The dim light of the setting sun filtered through the living room window, bathing the space in a soft amber hue. Shadows stretched gently across the floor, curling like tired fingers at the end of a long day.

Mahi sat on the couch, phone in hand, her shoulders hunched with exhaustion. Her eyes, rimmed with quiet fatigue, lingered on the screen for a moment before she tapped Atharv’s name.

The phone rang.

Her leg bounced nervously, a steady rhythm of her unease. Then, finally—his voice.

“Hello?”

Mahi let out a slow breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Her voice wavered, but she held it steady.

“I just wanted to check in... How are things going over there?”

There was a pause on the other end. Not long—but just enough for Mahi to feel like he’d heard the heaviness buried in her words.

“I know it's been tough. I’m sorry I haven’t been there to help,” Atharv said softly, concern etched into every syllable.

Mahi sighed, the sound laced with frustration, not at him—but at everything.

“It’s not your fault, Atharv. Don’t carry guilt you don’t deserve. I know you’re doing your best too. Work keeps you away—I get it.”

“I’m really sorry, Mahi. But listen to me—you’re doing everything you can. It’s going to get better. I promise.”

She exhaled again, this time sharper, like steam escaping a kettle.

“I try to talk to him… but he just shuts down. Or throws a tantrum. I feel like I’m losing control, like I don’t know how to reach him anymore.”

A silence settled between them, heavy but comforting. When Atharv spoke again, his voice was calm and low, like the stillness after a storm.

“Mahi... listen. It’s not your fault. Kids his age—they’re little storms wrapped in soft skin. He’s not angry with you, not really. He’s just... overwhelmed. Like us.”

Her eyes softened as the words sank in.

“But it feels like I’m failing him, Atharv. Like no matter what I do, it’s not enough. Maybe I’m not enough.”

“Hey. Look at me—even if it’s just in your mind. You are more than enough. You're strong, patient, kind. Advait is lucky to have you as his mum.”

Mahi felt her shoulders ease. Her chest, tight all day with tension, loosened just a little.

“I just wish it would get easier.”

“It will. I promise. I’m taking care of it. Just hold on a little longer, okay?”

A soft smile curved Mahi’s lips. Her voice was steadier now.

“You know, hearing you... it’s like you always know the right words. Like you always know how to lift the weight.”

“That’s because I know you. And I love you. And I’m here—for you and for Advait. Always.”

There was a brief silence—one not filled with tension, but with quiet love.

Her voice trembled slightly, full of unspoken fear and longing.

“I was really worried, Atharv.”

“I know. But don’t be. You’re not alone in this, Mahi. We’re a team. We’ll get through this... together.”

She breathed in deeply, his words wrapping around her like a warm shawl. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too. I’ll be home before you know it. Just keep holding on.”

They lingered in a moment of shared stillness, where words were no longer necessary. Then, Mahi gently ended the call.

She stared at the phone for a moment before whispering to herself, voice soft as dusk, “We’ll be alright.”

Setting it down on the table, she leaned back and closed her eyes, breathing in the silence. From the other room, the sound of Advait’s laughter rang out—light and carefree, like windchimes in the breeze.

And for the first time that day, Mahi smiled—not because everything was fixed, but because she knew they wouldn’t face it alone.

The campus buzzes with energy as students rush between classes, their chatter and laughter echoing across the quad. Mahi walks briskly, dressed in a simple yet elegant outfit, her expression thoughtful. Her eyes drift over the familiar buildings, the same trees that once shaded her during late-night study sessions. A soft smile plays at her lips, laced with nostalgia.

She’s so caught up in her memories that she doesn’t see the figure approaching from the opposite direction. They bump into each other, and Mahi stumbles slightly.

“Whoa, watch where you’re going.”

Startled, Mahi looks up to find herself face-to-face with a tall, sharply dressed young man. His confidence radiates, bordering on arrogance. It’s Ishan—the campus's infamous troublemaker, whose charm is rivaled only by his ego.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you there.”

“No harm done. Are you new here, or just revisiting?”

Mahi gives a small, polite nod, trying to brush past him.

“Excuse me, please. My classes are going to start.”

She takes a step forward, but Ishan smoothly moves into her path, blocking her again.

“Hold on a minute. I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. What’s your name?”

“Mahi.”

Ishan grins.

“Mahi... what a beautiful name. Nice to meet you. I’m Ishan. I’m sure you’ve heard of me.”

Mahi lets out a quiet, uncomfortable laugh.

“No, I haven’t.”

“It’s okay. You’ll get to know me soon enough. How about we catch up sometime? Maybe over coffee? I’d love to hear more about your time here.”

