In a bustling city where cynicism reigns supreme, Virendra is a man who scoffs at love and harbors a deep-seated distrust towards women. His world is meticulously controlled, until the day he meets Riddhi Mirasdar.
Riddhi, a resilient and compassion...
Returning home after a long day at the hospital, I sought refuge in the quiet of my room. Ignoring the distant murmurs downstairs, I sank onto my bed, weary from both physical exhaustion and the weight of impending dread. The hushed conversation between my aunt and uncle sent shivers down my spine, their words like a premonition of looming darkness.
As the whispers ceased, footsteps approached my room, each step echoing in my ears like a countdown to a dreaded confrontation. With a sudden bang, the door swung open, revealing my uncle's furious figure. His face was contorted with rage, his eyes burning with an intensity that froze me in place.
"What did I tell you about ignoring me?" His voice was low and menacing, sending a chill down my spine. I stood frozen, my hands trembling uncontrollably as fear gripped my heart.
"I... I am sorry," I managed to stammer before he seized my hair, wrenching me to the ground. Pain shot through me as I struggled to comprehend his words.
"You've always been a burden," he spat, his words laced with bitterness. "Your parents left you to us as a responsibility. Now it's time you fulfill your duty. Marry that man and transfer your property to me, or you'll regret it. This time, it will be worse than before."
With those threatening words, he stormed out of the room, leaving me gasping for breath and sobbing uncontrollably. This was not the first time he had made such demands, exploiting the trust my parents had placed in him.
Curling up on my bed, I clutched the photo of my parents tightly to my chest. Tears streamed down my face as I whispered silent prayers, wishing they were here to protect me from the torment inflicted upon me by their own brother.
Unable to bear the weight of my anguish alone, I messaged Muskan, pleading for her to meet me the next day. Exhausted and emotionally drained, I spent the night sobbing, seeking solace in memories of happier times when my parents were still alive.
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The next morning, after a restless night of tears and torment, I woke early and quietly slipped out of the house. Avoiding any encounter with my uncle, who had left for his office, I made my way to the park to meet Muskan. The fresh air and the company of my best friend were a welcome relief from the suffocating atmosphere at home.
As Muskan and I settled on a bench under the shade of a large tree, she wasted no time in voicing her frustration and concern.
"So why don't you just give them the property?" Muskan asked, her voice tinged with anger. "Why do you have to endure so much suffering?"
I sighed, knowing Muskan's impulsive nature and her fierce loyalty towards me. "Because signing those property papers means I'll be forced to marry a man I don't even know," I explained quietly. "They're not pressuring me to marry yet because they want control over the property."
Muskan's face darkened with anger. "I wish I could go right now and teach them a lesson for what they've done to you," she said vehemently.
"Shubh shubh bol, Muski," I replied softly, using our childhood nickname for each other. "No matter what, I wouldn't wish harm upon them."
In her mind, Muskan marveled at my kindness. Despite the cruelty inflicted upon me by my uncle and aunt, I still harbored no ill will towards them.
"You're too good, Riddhi," Muskan finally said aloud, admiration and concern mingling in her voice. "But you can't keep suffering like this. We need to find a way to help you."
I nodded, grateful for Muskan's unwavering support. After talking to Muskan, I headed back to the hospital for my shift. The routine of work was a welcome distraction from the turmoil at home.
As I started my rounds, I entered room number 54 and saw Virendra Pandey. The moment he saw me, his eyes lit up, and a warm smile spread across his face. His presence always had an inexplicable effect on me. His honey brown eyes, fair skin, broad shoulders, deep voice, and perfectly groomed moustache and beard were all so captivating. But I reminded myself that he was my patient, and I had to remain professional.
"Good morning, Dr. Riddhi," he greeted me, his deep voice sending a sudden sensation through my body. I struggled to maintain my composure.
"Good morning, Mr. Pandey. It's good to see you're recovering fast. You'll be discharged soon," I said, trying to sound casual. But it was clear he wasn't paying attention to my words; his eyes were locked onto mine, making me feel incredibly self-conscious.
Before I could let any more of my emotions show, I quickly finished my check-up and left the room, my heart racing. This patient was becoming a distraction, and I needed to keep my feelings in check.
