TRUE LOVE NEVER GIVES UP

Chapter-72: Hope

The early morning sun streamed gently through the windows of the Murthy residence, casting a soft glow over the house, though there was no warmth in the air. The atmosphere was thick with a sorrow that weighed heavily on everyone.

As Soha and Vikrant arrived at the doorstep, their faces were clouded with guilt and uncertainty. They had come to apologize, to face Vishakha, hoping their words could somehow ease the heavy burden that weighed on all their hearts.

Bela opened the door, her eyes narrowing slightly as she saw Vikrant standing beside Soha. Though she didn’t fully trust him still without a word, she led them through the quiet halls of the house, where each step seemed to echo with the absence of Nandini’s usual energy and warmth. They reached Vishakha’s room, the door slightly ajar. Bela pushed it open gently, revealing a heart-wrenching sight.

Vishakha sat on the floor, surrounded by scattered photos of Nandini, her hands trembling as she held one close to her chest. Her eyes were red and swollen from endless tears, and her face was pale, drained of all its usual strength and dignity. She hadn’t slept. She hadn’t eaten. She had spent the night crying, consumed by the unbearable fear of losing the one person who had become her reason to live.

Bela stepped aside, allowing Soha and Vikrant to enter the room. They approached cautiously, each step heavy with guilt and shame. They sat down on either side of her, not knowing how to begin, how to breach the wall of grief that surrounded her.

For a long time, no one spoke. Vishakha just continued to gaze at the photographs, her tears slipping silently down her cheeks. Soha and Vikrant exchanged a glance, both uncertain, both wracked with the knowledge that their actions had contributed to the pain that now engulfed the room.

Finally, Vishakha’s voice broke the silence, low and trembling. “You know,” she began, her voice barely above a whisper, “when I first met Navya, she was so small, only a year old. She would always stay with me, even more than Bela.” Her voice cracked, and she blinked back more tears, her eyes focused on a distant memory.

“When I moved in with Bela and Mahir, slowly she grew up. Navya would follow me everywhere. She would sit by my side and tell me stories… stories that a two or three-year-old shouldn’t even know.” Vishakha let out a small, broken laugh, though there was no joy in it. “She always tried to make me smile. She never let me feel alone.”

Soha and Vikrant listened quietly, their hearts heavy with the depth of Vishakha’s sorrow. Soha shifted uncomfortably, her guilt growing stronger with every word that passed Vishakha’s lips.

“But still,” Vishakha continued, her voice soft and filled with a deep sadness, “Navya wasn’t mine. She belonged to Bela and Mahir. I could never keep her with me all the time, no matter how much I wanted to.”

She paused, staring down at the photo of Nandini in her hand. Her fingers trembled as she traced the edges of the image, her tears falling freely now.

“And then I met Nandini,” Vishakha said, her voice breaking. “She was so small, so innocent. She didn’t remember anything about the orphanage when she grew up. She was just this… this ray of light that came into my life when everything was dark.” Her voice trembled more, and she struggled to hold herself together. “Mahir and Bela… they treated her and Navya equally. They loved them both so much. But for me, Nandini… she gave me a reason to live. She became everything to me.”

Vishakha’s body shook as she finally let out the sobs she had been holding in, her grief bursting forth like a dam breaking under the pressure. She clutched the photo of Nandini to her chest as if it were the girl herself as if holding the picture close could somehow bring her back.