Shadows of the past, Flames o...

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The morning sun spilled into the Singhania mansion, bathing it in a golden glow. On the balcony of her room, Rashi stood quietly, her eyes fixed on the sprawling garden below. The jasmine vines swayed gently in the breeze, their fragrance mingling with the crisp morning air. Despite the beauty around her, an ache lingered in her chest—a reminder of the distance between her and Raj.

Her fingers lightly traced the intricate carvings of the marble railing. “Maybe this is all life has to offer,” she murmured to herself, her voice barely audible. But even as she said it, a small part of her refused to believe it.

With a deep breath, she straightened her shoulders. If love wasn’t hers to claim, she would find solace in her responsibilities. She had a home to manage and a family to care for. And that, she decided, would be enough—for now.

Rashi’s day began in the kitchen, where the staff bustled about, preparing for the evening’s grand dinner. Priya had placed her in charge of the event, and Rashi was determined not to disappoint her.

“Rashi beta,” Priya called from the doorway, her face warm with approval. “The arrangements for the dining hall—are they coming along as planned?”

“Yes, Ma,” Rashi replied, her tone respectful but confident. “The decorators are on schedule. I’ve asked them to keep the gold and ivory theme understated yet elegant, just as you wanted.”

Priya smiled, her eyes glimmering with pride. “You’re a natural at this. I don’t think anyone else could’ve managed it as seamlessly as you have.”

Rashi felt a warmth in her chest at the compliment. “Thank you, Ma. I just want to do justice to the trust you’ve placed in me.”

As Priya left, Rashi turned her attention back to the preparations. She moved through the house with quiet efficiency, ensuring that every detail was perfect. Whether it was the floral arrangements in the garden or the placement of candles in the dining hall, nothing escaped her notice.

By mid-morning, Rashi was in the garden supervising the placement of bouquets when a familiar voice broke her concentration.

“Still running the house like a pro, I see.”

Rashi turned to find Kartik standing a few feet away, his hands tucked casually into the pockets of his beige trousers. His easy smile immediately brought a sense of comfort.

“Kartik Bhai!” she greeted, genuinely happy to see him. “You’re back early. I thought you’d be in Delhi for another week.”

“I couldn’t stay away too long,” he replied, his tone light. “The house feels incomplete without me, doesn’t it?”

Rashi laughed softly, shaking her head. “The house doesn’t miss a beat, but the family does. It’s good to have you back.”

Kartik sat down on a nearby bench, motioning for her to join him. “So, how’s my dear sister-in-law holding up? Ma says you’ve been handling everything like a champ.”

“I’m doing my best,” Rashi said, taking a seat beside him. “Ma has been very supportive. It makes things easier.”

Kartik’s expression softened. “You’ve done more than anyone expected, Rashi. Even Raj notices it, though he’ll never admit it.”

Rashi looked away, her fingers nervously twisting the edge of her saree. “Raj and I… We’re still figuring things out,” she said carefully, not wanting to delve too deeply into her personal struggles.

Kartik’s gaze lingered on her, a hint of concern in his eyes. “I know my brother. He’s stubborn, and he carries his wounds like armor. But don’t let that discourage you. He notices more than he shows.”

Rashi smiled faintly, though her heart remained heavy. “Thank you, Bhai. Your support means more to me than you know.”

They sat in companionable silence for a while before Kartik stood, patting her shoulder lightly. “If you ever need to talk, Rashi, I’m here. Don’t forget that.”

As the sun dipped below the horizon, Rashi oversaw the final touches for the dinner. The dining hall glowed with the soft light of golden candles, their flickering flames reflecting off the ivory tablecloths. The scent of fresh roses filled the air, mingling with the aroma of the exquisite dishes prepared by the kitchen staff.

Priya approached her, her saree shimmering under the chandelier. “It’s perfect, beta,” she said, her voice filled with genuine admiration. “I couldn’t have done it better myself.”

