Array
(
[text] =>
I had just stepped into my room after meeting Vihaan. Huh…I keep breaking every rule, and the reason is only him.
I turned on the lights as i felt thirsty, so I decided to go downstairs.
Prisha Di…I mean bhabhi….and Kunal bhai had gone to her friend’s wedding. They wouldn’t be back for at least three or four hours. It was 4:30 a.m., the house was silent, except for the distant ticking of the clock in the living room.
But as I stepped into the living room, my body froze.
Dad.
He was sitting on the couch, his posture stiff, his face expressionless. The dim light casts shadows on his face.
Why is he sitting here at this time?
A sharp pang of fear shot through my chest. Did he find out?
I had been careful, checking my surroundings every time I left the house. There was no way he could have known.
Yet, the way he was sitting there, unmoving, staring at the table in front of him…..something felt wrong.
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to speak.
“Dad, you’re awake this early? Is everything okay?”
I tried to sound normal, but my voice came out smaller than I intended.
Slowly, he lifted his gaze. His eyes looked heavy, tired. But what made my stomach twist was the emotion behind them-pain.
My heart started racing.
Without saying a word, he reached for some papers on the table and held them out to me.
My fingers trembled as I took them.
And the moment my eyes landed on the first page, my entire body went cold.
It felt like someone had knocked the air out of my lungs.
A crushing tightness spread through my chest.
I sucked in a shaky breath, trying to calm down.
Why are you reacting like this? You are okay?
He knows.
I had tried so hard to keep it hidden.
But now….Would he be angry? Would he scold me? Would he stop loving me?
He won’t like this, Ruhanika. He hates weak people.
I clenched my fists, trying to push away the thought.
But then…..I saw something that shook me to the core.
A single tear slipped down Dad’s cheek.
I had never, ever seen him cry before.
“You….you never told me,” his voice was barely above a whisper. It was shaking.
“You were suffering from anxiety attacks?” he asked, his voice thick with emotion.
He took a deep breath, as if to gather the courage to continue, “You were taking medications? Therapy?”
His voice cracked at the end.
The lump in my throat grew painful. My vision blurred as my own tears spilled over.
“You don’t need to worry,” I whispered, but my voice was weak.
“I’m fine. I hardly get anxiety attacks anymore…..maybe two or three times a year. I almost recovered two years ago, but sometimes they still happen.”
I forced a small smile, but my lips trembled. My hands started shaking, and my body felt unresponsive. I tried to control myself.
Dad just stared at me, his expression unreadable.
“Why didn’t you tell me, Ruhanika?” His voice trembled with something I had never heard before-hurt.
“Not even your mother?”
He stood up, taking a step closer. His arms lifted slightly, as if reaching for me, offering comfort.
But I stepped back.
“You both were busy,” I said, my voice quiet and empty.
That’s all I managed to say, my voice sharp, my throat burning from holding back everything I had never said before.
Dad’s face changed, his expression filled with something I couldn’t quite understand. Regret? Guilt?
He flinched, like my words had hurt him more than anything else.
I stood up, trying to control my voice, but my mind was already spiraling.
All the past suffering started playing in my mind, overlapping, like a broken record on repeat.
What if he still doesn’t understand? What if he thinks I’m just being dramatic?
Maybe I am overreacting. Maybe it’s not that bad. But no-no, I know it is. I know how it feels when my chest tightens, when my hands shake, when my own mind turns against me.
But what if I regret saying all this?
But what if they see me differently? What if they think I’m weak?
Maybe I am weak. Maybe I should have tried harder to be normal. To be enough. To not be a burden.
But…..I’m so tired of carrying this alone.
“Ruhii, you could have told me. I would have been there for you,” he finally said, his voice softer now, as if he was choosing his words carefully.
I said, my voice was hollow, empty of any emotion, “Would you?”
His brows furrowed.
My voice trembled as I tried to form the words, my throat tightening painfully, “You were never there for me…..In fact, you never have been.”
A lump formed in my throat, making it hard to breathe. My hands trembled, my chest heavy, as if a weight had settled inside me.
“Ruhii, please don’t say that,” he pleaded, his own voice cracking.
I shook my head, my vision blurring with unshed tears. My fingers curled into fists at my sides, “You were always too busy trying to teach me to be perfect. You never really cared about me. You just forced your opinions, your expectations, on me and Bhai.”
I hated how my voice trembled, how my hands had begun to shake. I wanted to be strong, to stay in control, but my body started betraying me.
“No, Ruhii, you are misunderstanding me. I just wanted you both to be good. I don’t understand why you think this way…..” He tried to explain.
My heart is pounding inside my chest. My breathing grew unevenly. The walls felt like they were closing in, the air too thick to inhale properly.
I let out a bitter laugh, though it came out shaky,”Why do I think this way?”
I said, my voice sounded flat, “Maybe you should ask yourself that question.”
The pressure inside me was on the verge of breaking. My vision swayed, my knees felt weak. I could hear my heartbeat pounding in my ears, drowning out everything else.
He took a step closer, his hand reaching out as if to steady me, “Ruhii, I always wanted the best for you. I care about both of my kids-“
“No,” I stepped back, shaking my head as more tears spilled.
My body trembled, my breaths coming out in short, shallow gasps, “You don’t care about us. You only care about our grades, our achievements-about making us perfect.”
“And if you really care, tell me, Dad, when was the last time you sat with me or Bhai for even five minutes? When was the last time you talked to us like a real father, not about our academics but an actual conversation?”
Silence.
His face shifted, the realization hitting him like a slap.
I swallowed hard, my throat burning, my whole body shaking as I whispered the question that had haunted me for years, “Did you ever love me?”
The second the words left my mouth, I regretted them. Not because they weren’t true, but because I wasn’t sure I could handle the answer.
His face froze, as if I had ripped something open inside him.
And maybe, deep down, I had never expected an answer.
“Ruhanika, please don’t say that. You are my daughter, my most beautiful blessing. Please, baccha, don’t say such things,” he pleaded, his voice raw with emotion.
He called me baccha after years. I should feel happy, shouldn’t I? I should feel warmth spreading through me, relief washing away all the years of pain.
But I don’t.
Why?
Because I fear this is temporary. I fear that once this moment passes, he will go back to being the same. I fear that I’ve lost the habit of him. That his affection, his concern-it’s all a fleeting illusion.
“I want to be happy to hear this, but I just…..can’t.” My voice wavered, my chest tightening.
“Do you know why? Because you never appreciated me. Not once. Not ever. Dad, do you have any idea how hard I tried to be perfect-just so you’d love me? Just so you wouldn’t see me as weak, or incapable, or not good enough?”
I didn’t even realize what I was saying anymore. The words poured out like water from a broken dam, spilling before I could stop them.
