As the relentless march of time pressed on, Tara stirred from her unconscious slumber, her eyelids fluttering open to greet the muted light filtering through the curtains. Groaning softly, she shifted slightly, the stiffness of her body a stark reminder of the ordeal she had endured.

Kusum, ever watchful, noticed Tara's movements and hurried to her side.

"Tara, my child, can you hear me?" she whispered softly, her voice filled with concern and relief.

Tara's eyes, still heavy with sleep and confusion, struggled to focus on her surroundings.

With a gentle touch, Kusum guided the glass of water to Tara's lips, allowing her to sip slowly, replenishing her parched throat.

"Take your time, dear. There's no rush," Kusum reassured, her hand resting soothingly on Tara's shoulder.

After a moment, Tara's breathing steadied, her senses gradually returning.

With a faint nod, she acknowledged Kusum's presence, her lips curving into a weak but grateful smile.

Kusum, sensing Tara's need for rest, adjusted the pillows behind her, ensuring her comfort.

Then, with a tender gaze, she glanced towards the still figure of Prithvi, lying motionless beside Tara.

"He'll be alright, Tara. You both will," Kusum whispered softly, her voice laced with hope and determination, as she continued to keep a vigilant watch over her children.

.

.

.

.

.

.

As evening descended, casting a warm glow across the room, Kusum approached Tara's bedside with a gentle touch. "Tara, dear, it's time to wake up," she said softly, her voice infused with care and concern. "You need to have some food and take your medicine."

Tara stirred from her slumber, blinking sleepily as she became aware of Kusum's presence.

With a faint nod, she struggled to sit up, her movements sluggish from her prolonged rest.

Kusum offered her a reassuring smile as she helped Tara into a sitting position, arranging the pillows behind her for added comfort.

"Here, dear, let me help you," Kusum said, offering Tara a glass of water to wash down her medicine. "Take it slowly."

Tara nodded gratefully, accepting the glass and medicine from Kusum's outstretched hand. With a sigh, she swallowed the medicine, feeling its effects gradually seep into her weary body. Kusum then brought a tray of food, placing it gently on Tara's lap.

"Try to eat a little, dear," Kusum encouraged, her eyes filled with maternal warmth. "It will help you regain your strength."

"Where is Manik? Did he have his food? Is he alright?" she inquired, her voice tinged with worry.

"Manik is with Suraj, and yes, he had his food," Kusum reassured Tara with a gentle smile.

"He's doing well, playing with his toys and keeping himself occupied."

Tara's features softened with relief at the news of Manik's well-being, but concern still lingered in her eyes.

"He was crying so much..." Kusum murmured, her voice trailing off.

Tara's heart sank at the thought of her son's tears. "I wish I could be there with him" she murmured, her maternal instincts kicking in.

Kusum nodded sympathetically, understanding Tara's longing to be with her child.

"I'll make sure to spend some time with him later," she promised, her voice soft and comforting. "But right now, you need to focus on resting and recovering."

As Tara nibbled on her food, Kusum remained by her side, offering words of comfort and encouragement. In the quiet of the evening, their bond grew stronger, a beacon of hope amidst the darkness that had enveloped their lives.

.

.

.

.

.

.

As Tara gently insisted, urging Kusum to go and rest, she could see the weariness etched on her mother-in-law's face. Kusum hesitated, torn between her desire to stay by Tara's side and her own need for rest.

"But if you need anything, no, I will not go. I will stay here," Kusum replied, her voice tinged with concern.

Tara shook her head softly.

"No, maaji, it's quite late now, and you haven't slept well for the past few days. Please, go and take rest."

Before Kusum could protest further, Tara gently interrupted her, pleading with her to leave for her own well-being and to spend some time with Manik.

"Please, maaji, for me, please. You also said that you would spend some time with Manik," Tara urged, her tone filled with genuine concern for Kusum's well-being.

Reluctantly, Kusum relented.

"Okay, but if you need anything, you will call me through the servant staying outside," she said, as she gently caressed Tara's head and planted a loving kiss on her forehead.

With that, Kusum dimmed the lantern, casting the room into a soft, ambient glow, and quietly exited, closing the door behind her.

