After The Rain

Chapter Thirty-Two - Heart Of Gold

NOT proofread. Please ignore the mistakes. I will fix them afterwards.

Perhaps the light
that made her beautiful
was not from her eyes,
nor from her smile,
but from the way
that no matter the darkness
that swirled around her,
within her,
she still found the courage to shine.

- Mandy Antoniacci.

~

Khushi hated hospitals.

The place always reminded her of bad memories - her as an eight-year-old standing in a room of pure white walls and listening to the doctor as he announced that her parents had left her forever, her as a nineteen-year-old crying in the hospital corridors because she felt like she was losing her father all over again, and her spending weeks locked in a white cell after her accident. It was just altogether disconcerting to be within that building.

Her pre-existing dislike of the hospital, therefore, didn't help her nerves as Arnav guided her through the entrance and towards Anjali-ji's room. He had been diligent to keep checking on her and making sure that she was up for the meeting. But even though she had constantly reassured him that she was fine, the reality was anything but that. She didn't want to meet Anjali, not so soon after she learned about Shyam and her history. She dreaded what Anjali might want to talk about. But she also knew that she had to do this for the sake of closure, not just for her but also for the woman who just had her world ransacked.

She took a deep breath as they neared the door behind which Anjali-ji was admitted. Arnav-ji, who already had one hand on the small of her back, snaked his other hand around her waist, and pulled her close. His face was softer than usual.

"Do you need me to come inside with you?" he asked.

Khushi tried for a brave smile. "It's your sister, Arnav-ji, not the mafia boss. I'll be fine."

Arnav tried to gauge her real feelings from her eyes which she tried her best to hide. Finally, he let out a small sign and reached down to peck her forehead.

"I've got a few calls to make," he said. "I'll join you in a few minutes."

His hands left her, but he gave her another kiss, this time on the cheek before walking away. Khushi watched his retreating figure for a few seconds. Then, she steeled her nerves, and pushed the door open.

The room was reminiscent of the one she had woken up in about a week ago. Pristine white walls, a set of sofas in one corner and a table filled with flowers in another. The only difference was the window - it was not floor length but a big square at the back of the room, opening up to a yard.

On the left side of the room, was the bed and on it, a fully awake Anjali. She had been gazing outside the window but turned her head at the sound of the door opening. The second her eyes landed on her, Khushi felt her heart still

The usually sweet and kind face of Anjali was now uncharacteristically ashen. Her skin was marred with lines as if she had aged years in a matter of days. Her eyes no longer twinkled. Instead, they retained the remnants of a shattered, haunted look. And when she attempted a smile, it was devoid of its usual radiance. She was still beautiful, but she was not herself.

Her wrists were bandaged, and there were cuts and bruises along the length of her arms. A bluish-black color stained her neck.

Despite her resolution to remain strong, Khushi felt her eyes welling up. Nonetheless, Anjali's smile didn't waver at the sight of Khushi's distress for her.

"Hello, Khushi-ji," she said, her voice a mere hoarse whisper. Khushi remembered the details of what had happened to her. Her vocal cords were hurt when Shyam had strangled her. According to the doctor, she was to talk minimally. That reminder did nothing to stop the growing pain in Khushi's chest.