NOOR

I sat down on the floor, my back pressing against the cold door, knees pulled up to my chest as I hugged them tightly. Resting my head atop them, a traitorous tear slipped down my cheek and fell to the floor.

My heart felt unbearably heavy—so heavy I couldn’t feel anything else except the sting of betrayal. I wanted to speak, even if only to myself, but it felt like I had lost my voice. My mind was exhausted—no, it was tired. Drained.

What was my fault?

Was loving him my fault?

Was cherishing him my fault?

Was trusting him my fault?

Tears welled up again as memories of what happened in the office resurfaced. Was it really wrong to love someone so deeply that it hurt?

Where did I go wrong?

My thoughts were interrupted by a knock, followed by my brother’s voice.

“Noor bacha, open the door. Why did you run like that?”

“Bacha, at least tell us what happened,” Papa said.

“Noor, my baby... come to mamma and tell us what happened,” came Mamma’s voice.

“Noor, open the door, princess,” Kiaan bhai pleaded.

“Di, please open the door,” Luv added softly.

They must’ve been stunned when I ran like that—bolting the moment I heard Piyush say that. I didn’t know why I reacted that way, but I just couldn’t stand there after hearing it. I couldn’t breathe.

So I ran.

I didn’t return to the palace. I came home—where, at least for a little while, I could feel safe and protected.

I shut my eyes, letting the tears fall freely.

I don’t deserve this.

I don’t deserve their love.

I don’t deserve this family.

I don’t deserve anyone.

He was right.

No man can love me.

No man will love me.

Who would want someone with nothing but a dreadful past, a scarred body, and a soul so broken it hurts those closest to her?

He was right.

I didn’t know what I had done to deserve this pain.

I just loved him. Trusted him. And he… cheated. He destroyed me.

I didn’t know how long I sat there, grieving over my lost love.

Then I felt it—warmth. From the other side of the door.

Like someone was sitting there.

And then… I heard him. His voice—calm, grounding, comforting.

“Noor? Please open the door.”

Ashrit.

Why is he here?

Wait—

Does he know everything?

Oh God. I’m not ready to face him. Not now.

“Go away!” I screamed. My voice came out hoarse, louder than I intended. But the warmth didn’t disappear. It stayed—quiet, steady, supportive.

“Oh my God, Ranaji, why are you sitting on the floor? Please get up!” I heard my mother’s voice.

I ignored it.

“It’s okay, Mrs. Mehrotra. I’m fine here,” Ashrit replied.

I ignored that too.

A few minutes later… the warmth was gone.

He must’ve left.

Good.

He should.

But even as I told myself he should leave…

Even as I convinced myself it was good…

A strange emptiness filled the silence he left behind.

The warmth—his warmth—had left with him. And suddenly, the cold that clung to the door behind my back seems unbearable.

I buried my face deeper into my knees, trying to breathe through the ache in my chest. But the silence was deafening now.

He didn’t knock again.

He didn’t call out my name.

He didn’t say he’d wait.

He just left.

And that… hurt more than I expected.

I let out a choked breath, the kind that rattled through the soul. I shouldn’t care. I told him to leave. He was only doing what I asked. What right did I have to feel disappointed?

Minutes passed. Maybe hours. I didn’t know.

Eventually, the voices outside faded. One by one, they stopped knocking, stopped calling. I heard Mamma urging everyone to let me rest. Heard Papa’s footsteps move down the hallway.

I was alone again. Just me… and my pain.

And then—

A soft thud.

On my balcony door.

I froze.

A second passed,

Then another and I heard it A soft thud again.

“ Noor? Please open it, let me see your face”

My breath caught in my throat. When my eyes fell on the shadow behind the translucent glass…

My heart skipped.

I blinked through the tears. His shadow was unmistakable. Broad shoulders. Calm posture. Still. Waiting.

Ashrit.

He didn’t leave.

He just… found another way in.

A part of me wanted to crawl further into the darkness—to stay buried in my ache and humiliation. But the other part… the shattered part that still craved warmth, safety, and understanding—it leaned toward him.

