care, the nights spent in silent protection—and it made her chest tighten.

Abhimanyu’s gaze met Rohan’s briefly. A flicker of acknowledgment passed between the two men—a silent recognition of sacrifices made, of the invisible balance between love, duty, and loyalty. Neither spoke it aloud, yet both knew the delicate equilibrium they navigated.

Shanaya cleared her throat, breaking the silence. “Rohan… you’ve done so much. I… I can’t thank you enough.”

Rohan offered a small, measured smile. “You don’t need to. Seeing you happy… that’s enough for me.”

Her eyes softened, and she knew he could sense the shift in her heart. She no longer belonged to Abhimanyu in the way she once had, yet she remained compassionate, aware of his vulnerability.

Abhimanyu spoke gently, unaware of the depth of the unspoken tension. “Shanaya… I’ve been gone too long. There’s so much I want to say, so much I need to do.”

Shanaya’s hand squeezed his lightly. “I know. And we’ll face it together,” she said, though her glance toward Rohan carried a silent message—one of protection, acknowledgment, and restraint.

Rohan felt the sharp pang of distance, the reminder that love sometimes demanded patience and silence. “I’ll give you your space,” he said quietly. “I’ll always… be here, watching over you both. That’s all I can promise.”

Shanaya nodded, grateful yet pained. She longed to comfort him as he had comforted her, but the moment was delicate, fragile, and fraught with emotional complexity.

Tensions of the Heart

The days that followed Abhimanyu’s return became a delicate dance—care, boundaries, and the slow rebuilding of routine. Shanaya attended to him, celebrating small victories, offering gentle encouragement, yet her interactions were always mindful of Rohan, who hovered silently in the margins, protective and patient.

One evening, as Abhimanyu rested after a morning of physical therapy, Shanaya wandered into the garden. The air was crisp, scented with jasmine from the climbing vines. Rohan followed silently, almost unnoticed.

“You’re quiet today,” Shanaya said softly, sensing his presence.

“I’m just… watching,” he replied, voice calm but low, almost meant only for her.

Shanaya looked at him, really looked, and felt the familiar ache. There was warmth in his gaze, an intensity that reminded her of the nights he had held her close—the intimacy that was theirs alone, though fleeting.

“Rohan… why do you… stay?” she asked, voice trembling slightly. “Why do you keep helping… while holding yourself apart?”

Rohan’s jaw tightened. “Because it’s the right thing,” he said quietly. “Even if my heart wants to claim you, I can’t—not when he still needs you.”

Shanaya’s heart twisted. She no longer loved Abhimanyu the way she had, yet she was determined to protect Rohan from the subtle pain of his boldness, to honor his quiet sacrifice.

“I… I don’t know how to feel,” she whispered. “Part of me is grateful to you… part feels guilty… and part… I just miss you. I don’t understand it.”

“You don’t have to understand it,” Rohan murmured. “You just have to live your life, be happy… and let me bear the weight of what I cannot have.”

Shanaya’s fingers twitched, aching to close the invisible distance—but the memory of Abhimanyu’s fragility restrained her. Yet the pull toward Rohan remained undeniable, magnetic, impossible to ignore.

That night, Rohan stayed late, ensuring the house was quiet, orderly. He found Shanaya by the balcony, staring at the stars.

“You shouldn’t be up,” he said softly.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she admitted. “There’s too much in my mind… too many things I don’t know how to sort.”

He stepped closer, careful, respectful. “Shanaya… whatever you feel, it’s okay. Your heart… it’s allowed to be complicated.”

She met his gaze. “And yours, Rohan? You… you’ve stayed silent, patient, always here… but I can see it in your eyes. You want something, don’t you?”

Rohan’s throat tightened. “I want… everything,” he admitted, voice barely audible. “But I can’t take it from him. Not while he still needs you. My heart… it stays hidden, even as it bleeds.”

Shanaya reached out instinctively, her hand hovering near his chest. “Rohan… I…” She faltered, torn between the longing to reach him and the duty to honor the past and the present.

“I’ll wait,” he whispered, voice raw. “I’ll wait until it’s right… even if forever.”

Her chest ached with longing, guilt, and clarity. Her heart had moved on from Abhimanyu, and yet Rohan’s quiet, unwavering devotion demanded recognition. She understood the depth of his love, the silent sacrifice that had shaped her days.

As the night stretched around them, a single truth crystallized: love did not obey reason. It demanded presence, honesty, courage—and sometimes, the courage to wait.

Under the soft glow of moonlight, Shanaya and Rohan lingered in silence, bound by trust, longing, and the unspoken promise that, when the time came, hearts could find their way to each other without betrayal, without pain.

