The afternoon sun filtered weakly through the half-drawn curtains of a dim room, casting long shadows across the floor. In the corner, Shehnaaz Shukla sat curled up, hugging a photo frame to her chest like it was her last connection to life. Her once radiant face was dull and lifeless, eyes puffy and red from endless nights of silent weeping. Her lips trembled slightly, dry and cracked from the lack of water and constant crying. Her soul looked tired—too tired to fight, too broken to hope.
Just a few months ago, she had been the heart of any room. A girl full of laughter, who danced through life like a child discovering the world. That girl was gone now—buried under the weight of sorrow, crushed under the ruins of a love that never had the chance to bloom.
Her fingers tightened around the photograph, the glass biting into her skin. She leaned her head back against the headboard, eyes heavy with drowsiness and pain. Her body ached with weakness, but her mind wouldn’t stop screaming. So many questions, all unanswered. Why did he leave? Why didn’t he care? Was she so easy to forget?
Outside, a sleek car rolled to a halt in front of the mansion. A man stepped out and stretched with a yawn, completely oblivious to the storm awaiting him inside.
"Finally, I reached," he muttered with a tired smile.
Sidharth Shukla entered the house, eyes scanning the familiar space with mild detachment. In the past six months, he hadn’t once called home—only short messages sent out of formality. An arranged marriage was never what he wanted. He had asked for time, begged his family to wait. But they had insisted, and so had she. And now, she was his wife—on paper at least.
He handed his luggage to the servant without sparing a glance.
“Inhe kamre mein rakhwa do.”
With a commanding nod, he walked upstairs. The clock ticked past three in the afternoon. Odd. The house was eerily silent, and the bedroom was cloaked in darkness. He flipped the switch and froze.
There she was.
Sitting silently in a corner of the room, arms wrapped around her knees, her face hollowed by grief.
His heart skipped a beat.
“Shehnaaz?”
He rushed toward her and reached for her hand—but she recoiled like his touch burned her.
And then her voice thundered, shaking the air between them.
“Aab kyu aaye ho? Chain mil gaya kya... mere... mere bache ko maar ke?” she snapped at him angrily, her eyes filled with something he never saw before.
Hatred
The rawness in her voice made his heart lurch. She never raised her voice. Never questioned anyone. But today, her agony roared through the walls.
“Bacha? Konsa bacha? Aur kab hua?” he asked, stunned. He scanned the room, confused, searching for something—anything. “What did she just say?”
Shehnaaz laughed bitterly, clapping her hands slowly, her glare sharp enough to slice through him.
“Ohh wow, kab? Aur konsa bacha? Humara bacha, Mr. Sidharth Shukla. Mera bacha. Jise tumne maar diya!” She lurched forward and grabbed his collar, her fingers trembling, her eyes blazing with pain and fury. Tears spilled down her cheeks uncontrollably.
She looked at him—not as a husband, not even as a man—but as the one who had shattered her completely. The one she loved, trusted... and who had broken her in silence.
Sidharth’s own anger bubbled up, but it was dulled by confusion and shame.
“Yeh kya bakwas kar rahi ho? Aur upar se tumne mujhe bataya kyun nahi ki main baap banne wala tha?!” he asked angrily. How can she hid the truth from him?
He gripped her shoulders in frustration, shaking slightly. She tried to push him away, but her body betrayed her—it was too weak.
“Chhodo mujhe! I hate you! Or tumhe btati jisse mai he pasand ni thi, you never wanted me in your life and you-” She screamed, and then—she went still.
Her eyes rolled back, and her body slumped into his arms.
“Shehnaaz? Shehnaaz! Utho... please... uth jao,” he whispered, panic setting in. He patted her cheeks gently, then harder. She didn’t move.
His heart raced. He picked her up and laid her carefully on the bed, calling the doctor with trembling hands. Guilt clawed at his insides. How did this happen? How could he not know?
Minutes later, the doctor arrived and examined her, removing her stethoscope with a sigh.
“Yeh depression pills ka asar hai. Aksar inse behoshi hoti hai. Don’t worry, hosh aa jayega ek do ghante mein. Lekin... yeh khud ka khayal bilkul nahi rakhti. Mujhe hamesha kehna padta hai—khana khao, rest lo. Par nahi. Kaafi dinon se kuch khaya bhi nahi inhone. I wonder yeh zinda kaise hai...”
The doctor’s words were daggers. Sidharth sat frozen, the weight of it all pressing down on him.
“Doctor!!!” he snapped, unable to control the rising anger. The fear in his voice was clear.
“Sorry to say, but inki halat dekh kar toh mujhe yeh hi laga. Waise toh unke bhai regularly call karte the, par lagta hai abhi yahan nahi hain.”
Sidharth's hands trembled as he brushed a strand of hair from Shehnaaz's face. Tears pooled in his eyes. Six months. He had been gone six months. What had he done?
“Yeh kya halat bana li tune... Uth na... Mujhse baat kar...” he whispered
“Waise, how are you related to her? Kabhi dekha nahi aapko.” the doctor asked
“I... I am her husband.” Sidharth quietly replied
The doctor narrowed her eyes, expression turning cold.
“Then I must say... yeh sab aapki hi galti hai. Aap jaise pati ko toh... kya hi kahu. Kab aaye ho pichli baar? Kab pucha inka haal?” doctor asked angrily
He looked away in shame.
“Actually, main bahar tha... business ke chakkar mein...” Sidharth tried to explain himself when doctor interrupted him in the midst
“Right. Business ke chakkar mein aap bhool gaye ki yahan aapki wife pregnant thi?” she asked sarcastically
“Mujhe pata nahi tha...” Sidharth replied, absent mildly
“Aur puchne ki koshish ki? Kya kabhi ek baar bhi call karke poocha—kaisi ho, Shehnaaz?”, she asked
Silence. He had no answer.
“She was broken then. She is still broken. Can you fix her? Laa sakte ho uska bacha wapas? Uske woh din wapas de sakte ho jab woh akeli thi, jab uska dard usi ka tha aur aapka saaya tak nahi tha?” the doctor asked, her words pricked his heart
Every word struck deeper than the last. Sidharth lowered his head again.
“Par... maine kaise maara apne bache ko?”, Sidharth asked, shocked and bewildered
His voice was barely a whisper, lost in the echo of his guilt, searching for a clue—anything to make sense of this nightmare.
________
Here is the prologue of my new story
YOU ARE READING
can you mend the broken✓(Editing)
Fanfiction•°•°•★Cover by: @AmreenShaikh6 Sidharth Shukla married Shehnaaz Gill After one week of marriage, he left the city due to some important work at his office. When he came back after 6 months, he found his wife living like a corpse. From the doctor, h...
