Siren of Hearts

38. More Cracks

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows on the quiet street as Siddharth made his way home, a paper bag in hand containing a surprise for Ishita. Anticipation lit up his features; he was eager to see her and share in the joy of her culinary experiment, something they had practiced together.

As he approached his house, a frown creased Siddharth's forehead. The sight of a sleek black BMW parked nearby caught his attention, a vehicle distinctly out of place in the modest neighborhood. His eyes shifted, and he spotted a man standing a few meters away—Arnav Raichand, Ishita's brother.

Curiosity mingled with confusion, Siddharth approached Arnav, who promptly removed his glasses upon noticing him. Arnav's expression held a mixture of surprise and weariness. Siddharth eyed him carefully, sensing something was amiss.

"What are you doing here outside, instead of going in?" Siddharth inquired, his concern evident. Arnav sighed, with a bit surprise by his welcoming words, a weariness in his gaze as he looked away momentarily.

"My father is inside," Arnav revealed, his words casting a shadow of uncertainty over Siddharth. The revelation sparked shock and concern in Siddharth, ready to rush inside to ensure Ishita's well-being. Arnav, however, held him back with a raised hand.

"Don't worry. He is not here to drag her with him," Arnav reassured, his tone carrying a weight of understanding. Siddharth, relieved by the clarification, took a moment to process the information. He turned his gaze back to Arnav, a silent acknowledgment passing between them.

"Siddharth," Arnav started, his tone a mixture of weariness and concern, "as far as I can read Ishita, I'm pretty confident that you're a good guy. But not as great as my parents' standard. That's a big reason for them not accepting you." Siddharth's reaction was palpable; he looked away, his expression reflecting the weight of the situation.

Arnav pressed on, revealing the depth of the family's disapproval. "They're not allowing her, especially my mom. She told her in anger that she's not her daughter anymore, and Ishita misunderstood her." Siddharth, perhaps worn down by the constant struggle, couldn't help but respond with a mockingly bitter chuckle.

"Are you really her brother?" Siddharth's question was laced with frustration and disbelief. The glare Arnav shot back at him was a mix of defensiveness and simmering tension. 

"What do you actually know about her?" Siddharth's voice cut through the air, laden with frustration and a hint of desperation. He pressed Arnav about the gravity of the situation, challenging the assumptions that had strained their familial bonds.

Arnav, now on the defensive, couldn't meet Siddharth's gaze. Siddharth's piercing questions continued, unraveling the complexities of Ishita's past. "She misunderstood what her mother said? What mother says to her daughter that she's dead if she crosses the door? You think her mom said it out of anger?" Siddharth's words painted a vivid picture of Ishita's pain, her nightly struggles, and the emotional turmoil she endured.

"Ishita cries every night when she remembers her mom. Her mother forced her to create a rift between us, dragging her own biological father, and my dead parents." The weight of the revelations hung heavily in the air, exposing the fractured dynamics within Ishita's family.

"You still think it was Ishita's mistake to leave you all?" Siddharth's tone was accusatory, challenging Arnav's understanding of the choices Ishita had made. "You're her brother, both of you have suffered isolation together, thanks to your mom. You can't defend her decisions, you can't stand by her in any problem, and here you are, acting like your mother's lawyer?" Siddharth's words were a pointed critique, a plea for Arnav to see beyond familial expectations.

It hit a nerve in Arnav, and he looked away, unable to maintain eye contact under the weight of Siddharth's accusations. "You both can't be happy breaking a family, Siddharth," Arnav responded, his words a mixture of frustration and a hint of remorse.

Siddharth nodded silently, acknowledging the pain that lay ahead. "We'll endure sadness then. Together." The commitment to stand by Ishita's side resonated in Siddharth's words as he turned away, walking towards his house.

Meanwhile, Ishita, still reeling from her father's unexpected visit, tried to maintain composure. She offered him a seat, a small act of kindness in the face of an impending storm. As she handed him a glass of water, she stood there, a silent witness to her father's critical scrutiny.

Mr. Raichand's gaze lingered on the glass and the water within, his unspoken judgments hanging heavily in the room. Taking a measured sip, he set the glass down, the silence between them amplifying the tension.

His words, when they came, cut through the stillness like a sharp blade. "At least he can afford a normal house with a roof." The remark struck at the heart of Siddharth's financial status, a barb aimed directly at the life Ishita had chosen. The weight of her father's disapproval pressed upon her, and Ishita felt her heart crack under the strain.

Mr. Raichand's gaze shifted from the surroundings to Ishita. "My daughter, Ishita, leave this teenage crush obsession and come home," he insisted. 

But Ishita, determined to protect the home she had built with Siddharth, asserted with a strength born from vulnerability, "This is my home." 

The room, once filled with tension, erupted in a clash of emotions as Mr. Raichand's disapproval collided with Ishita's unwavering resolve. His frustration evident, his eyes landed on the frames adorning the wall – portraits of Siddharth's mom, dad, and grandma. In a disdainful shake of the head, he voiced his concerns, "You can't be with this guy, dear. He has nothing. He has no one to rely on. I will never let you accept an orphan."

The words cut through the air, leaving Ishita breathless. The accusation stung, and she couldn't bear to let her father tarnish Siddharth's worth. With all the strength she could muster, she shouted in defiance, "Enough, Mr. Raichand! Technically, I'm an orphan too. My father died when I was just 12, and my mother died weeks ago. How can you disgrace my Sid like this?"

The weight of her words hung in the air as she continued, "Please remember when you intend to see me again. In a few days, I'm gonna marry the guy I loved my entire life. This house is mine, where you're stepping on. Soon I'll be Ishita Gupta, free from the burden of being an orphan." Her declaration was a poignant testament to her strength and determination.

Mr. Raichand, struck by the force of her words, felt the impact. Ishita, fighting back tears, commanded, "So leave. You're only a stranger here."

 With that, he stood up and walked out, only to freeze as he found Siddharth at the front-yard door. The realization dawned upon him – Siddharth had heard everything. Mr. Raichand, however, walked away, deliberately looking away from him, leaving the shattered remnants of a relationship strained beyond repair.

Ishita's heart felt like it had been crushed under the weight of her father's cruel words. Each syllable was a sharp blade slicing through the love and trust she had built with Siddharth. The mention of Siddharth's financial status and the disdainful reference to his deceased family members cut deep, leaving wounds that went beyond mere words. Anguish and disbelief mingled within her, creating a storm of emotions.