AdiYationship... is a collection of situations involving AdiYa that could have taken place in Bepannah. The show was epic, but there are certain scenes I wished had been different or a bit deeper. This is where the idea for this narrative came from...
OS/ What would happen if Aditya really had an accident on Zoya's engagement day?
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I stood in front of the mirror in my room, wrapped in this engagement dress that I had never dreamed of. The golden embroidery sparkled under the soft light, but I wasn't dazzled. I felt heavy, crushed, but not because of the jewelry my mother kept wanting to add.
« Amni, that's enough, I think I'm already wearing enough jewelry, » I murmured, my voice betraying a fatigue that had nothing to do with the weight of the ornaments. She looked at me, confused, but said nothing. « How could I explain to you, Amni, that it's not the jewelry that's suffocating me, but the decision I've made... to marry Arshad. »
In a moment of weakness, my lips let slip a question I already regretted. « Is Aditya downstairs? »
Noor, my little sister, who walked into the room at that moment, shot a perplexed and disapproving glance at my reflection in the mirror. « Really, Zoya? You're about to marry Arshad; why are you asking about Aditya? » She shook her head, annoyed. I didn't respond. What could I say? That he was the only person who mattered, the one whose absence made this moment even more unbearable?
As I descended the stairs to the hall, accompanied by my mother and Noor, I felt all eyes turn toward me. The conversations in the room hushed, and whispers gave way to a heavy silence. But I was only looking for one gaze, one presence. The hall was packed to capacity, but it felt empty to me. Aditya was not there.
Arshad welcomed me under the staircase with a radiant smile and an outstretched hand, full of hope and excitement. I forced myself to smile, but it felt like my face was cracking under the pressure. « You look really beautiful, Zoya, » he said to me. I nodded politely but detachedly, unable to utter a word.
My father, bursting with pride, approached to compliment me: « You are as beautiful as the moon, Beta. » In his eyes, I saw all the expectations he placed on my shoulders. For him, for my family, I had to silence my heart. For once, I had to stop being selfish. This was what I had been telling myself over and over for days. But as the ceremony began, the struggle inside me became unbearable.
Arshad invited me to sit down, his smile still planted on his face. I settled next to him, and everything around me seemed to fade away. The voices of the guests became a distant murmur. This wasn't the moment I was experiencing; it was another one. Memories of Aditya flooded me—his laughter, his teasing, the way he looked at me as if I were the only person in the world, the last words he had said to me. "Would I be able to get engaged to Arshad?" Aditya swore I wouldn't.
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My father, enthusiastic, was giving instructions to ensure everything was perfect. The excitement in his eyes contrasted violently with the emptiness in mine. Arshad took the ring and gently held it out to me. "Zoya, give me your hand," he said confidently. I looked at my bandaged finger, the same finger that had been injured and then mixed with Aditya's blood; my heart began to beat heavily. I knew I had no right to cry; it was my decision to marry him, so I took a deep breath, forcing myself to hold it together.
The silence of the hall was broken by the shrill and urgent ringing of my phone, which vibrated incessantly in Noor's hands. All eyes turned to her, expressing their irritation at this unexpected interruption. My father, annoyed, gestured for her to turn it off. "Continue," he said with quiet authority. A strange feeling of anxiety washed over me, like a cold shiver running down my spine. Arshad took my hand, and I felt him tremble—not from the contact of his skin on mine but from the anxiety that gripped me at the thought that the call was from Aditya.
But just as he tried again to slip the ring onto my finger, a second ring echoed—louder and more insistent. Tension mounted in the hall. I glanced at Akansha. "What? Adi Sir had an accident; when and how?" she shouted.
My heart stopped for a second; I jumped up in a panic. "Give me the phone," and I snatched it from her ear, my sweaty hands trembling on the device. "Arjun... Zoya... Aditya had an accident. It's very serious; he's not doing well... Arjun, which hospital are you in? I'm coming right away... Medicare Hospital." Arjun's voice was broken and panicked.
I didn't think anymore. My heart was beating so hard that I felt like it would explode. My eyes lifted toward Arshad and then toward my father, but I couldn't see them anymore. One image haunted my mind: Aditya. The gaze of the crowd on me carried the same question: "You're not planning on going there, are you?" I no longer had time to think. I started running out of the hall.
"Where are you going?" my father asked as he grabbed my hand. "You can't go now." "Please, Dad, I have to go," I pleaded. "Aditya needs me; I can't stay here." His gaze expressed silent worry, begging me not to act this way, not to disappoint him again, but I couldn't obey him; my heart screamed for me to leave. I detached his hand from my arm and freed myself from his grip to go find the person who mattered most to me at that moment.
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I arrived at the hospital out of breath, my heart pounding so hard that I could hardly think. My mascara was running down my cheeks, but I didn't have time to worry about that. I pushed through the swinging doors with an urgency that drew attention. The hallways dripped with that typical sterilized smell of hospitals, but everything seemed blurry. One question obsessed me: where was Aditya and how was he?
"Arjun!" I shouted as I spotted his tense face at the end of the hallway, his expression betraying a fear he was trying to contain. "Arjun, how is Aditya? Tell me he's okay!"
He hesitated for a moment, his throat tight, before whispering, "Zoya... it's serious. He's in critical condition. They're doing everything they can to save him."
My breath caught, and my legs threatened to give way. Before I could respond, a cold and cutting voice pierced through me.
"What are you doing here, Zoya?" Anjana approached me, her gaze full of reproach and hatred. "If my son is in this state today, it's because of you. You know that, don't you? You broke his heart."
"No, aunt, I... I just want to know how he's doing..." I replied, my voice trembling and my tears threatening to fall again.
"Enough!" she shouted. "How do you expect him to be? You are solely responsible for my son's accident. If Adi dies, Zoya Siddiqui, you will pay with your life! You have been a curse to him from the very beginning. Get out of here, now!"
