Sapphire Moonlight

Chapter 3: Echoes of the Past; Shadows of the Future

The day's victory couldn't dispel the shadows that clung to Shiva's heart. As he lay in bed that night, the image of the girl with the blue eyes surfaced once more. This time, however, it wasn't just a fleeting memory. He saw her concern etched on her face, heard the urgency in her voice as she spoke to the paramedics. A single tear escaped his tightly shut eyelids, tracing a warm path down his cheek. He yearned to know who she was, this stranger who had become a beacon in the darkness of his past.

A wave of longing for his parents washed over him. To the world, he was Shivaansh Roy, the epitome of strength and resilience. But in the quiet of his room, away from the watchful eyes, he was a child lost in the dark yearning for his mother's comforting touch, his father's lame jokes that always managed to lift his spirits. A single tear escaped, tracing a warm path down his cheek. He yearned to hear his father's booming voice say, "There there, champ, everything will be alright." But the silence mocked him, a constant reminder of their absence. He buried his face in the pillow, the familiar scent of lavender a faint echo of his mother's embrace.

A soft whimper broke through the silence. Ash, ever perceptive, nudged his hand with his wet nose. Shiva wrapped his arm around the dog's comforting warmth. Ash was his rock, his anchor in the storm, the only one who truly understood his silent pain.

The next morning, a heavy silence hung in the air during breakfast. Susheela's usual chatter was subdued, her eyes filled with concern. Shiva, however, remained stoic, a mask of composure hiding the turmoil within. Ram, ever observant, sensed the tension.

"Anything planned for today, Kuttyma?" he asked, hoping to break the ice.

Shiva shook his head, his voice raspy. "Just some paperwork and meetings. Nothing exciting." He couldn't bring himself to share the details of the upcoming surgery - the fragile hope it offered intertwined with the crippling fear of failure.

The weekend arrived, casting a long shadow of apprehension over Shiva. The mansion buzzed with activity as preparations for the party were underway. Susheela, determined to find him a suitable wife, had invited a slew of socialites and their daughters.

Shiva, dressed in a tailored tuxedo that felt more like a costume in his darkened world, felt like a stranger in his own home. His face, usually unreadable, displayed a hint of annoyance. His dark hair was meticulously combed, but his eyes, reflecting the inner turmoil, remained distant.

His grandmother, resplendent in a silk saree, beamed at him. "There you are, Shiva! You look so handsome!" He offered a small smile. "Thank you, Nani."

Ram, his ever-present shadow, stood beside him. "Ready to mingle, Shiva?" he asked, his voice laced with a hint of amusement.

Shiva offered a wry smile. "As ready as I'll ever be, Ram. Just point me in the right direction, and I'll avoid spilling champagne on anyone."

Ram chuckled. "Don't worry, I'll be your eyes and ears tonight. But seriously, try to relax and enjoy yourself. Susi has put a lot of effort into this."

Shiva nodded, but his heart wasn't in it. He knew the real reason behind the party - to parade him in front of potential wives. The thought filled him with dread.

The guests began to arrive, a cacophony of greetings and laughter filling the air. Shiva, with Ram by his side, navigated the throng, exchanging polite smiles and responding to inquiries about his well-being. His Sharp ears picked up whispers about his 'tragedy' and the 'poor blind man' – whispers that sent a cold shiver down his spine.

Then, a new voice cut through the chatter. "Shiva, is that you?, You look absolutely dashing tonight." It was Alia, the socialite his grandmother favored. She was a vision in a crimson dress, her perfectly manicured nails glinting under the chandeliers. Her smile, however, held a hint of something predatory beneath the surface.