Shehnaaz stormed into her office, the weight of the morning’s confrontation with Sidharth heavy on her chest. The office, once Sidharth’s domain, now belonged to her — a symbol of the shift in their lives, even if the emotional scars still ran deep. The memory of his coldness, the hollow promises, and her broken dreams burned inside her like an unhealed wound. She marched into her cabin, slamming the door behind her, frustration bubbling over as she slammed her palm on the desk.
“Nikhil!” she barked sharply into the phone, her voice trembling with barely contained anger. “Where are those files? What about the meetings? This mess can’t continue!”
Without waiting for a reply, she grabbed the glass of water on her desk and threw it aside, the splash echoing her inner turmoil. Her heart ached as the doctor’s harsh words echoed in her mind: “You can’t be a mother again… Your body is too weak. You should have taken care of yourself. Where is your husband? He should be by your side.”
Those words shattered something inside her, snatching away the last pieces of hope she had clung to. Since that day, the warmth in her smile faded, replaced by a cold resolve. She wasn’t the same Shehnaaz anymore — she was a woman forged by pain and loss, building walls around her heart to protect herself from further hurt.
When Nikhil entered hesitantly, clutching the files, his hands trembled. He knew better than to upset her today. “Mam, I finished yesterday’s work and secured this file for tomorrow’s meeting. You have a session with some new clients who just returned from Germany,” he said softly.
Her breath hitched. Germany — that meant Sidharth. The thought of facing him in the same office sent a chill down her spine. But a fire flared in her eyes. No matter what, she would not let him win. She clenched her jaw and commanded, “Where are Malhotra’s files? I asked Rita to finish them.”
Nikhil swallowed nervously. “Mam, Rita was ill yesterday… she couldn’t complete the work.”
“That’s no excuse!” Shehnaaz snapped. “Call her here now. I want to hear it from her.”
Nikhil fled the room, heart pounding, and within minutes, Rita timidly appeared, eyes red-rimmed from tears. But Shehnaaz’s fury was relentless.
“Where the hell were you yesterday? I hired you to work, not to slack off. You’re careless! I don’t tolerate irresponsibility here — you’re fired!” Her voice cracked the silence like a whip.
Rita tried to explain her illness, but Shehnaaz wouldn’t hear it, pushing her out without mercy. The door slammed shut behind her, the sound echoing Shehnaaz’s own fractured emotions.
She walked to the window, gazing out over the gleaming city buildings, their beauty cruelly mocking her. “I never wanted to become like this,” she whispered to herself. “But what choice do I have? In this world, to survive, you have to become stone-hearted.”
Her hands trembled as she reached into her bag and pulled out a worn photograph from her sonography scan — the only tangible memory of her lost child. Tears threatened to spill, but she fought them back, stroking the picture gently.
“Zoro baby, why did you leave your mumma?” she whispered, voice breaking. “Look, your mumma is strong… but also so weak. I can’t stay strong without these medicines. What am I supposed to do now?”
She swallowed hard, reaching for the pills beside her, when suddenly a soft voice interrupted.
“Pagal ho gayi hai kya tu, Sana?” Shanaya’s concerned whisper broke through her haze as she hugged Shehnaaz tightly. “Don’t let your heart turn to stone, meri jaan. Maybe you should adopt a baby.”
Shehnaaz stiffened but said nothing. She could shout at the world, at anyone — but not Shanaya. She was the one person who saw through her walls.
“Then tell me,” Shehnaaz said bitterly, “what am I supposed to do? You won’t let me die, fate won’t let me be a mother again, and now Mr. Shukla’s back.”
Shanaya’s eyes widened in shock. “What? When? Why didn’t you tell me? You know I hate him! Because of him, you couldn’t care for your baby alone. You cry every day because he broke your heart. Come with me — you can’t live with him.”
Tears slipped down Shehnaaz’s cheeks as Shanaya wiped them away. “I’m fine,” she whispered fiercely. “I won’t come with you. I have to tell him exactly how much I suffered… and how much he owes me.”
Shanaya’s voice hardened. “Love you, but don’t you dare forgive him. You’ve endured enough pain. It’s his turn to suffer. Ignore him.”
“I will,” Shehnaaz promised softly. “But I won’t be a burden on you or your husband.”
“You’re not a burden! You’re my best friend — my jaan, Sana,” Shanaya insisted angrily. “Go file those divorce papers tomorrow and make him sign.”
“He won’t,” Shehnaaz replied doubtfully.
“Then I’ll make him,” Shanaya growled. “And don’t you dare think about him anymore — if he dies, I won’t care. You worried about him enough already. Please, come with me.”
Shehnaaz nodded faintly, but the truth was, she was alone in this war.
Meanwhile, Sidharth paced his empty room, stomach knotted with hunger and worry. He hadn’t eaten since morning, waiting for Shehnaaz to return, desperate for a sign she still cared. But she was nowhere.
Sometimes, pain demands compassion, even from those who hurt us the most. And sometimes, the strongest bond is friendship — the lifeline when love fades away. But if no one stands by us, can we find the strength to stand alone?
---
What will Shehnaaz do next? Will she find peace through letting go, or will she let her broken heart hold her captive forever?
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...