As Kusum's footsteps faded away, the room fell into a serene hush, illuminated only by the soft glow of the lantern.

Tara's gaze lingered on Prithvi, his figure outlined by the faint light filtering through the curtains.

The bandages wrapped around his torso and left arm stood out starkly against the darkness, a visible reminder of the ordeal he had endured.

Sighing softly, Tara shifted slightly in her bed, adjusting the pillows behind her for added comfort.

She hesitated, her hand hovering in the air momentarily before she withdrew it, opting not to touch Prithvi.

Instead, she simply watched him, her expression unreadable as she observed his peaceful form.

In the quiet of the night, surrounded by the steady rhythm of Prithvi's breathing, Tara found herself lost in thought.

She pondered the events that had led them to this moment, the challenges they had faced, and the uncertain future that lay ahead.

With a sigh, Tara closed her eyes, allowing the tranquility of the moment to wash over her.

In that fleeting moment of peace, she found solace, a sense of calm amidst the chaos that had engulfed their lives.

.

.

.

.

.

In the gentle light of day, Kusum's voice echoed softly,

"Tara, leave it. I will do it, beta, your hand is still bandaged."

Her maternal concern was evident as she prepared the herbal paste needed for Prithvi's wounds.

Today, they were going to change Prithvi's bandage, a task that required careful attention and gentle hands.

Acknowledging Kusum's words, Tara glanced at her own bandaged hand before shaking her head determinedly.

Despite the discomfort, she was resolute in her decision to tend to Prithvi herself.

With careful movements, Tara slowly slid towards Prithvi's unconscious form, propping herself up with the support of a pillow. Though she was still in recovery, her sense of duty drove her forward.

As she reached Prithvi's bedside, Tara's fingers moved with practiced precision, crumpling the cloth and squeezing out the water to ensure it was moist enough for cleaning his wounds.

With each gentle stroke, she cleansed the wounds of unconscious Prithvi, her movements careful and deliberate.

Despite the weight of the task and the emotions swirling within her, Tara remained steadfast, focused solely on caring for Prithvi with the utmost tenderness and care.

After cleaning the wounds, Kusum joined Tara, and together they gently applied the herbal paste, their actions synchronized in a silent understanding of the importance of their task.

Once the wounds were treated and the bandages securely wrapped around Prithvi's torso, Kusum covered him with a blanket, ensuring his comfort before quietly leaving the room.

Despite the turmoil of emotions swirling within her, Tara's thoughts were consumed not by gratitude, but by a quiet resolve to see Prithvi through his recovery.

Her disappointment lingered like a shadow, casting doubt upon their relationship and the choices that had led them to this moment.

As she sat vigil by Prithvi's side, her gaze fixed upon his unconscious form, Tara wrestled with conflicting emotions—anger, hurt, and a lingering sense of betrayal.

Yet beneath it all, there remained a glimmer of hope, a flicker of belief that perhaps, in time, wounds could heal and forgiveness could be found.

For now, Tara focused on the present, on the task at hand—to be there for Prithvi in his time of need, regardless of the complexities of their relationship.

In the quiet of the room, amidst the stillness of the day, Tara found strength in her determination to offer him the care and compassion he so desperately needed.

.

.

.

.

.

.

"Be careful, beta, step slowly," Kusum instructed, guiding Tara down the stairs with a gentle hand on her arm.

Slowly, they approached Manvi's room, the soft light filtering in through the curtains casting a gentle glow on the scene inside. Tara's heart clenched at the sight that greeted her as she stood in the doorway.

Manik's small head rested on Mannu, they were lying on the bed, his soft black fur soaking up Manik's tears. The little boy's sobs echoed in the room, mingling with the soft whimpers of the faithful puppy.

Tara approached Manik and Mannu, her steps cautious and gentle. As she sat beside them on the bed, she reached out to stroke Manik's hair, her touch tender and comforting.

" Manik... " .

At the sound of his mother's voice, Manik looked up, his tear-stained face filled with longing and sadness.

"Maa..." he whispered softly, his voice trembling with emotion.

Tara enveloped the little boy in her arms, holding him close as he buried his face in the warmth of her embrace.