I slowly turned my head, my cheek still resting on my knees, and whispered, “Why?”

Why is he still here?

Why does he care?

When am I just a replacement for him? I was nothing to him then why?

“Please open the door, Noor,” he said, his voice muffled but clear through the glass. “You don’t have to say anything. Just let me see you. That’s all.”

I shut my eyes tightly. His voice sounded like a balm over an open wound. But even kindness hurts right now.

“I look like a mess,” I Said, the first words I’d spoken in hours. My throat was dry, my voice hoarse.

“I don’t care how you look,” he said instantly. “I care how you feel.”

And that… broke me.

Because no one had ever said that to me before.

For a few moments, I just sat there, heart hammering, fingers trembling.

Then, slowly, as if each movement took all the strength left in me, I got up from the floor and walked to the balcony door. My knees wobbled. My fingers hovered over the latch. The weight of shame, heartbreak, and fear made even that feel like lifting a mountain.

But I opened it.

Just a crack.

Just enough to see him.

And there he was—Ashrit.

Standing in the pale moonlight, eyes filled with something I couldn’t name. Not pity. Not guilt. Something far deeper. Something softer.

He didn’t speak.

He didn’t ask questions.

He just looked at me like I mattered. Like I wasn’t broken beyond repair.

The breeze tugged at my hair, but I didn’t feel cold anymore. Not when his eyes were holding me.

I slowly moved back and he entered inside, closing the door behind him.

“ Why are you here?” I asked him, the first thing that came into my mind. His lips curled at the ends, as he said, his voice soft and calm,

“ For you, to stay beside you”

I looked away, biting my inner cheek , trying to hold back the Storm inside me.

“ For me?” I whispered, “ why?”

Ashrit didn’t move closer. He didn’t try to touch me or invade the space. He just stood there, hands tucked into his coat pockets, his eyes still locked on mine with unwavering calm.

“Because,” he began, his voice low, steady, “I know what it’s like… to break silently.”

My gaze snapped to his. He wasn’t smiling anymore. There was something raw in his expression now—something unspoken.

“I know what it’s like to keep everything inside because you think no one would understand. To feel like your pain will make others uncomfortable. To think you're too much… or not enough.” His eyes softened further.

“And I know how hard it is to let someone in when you’ve convinced yourself you're unworthy of love.”

My lips trembled. I looked away again, blinking fast. The tears threatened to fall once more.

“I never asked for any of this,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

“I know,” he said gently. “You just loved someone. That’s not a crime.”

“But it feels like one,” I confessed. “It feels like I made a mistake so big, I don’t know how to fix it. Like I handed him every part of me and he—he shattered it. I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

Ashrit took a small step forward—not enough to crowd me, just enough to let me feel him there.

“You’re Noor,” he said quietly. “The same Noor who lights up every room without trying. The same Noor who once stood up for a stranger, who carries everyone’s pain and forgets her own. You are not broken. You are bruised, yes—but you’re still here.”

That broke me.

Not in a devastating way, but in a quiet way. Like someone had finally touched the right thread and let the tightly wound grief slowly unravel.

“I don’t know how to be okay again,” I whispered, a single tear sliding down.

“You don’t have to be okay today,” he said, walking up to me now, his movements slow and careful. “You just have to let someone stay while you figure it out.”

And then, gently—so gently—he held out his hand.

Not demanding.

Not expecting.

Just offering.

“I’ll stay,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “If you let me.”

“ Why?” I asked him, my teary gaze locking into him

“ Why do you want to stay, when I am just a replacement for you?”

Something flashed in his eyes, as his eyes widened for a split second, “you heard it,?”

I nodded.

He inhaled deeply before, taking my hand in his gently as he walked towards the bed and sat on it, then he motioned me too. Once I sat down, he pulled out a napkin from his pocket and handed it to me.

I accepted it,…my fingers brushing against his, lingering a moment longer than they should have. I wiped my cheeks slowly, trying to calm the storm inside me, but my heart still throbbed with the weight of his words from earlier.

