Page 14 of Substitute Bride
“You make many impossible things happen with your stubbornness, don’t you? Then make this possible too,” Sharda responds, her voice unwavering. “I don’t want to hear anything more about it. I need to get home and make all the preparations myself before nightfall. I will welcome her personally.”
Vikrant knows there is no point in arguing with her when she’s made up her mind. Her gentle tone only masks her iron will. He sighs deeply and nods, acknowledging his defeat with a simple, "As you wish."
He walks over to the doctor, sorting out the remaining formalities. After completing all the formalities, he turns back to find Sharda and Jhankar exactly where he left them. He approaches silently. Before he can say a word, Sharda speaks again, still not looking at him directly.
“Take her to her home now, and don’t return until everything at our house is perfectly ready to receive her.”
Both Vikrant and Jhankar glance at her in surprise.
But Sharda doesn’t meet their eyes. Her focus remains solely on Jhankar.
She looks at the girl intently, searching for even the faintest shift in emotion.
But Jhankar’s face remains an unflinching mask.
Disappointed yet undeterred, Sharda looks away.
She turns slightly toward Vikrant and gives him a flat, unreadable look.
“Take care of her.”
“Let’s go…”
Vikrant says from behind. Hearing his voice, Jhankar rises without uttering a word and walks out of the room. Sharda watches them silently as they leave. Once they are gone, a faint smile creeps across her lips, laced with melancholy.
“Vikrant… what you’ve done is unforgivable,” she murmurs to herself.
“But this girl… This girl has the strength to show you just how wrong you are... I can feel it... I can’t let this moment slip through my fingers.
She’ll shake your arrogance. She’ll force you to face yourself.
I know this is unfair to her… But this might be the only way to bring you back from the edge.
Her hatred might be the only mirror strong enough to make you see the monster you’ve become. ”
She pauses, her voice soft but resolute.
“As a mother, I fear for you. But as a woman, I will not let you tarnish another woman’s dignity so easily. She’ll make you bow. She’ll teach you the meaning of respect.”
~~~~
The convoy of black vehicles screeches to a halt outside Jhankar’s house. She looks out of the window, her heart tightening. The place is eerily quiet, unnaturally so. No laughter. No warm welcome. Just silence. Seeing her looking outside, Vikrant casually says.
“I spoke to your father. He might be waiting to welcome us.”
Jhankar turned toward him sharply, her eyes narrowed. The sarcasm in her voice is razor-sharp.
“I thought you only knew how to enter houses by kicking doors down and abducting people. I didn’t realize you understood the concept of a ‘welcome.’”
Without waiting for a response, she steps out of the car, leaving Vikrant to silently watch her retreating figure. He clenches his jaw and takes a deep breath, suppressing the rising irritation within him. Then, collecting himself, he follows her inside.
As he steps in, he quickly notices the changes in the house. His men had clearly repaired and replaced much of what was damaged during their earlier intrusion to fix what they had so violently destroyed. Raghunath sits silently on the sofa, holding his daughter tightly in his arms.
“Good evening…”
Vikrant greets stiffly. Raghunath looks at him, but his eyes are blank—no anger, no welcome, just silent endurance. Vikrant walks in further and sits on a chair across from him. Jhankar quickly moves away, holding her father’s hand, and walks toward the back room where her mother rests.
Chitrali is lying down, visibly weaker than before.
The ordeal has taken a severe toll on her.
Jhankar gently sits beside her, holding her hand with tender care.
Her parents say nothing; neither does she.
The silence between them speaks volumes of the pain they’ve endured, the humiliation, and the deep wounds that words cannot heal.
Time passes unnoticed.
Suddenly, a knock on the door breaks the stillness. All three turn their heads toward the sound. Standing there is Vikrant, composed and quiet. His voice is calm but firm.
“Say goodbye to your parents. It’s time for us to leave.”
He doesn’t wait for a reply. After delivering his message, he turns and walks away.
Jhankar sits still for a moment, staring at the empty doorway.
Raghunath gently places a trembling hand on her head.
He says nothing, there is nothing left to say.
He is a father rendered helpless, unable to protect his daughter, unable to free her.
Jhankar looks up at him with soft, tearless eyes, forces a small smile, and then kisses her mother gently on the forehead.
“You both don’t need to worry about me,” she whispers. “I’ll handle everything. I’ll fix this. Just trust me.”
Her voice is quiet but unwavering. It’s the beginning of her own battle, a war not just against Vikrant, but against fate, against silence, against power misuse. And she is determined not to lose.