Manik's sobs echoed in the room,

Tara cradled Manik in her arms, holding him close as his tears soaked her shoulder.

With a gentle touch, she stroked his back, comforting him with soft whispers of reassurance.

"It's alright, my beta, Maa is here with you," Tara murmured soothingly, her voice filled with love and tenderness.

"Everything will be okay."

Manik clung to his mother, his tiny frame shaking with the weight of his emotions. He found solace in Tara's embrace, finding comfort in the warmth of her love.

As Tara held her son close, she felt a surge of protectiveness wash over her. Despite the challenges they faced, she was determined to be there for Manik, to shield him from pain and fear as best she could.

Together, they remained in their embrace, finding strength in each other's presence, as the love between mother and son enveloped them like a protective shield against the storm.

Tara gently rocked Manik back and forth. Kusum stood nearby, her eyes filled with empathy as she watched the tender moment between mother and son unfold.

Tara whispered soothing words to Manik, her voice a calming presence amidst his tears.

.

.

.

.

.

.

In the dimming light of the evening, the room exuded a tranquil aura, with Manik nestled peacefully in Tara's lap, his small form rising and falling with the rhythm of his gentle breaths.

Mannu, the faithful companion, lay nearby, his furry body a comforting presence in the quiet room.

Tara's gaze remained fixed on her son's serene face, her eyes filled with a mixture of love, concern, and an unspoken resolve. As Tara brushed a stray lock of hair from Manik's forehead.

As the soft footsteps of Kusum approached, carrying a plate of food, Tara glanced up briefly, acknowledging her presence with a grateful smile.

With a delicate touch, Kusum placed the plate on the nearby side table, careful not to disturb the sleeping child in Tara's arms.

She then leaned over, her hand moving tenderly to caress Manik's scalp, a gesture of affection and reassurance.

"I didn't even think that he would be so attached to you," Kusum remarked softly, her voice carrying a hint of surprise and warmth.

Her eyes lingered on the peaceful scene before her, a testament to the deep bond between mother and son, strengthened by love and unwavering devotion.

Manik stirred in Tara's arms, his small hand reaching out to grasp hers.

"Maa...," he murmured softly, his eyes searching hers for reassurance.

Tara tightened her grip on Manik's hand, her heart swelling with love for her son.

"I'm here, beta," she whispered, her voice filled with tenderness.

"Everything will be alright, I promise."Kusum watched the tender exchange between mother and son, her own eyes glistening with emotion.

In that moment, she saw the strength and resilience that bound them together, a bond forged in love and adversity.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

"We need to talk," Deepak's voice cut through the silence, his presence looming behind Kusum, her husband.

Kusum turned to face him, her expression guarded. "What do we need to talk about?" she asked, her tone steady despite the unease simmering beneath the surface.

"You can't talk to me like this," Deepak retorted, his voice laced with thinly veiled hostility.

"Why?" Kusum countered, her gaze unwavering as she met his eyes.

"I see you're gaining audacity day by day, something needs to be done about you," he threatened, his words dripping with menace.

Kusum's resolve hardened at his words, her years of silent suffering bubbling to the surface. "What would you do?" she shot back, her voice trembling with suppressed emotion. "Everything that has happened today, every tear shed, every wound inflicted—it's all because of you, your mother, and your useless male ego!"

A tense silence enveloped them, the weight of Kusum's words hanging heavily in the air. Deepak's expression wavered, a flicker of discomfort crossing his features as he struggled to maintain his composure under her accusation.

Kusum's eyes bore into Deepak's, a silent challenge daring him to acknowledge the truth of her words.

And then, with a final surge of conviction, Kusum delivered her cutting blow.

"If you had never FORCED Prithvi to marry SHAKSHI, then today my JAY would have been ALIVE, and Prithvi wouldn't have destroyed himself and Tara like this."

Her words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the irreversible consequences of past actions, leaving an unspoken truth echoing in the depths of the room.

.

.

.

.

.

.

𝙏𝙊 𝘽𝙀 𝘾𝙊𝙉𝙏𝙄𝙉𝙐𝙀𝘿...