Rashi’s heart swelled with pride. “I’m glad you’re pleased, Ma. It’s all thanks to your guidance.”

As guests began to arrive, Rashi stood by Priya’s side, greeting each one with grace. Her soft-spoken demeanor and natural elegance did not go unnoticed. Compliments flowed freely, and Priya beamed with pride.

But even amidst the praise, Rashi’s eyes sought Raj. He arrived late, his phone pressed to his ear as he entered the hall. Dressed in a sharp charcoal-grey suit, he exuded an air of authority that commanded attention. For a brief moment, their eyes met, and something unspoken passed between them—a flicker of acknowledgment, perhaps. Then, just as quickly, he looked away, his attention drawn to a group of business associates.

Later that night, after the guests had left and the mansion had fallen silent, Rashi found herself in the kitchen, rinsing the last of the dishes. She didn’t mind the solitude—it gave her time to think.

“You didn’t have to stay up doing this.”

The voice startled her, and she turned to see Raj leaning against the doorway. His tie was loosened, and his usually composed face held a faint trace of weariness.

“It’s no trouble,” Rashi replied, setting the dish down carefully. “I wanted to make sure everything was taken care of.”

Raj stepped into the kitchen, his eyes briefly scanning the room before settling on her. “The dinner… It was well-organized. You handled it better than expected.”

Rashi blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected praise. “Thank you,” she said softly, her heart fluttering at the rare compliment.

There was a pause, and for a moment, it seemed as though Raj wanted to say more. But whatever it was, he kept it to himself. “Goodnight, Rashi,” he said finally, his tone neutral.

“Goodnight, Raj,” she replied, watching as he turned and walked away.

Later, as Rashi sat on her bed, her diary open on her lap, she let her emotions flow onto the pages.

*Today, I saw a glimpse of something in Raj—a sliver of warmth hidden beneath the layers of his cold exterior. It wasn’t much, just a few words, a fleeting moment. But it was enough to give me hope.*

She paused, her pen hovering over the paper. Then, almost instinctively, she began to write:

Raj kya kabhi bhi hum apke dil mein apni jagha bana payenge? ,
kya kabhi app hum apna kahenge?  ,
kya kabhi app humse mohabbat karenge ?
Kya hume apne inn sawalo ke jawaab mil payenge ?

Tears welled in her eyes as she read the lines back to herself.

She flipped through the pages of her diary, her fingers lingering over an old, slightly yellowed page. The date at the top read *April 15th*, marking the day her life had subtly but irrevocably changed. 

As her eyes skimmed over her teenage handwriting, the memory of that day came rushing back with vivid clarity, pulling her into the past. 

**Flashback starts**

She was seventeen, still a girl caught in the cusp of childhood and adulthood, her world filled with school, dreams, and innocent fantasies. That day, her home was abuzz with excitement. The Singhanias, family friends and respected business associates, were visiting for lunch. 

She had been helping her mother arrange flowers in the living room when the doorbell rang. Her heart had skipped a beat when Priya Singhania entered, her elegance filling the room. And then, behind her, he walked in. 

Raj Singhania. 

Tall and composed, he exuded an effortless confidence that drew everyone’s attention. He wore a crisp white shirt paired with dark jeans, the rolled-up sleeves revealing strong, veined forearms. His thick, jet-black hair was slightly tousled, and his piercing gaze swept across the room like a spotlight. 

She was standing in the corner with a rose in her hand, felt something flutter in her chest. She had seen handsome faces before, but Raj was different. There was a depth in his eyes, an intensity that seemed to hold secrets. Her throat dried up, and her fingers fumbled with the rose, pricking herself on a thorn. 

“Careful,” her elder sister teased softly, nudging her. “You’re staring.” 

Rashi’s cheeks burned, and she turned away, feeling foolish. Yet her heart thudded in a strange rhythm she had never experienced before.   

