Blossom and Burn

Chapter 44: Gone

Irisha:

I don't remember leaving the house. I don't remember walking down the porch, stepping out of the main doors, or even how I managed to find my way home. Everything felt like a blur, like I was floating in a hollow space, disconnected from the world around me.

The divorce papers.
My signature.
It was over.

The weight of the realization pressed down on my chest, but I couldn't cry. I couldn't scream or yell or feel anything other than this strange, suffocating numbness.

When I finally stepped into my house, I barely registered the presence of my family in the living room, making my way up the stairs.

I didn't even turn to face them and their faces contorted in concern. Their voices were distant echoes in my head, blending together in a chaos of questions and worry.

"Isha, what happened?" Mom's voice was the first to break through. I looked at her, and I could see the fear in her eyes. The fear that maybe something inside me had broken beyond repair.

"Isha, look at me bachha." My father's voice was more steady, though I could hear the edge of worry. He stood beside my mother, waiting - no, begging for me to say something, anything that would explain why I had walked through the door looking like a ghost of myself.

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. How could I possibly tell them? How could I say aloud that the man I thought I had spend forever with was no longer mine? That I wasn't even sure he ever had been.

"Irisha, please…" Chachu approached me, gently resting his hand on my shoulder. "What's going on? You are scaring us."

I wanted to answer him. I really did. But every time I tried to form the words, they twisted in my throat, refusing to come out. How could I explain to them the pain clawing at my chest, the void swallowing me whole?

"Is there anything we can do to make it better?" Papa added, looking into my eyes, searching for something, anything but they were blank.

"Irisha," my brother Rishit stepped closer, his face filled with concern. "Just tell me. We will fix it. Whatever it is, we will handle it."

Fix it.

There was nothing to fix. It was already broken, shattered beyond repair. Veer was gone, and no amount of well-meaning promises could bring back the pieces of what we once had.
And that was what terrified me the most. That I had lost something I wasn't even sure I ever really had.

"I just…" My voice came out like a whisper, hoarse from holding everything in. "Mujhe Sona hai."

My mother blinked in surprise, her brow furrowing. "Sleep? Irisha, what -?"

"Please," I interrupted, my voice cracking. "Bas kuch der akele rahna chahti hoon mai."

Their eyes, full of love and concern, stared at me, searching for answers I wasn't ready to give. I didn't want to talk. I didn't want to explain, to relive the gut-wrenching moment I signed those papers and walked away from the man who had been my whole world.

"I just - I don't want to talk right now." The words trembled as they left my lips, but they were the only thing I could manage.

Dad exchanged a glance with my mom, a silent conversation happening between them. He nodded slightly, his face softening with understanding. "Alright, Irisha," he said quietly, "Take your time but we are here, okay? Whenever you are ready."

I nodded, though I wasn't sure when or if I would ever be ready. I just wanted to escape. To slip into oblivion, where the pain couldn't reach me, where I didn't have to think about him, or his cold, detached expression when he said he doesn't trust me, or the way my heart had felt like it was being ripped from my chest.