“I always tried to be a good daughter. I studied hard-not just for myself, but because I wanted you to be happy because of me. I wanted you to appreciate me. I wanted to hear you say that you were proud of me.”
I sucked in a shaky breath, my vision blurring with tears.
“But you never even talked to me properly. You never tried to know me. Do you know how many times I started silly conversations, hoping that maybe-just maybe-you’d talk to me like a normal father? Hoping we could laugh, even for a moment?”
I let out a bitter chuckle, my heart aching,.”But no. Every time, you just scolded me. ‘Ruhii, don’t talk nonsense. Use your brain to study. Focus on solving tougher questions.’ That’s all you ever said to me.”
I wiped my face with the back of my hand, my breaths uneven. My throat burned, but the words refused to stop.
“I….I always tried to be the best for you. I even gave up playing the guitar because you hated it,” My voice cracked as I said it.
“Trust me, Dad, I never even touched it for years. I only played it once at school, and you know what? Everyone appreciated me, even though I wasn’t that good….but you don’t even care.”
I tried to composed myself, as if trying to hold the broken pieces of me together.
“When other kids were performing in music or dance competitions, you told me to focus on debates, speeches, quizzes, and Olympiad exams. I did it all-every single thing you asked-because I wanted you to see me, I wanted your little attention.”
I looked up at him, expecting-hoping-for him to say something. Anything.
But he just stood there. Silent.
I let out a shaky laugh, wiping away the tears that wouldn’t stop falling, “Wait. I’ll show you something.”
I turned and ran up to my room, my legs feeling weak beneath me. My hands trembled as I pulled out an old diary from the back of my drawer. Clutching it tightly, I walked back to him, my heart pounding.
I held it out with shaky hands, “This diary is five years old. Do you remember? The day you brought it for me because I just glanced at this diary. That was it. But I was so happy-so stupidly happy-that I decided to make this diary my ‘happy pills.'”
I took a deep breath and said, “It has 365 pages, one for each day of the year. And you know what I did? I started writing down the dates every time you were happy with me. Every time we spent time together, every time you appreciated me, every time you made me cheesecake, every time we talked-even if it was just for a minute. I wrote everything down.”
I took a deep breath, my chest tightening painfully.
“And guess what? It’s been five years. 365 pages. And only 52 of them are filled” I held the diary out to him. My fingers trembled so much I almost dropped it.
My vision getting blurry. A crushing wave of anxiety pressed against my chest, making it harder to breathe. I felt dizzy, like everything around me was spinning. No, not now. Please, not now.
I clenched my fist, struggling to steady my breaths.
I blinked rapidly, trying to focus, but my body refused to listen as I felt the familiar suffocating grip of an anxiety attack.
“Ruhanika…”
He just said my name. That’s it. But somehow, it made my chest tighten.
I wanted to cry.
I wanted to hug him-like a daughter hugging her father after feeling lost for so long. Like a daughter seeking comfort, warmth, and the reassurance that she wasn’t alone.
But I couldn’t.
The distance between us wasn’t just physical. It was years of unspoken words, of unnoticed pain, of me trying to reach out and always falling short.
I swallowed hard, my voice trembling. “Do you know, Dad? I always felt a little jealous of Prisha di and Vihaan. Yuvraaj uncle knows everything about them-what they like, what their favorites are. They joke, they talk, they share things like a real family.”
I let out a bitter chuckle, wiping my tears roughly, “And me? I became this person who spends her entire day and night overthinking-trying to be better, trying to be perfect, just so that one day, her parents would finally feel proud of her.”
“Ruhii…”
I heard my name again, but this time, from a different voice. I turned around, my breath hitching as I saw her.
Mumma.
She stood at the top of the stairs, her eyes glistening with tears. She had heard everything.
Something inside me cracked.
“Why, Mumma?” My voice broke as I looked at her. “Why did you stop being my best friend? Why did you stop spending time with me? We used to go to the park together, remember? We used to talk. I always waited for the evening, hoping we’d go out-even if it was just for five minutes.”
I choked on my words, the years of bottled-up frustration pouring out, “I never wanted all your time, Mumma. I know you both are busy. I understand that. But don’t I deserve just ten minutes from your entire day?”
She covered her mouth, sobbing softly, but she didn’t say anything.
Dad stepped forward, his voice thick with worry, “Ruhii, please calm down, baccha. You’ll get an anxiety attack. Please, I can’t see you like this.”
He extended a glass of water toward me, but I didn’t move. I couldn’t.
Mumma rushed toward me, her hands shaking as she rubbed my back, “You should have told us, baccha. We were always here… we could have been here for you.”
I wanted to believe her.
But where were they when I needed them the most?
Where were they when I cried myself to sleep, wondering if I wasn’t enough?
Where were they when I tried so hard to be the perfect daughter, only to feel invisible?
Tears streamed down my face as I struggled to breathe. The pain, the exhaustion, the years of silent suffering-it was all crashing down at once.
“You both don’t even know when it all started. It wasn’t always this bad… but I was scared,” My voice trembled, my hands shaking as I spoke.
“And that’s where it all began-I got scared. I was terrified that if I didn’t do well, if I ever failed, you would send me away…..just like you did to Bhai.”
A sharp pain pierced my chest as I said those words out loud. I had held them in for so long.
“Bhai failed just once. Just once. It’s not like he wasn’t a good student-he was. But instead of supporting him, instead of helping him, you scolded him and sent him to boarding school.”
I swallowed hard, my throat tightening.
“I got scared. I thought….what if the same thing happens to me? What if I fail? What if you send me away too? I didn’t want to leave you, Mumma. I love you both so much, trust me, but I was terrified of being sent away to live with strangers.”
My voice cracked, my breath hitching as memories flooded my mind.
“That fear never left me. I started feeling alone. And then Bhai got into medical college, and you still didn’t talk to him properly. Why? Just because his college wasn’t some top college? He worked so hard. He got great scores in school. But you never saw that, did you? You never told him you were proud. You never told him he did well.”
Tears blurred my vision, but I kept going.
“I remember when he was packing his bags, getting ready to leave for college…..and I had an exam that same week. I didn’t do well. And it felt like the world was crashing down on me. I thought-what if I fail again? What if I also get sent away? What if you both decide you don’t want me anymore?”
My heart pounded against my chest, the weight of those old fears suffocating me.
“And then…I got my results.”
I let out a hollow laugh, my body trembling.
“They were bad. Really bad. Below average. And that’s when it happened…my first panic attack.”
I wrapped my arms around myself, as if trying to hold myself together.
“I was only in 6th grade. Just a kid. And I was so scared….I wasn’t thinking straight. My head was pounding. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I just wanted everything to stop, even for a little while. So to ease my headache….I took sleeping pills… thinking my mind will stop having thoughts.”
