Unwanted [COMPLETED]

Chapter 16

Vikrant

"Thank you for coming at such short notice, Dr. Mehta," I tell the doctor, leading her to my room to check on Nandini.

She was lying on the bed where I had placed after she fainted a while back.

"Would you like to wait outside while I check on Mrs. Sisodiya?" The doctor asks me after entering the room.

Nodding at her, I walk out.

As I pace outside the room, I feel the guilt creep into me when I remember Nandini's teary face and voice.

You fucked up big time, Vikrant. You really did.

"Of all the girls I could have chosen to marry for my revenge, I chose this one. Why?" I feel angry at myself when her heartbreaking wails ring in my ears.

I take a few deep breaths, trying to eliminate the suffocating feeling.

"How could I have known she was an unwanted daughter by her parents? How could I have known she had been suffering at the hands of her parents since her birth? How could I have known her story? No, I'm not at fault. I'm not." I try to reassure myself, but it doesn't help.

The guilt bubbles inside me, and I'm unable to dampen it. I'm unable to remove the pinch I feel every time I remember how I told her not to expect anything from me on our wedding night.

I recount how devastated she had looked when I told her she was the unwanted wife.

"Fuck! Fuck!! Fuck!!!"

How fucking insensitive of me. I wonder how she must have felt at that moment—from being an unwanted daughter her entire life to being an unwanted wife.

No wonder she didn't throw any tantrums or get mad at me when I announced she and our marriage meant nothing to me.

I thought she did it because she had ulterior motives. But now I understand she did it because she was used to it.

She was used to being unwanted all her life, so she simply accepted when I said the same thing.

"And I kept taunting her and reminding her of her status in my life." I shake my head, feeling like an idiot, as I recall those taunts.

I snap out of my reverie when I hear my bedroom door open and see Dr. Mehta walking out of the room.

"How is she now?" I ask her.

"Mrs. Sisodiya has a high fever, and she looks dehydrated too. I injected her with an antipyretic. That will get the fever down. I also suggest you put cold sponges over her forehead, hands, and feet, which will help reduce the fever," the doctor tells me. "Once she wakes up, try to make her eat and drink to hydrate herself. Give her a tablet of paracetamol if her fever doesn't go down in the next six hours. I will come to check on her tomorrow morning."

I nod at her. "Thank you, doctor."

Saying that I'm about to walk her out, but she stops me.

"There is one other thing I need to talk with you about," she says, and I frown at the seriousness in her voice.

"What is it, Dr. Mehra?"

"While I was examining her, Mrs. Sisodiya was mumbling something. It was incoherent initially, but as I listened closely, it sounded like, 'not my fault' and 'they hate me.' Is there something that is bothering her?"

I shuffle hesitantly on my feet. "Umm, yes, she has been distressed about something lately."

The doctor regards me thoughtfully for a second before she says, "I think that distress is the reason behind her condition. If something is bothering her deeply, maybe she would like a consultation with a psychiatrist?"