“No, I’m not interested.”

She offers him a firm nod and walks away. Ishan watches her disappear into the crowd, his expression a mixture of intrigue and amusement.

“Interesting.”

The next day, Mahi walks into her classroom, hugging her books to her chest. She finds an empty seat and quietly settles in. Around her, students laugh and chat, but a hush gradually falls over the room as Ishan enters. His presence, as usual, draws attention like a magnet.

His eyes scan the room—until they land on Mahi.

There’s no smug grin this time, only a curious glint as he notices her again. Mahi looks away quickly, keeping her focus on the front of the classroom.

As the professor begins the lecture, Mahi listens intently, though she can feel Ishan’s gaze drifting to her now and then. During the break, he doesn’t waste a moment before sliding his chair closer to hers.

“Didn’t expect to see you here, Mahi. Thought you were more of a ‘just passing through’ kind of person.”

Mahi looks up briefly, her tone neutral.

“I told you, I’m here for my classes.”

Ishan smirks.

“That’s good. Someone’s got to keep the academic reputation alive around here.”

She raises an eyebrow, her lips twitching slightly despite herself.

“I’m sure you do enough to keep that reputation alive on your own.”

Ishan chuckles.

“You’ve got a sharp tongue, Mahi. I like that. Most people here just laugh at my jokes to stay on my good side.”

“I’m not here to win popularity contests. I’m here to learn.”

He studies her, surprised by her composure.

“You really don’t care about all this, do you?”

She glances at him briefly, then back at her notes.

“I care about learning. About respect. If that doesn’t interest you, then no—I don’t care.”

Ishan leans back, clearly intrigued.

“You’re different. I respect that.”

Mahi doesn’t respond. She returns her attention to the front of the room, but a flicker of curiosity passes through her mind.

The quad is alive with voices, laughter spilling into the open air as students lounge around between lectures. Mahi walks toward her next class when she hears mocking laughter echo from the far side of the lawn.

She turns to see Ishan with his usual circle of friends, seated beneath a tree. In front of them stands Varun, a quiet, introverted student. He looks down at the ground, his body tense, clearly the target of Ishan’s ridicule.

“What’s the matter, Varun? Cat got your tongue?”
Ishan sneers, as his friends burst into laughter.

Mahi pauses, watching for a moment—her jaw tightening. Then, with steady resolve, she walks over.

“Ishan, that’s enough.”

Her voice is calm, but sharp enough to cut through the laughter. She steps in front of Varun, shielding him from Ishan’s gaze.

Ishan raises an eyebrow in amusement.

“What’s this, Mahi? Playing the hero now?”

“Stop.”
Mahi says, unwavering.
“You don’t get to treat people like that.”

Ishan stands up slowly, his tone shifting, tinged with menace.

“And what, you think you can stop me? You know who I am.”

“I know exactly who you are, Ishan. And that’s why I’m telling you—this ends now. Bullying people isn’t a joke. It’s pathetic.”

The crowd quiets. Even Ishan’s friends glance at each other uncertainly. For a beat, no one says anything.

Then, Ishan’s jaw tightens and he scoffs.

“Whatever.”
He mutters, stepping back.
“You get this one, Mahi. But don’t expect me to forget.”

He storms off, his entourage trailing behind.

Mahi turns to Varun, who looks stunned, unsure whether to speak.

“You’re fine,”
she says gently.
“Don’t let him get to you.”

Varun swallows and nods.

“Thank you... I didn’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t stepped in.”

“People like him need to be reminded they’re not untouchable,”
Mahi says quietly.
“You deserve better. Don’t forget that.”

Varun gives her a small, grateful smile.

“I won’t. Thank you, really.”

The next day, Mahi spots Varun sitting alone on a bench, a book open in his lap. As she approaches, he looks up and smiles shyly.

“Hey, Mahi.”
He says softly.
“I just wanted to thank you again. Yesterday really meant a lot. I usually keep to myself, but you made me feel... like I mattered.”

Mahi smiles warmly.

“I’m glad you’re okay.”

Varun lowers his gaze for a second before looking up again, his voice firmer.

“I’ve always let people like Ishan walk over me. But I’ll try to stand up for myself more. Like you did.”

“You should,”
Mahi replies with sincerity.
“You’ve got more strength than you know.”

As Varun gathers his things and heads toward class, Mahi watches him with quiet satisfaction. She hadn’t set out to be anyone’s hero—but sometimes, doing the right thing made all the difference.

And today, it had.

Sneak peek- Chapter 14

"I missed you,"
he said softly, his voice laced with emotion.

"I missed you too,"
Mahi whispered, her fingers resting lightly on his chest.