The shrill ring of the bell echoed through the corridor, and students began streaming into the classroom. Tripti stepped inside, her palms slightly damp, and made her way to her desk. She lowered herself onto the chair, the wooden edge cool against her fingertips. Her heart thudded in her chest — today, the teacher would announce the results.
A familiar presence slid into the seat beside her. Her best friend Shika leaned closer, a playful glint in her eyes, and whispered, “Nervous, aren’t you? Don’t worry, you’ll pass. You always do.”
Tripti tried to laugh, but it came out as a faint smile — the kind you give when you want to believe someone, even if your stomach is twisting itself into knots.
The classroom door creaked open. Their teacher stepped in, her crisp saree pleats swaying as she crossed the room. The students chorused their greeting, voices blending into a single note before fading into silence. Tripti could hear her own breathing, loud in the stillness.
One by one, the teacher read out the names and scores, her voice steady and measured. Tripti’s pulse quickened with each passing second, until finally —
“Tripti Srivastava… ninety- six percent. Very good, dear.”
For a moment, the numbers didn’t quite register. Then warmth spread across her face, and the corners of her lips curved upward. She exhaled, the tension uncoiling from her chest.
“Thank you, ma’am,” she said softly before returning to her seat.
Her friend grinned. “Dekha, maine kaha tha na?”
Tripti smirked. “Chup re! Abhi boys ka result aana baaki hai. Dekhte hain kaun top karega.”
The teacher’s voice rang out again. “Krish Malhotra… ninety-seven percent. Very good, dear.”
Tripti’s head turned toward him instantly.
“Bas? Ek percent kam… lagta hai iss baar tum mujhse haar gayi ,” he teased, eyes glinting with mischief while going back to his seat.
Tripti chuckled, leaning back in her chair. “Ek percent hi toh hai… agli baar dekh lena, tum second aaoge.”
Krish raised an eyebrow. “Sapne mein.”
Their playful exchange drew a few smiles from classmates, and as the room filled with applause for Krish, both of them couldn’t help but share a quick, friendly glance — the kind that hinted the competition between them was far from over.
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Jeevan sat in the corner of a quiet café, fingers curled loosely around a coffee cup that had long gone cold. His eyes were fixed on nothing in particular, but inside, his mind was a restless sea.
" I’m divorced…......."
The bell above the café door jingled, but he didn’t move. It was only when a warm, familiar voice cut through his thoughts that he blinked back to the present.
“Jeevan? Tum theek ho?” Sukriti slid into the chair opposite him, her tone carrying both concern and curiosity. Kushal followed, dropping into the seat beside her, eyes narrowing in quiet observation.
Jeevan gave a slow nod, though his voice betrayed him. “Haan… bas…” He trailed off, unable to put the chaos in his head into words.
Kushal leaned forward. “Kya hua? Tu itna chup kyun hai?”
For a moment, Jeevan just stared at his cup, fingers tightening around it. “Shayad… kuch badal gaya hai,” he murmured, almost to himself.
Sukriti and Kushal exchanged a glance — hers was questioning, his unreadable.
“Kaisi hai woh? Aur tu usse mila kaise?” Sukriti finally asked, her voice gentle but probing.
Jeevan’s lips twitched into a faint, almost guilty smile. “Aaj hi mili…”
Kushal’s tone sharpened slightly. “Aur?”
There was a pause long enough to make them both lean closer. Jeevan’s gaze dropped to the table as he whispered, “Uski ek beti hai.”
“DAUGHTER?!” Sukriti and Kushal exclaimed together — but their reactions were different. Sukriti’s was pure surprise, eyes wide with curiosity, but Kushal’s carried a flicker of something else… something guarded.
Jeevan looked up briefly, catching the shadow in Kushal’s expression. It passed quickly, hidden under a half-smile — but not quickly enough for Jeevan to miss it.
“Chale, mera chhodo,” Jeevan said, leaning back in his chair with a teasing grin. “Tum log to lagta hai full-on chal raha hai.”
Kushal smirked while scribbling notes. “Kuch nahi yaar… wahi usual surgeries, patients, conferences—aur tumhare bekaar ke medical theories.”
Sukriti looked up from the menu. “Theories to tumhari bhi kam nahi hain. Kal hi suna, tumne ek patient ko ‘Netflix dekh lo, stress kam hoga’ bola?”
Kushal shrugged, deadpan. “Arre scientifically proven hai. Tum bhi try karo.”
Jeevan chuckled. “Haan, Sukriti, agla OT list dekh ke tumhe zaroor need hogi.”
Sukriti rolled her eyes. “Tum dono ka ek WhatsApp group banwa deti hoon—naam hoga ‘Bakwas Doctors Association.’”
Kushal grinned. “President main, Vice-President tum. Jeevan toh honorary member hoga.”
“Honorary?” Jeevan raised an eyebrow. “Main founder hoon!”
The three burst out laughing, their conversation bouncing between patient stories, inside jokes, and harmless jabs.
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Suddenly, Sukriti’s phone buzzed — a call from her neighbour.
She answered, and within seconds, her face turned pale. A thin sheen of sweat broke across her forehead.
Kushal and Jeevan exchanged a glance, both noticing the sudden shift.
“What happened, Sukku?” Jeevan asked gently.
She didn’t reply. Grabbing her bag, she rose abruptly and rushed out of the café. Sliding into her car, she drove off without another word.
Jeevan frowned. “Isse kya hua?”
Kushal’s jaw tightened. “Jo bhi hua hai… bura hai. Uski condition kuch theek nahi lag rahi. Let’s follow her.”
Jeevan nodded, and together they trailed her.
When Sukriti reached home, she bolted inside. Moments later, she froze in the middle of her living room, eyes fixed on something — or someone — out of sight.
By then, Kushal and Jeevan had arrived. They hurried in after her. Sukriti stumbled, nearly losing her balance, but Kushal caught her just in time.
“Sukku…” he whispered, his voice low and urgent.
She lifted her gaze to him, tears pooling in her eyes. Then, following her line of sight, Kushal’s expression shifted. The scene before him made his stomach drop — devastation staring back at him in its rawest form.
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Hey guys, here’s Chapter Two! We hope you enjoyed it .
But now the real question is — what could have shaken Sukriti so deeply that it left her devastated? Share your theories.
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