The room smelled like antiseptic and sorrow.
I sat curled up in the corner of the hospital bed, knees tucked to my chest, the breast pump tossed on the tray table like some cruel joke I didn't laugh at.
My gown clung to my skin with dried sweat and humiliation.
I hadn't moved in hours.
I hadn’t eaten.
The baby was still in NICU, behind layers of glass, machines beeping, nurses coming and going like clockwork. And me?
I was the ghost haunting the corridor outside.
The girl everyone whispered about.
The girl who killed Aarzoo.
At least, that’s what Rudra believed.
He hadn’t come back.
Not since this morning. Not since he left me broken and shaking with his orders ringing in my ears.
“You’ll feed him every three hours.”
My throat burned with the scream I hadn’t let out.
I wanted to go home.
But did I even have one anymore?
The hospital room door creaked open.
I flinched so hard I nearly fell off the bed.
Not him.
A nurse.
Young. Quiet. She gave me a polite smile. Not the judging kind like the others. Just… neutral. Professional.
"Mr. Rathore sent this," she said softly, setting down a large insulated bag on the side table.
I stared at it.
Food. Probably.
Control.
Definitely.
"He said to remind you… feeding time is in thirty minutes."
My chest clenched.
He wasn’t here.
But he was everywhere
In the walls. The cameras. The footsteps outside my door. The way people looked at me like I was someone he owned.
The nurse left. I didn't move.
I couldn't.
Tears slipped silently again. My eyes burned from crying so much, they felt swollen. Puffy. Ugly.
Just like my heart.
I wanted to scream. To run. To tell Rudra to go to hell and take his twisted rules with him.
But I didn't.
Because Aarzoo’s baby was still in NICU.
And he needed milk.
And Rudra made sure I had no choice.
---
Later That Night
I shuffled down the corridor toward NICU, clutching the small bottle of freshly pumped milk with both hands like it was the only thing keeping me upright.
My legs were weak. My head spun.
I hadn't eaten the food he sent.
I didn't want his food.
Two guards stood near the NICU entrance. Real guards. Big. Armed.
He really didn’t want me leaving.
One of them nodded and opened the door.
I stepped inside.
The world got quiet.
Beeping.
Soft lights.
Tiny cries.
And there he was. So small. So fragile. Wrapped in blue.
Aarzoo’s baby.
I approached his little glass crib like I was walking toward judgment day.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, tears dropping onto my hand. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean for any of this. I didn’t even—”
“Don’t talk to him.”
I froze.
The deep, cold voice came from behind me.
Rudra.
He stepped into the NICU like he owned the air in the room. Like it was his world and I was the mistake dirtying it.
“You think saying sorry will fix this?” he said, walking closer.
I held the bottle tighter. “He’s crying.”
“You poisoned his mother.”
I turned to face him, eyes wet, heart heavy. “I didn’t—”
“Don’t say that again,” he snapped. “Don’t lie to me. I will find proof.”
I wanted to scream. Beg. Shout the truth.
But nothing came out.
Because even if I did…
He’d never believe me.
---
YOU ARE READING
Only His✔️
RomanceI thought monsters lived in nightmares. Then I met him. Rudra is powerful, feared, and impossible to defy. When he took me into his mansion, I thought it was to save me. I was wrong. His kindness hides chains. His touch burns like fire and freezes l...