He stayed quiet for a while, his eyes on the floor, as if collecting the right words, or maybe the courage to speak them.

Finally, he said, “Noor… what you heard back there, it wasn’t what it sounded like.”

I let out a bitter laugh. “Isn’t that always what people say when they’re caught?”

He looked at me then—really looked at me—and there was no arrogance, no defense in his eyes. Just… regret.

“You’re not a replacement,” he said firmly.

“ Yes, I used that word, but it was not what I really meant. It was necessary to say it back there …..to save you”

“ You didn't deny it either.” I said my voice cracking. “You ignored me for days and now it's weeks, you don't know how i felt all those weeks.”

He looked down, as if he was…ashamed to face me and for the first time, I saw a new Ashrit today — not that hot headed, ruthless boss but someone who is soft and calm.

“ I know, Noor. I tried to talk to you, I tried to clear things between us but… I couldn't. Because I was scared to lose you.” he paused and looked at me.

“ The palace isn't a good place, Noor. It's dangerous. There are people who can hurt you, and I can't take that risk. I can't see you in pain…. And that's why I chose distance over everything.”

I gripped the napkin tightly in my fist.

“I didn’t come here to explain or excuse,” he continued, softer now. “I came because I couldn’t stay away knowing you’re hurting—because I saw what my silence did to you. And I want to fix that. If you’ll let me.”

I looked at him, my heart torn between the comfort of his words and the pain of what I’d heard.

“You didn’t deny it… but now you say I matter.”

“You do,” he said immediately. “You always did. And not because you’re someone’s shadow, or because you filled a space. You matter because you’re you. Noor. And I see you.”

Tears welled in my eyes again—not from pain this time, but from something dangerously close to hope.

“ I don't know if I can trust again, after what piyush did to me” i whispered.

Ashrit's jaw clenched at the mention of Piyush’s name. A shadow passed through his expression—one filled with silent fury and helplessness—but when he looked at me again, it was gone, replaced by something gentler.

“I know,” he said, his voice barely a breath. “And I’m not asking you to trust me today, or tomorrow, Noor. I’m just asking you to give me a chance… to show you what trust should feel like.”

He reached out slowly, cautiously, as though afraid I’d flinch. His hand hovered near mine on the bed, not touching, just offering.

“You’ve been hurt, betrayed, and made to believe you’re unworthy of love. But that’s not the truth. That was never the truth.”

I stared at his hand, and for a long moment, I didn’t move. The silence swelled again between us—but this time it wasn't heavy. It was tender, fragile… like something waiting to bloom.

He whispered again, “You deserve love that doesn’t make you question your worth. You deserve someone who stays—not someone who walks away.”

I turned my face away, blinking back the tears, but a lone drop escaped and slid down my cheek. His thumb gently brushed it away before I could stop him.

“I’m not Piyush,” he said, his voice firm now. “And I’m not here to replace your pain with promises. I’m here to be present—for whatever you need. Even if that’s silence. Even if it’s just… sitting beside you, night after night.”

My chest ached, torn between the pieces of my broken trust and the warmth of his sincerity.

“I don’t know if I can love again,” I whispered, almost like a confession.

Ashrit gave me the faintest smile—soft, real, heartbreaking in its patience.

“Then don’t,” he said. “Not until you’re ready. I’ll wait. I’ll wait as long as it takes.”

And with that, he didn’t move closer, didn’t force his presence.

He just sat there—beside me, steady and still.

Not fixing me.

Just staying.

For the first time in what felt like forever, I let myself breathe.

“But what if Jiya di comes back?” I asked out of nowhere, my tears were already streaming again before I could stop them. My voice cracked with the weight of the fear I hadn’t dared to voice aloud till now.

Ashrit stilled, his expression hardening and then he let out a slow, measured breath. His fingers curled slightly, as if restraining something within himself.

“She won’t,” he said quietly. “And even if she did…”

He turned to me fully now, his gaze anchoring mine with an intensity that made it impossible to look away.

“Even if she did come back, I wouldn’t choose her, because I never did..”

