Author pov
"Why do you want to eat with me, sir?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Blaze leaned back in his chair, his dark eyes fixed on her. He said nothing for a moment, simply watching her, as though memorizing every detail.
"Because I want you," he said finally, his deep voice breaking the silence.
Anvi’s head shot up, her eyes wide with shock. "What?"
He didn’t elaborate, didn’t try to soften the weight of his words. His face was calm, but his eyes burned with an intensity that left her speechless.
"I… I’m sorry, sir, but I’m not like that," she said, stumbling over her words. She pushed her chair back, standing hurriedly. "I should go. Please excuse me."
She made her way to the door, her heart pounding, but before she could open it, she felt his hand around her wrist.
"Anvi," Blaze said, his voice firm but low.
Before she could react, he pulled her toward him. Her balance faltered, and the next thing she knew, she was in his lap, her knees awkwardly pressed against his.
"Let me go!" she exclaimed, avoiding his gaze.
But Blaze didn’t budge. His arms were strong, holding her in place, yet there was no malice in his touch. Just control.
"Look at me," he demanded.
She shook her head, her voice trembling. "Please, sir, this isn’t right. I don’t even know you."
"But I know you," he said, his tone softening just enough to make her pause. "Anvi, I’ve waited for you for two years. Two long years. And now that I’m here, I won’t let you go."
Her eyes darted to his face, searching for answers. "What are you talking about? You… you don’t even know me."
A faint smirk tugged at his lips. "I know more about you than you think. You’ve been in my mind since the day I first saw you. And now, here we are. You’re mine, Anvi. You always have been."
Her breath hitched at the intensity of his words. The danger in his tone was undeniable, but there was something else too—something that made her hesitate.
"I can’t… I’m not…" she stammered, trying to push herself off him, but his grip tightened.
"Stop fighting," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "You don’t have a choice. You’re with me now, Anvi. And I promise, I’ll take care of you. But you have to accept it."
Tears welled in her eyes, a mix of fear, confusion, and an emotion she couldn’t quite name. She didn’t know who this man was or why he had such a hold over her, but his words sent a shiver down her spine.
"Why me?" she managed to whisper.
Blaze leaned in closer, his breath warm against her ear. "Because you’re the only thing that’s ever mattered to me."
The weight of his words left her silent, her mind racing. She didn’t know what to do, but one thing was clear: Blaze wasn’t someone she could easily escape.
Anvi couldn’t stop the tears streaming down her face as she sat frozen in Blaze’s lap. His words echoed in her mind, sharp and unrelenting.
"From today, you’re living with me. Be ready by 8 p.m. I’ll be in front of your house to pick you up," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
She wanted to scream, to protest, but her voice failed her. She knew she couldn’t match his strength or his resolve. And worst of all, she didn’t understand his intentions. What did he want from her?
Her thoughts raced as she sobbed silently, trembling in his arms. She wasn’t just afraid of him—she was afraid of what this meant for her mother. Her mother, who needed her, who depended on her every single day.
Finally, summoning what little courage she had, Anvi pushed herself off his lap and bolted out of the room, not daring to look back.
In the washroom, Anvi locked the door and slid to the floor, her knees hugging her chest.
“Why, God?” she whispered, her voice breaking as sobs wracked her body. “Why are you doing this to me? What have I done to deserve this? First, struggling to keep Mum alive, and now… now this man is trying to take over my life. I don’t even know him. What does he want from me?”
Her tears fell faster as she buried her face in her hands. She stayed there for what felt like an eternity, letting the fear and confusion consume her. Eventually, she stood, splashing cold water on her face. She looked in the mirror, her swollen eyes staring back at her.
“You have to be strong, Anvi,” she whispered to herself. “For Mum.”
Anvi approached her manager with hesitant steps.
"Mr. Roy," she said softly, her voice still shaky.
He looked up from his paperwork. "Yes, Anvi? Is everything alright?"
"I… I need to take the rest of the day off. My mother isn’t well, and I need to go home," she said, avoiding his gaze.
He frowned but nodded. "Go. Take care of your mother. Let me know if you need more time off."
"Thank you," she murmured, grabbing her bag and rushing out.
As Anvi neared her home, a sense of dread crept over her. Something felt off. The air was heavy, and there was a small crowd gathered outside her house. Her heart sank as she quickened her pace.
Her worst fears were confirmed when she saw her mother lying on the ground, surrounded by neighbors.
“Mum!” she screamed, dropping to her knees beside her.
She cradled her mother in her arms, tears streaming down her face. "Mum, wake up! Please, wake up!"
Nivi, their kind-hearted neighbor, knelt beside her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.
"Anvi, listen to me," Nivi said gently, though her own voice trembled. "Your mother had a heart attack. We called for an ambulance, but… she’s gone, sweetheart."
"No!" Anvi cried, shaking her head in denial. "No, she can’t be gone. She’s all I have!"