A strangled sob escaped my throat.
“I didn’t mean to hurt myself. I just wanted my head to stop hurting. But I…I overdosed.”
I looked up, my father’s face was pale, and my mother’s lips parted in shock.
“Kunal Bhai found me. He rushed me to the hospital. And that’s how it all started.”
Silence.
A heavy, suffocating silence.
I wiped my tears away roughly, laughing bitterly.
“I request him not to tell you. I was terrified you’d see me as weak. But it doesn’t mean I’m weak, right? It means I’ve been carrying too much for too long.”
I sucked in a shaky breath, my chest aching from the weight of my words.
“Even my best friend left me. She said I was boring. That she didn’t like me anymore.”
I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms.
“I started believing her. I started believing that maybe I wasn’t good.”
I let out a slow breath, trying to calm myself.
“But things got better. Therapy helped. Medication helped. It took 2-3 years, but I was healing.”
I forced a small smile, though my lips trembled.
“And then we shifted to Delhi. And trust me, in the past two and a half years, I barely had any severe anxiety attacks. Maybe two or three times. But it wasn’t as bad as before.”
I swallowed hard, blinking back tears.
“The doctor told me it was progress. That I was getting better and i stopped taking therapy.”
I looked at my parents, my voice softening.
“And for the first time, I felt like I belonged. I made friends. Real friends. Friends who made me feel like I was enough just the way I am.”
And I met him.
He made me feel like I deserved happiness.
I let the words hang in the air, watching as my mumma and dad struggled to process everything I had just said. As i saw my dad crying.
For years, I had carried this weight alone.
I had never seen him cry before.
Not like this. Not broken. Not guilty.
He looked at me, desperation bleeding into his expression. He wanted me to forgive him.
But the thing about wounds like these?
They don’t heal overnight.
“Do you even know what it feels like to always doubt yourself? To overthink every little thing-every word, every action-because your mind just won’t let you rest?”
He swallowed hard. My mother covered her mouth, her eyes filled with unshed tears.
“I stay up at night, replaying conversations, wondering if I sounded stupid. I go over every mistake, even the ones no one else noticed. Because to me, they matter. Every single one of them matters.”
The way they looked at me… like they were only now realizing how deep the wound really was.
“I hate how my mind works,” I whispered, my chest tightening.
“I hate how I shrink myself to fit in, how I hold back my words because I’m scared of being judged. I hate how I overthink even the smallest things-like whether I should have smiled more, or if I should have just stayed quiet because I was afraid.”
Tears blurred my vision, but I forced myself to look at them.
“And yet, no one sees it. No one sees how exhausting it is to live like this. To feel like you’re constantly trying, constantly proving, and still feeling like a disappointment.”
My fingers curled into fists at my sides, but I didn’t know if it was out of frustration, exhaustion, or the effort it took to keep standing when my whole body felt like collapsing.
My father looked at me as if he wanted to say something-maybe to comfort me or maybe to deny it.
But nothing happened.
My head was already spinning, my thoughts overlapping and suffocating me.
“You make me feel like I am not good enough….I can never be enough….like I am the worst,” I just slightly muttered and without another word, I turned and walked away, my hands trembling as I reached for the doorknob.
The moment I stepped into my room, I locked the door, pressing my back against it as my legs gave out beneath me.
Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.
But I couldn’t.
I wrapped my arms around myself, squeezing my eyes shut as if that would stop the thoughts from attacking me.
“Why am I like this?”
The room was silent.
But my mind wasn’t.
I pressed my palms against my temples as if I could physically stop the thoughts from crashing into me all at once. My chest felt unbearably tight, like someone was squeezing all the air out of me. I curled my knees to my chest, staring at the floor, my mind a battlefield of self-doubt, guilt, and exhaustion.
“You’re overreacting, Ruhanika.”
“Why can’t you just be normal? It was just a joke. Do you always need attention?”
“You always ruin everything.”
“Why can’t you be enough?”
The words played over and over, layering on top of each other until they became deafening. My heart pounded against my ribs, my breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. I tried to control it, tried to inhale deeply like bhai told me, but the more I focused on my breathing, the worse it became.
My hands were shaking. My fingers were freezing. I clenched them into fists, digging my nails into my palms, trying to ground myself, but my mind was spinning too fast.
I shouldn’t have said so much.
I shouldn’t have let my emotions spill out like that. I should have control it.
What if I made things worse?
What if they hate me?
What if he also started to hate me?
I bit my lip hard, trying to shut the thoughts up, but I couldn’t.
Years of bottling up my emotions, of feeling like I was never good enough. Years of pushing myself to meet impossible expectations, only to feel like a failure anyway. Years of being told I was “too sensitive,” “too much,” “too difficult to deal with.”
And now…..this.
This exhaustion.
This suffocating weight of knowing that no matter how hard I tried, it would never be enough.
I pulled at the sleeves of my shirt, gripping the fabric tightly, my mind racing with thoughts I didn’t want to acknowledge.
I was tired.
Tired of pretending I was fine.
Tired of overthinking every word, every action, every silence.
Tired of feeling like I had to be perfect just to be loved.
Maybe I was the problem.
Maybe I was too exhausting, too difficult, too much to handle.
Maybe that was why everyone eventually left.
Maybe…..I was again lost into my never ending thoughts until my phone buzzed.
The screen lit up, and my vision blurred as I saw his name-Vihaan.
I couldn’t read the message. My hands felt numb as I locked my phone and switched it off, my fingers moving on their own. The notification alone made my chest squeeze painfully, a fresh wave of panic crashing over me.
I couldn’t deal with this right now.
I couldn’t deal with anything.
A knock on my door.
“Ruhanika, please open the door?”
I froze. My parents.
“Ruhii beta, please! Don’t do this, just open the door-please!” My father’s voice cracked. He sounded…..scared.
I squeezed my eyes shut.
I wanted to tell them I was okay. But I wasn’t.
My mind was spinning too fast, the pressure in my head unbearable. My chest ached, my breaths were coming in short and my whole body felt like it was shaking from the inside out.
I needed it to stop.
My hands fumbled as I reached for the cupboard. My vision swayed as I grabbed the small bottle.
My medications.
I hadn’t been taking them.
For the last two years, I thought I was fine. I thought I was better.
I had Vihaan, I had him, I had a small bubble where I didn’t need to rely on people where i could rely on my safe place.
But maybe I was wrong.
With trembling hands, I opened and took one pill.
I curled into the corner of the room, pressing my forehead against my knees as I tried to make it all go away.
But nothing happened.
The pressure in my head didn’t stop. The tightness in my chest didn’t fade. The chaos didn’t quiet.
