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That would still be futile. I know Meher also wants Dad to recover fully before we enjoy some private time together.
I hear the sound of a car pulling up outside, and before I can wonder who it is, Meher barges into the house. Why is she back so soon? I was supposed to pick her up from Walia House later this evening. The expression on her face tells me that something is terribly wrong. Without delay, I walk over to Meher, and our footsteps come to a halt as we meet halfway. She looks at me with teary eyes.
Meher? What’s wrong?” I cup her face. “Why are you back so soon? Is everything fine? Are you okay?”
As soon as I inquire about her, Meher throws her arms around me and hugs me tightly. Her sobs fill the room’s silence. This is the first time I’ve seen her so vulnerable, unlike her usual self. She appeared perfectly fine when she left the house a little while ago.
“Meher, you’re making me worry, baby,” I whisper, holding her close.
I’m anxious to know what has upset her so much that she couldn’t even control her tears until she reached our bedroom. Dad and Bhaskar uncle are still here, and though they are equally curious to know what happened, they maintain their distance so I can comfort her.
The moment Meher hugged me and started crying, Krish left to check with Trisha about what went wrong at the Walia House.
“Shh,” I stroke Meher’s head, gently kissing her hair. “It’s okay. Calm down.”
“I can’t,” she finally manages to speak through her sobs. “I can’t believe—” she breaks down again.
“Take a deep breath first and tell me what happened,” I say, cupping her face and encouraging her to speak.
“Ayaan,” she murmurs, gazing into my eyes as if seeking strength from me to muster the courage to speak. “Ayaan, Vishnu is... Vishnu is my father’s son. He is a Walia. He…he is my half-brother.”
Meher’s words hang in the air like an ominous storm, casting a dark shadow over everything.Vishnu… her half-brother, a Walia!My heart thunders inside my chest, as this wasn’t how I anticipated this news to be revealed. It should have been either Pratap Walia, Vishnu or me to tell her about it. Yes, me. I was already aware of this truth. It’s a revelation I stumbled upon just before our marriage, but hearing it from her lips still hits me like a bolt of lightning.
How did Meher know about this? I am completely disoriented and unable to frame my thoughts clearly. She looks at me with teary eyes, searching for a reaction or an explanation. As soon as she senses my hesitation, her sadness quickly turns into suspicion. It’s like a switch has been flipped inside her, causing her tears to stop abruptly.
“You knew about this?” She questions, her voice quivering with both hurt and anger.
My throat feels parched, my tongue heavy. I should say something, anything, but the words remain trapped in my mouth. Meher, seeing my silence, becomes even more furious. She clenches her fists and starts hitting my chest, not forcefully but with obvious frustration.
“You knew this, and you didn’t tell me?” She’s almost seething, her voice trembling with an intensity I’ve rarely seen in her. “How could you, Ayaan? I can’t believe you, of all people, could hide this from me.”
“Meher, please, let me explain,” I try to grasp her wrists.
She shakes me off and retorts, “Not a word now. When you should have told me, you didn’t. There’s no excuse for this, Ayaan. You knew this?”
She steps back as if questioning herself about how I could have kept this information from her until she discovered it from some unknown source. The anger in her eyes is evident, but she soon realises that pursuing this argument further in front of my father and Bhaskar Uncle, who are witnessing everything, isn’t wise. They are equally taken aback by this shocking revelation, especially my father, who appears lost in thought. However, right now, my entire focus is on Meher, who is clearly upset with me once again.
With a final stern glance, she wipes her tears and tries to move away, but I gently grasp her arms and keep her in place.
“Let me go,” she struggles.
“No. Please, just hear me out first,” I implore. “You know I always had my suspicions about Vishnu. That’s why I asked Krish to dig into his past to find anything that might ease my concern about his unwavering loyalty to your father and his overprotectiveness toward you.”
Meher looks at me with frustration, as if anything I say now to justify my actions won’t make a difference to her.
“His background was just too clean, too polished to be true, Meher,” I continue. “Someone had erased his childhood, his past. It was as if a slate had been wiped clean, and only someone with substantial authority and influence could do that. And that too for a very good reason. Your father!”
Meher swallows hard, disheartened by my words.
“Given your father’s political standing, we were certain that he was the one who had somehow provided Vishnu with a new identity, the details of which we could access only from the time he joined your father as a bodyguard over a decade ago. There was no other information about who Vishnu was or what he did before joining hands with your father. So, understanding why Pratap Walia would do something like that became even more crucial to me. We delved into your father’s past, and that’s how we found traces of his prior involvement with a woman named—”
“Vandita,” Dad interjects suddenly, stepping forward.
I nod. How does Dad know her?
“Are you saying that Vishnu is Vandita and Pratap’s son?” Dad asks me, equally astonished.
“Yes, Dad. Krish’s sources eventually decoded that information. His mother’s name is Vandita, and he is Pratap Walia’s son.”
