• The Way Back Home •

10

Priya felt a crushing sense of déjà vu, the worst kind imaginable. She had done this before—sat by Ram's side, watching him sleep, powerless to do anything but hope he would wake up.

But this time was different.

This time, it wasn't just an illness at the start of their marriage. Ram wasn't lying in their home, recovering from a fever or exhaustion. He was in a hospital bed, surrounded by machines that blinked and beeped, each sound a reminder of how far they'd fallen. And this time, she was his culprit.

Her jaw tightened as tears stung her eyes.

If only she hadn't chosen Eshan back then. If only she hadn't tried to control everyone's fate—Ram's, Pihu's, even her own. If only she had told Ram the truth, let Eshan face the consequences of his own actions, and trusted Ram to stand by her. If only she hadn't tried to play God.

Her gaze drifted to Ram's face, pale and still against the stark white pillow. His body was frail, his chest rising and falling unevenly. She exhaled noisily, her fingers trembling in her lap.

If only she had made better choices, none of them would be here. None of them would be suffering like this.

She thought back to the day of their wedding—her impulsive decision to confront Nandini alone, to challenge her without even informing Ram. That had been the beginning of this spiral, hadn't it? Her actions, her decisions, always seemed to bring him pain.

Priya's breath hitched. For a brief, shameful moment, she considered leaving again. She had caused enough damage, hadn't she? Maybe Ram and Pihu would be better off without her. But then, her daughter's voice echoed in her mind:

"I'm staying with Papa. You don't get to decide for me, Mama. Not now."

Pihu had been her anchor, forcing her to face the ugly truth: she had failed them both. But leaving wasn't the solution. She had to stay and fix what she could, even if it was too late for forgiveness.

Her thoughts shattered when a soft, hoarse voice pulled her back to reality.

"Can't sleep?"

Her head snapped up. Ram's eyes were half-open, glassy but searching.

"Ram..." she whispered, sitting up straight. "You're awake."

"Barely," he murmured. His voice was weak, but the corners of his lips twitched, almost as if he wanted to smile. "What time is it?"

"Late," she said softly. "You should rest."

"Hard to do when someone's staring at you like they're trying to burn holes through your face," he quipped, though his voice lacked its usual spark.

Priya bit her lip, guilt washing over her again.

"Why are you here?" Ram asked, his brow furrowing slightly. "This... this isn't your job. Your family—"

"Don't worry about them," she interrupted gently.

Ram's frown deepened. "Still... I'll talk to Adi tomorrow. This isn't fair to you. This isn't who you are. Right?"

Priya hesitated, her throat tightening. "Sometimes, we don't know who we are until it's too late."

Ram blinked at her, confused. "Your husband..."

"He's away right now," she said quickly, avoiding his gaze. "Fighting his own battles."

"He's in the army?"

She nodded. "He's a soldier."

"Must be hard, being away from him."

"Pihu misses him," she said, her voice trembling. "So do I."