So I took more.
Two. Three. Four.
I didn’t know how many. I didn’t care.
I didn’t realise what I have done.
Tears streamed down my face, but I barely noticed. The voices outside-my father’s, my mother’s-grew fainter, like they were worlds away.
I clutched the star pendant around my neck, my fingers trembling.
My body grew unbearably warm, my skin burning as if feverish. The floor beneath me felt unsteady, my vision blackening around the edges.
I tried to blink, to focus.
But then-
Everything went silent.
And the darkness swallowed me whole.
β’β’β’β’β’
A steady beeping filled my ears as my eyelids fluttered open. My vision was blurry at first, and it took me a moment to register the unfamiliar surroundings. The scent of medicines lingered in the air. A sharp pain throbbed in my head.
I blinked, my gaze shifting to the IV line attached to my wrist. Wires connected me to a monitor, its rhythmic beeps matching my heartbeat. An oxygen mask rested lightly over my face.
A voice broke through my hazy thoughts.
“Are you awake, Miss Ruhanika?”
I turned slightly, spotting a nurse adjusting the IV drip. She was writing something down on a clipboard.
“Can you hear me?” she asked again, stepping closer.
I managed a small nod, my throat dry and burning.
“Good. Your body is stabilizing now” she explained, checking my pulse.
The door creaked open, and my heart clenched as I saw Bhai.
My brother. He stood there still in his black suit which he wore when he left, the exhaustion evident on his face. His eyes were red and filled with unshed tears.
The nurse turned to him, “Doctor, her vitals are stable. BP is improving, oxygen levels are normal.”
Kunal bhai exhaled, his grip on the clipboard tightening, “Any signs of respiratory distress while I was out?”
“No, doctor. We administered activated charcoal to absorb the excess medication and gave IV fluids to flush it out. Her liver function tests are within a safe range,” the nurse replied.
I swallowed hard, my throat aching.
Kunal bhai finally stepped forward, his professional demeanor masking his emotions, “Do you feel dizzy? Any nausea?”
I shook my head slightly.
“That’s good.” He exhaled, nodding at the nurse. “Keep an eye on her hydration levels. Increase fluids if needed. We’ll monitor for the next few hours, and if her vitals remain stable, she can be discharged by tomorrow.”
Silence settled between us as the nurse left.
Bhai stood there, his hands curled into fists. I knew that look. He was angry-but not at me. At himself.
My throat tightened as I whispered, “Bhai…”
He inhaled sharply, his jaw clenching. His eyes held exhaustion, worry, guilt…..and something else.
“I should’ve been there before it came to this,” he muttered under his breath.
Tears welled in my eyes as regret gnawed at me, “I’m sorry…”
He didn’t reply. Instead, he quietly grabbed the glass of water, adjusting my bed so I could sit up.
“Drink.”
I took a small sip, but his gaze never wavered. It held everything-care, fear, anger, guilt.
And I hated his silence more than his anger.
I watched as Kunal bhai took the glass from my shaky hands. I had only taken one sip before passing it to him. My fingers felt cold, and my body was weak.
He didn’t speak.
He didn’t even look at me.
His silence was worse than his anger.
“Kunal bhai…..please say something,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. His silence was unbearable.
His jaw tightened, and when he finally spoke, his voice was rough and strained, “What should I even say, Ruhanika?”
“Do you even understand what you have done today?” His voice was thick with emotion, as if he was trying hard not to cry.
Guilt tightened at my heart.
“I’m sorry,” I choked out. My throat felt dry, my voice weak.
Kunal bhai took a deep breath, trying to control himself, but his hands were still shaking.
“Just one minute, Ruhii….If you had been just one minute late in getting treatment, you could have gone into a coma because of the overdose or worse…..” His voice cracked as he yelled, but then he stopped abruptly when he saw me flinch.
He took another deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. His anger faded, replaced by something even worse-fear.
“You don’t know how I felt when I got that call,” he whispered. His body looked tense, but his eyes were filled with pain.
I lowered my head.
“Don’t yell at me…please…i already feel guilty,” I mumbled, my eyes welling up with tears.
His expression softened, and his shoulders dropped, “Please, baccha….calm down.”
He said, his voice, gentle now, “I swear, I don’t want to yell at you….I was just scared.”
That was all it took. I couldn’t stop myself-I ignored the wires and threw myself into his arms.
His arms wrapped around me instantly, holding me tightly. He stroked my back in slow, like he used to when I was little. The moment his warmth surrounded me, all the fear, guilt, and sadness crashed over me like a giant wave.
“I’m sorry,” I sobbed against his chest, my voice breaking into uneven words.
“It’s okay, baccha,” he murmured. “Just don’t cry anymore. You’re safe now…..that’s all matters.”
I clung to him, feeling like a little girl again, like the sister who always ran to her brother for comfort.
After a while, I pulled back, rubbing at my wet cheeks. Kunal bhai cupped my face and wiped away my remaining tears with his thumb.
“You should rest,” he said, tucking the blanket around me. “I’ll stay here, don’t worry.”
I reached for his hand, “Where is Mumma and….Dad?”
His jaw tightened slightly.
“I told them to wait outside,” he said in a firm voice, as if he was still upset. But then he sighed and gently ran his hand over my head.
Guilt twisted inside me again.
“I said so many things to them…I shouldn’t have,” I whispered.
He gave my hand a reassuring squeeze, “It’s okay. Sometimes we say things. Sometimes, we just need to let our hearts speak without worrying for any other-for once, we need to be a little selfish.”
He hesitated before asking, “can I ask you something?”
I nodded.
He gulped as he said, “I thought your anxiety was getting better. You weren’t having many attacks anymore. But today…..it just got so bad. What happened bachha?”
“I don’t know…..it was just years of emotions suddenly bursting out,” I replied blankly.
He looked at me as he wiped away the tears that had escaped. Then, without a word, he pulled me into a hug, giving silent comfort.
“I will always be with you, hnn?” He said caressing my hairs and i nodded.
But a sudden thought ran into my mind.
“Where is Prisha bhabhi? I’m sorry….it’s only your second day of marriage, and i just ruined.”
A faint smile appeared on bhai’s face, “She was here for hours. I just convinced her to go home and rest. She didn’t want to leave, but I made her.”
Before I could reply, another voice interrupted us.
“How’s everything going?”
I turned to see Rishabh bhaiya entering the room. A tiny smile formed on my face. It had been so long since I last saw him.
He picked up my reports and flipped through them. “Her reports are normal. She just needs to recover with proper rest and treatment,” he muttered.
Kunal bhai immediately stood up, worried still visible on his face, “We should do a few more tests, just to be safe. And if everything turns out to be fine, then she can be discharged by tomorrow.”
