Shattered Illusions, Rising Wings

The evening in Rishikesh had taken on an unusual chill, the kind that sinks not only into the skin but into the bones, the soul. The Dubey family was invited once again to the Randhawa estate—this time for a post-deal celebration hosted in Akash Randhawa’s name. News of the billion-dollar signing with the Arabin Group had made headlines. Randhawa Enterprises was flying higher than ever, and Akash was now the official face of its future.

The mansion was illuminated like a palace, lanterns hanging from the high terraces, soft golden lights draped over garden hedges, and the scent of mogra and sandalwood lingering in the air. There were elite guests from Delhi, Dubai, and London, politicians, business tycoons, and journalists.

But amid this grandeur, Pihu Dubey walked silently beside her father, wearing a simple navy-blue salwar kameez that contrasted heavily with the silk gowns and designer suits around her. Her mother had insisted she wear the emerald green one they had bought for Diwali, but Pihu had refused. Tonight, she didn’t want to be noticed. Not again.

. But tonight, fate seemed to have drawn them into the same orbit again.

The party thrummed with soft jazz, laughter, and clinking glasses. Surya Randhawa was introducing Akash to investors while servers moved about with trays of wine and hors d’oeuvres.

Radhika and Aditya hadn’t come—both had last-minute college assignments. So Pihu stood alone for a moment by the large fountain in the courtyard, watching the way the water caught the light. It reminded her of how dreams shimmered before vanishing.

And then—

“Still pretending to belong?”

The voice cut through the air, as unmistakable as the first crack of a storm.

Pihu turned slowly. Akash stood a few feet from her, holding a crystal tumbler of whiskey, dressed in a charcoal-black tuxedo. He looked devastatingly handsome, and yet his words turned his beauty into something bitter.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” she said, keeping her voice neutral.

“You didn’t?” he said with mock surprise. “A free buffet, expensive music, and a room full of people to impress? Seems like your kind of night.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I didn’t come to impress anyone.”

He laughed. A short, sharp sound. “Come on, Pihu. Let’s not pretend you’re above it. I remember that look in your eyes when you used to follow me around like a lost puppy. That embarrassing confession... God, I still cringe thinking about it.”

Her hands clenched at her sides. “I was seventeen. It was a mistake. And I moved on.”

“Did you?” he said, stepping closer. "Because from what I see, you're still orbiting around this house, still trying to climb into a world that doesn't belong to you."

Something in her snapped.

“I never asked to be part of your world, Akash,” she said, her voice low but firm. “I admired you. Once. That’s gone now. You killed it."

He tilted his head, amused. “Then why are you still here?”

“My father works for your family. That’s why I’m here. Not for you. Never again for you.”

A silence fell. He stared at her for a moment, his smirk fading just slightly. But then he downed the last of his drink, waved a hand dismissively, and said:

“You’ll always be a servant’s daughter, Pihu. Don’t forget that. No matter how much you dress up, or study your way through college, you’ll never be one of us.”

He walked away.

And something cold and final broke inside her.

She didn’t cry. Not this time. Not like she did two years ago. Instead, she turned and walked away from the party, her heart pounding—not in sorrow, but in clarity. She had held onto a ghost for too long. Akash Randhawa, with all his money, his charm, his arrogance, was never love. He was a chapter she should have closed long ago.

She reached home late, her feet aching, her mother asleep on the sofa waiting for her.

She walked into her room and collapsed on the bed. The night was quiet now. The world outside had gone still. She stared at the ceiling, thinking about her life, her choices, and the chains she had unknowingly wrapped around her own feet.

Her phone buzzed.

A single email.

Subject: FINAL ACCEPTANCE — LEEDS RESEARCH FELLOWSHIP

Pihu stared at the screen, her breath caught in her throat.

She opened it.

Dear Ms. Dubey,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been selected for the Spring Cohort of the Leeds University International Research Fellowship in Cognitive Psychology. Your proposed study on childhood neglect has been highly appreciated. Please find your acceptance letter and visa documentation attached. We look forward to welcoming you.

She read it again.

And again.

Tears streamed silently down her face—not of sadness, but release. For the first time in years, she felt untethered. No longer trapped by memories, by impossible dreams, or by someone who never deserved her love.

She was going to Leeds.

She was going to be someone.

Not for revenge. Not to prove Akash wrong.

But for herself.

She stood by her window, looking at the sleeping town that had been her cocoon. Tomorrow would begin a new life. A new city. A new version of her.

She didn’t need Akash Randhawa to validate her anymore.

He had discarded a diamond, thinking it was glass.

And now she would shine—far away from his world.

Where he could never touch her again.