The Moon to my night

39

∞ a ten-year-old∞

Aradhaya Singh Rajvansh

I opened my eyes to see familiar surroundings—the same ones I woke up to seven years ago. As I looked around, a nurse walked into the room.

"What's the date, sister?" My voice trembled, fearing the answer.

"Miss Rajvansh, how are you feeling now?" She approached with a smile.

"Sister, can you please tell me the date and time?" I pressed, anxiety tightening my chest. She fumbled with her phone.

"It's 11:55 PM, July 8th." I exhaled a breath of relief, reassuring myself that I was here and everything was okay. "Thank you," I smiled as she left the room. But the next moment, Rudransh entered. His hair was disheveled, and his cheeks were stained, as if he'd been crying.

He sat beside me, and flashes of what had happened a few hours ago flooded my mind. He had brought me to the hospital, and everything had spiralled out of control. The plain white room seemed to close in on me, suffocating me.

"Rudransh," I blurted out in the coldest tone I could muster. I didn't want any company right now; it was all too much.

"Dhaya." He sat beside me, reaching for my hand, but I pulled away. "How are you?" His voice was soft, but the gentleness only intensified my turmoil. I needed space, time to process everything—the reality that the trauma still felt fresh, even after all these years. "I'm fine. Thanks for your help." I forced the words out, trying to maintain my composure.

"Aahana told me." His words made it clear he knew. I couldn't discuss it, not now. It was overwhelming, and I couldn't handle it. He began to speak, "Dhaya, I'm sorry, I didn't know—"

"Don't be sorry. Can you leave me alone? It's suffocating for me." The words came out harsher than I intended, but he needed to understand I needed space.

"Suffocating?" he repeated, hurt evident in his voice.

I shook my head, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on me. "Yes, Rudransh, it's suffocating for me to have you here. Please leave me alone."

The doctor walked in after about an hour, my eyes aching from all the tears I had shed. He entered the room with Rudransh, who stood beside him with an emotionless face.

"Miss Rajvansh, how are you feeling now?" the doctor asked, checking my vitals with the politest tone. "I'm fine," I replied, receiving an assuring smile from him.

"You can take her home, Mr. Chauhan," the doctor said, nodding to me before leaving the room. Rudransh walked over, holding my hand to help me off the bed. He remained silent, his eyes avoiding mine. He was just there, present but distant. As we walked out to the reception, I asked, "Discharge papers and bill?"

"It's taken care of," he replied, the only words he'd spoken since we left the hospital. He drove me to the penthouse without saying another word. He didn't leave immediately but walked me inside my room. "Do you wish to have soup?" he asked in a neutral tone, settling me into bed.

"No, I'm good. I need to get changed before sleeping," I said, and he nodded. I went into the bathroom, washed my face, and changed into a night suit. My reflection showed a tired, pale face, the bags under my eyes a testament to the night's events.

When I came out, Rudransh was sitting on the couch. "You might not like it, but I can't leave you alone, at least not tonight. I'll be in the living room. If you need anything, just call me. Have a good night." He didn't wait for a response and left me standing there.