Rishabh bhaiya smiled at me, “So, how are you feeling, kid?”
“Fine,” I answered, though my voice was still weak.
“Do you even remember me?” he teased as he sat beside me.
I nodded, my heart warming a little.
“Good. Now don’t stress yourself, alright? You’re going to be fine,” he reassured me.
“Thanks for handling her case,” Kunal muttered.
Rishabh bhaiya shrugged. “I was about to leave when you called me about Ruhii. But by the time I got here, Dr. Akshat was already treating her. He didn’t let me in at first, in fact he didn’t let any other doctor inside the room, so I only just found out everything now.”
Dad treated me?
Kunal bhai went stiff for a moment.
Then why…..why didn’t he come to see me?
Rishabh bhaiya patted my arm and stood up, “Take care, Ruhi.”
Then he left.
The room fell silent again. Kunal bhai sighed heavily, rubbing his forehead.
Just then, a soft knock came from the door.
The knock on the door was soft but deliberate.
Mumma stepped inside as she walked to my bedside and sat down, her posture straight. There was a time when I would have immediately leaned into her, sought comfort in her touch. But things had changed over the years.
“How are you feeling?” Her voice was calm, careful.
“Good,” I answered automatically, though we both knew it wasn’t entirely true.
She nodded slightly, as if accepting my answer, but her eyes lingered on me for a second too long. A habit, maybe-one she had as a doctor, always observing. Or maybe, just maybe, she was seeing me as her daughter right now, not just a patient.
For a moment, neither of us spoke. The silence was not unfamiliar-it had settled between us over the years. We talked, yes, but never about things that truly mattered. She had always been busy, and I had learned to keep things to myself..
She was trying to hide it, I could see the worry in the way she fidgeted with the hem of her clothes, something she never did.
“Ruhii,” she said finally, her voice softer now, hesitant. “You…you really scared us today.”
I looked away.
I hated that I had put them through this-her, Kunal bhai, even dad, who hadn’t come inside yet.
Her fingers reached out, brushing my hair back. The touch was light, almost hesitant, as if she wasn’t sure if I would pull away. I didn’t.
It had been years since she had stroked my hair like this.
“I never wanted this distance between us,” she murmured. “I don’t know when it happened, but…I wish I had been there more.”
I closed my eyes briefly, “It’s not your fault, Mumma. You were just busy.”
“But I should have made more time for you,” she admitted.
“I should have known about you…..your feelings.”
I swallowed hard, “I didn’t want you to know them.”
For the first time in years, I saw my mother vulnerable. Not the doctor, not the strong, composed woman I had grown up with-but just my mother.
And maybe….maybe I wanted to try, too.
She exhaled shakily and pressed a kiss to my forehead-something she hadn’t done in a long time.
It wasn’t perfect. We still had a long way to go. But for the first time in years, I felt like maybe we could meet halfway.
Her tears started falling, and suddenly, I couldn’t hold back anymore.
I reached for her, hugging her tightly like I used to when I was little.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered into my hair, her voice shaking.
And just like that, the walls I had built around my heart crumbled.
No matter what, she is still my mother. And I still loved her.
She stroked my hair gently, her fingers moving like they used to when I was sick.
“I’m sorry….for not being with you….for not understanding you….for anything I said that hurt you,” she murmured.
I didn’t answer. I just held onto her, closing my eyes, pretending that everything was normal.
But deep inside, I knew.
Nothing is normal.
β’β’β’β’β’
After a few moments of silence, I lay down, exhausted. Just as I closed my eyes, the door creaked open. My heart skipped a beat, hoping it was Dad, but he didn’t come.
Instead, I saw Prisha bhabhi entering the room.
She smiled warmly, and trust me, that was exactly what I needed. Without hesitation, she walked over and sat beside me, her presence making everything feel a little more normal.
She asked about me gently, brushing her fingers through my hair.
I replied that I am good and she smiled before leaning in to kiss my forehead.
“Ruhii, I know you wouldn’t like the bland hospital food, so I asked Kunal if I could make something healthy for you. And guess what? He agreed. So, here’s your lunch,” she said, placing a small box on the tray.
I glanced at the food, already relieved. The meals they serve here are beyond tasteless, and I knew bhai would have suggested khichdi. At least homemade food has some flavor.
She adjusted the food tray, helping me sit up comfortably.
“Trust me, I didn’t add karela juice in it,” she joked, trying to lighten the mood.
I chuckled softly.
She fed me a bite, and she watched me closely, raising her eyebrows, “It’s good.”
She sighed dramatically, “Thank God you like it! I tasted it too, and I liked it, but not every person likes it.”
“But I think khichdi is comforting. It’s light, and with curd, it tastes amazing,” I replied, as she fed me another bite.
“My brazilian brother absolutely hates it,” she chuckled. “Whenever Mom made khichdi, he’d scrunch his nose in disgust.”
That made me laugh as I recalled our school memory. His lunch was untouched because it was khichdi, and once, I even complained to Adhya ma’am about it. Okay, fine, I may have been a little mean, but he was so annoying back then-I just wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine. His mom was furious and called him to the staff room, making sure he finished his lunch.
The lighthearted moment faded when I absentmindedly picked up my phone. As soon as I unlocked it, my breath hitched-there were hundreds of missed calls and messages from him.
My heart pounded. Did he find out?
I glanced at Prisha bhabhi, and she seemed to understand.
“For now, I handled it,” she said. “I told him you weren’t feeling well, but you know him-he won’t rest until he hears your voice.”
I checked the time. It had been almost fifteen hours since I arrived here.
“Please don’t tell him. I’ll talk to him myself,” I whispered.
She nodded.
I just didn’t want him to see me like this.
After I finished eating, Prisha bhabhi did everything to distract me. I was grateful for it. When the visiting hours were almost over, she started packing up.
“Why do hospitals even have visiting hours?” she sighed before leaning in to kiss my forehead again.
“Thanks, bhabhi,” I murmured. “For not treating me like some serious patient.”
She smiled, “Ruhii, you’re absolutely okay. It’s just a rough phase, and I’ll be here for you. You’re just like my Vihu…” She wiped the stray tear that escaped my eye. “And don’t cry, okay? Your eyes are too pretty to cry.”
I smiled softly and hugged her.
“Take care, alright? I’ll be back tonight. Do you want me to make something else for you?” she asked.
I shook my head, and she left as the nurse entered.
The nurse checked my vitals, gave me an injection, and left. The sky outside had turned a deep shade of orange. Evening had arrived.
I hesitated before unlocking my phone again. Vihaan’s messages flooded my screen-over a hundred, all asking if I was okay.
I quickly replied: I’m fine.
His response came within seconds: Ruh please tell me that you are okay?