Shadows Between Hearts

The days passed in a quiet rhythm, each one heavier than the last. Abhimanyu’s recovery had progressed faster than expected, his strength returning with a renewed vitality that brought him closer to the man Shanaya had known before his accident.

Rohan observed from the sidelines, every smile Abhimanyu coaxed from Shanaya, every laugh they shared, twisting like a blade in his chest. He remained present, careful, managing routines and care—but the closeness he had once shared with her, the nights of laughter and whispered confessions, now felt like a distant memory.

Shanaya noticed the tension in Rohan’s gaze, the subtle ache behind his otherwise calm demeanor. She wanted to reach for him, to ease his pain—but she also recognized the reality she now lived: her heart had moved on from Abhimanyu. She couldn’t betray Rohan’s silent devotion by encouraging Abhimanyu’s advances, yet she couldn’t abandon Abhimanyu completely, not while he was recovering.

One evening, the three of them were in the living room. Shanaya helped Abhimanyu adjust in his wheelchair, brushing a loose strand of hair from his face, guiding him gently to a comfortable spot on the sofa.

“Feels good to sit here again,” Abhimanyu said, his voice warm with gratitude. “Thanks for helping me, Shanaya.”

“Of course,” she replied softly, letting her hand linger just long enough to reassure Rohan from across the room. Her gaze flicked toward him, catching the tightness in his shoulders. She wanted to tell him it was okay, that she saw his heart—but all she could do was offer a quiet, knowing glance.

Abhimanyu’s boldness had grown, fueled by his recovered strength. He leaned slightly toward her, resting a hand near hers, brushing against her fingers. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he murmured, low enough that only she could hear.

Shanaya stiffened, stepping back slightly. She could feel Rohan’s eyes on her, the silent ache she had promised to protect. “You’d be fine,” she said carefully, voice soft but firm. “But… I’ll be here to help, of course.”

Rohan’s pulse thudded painfully. He had chosen this path—stoic, protective, silent—but seeing her navigate Abhimanyu’s boldness, trying to shield his heart while remaining compassionate, was far harder than he anticipated.

Later that night, after helping Abhimanyu with his evening stretches, the house fell into a hush. The glow of lamps cast soft shadows across the walls. Abhimanyu, emboldened, reached for her hand.

“I missed this… being close to you,” he murmured, eyes bright with desire and newfound confidence.

Shanaya’s chest tightened. She felt the pull, the closeness, but also remembered Rohan—his pain, his silent sacrifice, the love he carried for her in quiet devotion. She pressed a gentle barrier between them.

“Abhi… I can’t. Not like this,” she said, voice trembling. “I… I can’t. I… I need… to think.”

Abhimanyu’s expression faltered for a heartbeat before he leaned again, brushing a kiss along her shoulder. Shanaya recoiled, heart racing, thinking of Rohan—the ache in his eyes, the loyalty he carried silently. She had to stop this before it went too far.

“I can’t,” she repeated firmly, breaking free from his grasp. She ran to the washroom, heart pounding, chest tight, needing space to steady herself before the tension completely overwhelmed her.

Abhimanyu paused at the doorway, confusion and longing mixed in his gaze. “Shanaya… wait,” he whispered, but she had already locked the door gently.

Echoes of Consequence

Alone, Shanaya sank onto the edge of the bathtub, pressing her palms to her face. The tension in her chest hadn’t eased with her retreat—if anything, it had tightened. Her stomach churned, a sudden, unsettling nausea stealing her breath. She barely had time to steady herself before she retched, the intensity leaving her shaken and trembling.

Sitting back on the cool tiles, she tried to collect herself, mind spinning. The fleeting moments with Abhimanyu were nothing compared to the memory of her nights with Rohan—the intimacy they had shared in quiet, secret ways. The warmth of his hands, the closeness that had once belonged only to them, pressed against her chest like a reminder of what her heart had truly chosen.

Her hands shook as she reached into the cabinet, pulling out a small box she had tucked away long ago—the pregnancy test she hadn’t thought she would need. Her breath caught. The thought had never crossed her mind, yet now, in the quiet solitude of the bathroom, it seemed inevitable.

With trembling fingers, she followed the instructions, heart hammering, pulse quickening. She closed her eyes for a moment, whispering a silent plea for clarity, for understanding, for a sign to help her navigate this storm.

When she opened her eyes, staring at the small window of results, a sharp, electric shock ran through her. She was pregnant.

Shanaya’s knees buckled slightly, and she sank fully to the floor. The reality struck her in waves—stunning, terrifying, and overwhelming all at once. Her mind raced back through every stolen moment with Rohan, every gentle touch and whispered confession. It had always been him. Her heart had left Abhimanyu behind long ago.

Tears pricked her eyes as she clutched the test, the room spinning around her. She could feel the weight of the revelation pressing down—not just the physical reality but the emotional ramifications. How would Rohan react? How could she navigate this tangled web of hearts and truths without shattering the fragile balance she had fought to maintain?