I blinked, stunned. My lips parted but no words came out. I hadn’t expected him to say it—not with that finality, that conviction.

“ Why won't you choose her? Your family chose her not me, no one in your family likes me except your grandparents.”

Ashrit signed, as he took my hand in his,

“ I just accepted to marry her because I need to become king. And for that I needed to marry someone. And my parents just chose her after seeing her fake sweetness.”

“ And about you Noor, just give them time. I promise to solve everything”

I looked at him stunned,with my teary gaze

“ You don't love her?” I asked, almost shocked.

“ What??!!” He looked at me stunned, as if I asked a weird question.

“ I thought you loved her,” I mumbled.

Ashrit’s brows furrowed, his grip on my hand tightening just a little, as though the idea of me believing that genuinely hurt him.

“Noor,” he said slowly, almost disbelievingly, “how could you even think that?”

I dropped my gaze, ashamed. “Because you looked… comfortable with her. The way your family praised her, the way you stood next to her in all those functions… it felt like you belonged togethe—”

“Stop.” His voice was firm now, almost pained. He reached out, lifting my chin so I was forced to meet his eyes again.

“I was never comfortable. I was surviving. Fulfilling expectations. That’s not belonging, Noor. That’s duty.”

Before i could ask anything, he said,

“ Mrs. Raghuvanshi, get this in your little brain.

She was nothing to me. I even prepared divorce papers, so I could divorce her after my crowning ceremony. And I am really thankful to God that I married you.I know the circumstances weren't good but you are still my wife and always will be.”

My breath hitched, at his words. Damn he is so straightforward.

I stared at him, stunned, my breath catching in my throat. Divorce papers? Married me? Thankful?

“Y-You prepared divorce papers?” I echoed, my voice barely a whisper.

He nodded once, his jaw tight. “Yes. I was never going to keep living a lie. Not with her. And definitely not when you—” He paused, his voice softening—“when you existed.”

I was quiet. My heart pounded in my chest, loud and uneven. I wanted to believe him—God, I wanted to—but…

“But Ashrit,” I said shakily, “what if your parents never accept me? What if they never see me the way they saw her?”

He took a step closer, his fingers gently brushing the side of my face.

“Then I’ll make them see. I’ll fight for you, Noor. For us. I should’ve done it earlier. But I won’t fail again.”

He looked at me like I was the only thing anchoring him to the earth.

“You’re not just some woman in my life. You’re the only one who matters.”

My throat tightened as the tears returned, this time not from pain—but something else. Something heavier… softer.

“Why are you saying all this now?” I whispered.

He smiled faintly, sadly. “Because I was stupid enough to think staying silent would protect you. But now I know… silence only hurt you.”

A tear slipped down my cheek.

He leaned in, forehead resting against mine. “Let me fix this. Let me be the man you deserve.”

“Jab sab ne milkar hume aag mein dala hi hai toh saath milkar jalne mein kya sharam?” he whispered, his voice cracking with quiet desperation. “Let’s give this marriage a chance, Noor. Please.”

His words echoed in the silence around us, wrapping around me like a slow-burning fire. My heart clenched.

I let out a shaky breath, torn between the storm of emotions inside me. “You think it’s that easy?” I asked, my voice barely steady. “To forget everything—the humiliation, the rejection, The pain and your silence?”

He didn’t flinch. “No. I know it’s not. I’m not asking you to forget, Noor… just to try. With me. For us.”

My walls, built with every moment of pain and every unanswered tear, began to crack. His eyes—those damn eyes—were sincere, vulnerable. This wasn’t the cold prince the world saw. This was my Ashrit. My husband.

“ I'm scared,” I admitted.

“ I'm scared, what if You left me just like him and let me burn alone while you watch?”

He took both my hands, pressing them against his chest, over his heartbeat. “Then we burn together, Noor. But I swear to you, I won’t let go of you. I won’t leave you alone in the fire.”

Silence.

My tears spilled freely now, not out of fear… but release.

And in that moment, with his heart beating against my palms, I whispered the one thing I never thought I would say again:

“Okay… let’s burn together.”