🌙 CHAPTER 1 - BETWEEN THE MOONS

2025, Chandigarh

Khushi lived in Dhanas, in a small house that always felt louder than her own thoughts.

That morning, at around 10:00 a.m., she was busy cleaning the house. Breakfast had already been prepared for the family, but she hadn't eaten yet. Like always, she had decided she would eat only after finishing all her work.

Her bua (aunt) was visiting that day. Her chachu and elder brother were getting ready to leave for work, while her father and bua sat at the dining table, eating breakfast. Khushi moved silently from one corner of the house to another, wiping, arranging, cleaning-doing everything without complaint.

Finally, when she finished, she sat down for a moment to rest. But even before she could breathe properly, her bua asked her to do another chore.

Khushi sighed softly, stood up again, and went back to work.

By the time she was finally free, it was 11:30 a.m.

Khushi was 22 years old, born on 14 August 2003, into a Sikh family. She was her father's second child. On the outside, her family seemed loving-but as a girl, she had grown up with rules instead of freedom, duties instead of dreams.

When Khushi was in second grade and her elder brother in fourth, her parents divorced. Her mother returned to her maternal home in Delhi, while Khushi and her brother were left behind with their father's family. As she grew older, Khushi slowly understood the difference between herself and her brother.

He could go out freely.

She couldn't.

He could play.

She had to behave.

She never protested. She simply accepted.

Her bua, especially, was strict-almost cruel. She wanted Khushi to become a "perfect girl," just like she believed she once had been. But Khushi was clumsy, emotional, and imperfect. For that, she was constantly scolded. Over the years, irritation turned into quiet hatred inside Khushi's heart.

Her family consisted of:

Father - Sonu

Elder brother - Harsh

Chachu (uncle) - Rajan

Bua (aunt) - Pooja

Her grandparents had already passed away. Her bua was married and had two sons, who were younger than Khushi.

Khushi loved music and dance. She had a creative mind and a naturally beautiful face. But after 2020, when COVID entered her life like an unwanted guest, she started gaining weight. Slowly, people stopped seeing her smile and started seeing her body.

She was an introvert with outsiders, but at home, she laughed, joked, and teased. She missed her mother deeply, though they stayed in touch. Khushi was dramatic, funny, and soft-hearted-but whenever she was hurt, she swallowed her pain, cried alone, and then returned with a normal face for the world.

That night was a full moon night.

After dinner, around 9:00 p.m., the family sat together when her bua suddenly started talking-about Khushi's weight.

She said things like: "If you get fatter, no one will marry you."

"You'll stay in this house all your life."

Every word cut deeper than the last.

Khushi sat silently, her heart breaking. She didn't understand why her bua hated her so much-why she always wanted to push her out of the house. Tears burned her eyes, but she didn't let them fall.

She complained silently to God.

Why this life? Why this pain?

People often said her bua had once been kind, polite, and caring when she was young. Khushi wondered what kind of life her bua had lived-because the woman she saw every day was cold, rude, and full of bitterness.

And then-

The earth began to shake.

An earthquake.

Everyone panicked. Her family shouted, "Khushi, come out!"

They rushed outside along with her. The shaking grew stronger. The entire society was on the streets, terrified.

Suddenly, Khushi froze.

The gas stove.

She had forgotten to turn it off.

Ignoring everyone's screams, she ran back inside the house. The walls trembled violently as she reached the kitchen and turned off the gas. At that moment, a large wooden box fell from the shelf.

It struck her head.

Everything went dark.

Her family rushed in, lifted her, and tried to wake her, but she didn't respond. An ambulance was called. As they placed her inside, Khushi slowly opened her eyes.

For a brief second, she saw two full moons colliding in the sky.

Then-

everything went blank.

🌙 Author's Note - Chapter 1

Hello dear readers,

Thank you so much for choosing to read Between the Moons 🤍

This story is very close to my heart. It is about time, destiny, love, and the bonds that remain even when timelines change. Some moments may feel slow, some emotional, and some magical-just like life itself.

Please read this story with patience and an open heart. Every chapter will slowly reveal the journey of Khushi and Raj, written not just with words, but with feelings.

If this chapter makes you feel even a little something-please vote, comment, or share your thoughts. Your support truly means the world to me and motivates me to continue this journey.

Thank you for being here.

Let's meet again... between the moons 🌙✨

- Aera Moon

#timetravel

#romance

#slowburn

#destiny

#pastandfuture

#indiaromance

#reincarnation

#emotional

#moon

A loud noise shattered my sleep.

I gasped and opened my eyes, my head throbbing painfully. Blurred shapes slowly turned into faces—people standing around me in a circle, whispering among themselves. Panic rushed through me like cold water. I tried to sit up, but dizziness hit me hard.

“What… what happened?” I whispered.

I looked at each face desperately, hoping to find someone familiar—my family, my brother, anyone. But every face was a stranger.

Fear clenched my chest.

“Where am I?” I asked, my voice shaking.

“You’re in Chandigarh,” a man replied gently.

“I know that,” I said quickly, confused and scared. “But why am I lying on the street? Where is my family?”

The people exchanged worried glances. I could see it in their eyes—they thought I had lost my memory.

