One day, One love

Between Us, the Storm

The hospital lights were harsh and unforgiving, casting a sterile glow over everything as they waited in tense silence. Riya takes Dimple to her house as she is also not well. Abhishek paced the hallway, his heart pounding in his chest. He couldn't focus, couldn't think straight. His mind was racing between the image of his father lying in the emergency room and the look of betrayal on Manisha's face.

She sat on the bench outside Vinay's room, her eyes fixed on the ground. Abhishek had tried several times to approach her, but every time he did, she turned away, her body language cold and distant. It was like a wall had been built between them, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't break through.

Abhishek finally stopped pacing and sat down a few seats away from her, his hands rubbing over his face in frustration. "Manisha," he said softly, hoping his voice would reach her. "I'm sorry about everything—about Dad, about the pictures. But you have to believe me, I didn't do anything. I have no idea how those pictures even exist."

She remained silent, her lips pressed tightly together, her body stiff. She didn't even glance at him, her focus still elsewhere, consumed by worry for her father.

"I love you," he continued, desperation creeping into his voice. "You're my wife, Manisha. I would never hurt you like this. You know that, don't you?"

Manisha inhaled deeply, her hands clenched into fists. For a moment, it looked like she might respond, but then she shook her head and stood up abruptly. "Not now, Abhishek," she said, her tone hard and final. "We'll talk later. Right now, I can't think about anything but Dad."

Abhishek stood too, unable to sit any longer. "I'm scared too," he said, his voice breaking. "For Dad. For us. But we can't leave this hanging between us. Please, I need to know you're with me in this, that you believe me."

She finally turned to face him, her expression unreadable. There was pain in her eyes, but there was also something else—uncertainty. She looked at him for a long moment, her lips trembling as though she wanted to say something, but the words didn't come.

"I don't know what to believe right now, Abhishek," she said quietly, her voice shaking. "Everything feels like it's falling apart."

Before Abhishek could respond, a nurse walked up to them. "You can meet him but don't talk too much," she said, motioning toward Vinay's room.

Manisha's face instantly changed, worry taking over as she followed the nurse inside. Abhishek stood frozen for a moment, the words she had just spoken echoing in his mind. "Everything feels like it's falling apart."

He followed her into the room, but the atmosphere was heavy. The air between them was filled with unresolved tension. Abhishek stood quietly at the foot of his father's hospital bed, watching the slow rise and fall of Vinay's chest. Manisha sat close to Vinay, holding his hand, her gaze focused entirely on him. The warmth and love she radiated toward his father felt like a reminder of the distance now standing between them.

The steady beep of the heart monitor was the only sound breaking the silence, adding to the weight pressing down on Abhishek. He couldn't shake the overwhelming guilt gnawing at him, knowing that everything—the pictures, the accusations, the stress—had contributed to his father's collapse. And even worse, Manisha couldn't bring herself to trust him.

After a few minutes, Vinay opened his eyes, glancing first at Manisha and then slowly turning his gaze toward Abhishek. The look on his father's face was not just of disappointment, but of hurt and anger—a look that tore at Abhishek's heart.

"Dad, I—" Abhishek began, his voice cracking.

Vinay raised a weak hand, stopping him mid-sentence. "Not now," he rasped, his voice rough from exhaustion. "This is not the place to talk about... all of that."

Abhishek swallowed hard, his eyes stinging with unshed tears. He wanted to explain, to tell his father the truth—that he didn't betray Manisha, that the pictures were some sort of cruel trick. But the words felt meaningless at this moment. All that mattered was Vinay's health and the fact that his family was crumbling around him.

Manisha's grip on Vinay's hand tightened, her eyes filled with worry as she gently stroked his forehead. "Don't worry, Dad. Just rest. We'll figure everything out once you're better."

Abhishek wished those words were meant for him too, that she still believed in "we," and that there was still hope for their relationship. But the cold distance in her voice earlier echoed in his mind, reminding him that the trust between them had been shattered, possibly beyond repair. Vinay asked about Dimple, Manisha lied to him, claiming that she had just gone to Riya's house because she was tired.

The door opened, and a doctor walked in, his expression serious but calm. "Mr. Malhan, you're stable now, but we need to keep monitoring you for the next 24 hours. The stress has taken a toll on your heart, so I advise rest and avoiding any more emotional strain."

Vinay nodded weakly, his eyelids fluttering as he fought to stay awake. Manisha thanked the doctor, her voice steady, though her worry was evident in every word.

Abhishek remained silent, his presence feeling more and more out of place in this room, where he should have been a source of strength for his family but had instead become the cause of their pain.

As the doctor left, Manisha stood and leaned over Vinay, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "I'll stay here with you tonight, Dad. Don't worry about anything." Her voice was soft and soothing, unlike the sharp edge she had used when speaking to Abhishek earlier.

Abhishek watched, feeling helpless. He took a step forward, wanting to say something, to offer some kind of support but stop. Abhishek stood outside the hospital, staring into the distance. The city lights of Mumbai flickered around him, but they felt distant, like a world he no longer belonged to. He had once been so certain of his life, his future with Manisha, and his place in the family. But now, everything was unraveling. He felt like a stranger in his own story.

The images of those fake pictures flashed in his mind again, twisting his stomach. Who would go to such lengths to ruin his life? And why now? Neha's name echoed in his head, but he couldn't wrap his mind around how she would even get access to something like that. Could she really be that vengeful? Or was there someone else in the shadows, pulling the strings?

He clenched his fists, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. He needed to clear his name. He needed to prove to Manisha that those pictures were a lie. But every step felt like walking in quicksand, pulling him deeper into a mess he never created.

Just then, his phone buzzed in his pocket, pulling him out of his thoughts. He fumbled for it, heart pounding as he swiped the screen to reveal a message from Riya, his older sister. Her words were simple but laced with a quiet urgency:

"Come home, Abhi. We need to talk. I know you didn't do this."

He stared at the screen, feeling a flicker of something he hadn't felt in days—relief. A breath he hadn't realized he was holding escaped his lips. Riya believed him. Amid the swirling accusations and the storm of doubt that had surrounded him, this message felt like a lifeline. Maybe, just maybe, there was still hope.

The environment around him, once oppressive and cold, suddenly seemed to shift, as though some of the weight pressing down on him had lifted. He could almost feel a faint glimmer of light in the suffocating darkness. His fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment before he quickly typed a reply, his hands shaking slightly.

"I'm on my way."

Hitting send, he stuffed his phone back into his pocket and stood up. His mind raced with questions. What did Riya know? How much did she understand about what was really happening? But there was no time to dwell on those thoughts now. He had to get to her. She was the one person he could still trust.

***

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