Chapter 15 - Five Years Apart, One Night Together

Five years had passed. Five long years away from home and away from Sarthak—years defined by rigorous study, relentless work, and the pursuit of my dreams. Finally, I had achieved my goal. My name would soon be preceded by the title Dr. Samira Mishra; I owned my own home, possessed financial independence, and stood on the verge of becoming a professor. Today, I was returning home, carrying gifts for what I assumed was the child of Sarthak and Aarne. My heart swelled with anticipation and nostalgia. After landing, I waited at the airport, scanning the crowd. Suddenly, through the sea of people, I saw Manya in her pajamas, holding a banner with my name. Disregarding the onlookers, she ran straight to me and threw herself into my arms. "You're back! I missed you so much, Sammy! Didn't you miss me?" she cried. "I missed you… so much," I whispered, holding her tight. "Now, let's go home. I want to meet my nephew or niece. I bought them gifts." Manya blinked, looking confused. "What? Who has a baby? I didn't know anything about that. Why would you think that?" "Sarthak, of course. It's been so long—they got married, didn't they?" I replied excitedly. "Just tell me—is it a boy or a girl?" Manya shook her head. "Nothing. Let's just go home." At the doorstep of my house, my heart pounded. I rushed inside and froze. A small boy stood there with Aarne. His eyes, his smile—he was the spitting image of Sarthak at that age. My heart melted. I scooped him up, handed him a large remote-controlled car, and said softly, "This is for you, little one. You look just like your father." Aarne's eyes widened in shock. "No, that's not true… we aren't married. You must have misunderstood. He is my child with Abhinav. He isn't Sarthak's. I only came to welcome you; I don't live here." I froze, confusion sweeping through me. Why had he waited all these years? Why hadn't Sarthak married? My mind raced as I retreated to my room. A knock at the door broke my thoughts. I opened it to see Sarthak, impeccably dressed, his sleeves rolled up, blazer in hand, and his tie loosened. His gaze was intense, and I felt that familiar pull in my chest—the one I hadn't felt in years. "Hello, brother. How are you?" I asked softly. He stepped closer, his voice low and intense. "Who is your brother, Samira?" One step at a time, he closed the distance between us. "I waited so long to hear you call me brother. I have loved you for years, and you call me brother… today, no one will save you." Before I could respond, his hands were on my waist, pulling me close. He kissed me forcefully. I tried to push him away, but he grabbed my hands, then kissed my chin and neck. He kissed me as if he had been craving me for years. He took me to the washroom, where we continued to kiss. He turned on the tap, and though I pushed at him, I could not stop him. He turned me around, kissed my collarbone, and tore my T-shirt. He kissed my back, moving down to my bra strap, all while pinning my hands against the wall. He removed my bra, turned me around, and looked at me, saying, "They look juicy," before biting my nipple. He opened his belt, removed my jeans, and began to finger me. As he moved down, kissing my stomach and then my intimate area, I gasped, "Stop, Sarthak." "Not now. Tell me in the morning," he murmured, unbuttoning his shirt. He took my hand and pressed it against his abs, then guided it to his manhood, which was firm and large. He removed his pants and underwear, then mine as well. He carried me, adjusted himself, and entered me. As he began to move, I moaned, "Ah, ah, ah… stop." He replied, "You say stop, but your body says continue." We started slow, but then moved with an intensity that left my waist sore and my legs numb. We tried every position imaginable—at the window, on the bed, and on the study table—until I lost consciousness on the fourth time. When I woke in the morning, I tried to leave, but he pulled me toward him. He tried to kiss my forehead, but I turned away. "I'm sorry for keeping things hidden," he murmured. "The engagement with Aarne… it was only a contract arrangement. It was meant to uncover the truth about our parents' murder, to protect you. I planned to reveal everything at our engagement, but you left before I could. I lost you, and I regret it every day." I lifted my head to meet his eyes. "Whose child was at the door?" "That is Abhinav and Aarne's son," he explained gently. "He was born after you left. During our plan, Abhinav and Aarne were together briefly. She became pregnant, but Abhinav assumed the child was mine and didn't believe her. She raised him alone. She didn't marry anyone, not even Abhinav." I exhaled, relief mingling with disbelief. "Oh… then I forgive you." Sarthak's lips curved into a smile. "Really?" I said yes, letting him kiss me. We hugged, but then he gave a smirk I couldn't understand. He moved to entered in me again, and when I said, "Stop, Sarthak," he whispered, "No, the play has just started," and continued, despite my lingering soreness and numbness.