I messaged him: Vihaan, I am fine. Don’t worry. I’ll talk to you later.
He sent me a long voice recording, telling me to take care of myself. I didn’t tell him about the anxiety attack. He was already busy, leaving in two days. I didn’t want to distract or worry him.
But as I listened to his voice, tears streamed down my face.
Why am I like this? Why can’t I just be normal? Why do I always mess things up?
If only I had controlled myself. If only I hadn’t taken those pills.
I curled up, listening to his voice recording on loop. I wanted to see him. But I didn’t want him to see me like this.
What would he think? Would he start hating me like Dad? Would he think I’m weak, unable to handle people’s words? Like Dad?
Dad didn’t even come to see me.
Why?
I was drowning in my thoughts when I heard footsteps approaching.
My body tensed.
I knew these footsteps.
Quickly, I pulled the blanket over myself and turned my back to the door, pretending to sleep. The only light in the room was the dim glow from the window.
I felt him sit beside me on the stool. A soft touch ran through my hair. His hand trembled slightly.
Then, I heard it.
A quiet sob.
My heart clenched. He was here.
“I can never hate you, Ruhanika,” Dad whispered, his voice choking.
Tears welled in my eyes, but I covered my mouth, trying not to make a sound.
“You are my daughter. I never wanted to hurt you, but I did. I should’ve been there for you. I made mistakes….When I opened the door and saw you lying there, lifeless, it felt like someone had taken my soul.”
My body trembled as silent tears escaped my eyes.
“The moment we got you to the hospital….I’ve seen so many patients in my career, but when I saw you like that, with all those wires attached to you, I…” His voice cracked. “And if we had been even a minute late, it could’ve led to a coma. Or worse…..I may lose you….”
I squeezed my eyes shut, gripping the blanket tightly.
“And knowing that I am the reason for pushing you to this point…..It’s killing me, Ruhii. I thought I was doing what was best for you, but I never truly asked how you felt. I should’ve known. I should’ve talked to you.”
He took a deep, shaky breath, “I know sorry won’t change anything, and I can’t undo the past. But I regret it. I didn’t come earlier because I was afraid. Afraid that if I looked into your eyes, I’d see how much I failed you. That you’d hate me.”
There was silence before he whispered, “But you were always the best daughter to me. It was me who failed as a father.”
He caressed my hair gently, “I know you’re awake, Ruhanika.”
I hesitated before turning to face him. His eyes were filled with regret and something else-hope.
“I know it’s not easy,” he said.
“And I won’t ask for instant forgiveness. But please….never do this again….Please I can never see my daughter again in this condition.”
I didn’t say anything just looked at the ceiling.
He checked my vitals, then turned off the light, “Sleep well. Kunal will be here soon.”
I didn’t respond. I just stared blankly ahead.
The moment he left, closing the door behind him, I broke down, curling into myself.
And I didn’t even realize when sleep finally took over.
β’β’β’β’β’
My body felt unbearably heavy, my mind clouded in a haze of exhaustion. Slowly, my eyelids fluttered open. A dull ache spread through my limbs as I shifted slightly, my hand instinctively reaching for my phone, only for it to slip off the table and crash onto the floor.
I winced at the noise, attempting to move when a firm yet gentle grip steadied me.
My breath hitched, my fingers brushing against the warmth of a familiar hand. He tried to pull away after making sure I was steady, but I clung to him, grounding myself in his presence.
“Vihaan,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.
“I am here,” His voice was hoarse, laced with emotions I couldn’t quite place.
He crouched beside me, his eyes searching mine with an intensity that made my chest tighten. Even in the dim light, I could see the exhaustion wrapped across his face, the redness.
“Do you need anything? Water? Are you in pain? Should I call Kunal bhai?” His words tumbled out in a rush and desperate.
I shook my head, unable to look away from him, “You’re here…”
His jaw clenched but still he composed himself and said in a calm voice, “You will told me you are okay. And I will believe you, right?”
I lowered my eyes, “I…..I am sorry…I didn’t mean to lie.”
“Ruh,” he exhaled sharply, his voice unsteady.
“When you didn’t reply to my texts, and I got too scared and no one would tell me anything…..I swear, it felt like my heart had been ripped out. I called Di, but even she wouldn’t say anything. I felt so helpless, when I got to know your condition,” He ran a shaky hand through his hair, his breathing uneven.
“And then I saw your message. A part of me felt relieved, but the rest of me…..I just-I couldn’t sit still. I had to be here.”
I glanced at the bedside table, where my medical reports had been moved, “You read them, didn’t you?”
He sighed and said, his voice laced with an unread emotion, “Yes.”
I hesitated, “You’re not going to yell at me?”
He frowned and caressed my hand, “I can never yell at you. Besides, what’s the point? Right now, I am just glad you’re here…..safe. You don’t have to carry this alone,” he whispered, his voice filled with warmth. “I see how much you’ve been holding in, Ruh.”
Tears welled in my eyes, but I blinked them back and changed the topic, “Where’s Bhai? He let you in?”
A flicker of something unreadable passed through Vihaan’s eyes, “I called Kunal bhai the moment I found out. He didn’t want to tell me anything at first, but I made it clear that I wasn’t going to back down. He eventually gave in and let me stay.”
I swallowed thickly, “I disturbed everyone. Everyone is tense because of me. I feel like…like I’m the problem. If I had just handled this better-“
“Stop.”
His voice was firm but gentle, “Ruh, listen to me. You are not the problem. You don’t have to keep pretending you’re fine when you’re not.”
I bit my lip, my chest tightening. The weight of everything-the fear, the guilt, the exhaustion-became too much. My vision blurred, and before I could stop myself, a broken sob tore through me.
Vihaan didn’t hesitate. He moved onto the bed, sitting beside me as I clung to his hand. When I turned away, curling into myself, he shifted closer, his warmth enveloping me. Carefully, i put my head onto his lap, his fingers threading through my hair, rubbing soothing circles into my back.
“You don’t have to hold it all in,” he murmured. “Just let it out, Ruh. I’m here.”
That was all it took for the dam to break. I sobbed, gasping for air between hiccups, my fingers curling into his shirt, “It’s too much… everything…..I thought I was okay. I thought I was healed. But now…”
“I know,” he whispered, his hand never ceasing in its comforting motions.
“”I feel guilty,” I admitted through my tears. “Dad came…and he looked so regretful, but I didn’t know what to say. I just stood there. I should’ve said something, but-“
“You don’t have to have all the answers right now,” he interrupted gently. “You’ve been carrying so much alone, Ruh. You don’t always have to be strong.”
My sobs slowed, exhaustion creeping back in. His fingers continued their gentle motions, lulling me into a sense of safety I hadn’t felt in a long time. My eyelids grew heavy, but I fought the pull of sleep, unwilling to let go of this moment.
