The conference hall was buzzing. Dignitaries, businessmen, politicians — all had gathered. The party was in full swing.
As soon as Anay and Shrey stepped inside, every eye turned toward them.
Anay's stern face, heavy gait, and those cold yet smoldering eyes —"Anay Thakur" had once again become the center of everyone's attention.In a black suit, he looked absolutely devastating.
Shrey, walking a few steps behind, ran a hand through his hair and flashed his charming smile at everyone, oozing confidence.
"Come, come, Anay Thakur… It's been a while,"Mr. Rana greeted him warmly, extending a hand.
Anay shook it calmly —"Congratulations, Mr. Rana… your son is finally married. Now you can breathe easy."
Mr. Rana chuckled."All that's fine… but when will you get married?"
Anay's smile deepened, though his eyes dimmed a little —"I'm not interested in marriage, Mr. Rana…"
"Oh come on! Tell me — I'll find you the girl of your dreams!"
Anay muttered to himself —"I only loved once… whether we met or not, was fate…"A faint, incomplete smile lingered on his lips.
"Aha, that smile! You do have someone, don't you?"Mr. Rana teased, winking.
Just then, Anay's eyes shifted —Rudraksh and Advika were walking in.
But his gaze… it locked onto Advika alone.
Draped in a red Banarasi saree, a maroon shawl draped over one shoulder, red glass bangles, jasmine in her hair…The very image of the woman Anay had once imagined as his wife.
His breath caught.
A storm rose in his chest. His heart raced.He simply couldn't look away.
It was a good thing Shrey wasn't near him right then —because had he been, he would have read every emotion in Anay's eyes.
But Advika had noticed.
She was confused…How could Anay look at her like that if he didn't remember anything?Just like he used to, back then.
"Anay, meet him — this is Rudraksh Rajvansh,"Mr. Rana introduced.
Anay snapped out of his daze, looked away, and faced Rudraksh.
"Hello, Mr. Anay Thakur,"Rudraksh offered his hand.
Anay shook it, gave a quick "Excuse me," and walked off alone.
In solitude, Anay tried to collect himself.
"What are you doing, Anay…?She belongs to someone else now…How can you still look at her… still feel this way?"
"These emotions are only mine… one-sided…My love has no future…All I ever had was the wait — and I've accepted it."
"I am both the lover and the love…My love is complete in me alone.It needs no fulfillment."
"This love has become a devotion now…Only death can part me from it…"
Shrey found Anay standing in the garden behind the building, bathed in soft light, gazing intently at the flowers.
"What are you doing here? Everyone inside is asking about you,"he said, placing a hand on Anay's shoulder.
Anay glanced at him briefly, then walked back in without a word.
Shrey followed.
The event was winding down.
Laughter, chatter, and the buzz of goodbyes filled the hall.But Shrey's eyes were locked on the Sarpanch —who stood eerily silent.
What surprised Shrey more was that Advika stood right across from him,and yet, the Sarpanch didn't even flinch.
Thousands of questions stormed his mind.Why was he so calm? Was he plotting something?
But then Shrey took a breath and calmed himself.
"Until he makes a move, I won't either.This isn't my fight. I only care about Anay. Only Anay…"
Returning home, Shrey finally felt some relief.But Anay paced his room restlessly, feeling like something had slipped through his fingers… but what?
Meanwhile, deep in sleep, Shrey's phone buzzed.
Half-asleep, he answered —"Hello?"
"Hello, sir…"It was a trembling voice — Mouli's.
"The girl?!"Shrey sat bolt upright.
"Sorry for disturbing you… Baba is really unwell… no one here will help us…"Her voice cracked.
"What? I'm coming,"he said without a second thought, grabbed his jacket, and dashed out.
From his balcony, Anay saw him leave.
His eyes narrowed.
Without a word, he instructed a few men to follow him.
He didn't show it — but he cared.
Meanwhile, Shrey reached Mouli's house.
The door was half-open. Inside, the sound of sobs.
He hurried in."Mouli!"
She looked up at him, teary-eyed, sitting on the floor beside her father, who lay unconscious on a cot — blood at his lips.
"We need to get him to a hospital—now!"Shrey said, rushing forward.
"You bring the car… I'll carry him…"she said.
Without a word, Shrey gently moved her aside and lifted her father himself.
People from the neighborhood peeked out in shock.
The Shrey Thakur — who bowed to no one, never helped anyone, never spoke with softness —was now carrying a poor, old man in his arms.
Mouli ran behind him, tears streaming down her face.