“We found you lying here unconscious,” one of them said. “We tried to wake you up, but you didn’t respond. We don’t know who you are.”

I slowly stood up, my legs weak.

And then… everything felt wrong.

The buildings looked old—too old. The streets had a vintage feel. People were wearing clothes I had only seen in old photographs. There were no smartphones, no bright shop lights, no noise of modern traffic. Even the cars looked ancient.

My heart started pounding.

No… this can’t be real.

For one terrifying moment, a thought crossed my mind.

Am I… in the 90s?

I immediately shook my head.

“That’s impossible,” I whispered to myself. “Time travel isn’t real.”

Trying to calm myself, I began walking. My feet carried me forward without direction—until I stopped dead in my tracks.

The Sector 23 Gurudwara stood before me.

I had been here so many times in my life… yet it looked completely different. Old. Untouched. As if time had forgotten this place. No renovations. No modern structure.

My confusion turned into fear.

I walked further, toward the market—and my heart sank. The area that should have been crowded and developed was barely there. Small shops. Faded signboards. Old movie posters stuck to the walls.

My hands trembled.

“This isn’t possible,” I whispered.

I pinched my arm. Hard.

Nothing changed.

I slapped my cheek. The sting burned—but the world remained the same.

This wasn’t a dream.

With shaking hands, I approached a few people and asked the question I was afraid of.

“What… what’s today’s date?”

“20th July, 1995,” they replied casually.

My breath caught.

“No,” I said quickly. “The year. Tell me the year again.”

“1995.”

I asked again. And again.

Every answer was the same.

My knees felt weak.

Hungry. Lost. Alone. Terrified.

Then suddenly, a memory surfaced—my family once lived in Sector 23, long before moving to Dhanas. My grandfather had a government job back then.

Hope flickered faintly inside me.

With no money, no identity, and nowhere else to go, I started walking toward what I hoped was home.

By the time it was around 10 p.m., darkness swallowed the streets. Streetlights barely worked. Every shadow felt threatening.

I heard footsteps behind me.

My heart skipped.

I turned slightly—and froze.

A group of drunk men were following me.

I quickened my pace. They did too.

Panic took over.

They surrounded me before I could run. My breath came out in short gasps. One of them stepped closer, his hand reaching toward me—

And then—

A loud thud echoed.

The man stumbled back as a hard punch landed on his face.

Everything happened so fast.

A young man appeared out of nowhere, fighting them with fierce strength. His movements were sharp, fearless. Within moments, the men ran away, cursing in fear.

I stood there, frozen, trembling.

He stepped in front of me, his broad back shielding me from the darkness.

Then he turned around.

His eyes—strong yet gentle—met mine.

“Are you okay, miss?”

And in that moment…

I didn’t know why—but for the first time since waking up, I felt safe.

Rajveer Randhawa was a perfect, well-built man in his mid-twenties—around twenty-five. Calm, mature, responsible, and respectful, he was the kind of man any girl in the 90s would dream of. Yet, there was one thing different about him—he had never fallen in love. Raj believed that marriage should happen according to his family’s wishes, so he never allowed his heart to lean toward anyone.

He belonged to a simple nuclear family. His mother was a typical 90s housewife—gentle and caring, yet open-minded for her time. His father was a respected man in Chandigarh, known for his dignity and progressive thinking. Raj also had a younger sister, eighteen years old, studying in a school in Sector 23. Their family lived in the same sector—unaware that destiny was slowly pulling two timelines together.

People lovingly called Rajveer simply Raj.

Raj worked at a government office on a good post. Every day, he returned home by 7 p.m., but that night was different. Due to a new project, he had to stay back for overtime. After finishing his work, he rode home on his bike through the quiet streets.

That was when he saw it.

A group of drunk men surrounding a girl.

Something tightened in his chest. He stopped his bike instantly and ran toward them. Without thinking twice, Raj fought them—his fists strong, his eyes burning with anger. Within moments, the men fled, terrified by his rage. they all run for there life as he was just going to beat the shit out of them .but when they run always . he thought about the girl who is hide behind him.

As soon as they disappeared, the fire in his eyes softened.

He turned around.

The girl stood there, trembling. in fear more like she was frizz of fear .

Raj stepped in front of her, shielding her with his body. His voice, which had just roared with fury, now sounded calm and warm.

“Are you okay, miss?” he look.

Khushi looked at him—her eyes filled with fear, exhaustion, and pain. She tried to be brave, truly tried. But the moment he asked that simple question, something inside her broke.

All day she had been lost, hungry, scared, and alone in an unfamiliar time. And now, for the first time, someone had asked if she was okay.

Tears rolled down her cheeks.

She wanted to hug him. To cry into his chest. To let go of everything.

But she pushed those thoughts away.

“Yes… I’m okay,” she said softly. “They were just troubling me. Thank you, sir.”

Raj watched her silently.

He had never looked at a woman that way before. He wasn’t thinking anything inappropriate—only one thought echoed in his mind.

She has such beautiful eyes.

Before he could stop himself, he asked gently,

“Who are you, miss?”

....

“If this chapter touched you, please vote and share your thoughts 🤍🌙”

#timetravel

#romance

#slowburn

#destiny

#pastandfuture

#indiaromance

#reincarnation

#emotional

#moon