Pressing her forehead against the cool bathroom wall, she breathed deeply, trying to center herself. A mixture of fear, awe, and determination surged within her. She had survived storms before—this was different, heavier, yet somehow, it also felt like a testament to the love she had finally allowed herself to follow.

Shanaya whispered into the empty room, voice trembling but firm: “It’s yours, Rohan. It’s always been yours.”

Outside, the house remained quiet. In the living room, Abhimanyu’s faint movements, Rohan’s vigilant presence, the delicate rhythms of life at the Singh Mansion—all continued as they always had. But for Shanaya, nothing would ever be the same. The night carried a weight, heavy with possibilities, promises, and the echoes of a future she had only just begun to imagine.

-----

To be continued.

Chapter 12 (Fractured Loyalties)

Whispers of the Heart

Shanaya sat on the bathroom floor for what felt like hours, the tiny plastic test clutched in her trembling hands. Her mind replayed every tender touch, every whispered confession she had shared with Rohan. It had always been him—always. And now, this fragile new life was proof, a living symbol of the heart she had finally followed.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock on the bathroom door.
“Shanaya… is everything okay?” Abhimanyu’s voice drifted in, tentative but tinged with unease.

Her heart leapt into her throat. “I… I’m fine, just… resting,” she called, keeping her voice steady.

“I… I felt something… strange,” Abhimanyu admitted, a subtle worry threading through his tone. “Something seems different. Are you hiding something?”

Shanaya froze. The sudden confrontation, the edge in his voice, made her pulse spike. She hadn’t wanted him to know—not yet, not like this. “Abhi… it’s nothing. Really,” she said quickly, forcing calm into her tone.

Abhimanyu hesitated, sensing both her resistance and the unspoken truths between them. “Okay… I trust you,” he murmured softly, though a flicker of curiosity lingered in his gaze. He retreated quietly, leaving her alone again.

Shanaya sank back against the cool tiles, her chest heaving, the reality settling around her like a weight she could neither ignore nor share lightly. She had always known her heart—Rohan had been the quiet, unwavering presence that had carried her through every storm—but the knowledge that a new life had begun, a life that belonged to them, made everything more urgent, more delicate.

She couldn’t tell Abhimanyu. Not now. Not ever, perhaps. He had suffered, he had healed, and she had chosen her heart long before this revelation. Her loyalty, compassion, and the boundaries she had painstakingly maintained could not betray the truth she owed only to Rohan.

Shanaya carefully gathered herself, washing her hands, splashing water on her face, and taking a few steadying breaths. Every instinct screamed for her to find Rohan, to tell him immediately, to finally let the truth untangle the web of tension that had bound them. But fear pressed against reason—fear of misreading his reaction, of being interrupted, of Abhimanyu noticing something.

The next morning, she waited until Abhimanyu was immersed in his physical therapy, his attention focused on his exercises and the small victories that marked his recovery. She found Rohan in the garden, pruning the jasmine vines that climbed along the trellis. The morning light caught in his hair, illuminating the intensity in his eyes as he worked.

Her steps were hesitant, heart hammering. “Rohan…” she began softly, her voice trembling. He looked up immediately, a flicker of concern crossing his face as he sensed her urgency.

Shanaya swallowed hard. “I… I have something important to tell you. Something… that’s ours.”

His brow furrowed, a quiet tension threading through his stance. “Shanaya… what is it?”

Before she could speak, Abhimanyu’s voice carried from the veranda doorway, warm but tinged with subtle curiosity. “Good morning… what’s going on here?”

Shanaya froze, her hand tightening around the small cloth she had used to wipe her tears. Abhimanyu’s gaze lingered, keen, almost perceptive, as though he sensed a shift in the air between her and Rohan. The casual distance he had always maintained now felt strained; his recovered vitality seemed to sharpen his intuition.

Rohan’s shoulders stiffened slightly but remained calm, a protective presence that didn’t break the moment. He knew Abhimanyu’s instincts—he could sense things, especially when emotions ran deep.

“I… I’m just… talking,” Shanaya said quickly, forcing a lightness into her voice that didn’t reach her eyes. “Nothing important.”

Abhimanyu studied her, his expression shifting subtly from concern to quiet calculation. There was a glimmer in his eyes, a sense that he was noticing not only her secrecy but the depth of the connection between her and Rohan.

“Are you sure?” he asked softly, stepping closer, the recovery of his body giving him an easy strength. “You seem… different. Something’s changed.”

Shanaya’s heart raced. Every second counted. She wanted to pull Rohan close, tell him everything, but Abhimanyu’s proximity, his intuitive gaze, pressed against the fragile veil of secrecy she had maintained. She could feel the tension in the air, heavy and electric, and knew that one wrong word could unravel everything.