In that moment, I shared everything with him-my fears, my childhood, everything I had kept buried for years. And for the first time, it was me who was speaking while he was listening.
“Sleep,” he whispered, as if sensing my hesitation. I wrapped my hands against his torso tightly and snuggled more into him.
I tighten my grip on his hand. He squeezed back, a silent promise.
And for the first time in the last few hours it felt like forever.
β’β’β’β’β’
FEW DAYS LATER-
It’s been over a week since I was in the hospital. I’m fine now, no more medicines or injections and I have started therapy again. Bhai has been with me through it all.
Today is the reception. Bhai postponed it because of my health, even though I didn’t want him to. But Prisha Bhabhi insisted, and Vihaan… he delayed his leave too. He was supposed to go, but he stayed back. And because of that, I feel guilty. It’s like everyone is facing trouble because of me.
I keep telling them I’m okay, but for some reason, my thoughts don’t feel right. Mumma sleeps with me sometimes, and if I get frustrated over something, she immediately thinks I might do something reckless again. She’s scared. So is Vihaan.
Every night, he sneaks in to my room and sleeps on the couch, watching over me from a distance. He’s afraid…..afraid that I might-
And maybe because of that fear, I haven’t even looked at any pills since I was discharged.
I only had one panic attack, but it’s all just too much. I feel exhausted.
Why is all of this suddenly happening to me?
And dad.
He has been trying to talk to me, not with many words but through small gestures-bringing me food, checking on me. A part of me wants to talk to him, to let things be normal again, but another part still feels distant, unsure of what to say. It’s strange….after all these years of silence, I don’t know how to respond to his efforts.
The reception had ended over an hour ago. Only close family and friends remained inside, but I needed space to breathe.
So, I came here, sitting on a wooden bench in the garden, staring at the dimly lit pathway. The cold wind brushed against my skin, making me shiver-not from the cold, but from the storm inside me.
Vihaan was leaving tomorrow morning. I should be happy for him, proud of everything he had achieved. But instead, my chest ached at the thought of him going.
I sent him a message, telling him where I was.
Minutes later, I heard footsteps approaching. He sat beside me, silent. We didn’t speak, just let the night air settle around us.
“Ruh?” he finally broke the silence, his voice soft yet full of unspoken concern.
I turned to him, nodding slightly.
“Are you feeling better? If not then….” he asked, his eyes searching mine.
I sighed, “I’m fine, Vihaan. You don’t have to worry.”
But he hesitated, “I’ve decided to cancel my flight tomorrow. I don’t want to leave you like this.”
My heart clenched, painfully, and before I could stop myself, I snapped, “Don’t you dare, Vihaan! You already did last time.”
He flinched slightly, taken aback by my reaction, “Ruh, your health-“
“I told you I am fine!” I interrupted.
“Why does everyone treat me like i am patient? I don’t want to become a barrier in your life. You have worked so hard for this. Don’t throw it away because of me.”
His eyes softened as he sighed, wrapping an arm around me, “You are not a barrier, Ruh. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
I leaned into his warmth for a moment before pulling away. Because I knew I had to say it. Even if it shattered both of us.
I took a deep breath and met his eyes, “Vihaan…..you’re too good.”
He raised an eyebrow, a small chuckle escaping his lips, “Of course, I am. Tell me something I don’t know.”
I chuckled for a brief second, “You’re too perfect……Too perfect for me.”
His expression turned serious, “Ruh, what are you saying?”
Tears pricked my eyes, but I refused to let them fall, “I mean it. You’re too good for someone like me. Being with me….I’ll only add problem.”
He turned fully toward me, his brows furrowing, “What are you talking about?”
I swallowed hard, “I overthink everything. My mind never stops. I get anxious over things that don’t even make sense. I drown myself in fears that might never come true. And no matter how much I try, it never fully goes away. My anxiety, my panic, my fears… they’re always there. And I can’t drag you into that.”
His jaw clenched, hands tightening into fists, “You think I don’t know all of this already? That I don’t care for you for everything that you are? Ruh, I’m not scared of your mind, your thoughts, or your fears. I want to be with you through them all.”
I shook my head, my vision blurring with unshed tears, “But I’m scared, Vihaan. I’m terrified. What if one day you get tired of me? What if my fears make you feel trapped? I don’t want to be the reason you feel suffocated.”
His breathing turned uneven, his grip tightening on my hands, “That’s not going to happen. You don’t get to decide how I feel, Ruh. You are my Ruh and I am choosing you. Every single day, I’ll choose you. No matter what your mind tells you.”
His whole body tensed, pain flashing in his eyes, “We are in this together. Please don’t do this.”
I inhaled shakily, forcing myself to say the words, “I can’t do that while being scared in every second of the day.”
Silence settled between us, heavy and suffocating. The cold wind rustled through the trees, but all I could hear was the sound of my heart breaking.
“You have always been so good to me,” I whispered, my voice trembling.
“You never judged me. You made me feel safe. With you, I came out of my shell. With you, I felt free. But I don’t know what to do anymore, Vihaan. I’m tired.”
“Then let me help you,” he pleaded, his voice raw. He suddenly stood up and pulled me into a tight hug, his arms wrapping around me as if he was afraid I would disappear.
“Please, Ruh. Don’t do this.”
I hugged him back, my hands clutching onto his shirt like a lifeline.
“I’ll only hurt you,” I whispered against his chest.
He held me even tighter, “By doing this, you are already hurting me, Ruh.”
He pulled back slightly, cupping my face. His eyes were glistening, his voice breaking, “I can’t even breathe when I don’t hear your voice. I don’t know how to live knowing you’re not a part of me anymore. Ruh, aadat ban gyi ho meri.”
I choked back a sob, “aadat ko bhulaya bhi jaa skta hai.”
Pain flashed in his eyes as he exhaled sharply, “Please….ask me to do anything, anything but this.”
He begged, “just don’t ask me to let you go.”
I pulled away, my entire body trembling, “I can’t do this anymore.”
He froze, his eyes searching for mine for something-anything-but he found nothing.
Vihaan’s breath hitched, but he didn’t fight it. Instead, he nodded slowly, swallowing hard, “It’s okay, Ruh. If you need space, if you need time. I won’t call. I won’t show up. One day, one week, one year or maybe more-however long you need. But please, don’t say things like this.”
His voice trembled, and for the first time, I saw it-the fear, the desperation.
“Do you not trust me, Ruh?” His voice shattered the silence, the hurt in his tone cutting deeper than any wound.
I clenched my fists, struggling to meet his gaze.
“Do you not trust us? Do you not trust my feelings for you, my love for you?” he asked again, this time, his voice was hoarse, his eyes glistening with unspoken pain.