Nivi pulled Anvi into her arms as she broke down completely. The weight of everything—Blaze’s words, her mother’s condition, her own helplessness—crushed her, leaving her feeling utterly alone.
Through her tears, Anvi made a silent vow to herself. She had to protect her mother’s memory and her own life, no matter what it took. Even if it meant facing Blaze and his overpowering presence, she wouldn’t let herself be consumed.
But deep down, she couldn’t ignore the gnawing fear that this was just the beginning.
The world seemed to blur around Anvi as neighbors bustled about, preparing for the antim kriya. Nivi held Anvi’s trembling frame, whispering soft reassurances that did little to stem the flood of tears cascading down her cheeks.
Her mother’s lifeless body lay on a simple wooden cot, draped in a white cloth. Flowers surrounded her—rainbows and roses—their vibrant colors a painful contrast to the stillness of her mother’s form.
Anvi knelt by her mother’s side, her hands clutching the edge of the cot. “Maa…” her voice broke, and fresh tears spilled over.
“You promised me,” she sobbed, her voice raw and trembling. “You promised you’d stay with me, that you’d see me graduate, that we’d be okay. How could you leave me like this? What am I supposed to do without you?”
Her fingers brushed against her mother’s cold hand, and the finality of it hit her like a wave.
“I tried so hard, Maa,” she continued, her words tumbling out in broken fragments. “I worked every day to make sure you had your medicines. I prayed for you every night. Why didn’t God listen? Why did He take you from me? You’re all I had!”
Nivi knelt beside her, gently placing a hand on Anvi’s shoulder. “Anvi, I know this is hard, but we need to perform the rituals. Your mother’s soul needs peace.”
Anvi nodded weakly, wiping her tears even though they kept coming. She stood shakily as the elders of her building began the traditional preparations.
At the cremation ground, her mother’s body was placed on the funeral pyre. The priest chanted mantras, and the air was heavy with the smell of incense and burning wood.
The priest turned to Anvi, his expression somber. “You must offer the first flames to your mother. It is your duty as her daughter.”
Anvi’s hands trembled as she took the earthen lamp, its small flame flickering in the wind. She knelt by the pyre, her tears mixing with the ashes.
“Forgive me, Maa,” she whispered. “If I wasn’t enough, if I couldn’t save you… I’m sorry.”
She lit the pyre, her sobs breaking through the chants of the priest and the murmurs of the gathering. As the flames grew higher, she felt a piece of her soul burn with them.
Once the fire had consumed the body, the ashes were collected in an urn. The priest explained the next steps to Anvi.
“Her ashes must be immersed in the Ganga or a sacred river. It will ensure her soul’s liberation,” he said.
Anvi nodded numbly, holding the urn close to her chest. The reality of her mother’s absence was sinking in, a hollow ache in her chest that refused to subside.
Back at home, the house was silent, save for the whispers of neighbors cleaning up and arranging the shuddhi pooja—the ritual purification ceremony to cleanse the space of the death’s impurity.
Anvi sat alone in her room, clutching her mother’s favorite shawl. “Maa, you always said you’d protect me. What do I do now? There’s no one left to fight for me, no one who understands me.”
Her tears soaked the shawl as exhaustion finally overtook her, and she drifted into a restless sleep, haunted by memories and the hollow echo of loss.
She pressed the shawl against her face, her muffled voice breaking into the emptiness of the room.
“Maa, this house feels so quiet without you. Even the walls seem emptier. Every corner reminds me of you—your laugh, your scolding, the way you hummed your favorite songs while cooking. I can still see you sitting on that chair by the window, smiling at me when I came home from work, asking if I’d eaten.”
Her voice cracked as she buried her face deeper into the shawl. “I keep waiting to hear your voice, to hear you call my name, to feel your hand on my head, telling me I’ll be okay. But you’re gone… and I don’t know how to breathe in this silence, Maa.”
The moonlight streaming through the window illuminated her tear-streaked face as she looked at the shawl in her hands. “This shawl… you always wrapped it around me when I was cold. You said it would keep me safe, just like your love. But now, even wrapped in it, I feel so alone. So lost.”
Her sobs came harder, her shoulders shaking as she clutched the shawl tighter. “I wasn’t ready for this, Maa. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye. I needed more time with you—time to tell you how much I love you, how much I admire you, how much you mean to me. I didn’t say it enough. I thought we had time. I thought…”
She curled into herself, the shawl her only anchor in the storm of grief. “I’m scared, Maa. I don’t know how to live without you. How do I keep going when you were the only reason I ever kept trying? Every step I take feels heavier, every breath feels harder. You were my everything.”
She pulled the shawl over her shoulders, closing her eyes as if it could somehow bring her mother back. “Please, Maa, if you’re watching, if you’re listening, help me. Tell me I’ll be okay. Tell me I’m strong enough to live in this world without you. I don’t think I can… but I’ll try, for you.”
The room fell silent except for her muffled cries, and for the
first time, Anvi realized the weight of the world her mother had carried for her. Now, that weight was hers, and the emptiness it left was unbearable.
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