Rohan’s hand found hers instinctively, a grounding touch. “Shanaya… it’s okay,” he murmured, voice low, steadying her. “Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be here. But don’t feel forced—ever.”

Shanaya pressed her forehead to his shoulder briefly, whispering, “I just… I don’t know how to… not yet. I need a moment.”

Abhimanyu watched, sensing the quiet urgency, the connection that had always been there but was now more pronounced. He felt a subtle shift—her heart, though loyal and compassionate toward him, clearly belonged elsewhere. The realization was uncomfortable, yet tinged with an odd respect. He withdrew slightly, giving them space, yet his gaze lingered, aware that the balance of their small world was quietly tipping.

Shanaya exhaled, her pulse slowing slightly, but her mind raced. The truth was ready to be spoken, the secret ready to be shared—but timing, circumstance, and Abhimanyu’s awareness would dictate the first step.

The tension hung between the three of them like a fragile thread, taut and shimmering with unspoken truths. For Shanaya, it was the first real test of revealing her heart’s choice and the life growing inside her—careful, deliberate, and full of courage.

Shadows of Jealousy

The morning sunlight filtered softly through the Singh Mansion windows, but the warmth of the day could not reach the tension coiling tightly in Abhimanyu’s chest. He had begun noticing subtle changes—Shanaya’s lingering glances at Rohan, the quiet ease with which they shared small moments, the way her hand seemed almost magnetically drawn to his.

A strange, unfamiliar sensation gnawed at him: jealousy. Not the petty kind, but something deeper, a sharp awareness that he was no longer the center of Shanaya’s heart. The thought pricked at his pride, but more than that, it unsettled him. He could sense that something was brewing—something between Shanaya and Rohan that he hadn’t noticed before, perhaps because he had been too consumed with his own recovery.

He paced quietly in his room, the memory of the garden scene from yesterday playing over and over in his mind: Shanaya’s hand brushing against Rohan’s, the warmth in their eyes, the unspoken tension crackling like electricity between them. Abhimanyu’s jaw tightened. He couldn’t ignore it. Not anymore.

“I need to do something,” he murmured to himself, voice low and taut. “I can’t… I can’t just watch this happen.”

His thoughts immediately turned to Tanya—the girl from St. Teresa's who had once flirted with Rohan shamelessly, always teasing, always drawing attention. It was reckless, impulsive, and perhaps even cruel—but if anyone could break the growing proximity between Shanaya and Rohan, it was her.

By the afternoon, he had made up his mind. With a quiet, determined resolve, he picked up his phone and dialed.

“Tanya… it’s Abhimanyu,” he said, tone even but firm. “I need a favor. I need you to come here. And I need you to… keep Rohan occupied. For a while.”

There was a pause on the other end, followed by a mischievous laugh. “Abhi… long time no see. Are you serious?”

“Very serious,” Abhimanyu replied, his voice hardening with an intensity that left no room for argument. “Come. I’ll explain everything when you get here.”

He hung up, letting the quiet thrum of anticipation settle over him. He knew it wasn’t a perfect plan. He knew it carried risks. But watching Shanaya’s subtle attachment to Rohan grow every day was a risk he could no longer bear passively. He would act—before it was too late.

Later, in the garden, Shanaya was kneeling by the jasmine trellis, pruning carefully, Rohan beside her, leaning over to adjust a branch. Their laughter mingled with the soft rustling of leaves, a delicate harmony Abhimanyu had grown painfully aware of.

As he watched from the veranda, a twist of possessiveness and jealousy tightened in his chest. Every laugh, every shared glance, every small touch—it was evidence that the balance of hearts he had always taken for granted was shifting.

A sly plan formed in his mind. Tanya would come, Tanya would distract, and maybe—just maybe—he could reclaim some semblance of control over the situation.

The afternoon air was thick with tension as Abhimanyu turned away from the garden, already imagining Tanya’s arrival and the disruption it could cause. He had no illusions—it was manipulative, calculated, and morally gray—but his instincts screamed that action was necessary.

And so, the stage was quietly set: three hearts already in flux, with a fourth player on the way, ready to stir the delicate balance of desire, loyalty, and unspoken truths.

------

To be continued.

The men know things have shifted. Abhi might have an inkling of what has happened while he was away.

Rohan is such a gem of a person. He has buried his pain and he stays around to support both Abhi and Shanaya. He doesn't ask for anything.

Shanaya knows now that heart is now with Rohan, not Abhi. Both Rohan and Shanaya want to be there for Abhi though. To help support him through his recovery. When he is healed, the reckoning awaits.

The test changes everything. There will be a child involved now. Another life that is affected by the decisions.