I parted my lips, but no words came out. I trusted him more than I trusted myself. With every breath, every heartbeat.
He let out a trembling breath, nodding slowly as if convincing himself of something.
I moved closer, wrapping my arms around him, pressing my ear against his chest. His heartbeat was frantic, echoing the same sadness that consumed me.
“I trust you more than myself, But I know this isn’t our time,” I whispered.
His fingers tightened around me instantly, “Then why are you doing this? To me? To us? Trust me, Ruh… this is just a phase. And this is our time. We will be okay. I am with you.”
His voice was a plea, a desperate promise, as he ran his fingers through my hair. His arms wrapped around my waist, holding me so tightly it was as if he feared I would disappear.
I shook my head, stepping back, “You will be happy without me, Vihaan.”
His jaw clenched, his eyes burning with something unfamiliar-anger.
“That’s the most absurd thing you’ve ever said,” he bit out, his voice low but trembling.
I forced myself to hold his gaze, “It’s true.”
I was killing him with every word. And yet, I kept going.
“You’re good, Vihaan. And one day… one day, you’ll get tired of me, of this, of everything I come with. And I can’t watch that happen. ,” My breath hitched as I forced the words out.
Vihaan stiffened.
“I don’t think I’m right for you,” i muttered.
His expression twisted.
“Can you please stop this, Ruhanika?” His voice was louder now, frustration was evident in his voice.
I flinched. Not because of his tone, but because of my name. he called me by my name it means he is hurt and i am the one who hurts him.
He closed his eyes, inhaling sharply before exhaling just as hard, “I’m sorry.”
He whispered, his fingers ghosting over my face, his touch featherlight, “I didn’t mean to raise my voice.”
I could feel his hands tremble.
“Ruh, I know it’s not something you want….you’re not in the right state of mind. Don’t think like this. Just go home, take a rest. Trust me,” he murmured
He cupped my face gently, his thumbs wiping away my tears. His eyes were glassy, emotions swirling in them-love, desperation, fear.
A tear escaped, as he whispered,
“I can’t leave you. I swear, Every breath I take is yours…..without you, even the air feels lifeless.”
His voice broke, and so did something inside me.
I pulled back.
“Vihaan you are not understanding” I lowered my eyes not able to looking his gaze.
“You can’t even say while looking straight into my eyes,” he whispered.
I bit my lip, shaking my head, “Vihaan-“
“Please….I can’t do this anymore….I am tired of all this,” I murmmered, straight looking into his gaze.
Something inside me shattered.
The rain started pouring on us.
I had never heard him sound so helpless.
But I had to do this.
“Fine, If that’s what you want,” he whispered, stepping back.
The moment the words left his lips, I felt like my heart had been ripped from my chest. This was what I wanted-then why did it hurt like hell?
Why did his voice feel like sharp pain slicing through my soul?
I regretted everything. I regretted my words.
His warmth was gone. His voice was cold. His eyes, once filled with nothing but love for me, were now empty.
“You think I’ll be happy without you?” He let out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head.
“Fine,” His lips pressed together, his breathing uneven. “You think everything will be okay if you leave me? Fine. Let’s see, then.”
I opened my mouth to stop him, but I couldn’t.
“It’s good that I’m leaving tomorrow,” he said, his voice void of emotion. “You won’t have to see me anymore. You’ll be free of me. That’s what you wanted, right?”
His voice cracked on the last word, a tear slipping down his cheek. I shook my head violently.
“No, Vihaan-“
I stepped forward, grabbing his wrist, “Please… don’t say this. It’s hurting me.”
His body tensed. Then, slowly, he turned back to me, his expression unreadable.
“And what about me, Ruhanika?” My name fell from his lips like a broken whisper. “Do you think this doesn’t hurt me?”
Before I could speak, he pulled me against him, crushing me to his chest. Our noses brushed, our breaths mingling, the rain pouring down as if mourning with us.
His forehead pressed against mine, his fingers digging into my skin like he was terrified I’d disappear.
“You hurt me so much today and yet, all I want to do is hold you,” he whispered, his voice shaking
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to memorize this moment-his warmth, his scent, the way his breath trembled against my skin.
His lips brushed against my temple, soft and lingering.
“I always wanted to make you happy, So we will do things your way. Are you happy now?” he murmured.
I shook my head desperately.
He leaned in, pressing the softest kiss to the corner of my lips. It was barely there, yet it shattered me.
“Ruhanika…Please, take care of my Ruh, ” He whispered against my skin.
He pulled back just enough to look at me. His eyes, once filled with warmth, were now nothing but shattered pieces of what they used to be.
Then, he turned to move away.
I stood there, watching him.
And for the first time, I realized-this was what true heartbreak felt like.
I had destroyed the only person who ever truly loved me.
The rain poured as he walked away, his figure fading into the distance.
It soaked me, but the cold was nothing compared to the emptiness inside.
But worst of all, I was the one who broke him. And I hated myself for it.
The rain had seen it all-
It witnessed the way I fell for him, how his presence became my solace.
It listened to our whispered confessions, carrying our secrets in its drops.
It held every precious moment we shared.
It wrapped around us as we laughed, as our love grew, as our souls intertwined.
And now-The same rain stood witness to our heartbreak.
It held my silent sobs, echoing the storm inside me, shattering my heart, breaking into a thousand pieces.
The rain that once held our love now carries the weight of both our broken hearts.
————————————
Finally Chapter 58…!!!
So how was the chapter??
Their teenage phase ends with this chapter….and their adult phase will continue from the next chapter which will be posted after mid May.
(I mentioned it before that I will take a break and now I am taking a break till mid May. Because I want to give my sole focus on my exam…I will soon post an announcement π)
Trust me i cried while writing this chapter.
It’s not something I was actually prepared.
Many of you will think Ruhii has done stupidity but that’s how a person’s mind works when he/she is suffering from anxiety.
(Hint: And itna tension mat lena, trust me and especially Vihaan….itne saare chp padh lia aapko lagta hai Vihu apni Ruh ko aise hi jaane dega π)
And why there is no Vote in the last chapter bhai itne kam….like it didn’t even cross 980+ even after 4.5K+ reads…kyuπ if you guys don’t like the chp do tell me but aise votes me itna ganda downfall na aane do….I am not giving you targets…so itna to kar sakte ho na mere liyeπ₯Ήπ last chp par bhi votes kr dena jisne nhi Kia.
Chalo acche se votes and comments kr dena β€οΈ I am waiting β¨ please bahut saare comments krna I want to know your opinion on this chapter π₯Ί
Enjoy Reading β₯οΈ
Bye Cutiepies….!!!π
[text_hash] => 5e5b645f
)