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Married to My Brother-in-Law, In Love with His Brother (Early Acess Ch 15)

Chapter 15: Rhythm of the Unsaid


If you haven’t read Chapter 1 yet, what are you waiting for? Head over to my Wattpad page and catch up—it’s live and waiting for you! 📖💫 Or click on tag to read all chapter that might have missed.

Now… let’s dive back in, shall we? 😉

Meenal closed the door behind her, the soft click louder than it should have been. The silence pressed in—cold, final, unforgiving. It was judgment, and it was unbearable. She stood with her back against it for a moment, eyes shut tight, willing the ache in her chest to settle. But it didn’t.

Aditya’s words still lingered, clinging to her like smoke.

“I let you go once. Worst thing I ever did.”

She shouldn’t have listened. Shouldn’t have let him see her hurt. She was past that now—wasn’t she?

The glass had been swept away, but her fingers still throbbed from the cut. She looked down. The blood had crusted, a dry line of red across her palm. No Band-Aid this time. No soft voice saying it would be okay.

She walked to the kitchen cabinet, each step heavy. She opened the drawer and pulled out a jar of turmeric and sprinkled a pinch onto her wound. The pain eased slightly, the vibrant yellow powder mixing with the dried blood. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to let go of the past and focus on healing herself in the present moment.

It was silence that was unbearable.

Outside, she could hear faint noises—the world moving on, unaware of the storm inside her. She drifted through the haveli like a shadow—solitude wrapped tight around her—not comfort, but a chokehold. She often wondered who she was outside of their battles—outside of being a mother, a wife, a wall to absorb everyone’s storms.

Thakur Shahab has yet again locked himself in the room, hiding himself from the world and his own emotions. She knew she couldn't force him to confront his pain, but she couldn't be the one his emotions were projected onto either.

She didn’t miss him. What she missed was something else. Something she hadn’t named yet.

She pulled the pallu tighter around her shoulders and looked toward the window. Arun sat alone on the swing in the garden, lost in his own thoughts. He was lost in his own world, just like she was.

That boy—he had no idea how much he saved her. Every day.

Meenal stood, her steps drawn to the window like a habit. And stared at her baby boy, who is only a baby… who was only a baby, yet already trying to make sense of the world.

She walked towards the garden, feeling a sense of gratitude for the innocent presence of her son, who unknowingly brought light into her life.

"Arun…," she called out softly, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she watched him swinging back and forth.

But he just ignored her, twining both arms around his chest with his cheeks puffed out in concentration. She chuckled softly, knowing that he was angry because of everything that happened in the bedroom earlier that day.

"Beta… Now you won't talk to your Maa…," she said playfully, knowing that her son was just being stubborn.

"I hate Baba… He's always angry, and I don't like it when he shouts at you," Arun replied, his voice filled with frustration.

"She smiled—thin, tired—but it didn’t reach her eyes. But after all these years, it hardly mattered; they were two people caught in a cycle of frustration and resentment, unable to break free.

"Maa…," Arun whispered, tears welling up in his eyes as he hugged his mother tightly, seeking comfort in her arms. She held him close, his tiny arms somehow holding up all her broken pieces.

"You know your Baba loves you, and if you hate him, who will be there for him when he needs you the most?" She whispered back, her voice filled with a mixture of sadness and resignation.

"He is Thakur; he has so many to take care of him," Arun replied, trying to reassure his mother that he would be okay. "But who takes care of you when you're sad?" he added softly, knowing that despite his father's status, his mother needed him just as much.

"You hold me together more than you'll ever know," she said, kissing his forehead. "And as long as we have each other, we will be alright." With tears in her eyes, she held him close, grateful for his unwavering love and support.

"But today you made Maa sad…," she whispered, her voice breaking.

"Why?" He looked up at her with concern, his eyes filled with regret.

"You broke Pari Maa’s photo… then you shouted at your Babba," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "I know you didn't mean to hurt anyone, but we must always remember to treat our loved ones with kindness and respect."

"But Baba shouted at you too," he protested, confusion evident in his eyes. "Sometimes grown-ups make mistakes too, but that doesn't mean we should respond with anger," she explained gently, wiping away his tears. "Let's apologize to each other and make things right."

"Maybe you could tell Baba you're sorry? Ask if he's okay too," she said, offering a small smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Remember, it's never too late to show love and forgiveness."

"No, Baba never says sorry to you." Arun crossed his arms, still upset. "Sometimes, love means stepping first—especially when the other person doesn't," she said, kneeling down to his level. "He is your Baba, and he loves you very much. Let's try to understand his perspective and show him kindness."

"If you say so…," Arun reluctantly agreed, his expression softening. "I'll go talk to him now," he said, finally willing to make amends.

As they were talking, two eyes were watching them from the window, listening to every word being said.

"She was always gentle. And now… even his own son looked at him like a stranger. Maybe he deserved that." Rajveer felt a pang of guilt as he realized the impact his actions had on his son. He watched them sway, wrapped in each other’s warmth. A rhythm he once led—now lost to silence, and to him.

*****

Author's Note ✍️

Sometimes the deepest pain is not in what's said—but in what's endured in silence.
This chapter was for Meenal, and for every woman who's ever had to hold her world together while quietly falling apart.

It’s about that love that hurts because it still hopes. About motherhood, not as a duty, but as a quiet form of salvation. And about the ache of being unseen in a house full of people.

🌿 If this chapter touched you, if you saw yourself in Meenal—or someone you love—please leave a comment below. I’d truly love to hear your thoughts.

💬 What part of this chapter stayed with you the most?

💖 Don’t forget to like and share if Meenal’s story moved something in you. Every bit of love helps this story reach someone who might need it today.

—With warmth,
Shaar Shree ✨

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