Tycoon's Twisted Woman

2- Old lady

I didn't sleep the whole night.

I neither cried nor felt anything, just the persistent pain in my shoulder. When I saw the first light in the sky, I picked up my bag, put on fresh clothes, and left without informing or meeting my parents.

I had no destination in mind, no one to turn to, and no one to rely on. I bought a train ticket to Mumbai online and boarded the train.

After finding my seat, I sat down, unsure of why I was even heading there. I didn’t have much money, no home, no job—just a Business Management degree.

It’s now 7 a.m. I haven’t eaten since yesterday, and after taking heavy medication, I decide to have breakfast. But just as I’m about to take a bite of the sandwich I bought earlier, I think of my parents.

I know they hate me. Maybe yesterday they felt some guilt or regret because they’re not killers. They just want me out of their lives.

But I kept clinging to them, even after they made it clear they no longer wanted anything to do with me.

Why? I don’t know.

Maybe it’s because of my father's family.

I sighed deeply and took a bite of the sandwich, my heart heavy. I’m not weak, nor am I heartless—I’m just hurt.

Inner wounds take much longer to heal than outer ones. I’m not heartless for leaving my parents behind, but I’m too hurt to forgive them. Maybe one day I’ll be able to forgive the pain they caused—both in my heart and body—but not today.

Once I finished the sandwich, I took a painkiller. I placed my hand on my bandaged chest and winced in pain.

Time dragged by slowly. The warm atmosphere of the air-conditioned compartment made it cozy enough to fall asleep.

Because of the medication, I didn’t even realize when I drifted off. I was jolted awake by sudden pain when someone gently shook my left shoulder. The injury made it unbearable.

"Uhh..." I groaned in pain.

"Oh, I’m so sorry, dear. I didn’t mean to hurt you, but this is my seat. Could you please move your luggage?" said an elderly woman. She looked to be in her 70s, but her warm smile made her appear youthful, sweet, and wealthy.

"Sorry, aunty," I muttered and quickly moved my bag from her seat, placing it under mine.

"It’s alright, dear. No need to apologize. In fact, I’m sorry for waking you up—you look exhausted," she said, her voice filled with concern.

"It’s okay, aunty. No worries," I replied with a small smile. That’s when I noticed we had reached Delhi, and it was already 11 a.m.

I had slept for four hours straight. Looking at my phone, I decided to start job hunting. I was willing to do anything—cleaning, waitressing, or even an internship if I could find one. I needed to start somewhere, but I had to search online.

I became so absorbed in my phone that I forgot about the lady sitting next to me until she received a phone call.

"Hello, my child," she said warmly to the person on the other end. I could faintly hear a male voice.

"Grandma, did you get your seat? I told you to take a flight, but you were so determined to take that slow train, and now it’s going to take you hours to reach Mumbai," he said, sounding irritated.

"Oh, Ansh, my dear, I’m perfectly fine and enjoying this trip. I’m sitting next to a lovely young lady. Don’t worry, I’ll be in Mumbai by tomorrow morning. For now, keep your frustration and anger aside and start preparing because your beautiful grandma is coming home," she replied, her smile warm and soothing.

Her praise for herself made me smile. She had this aura about her that made me feel lighter, somehow.

When she hung up, she turned her attention to me. I could sense her watching me curiously from the corner of my eye.

"Are you job hunting in Mumbai?" she asked, surprising me.

"Uh...yes," I replied, trying not to sound rude but unable to help it.

"Can you tell me about your qualifications? Maybe I can help," she offered with a genuine smile, confusing me even more.

"Huh?" I stammered, taken aback. How could she possibly help, and why would she want to help a complete stranger?

"Alright, I see you have many questions buzzing in that pretty head of yours. Why don’t we start with a proper introduction? We have a long journey ahead, and we’ll be together until tomorrow morning," she said with a chuckle.

Her wrinkled face made her appear old, yet kind and sweet at the same time.

"I’m Shalini Jairaj Rajvansh, an old but still beautiful woman from Mumbai," she introduced herself with a small chuckle that made me smile.

She was funny and refreshingly cool for her age, unlike the elderly women who often judge and criticize young, independent females.

"I’m Mishthi Bansal, from Agra," I introduced myself, though I didn’t know how to do it as confidently as she did.

"Mishthi! Such a sweet name, just like its meaning," she said as she affectionately caressed my head.

Her gentle touch brought tears to my eyes. I was missing my mom.

"Oh dear, did I hurt you by any chance? I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry," she panicked, noticing the tears in my eyes.

"Oh no, aunty, it’s not you. I just miss my mom," I admitted, blinking away the tears.

"Is this your first time traveling without your parents?" she asked, her voice full of concern.

"Um, yeah...kind of. Well, actually, yes, and it’s going to be for a long time without them," I replied, looking down.

"Don’t worry, I’m here to keep you company and make sure you smile. Now, tell me about your qualifications. I really want to help," she insisted warmly.

Can I trust her?

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Author_sanshi