Throughout lunch, Rashi tried to steal glances at him. He mostly kept to himself, occasionally nodding politely at her parents’ questions. It was clear he wasn’t one for small talk, though he wasn’t impolite. 

Her sister, on the other hand, seemed to catch his attention easily. Raj smiled a little at something she said, his expression softening. He even chuckled once, and Rashi’s stomach twisted. "Why doesn’t he ever look at me?" she thought bitterly. 

Raj’s attention, however, was often drawn to his phone. Every few minutes, he would glance at the screen, his lips curling into a faint, adorable smile. Rashi noticed this and felt an odd ache in her chest. She didn’t know who he was texting, but the happiness on his face made her feel strangely… excluded. 

Her younger self had written about this moment in the diary she now held, the pain and confusion captured in shaky handwriting: 

“He smiled at his phone more than at anyone here. I wanted him to talk to me, just once, but he didn’t even notice me. Maybe I’m just invisible to him.”

She remembered excusing herself from the table, retreating to her room, and staring at the ceiling as her feelings swirled inside her. She couldn’t understand what this strange sensation was at the time, but as days turned into weeks, the truth became clear—she had a crush on Raj. 

The next time Raj visited, Rashi had been both excited and nervous. She spent extra time brushing her hair, choosing a simple yet pretty outfit—a pale blue salwar kameez she thought brought out the warmth in her skin. 

He arrived late that day, walking in with his phone in hand, an apologetic smile on his face as he greeted her parents. Rashi’s heart skipped again, but her excitement quickly turned to disappointment. 

Raj didn’t even glance her way. 

Instead, he spoke casually with her sister, cracking jokes and asking her about college. His demeanor was polite, not overly familiar, but still warm enough to make Rashi feel a sharp pang of jealousy. 

Why does he talk to her and not me?

That day, Rashi had resolved to at least try to talk to him, to say something that would make him notice her. But every time she mustered the courage to approach, he was either on his phone or engaged in conversation with someone else. 

The last straw came when she walked into the garden, where he was sitting on a bench under the shade of a tree. She paused, watching him from a distance. He looked so at ease, his head tilted slightly as he read something on his phone, his lips curving into that soft, rare smile again. 

But then her eyes caught a name on the screen—*Maya♥️*

Rashi didn’t know who Maya was, but the sight of that name hit her harder than she had expected. She turned away quickly, pretending she hadn’t seen anything, and went back inside. 

**Flashback ends** 

Rashi closed the diary and placed it gently on her lap. The memory of her teenage self—a girl so full of hope and naivety—brought a wistful smile to her lips. She had been so innocent then, her emotions so raw and unfiltered. 

“Seventeen-year-old me didn’t know how complicated life and love could be,” she murmured to herself. 

But the sting of those memories still lingered. Even now, years later, the pain of being invisible to him, of not mattering enough, hadn’t fully faded. It was ironic that she was now his wife, sharing a life with him, yet still feeling the ache of being unseen. 

Rashi sighed deeply, closing her eyes as her hand brushed against the diary’s worn cover. Despite everything, that moment in her life had been pivotal. It had taught her the bittersweet beauty of unspoken emotions and the resilience of a heart that dared to dream. 

She closed the diary gently, placing it back in the drawer. The room felt heavy with unspoken words and unrealized dreams, but Rashi clung to the faint hope that one day, Raj might see her—not as a duty, but as someone who truly mattered. 

*

Hey guys this is it for this chapter hope you all enjoyed it... There is an announcement that soon I am completing my first book "Bound by Vows, Broken by Pride" you can read it by clicking on my profile.
Second that I am writing new book currently the characters will be "Yug Rajvanshi and Samaira Singhania" Samaira Singhania is the sister of Raj Singhania.
Samaira Singhania is the same character (Ira Mehra's bestfriend from the book Bound by Vows,Broken by Pride)

Third i didn't upload any chapter in previous week so I will upload one more chapter after this as a compensation;)...

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