Her Only Saviour

62. Frozen between the past

𝕸𝖆𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖆 𝖇𝖆𝖓 𝖌𝖆𝖞𝖆 𝖍𝖔𝖔𝖓
𝕶𝖆𝖇 𝖘𝖊 𝖒𝖆𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖆…

𝕸𝖆𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖆 𝖇𝖆𝖓 𝖌𝖆𝖞𝖆 𝖍𝖔𝖔𝖓
𝕶𝖆𝖇 𝖘𝖊 𝖒𝖆𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖆…

𝕸𝖚𝖏𝖍 𝖐𝖔 𝖎𝖗𝖆𝖆𝖉𝖊
𝕿𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖑𝖆𝖌𝖙𝖊 𝖍𝖆𝖎𝖓

𝕮𝖍𝖊𝖍𝖗𝖊 𝖘𝖊 𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖊
𝕹𝖆 𝖏𝖆𝖆𝖙𝖊 𝖍𝖆𝖎𝖓....

~~~~~~~~~

The walls of her mother’s house didn’t creak like they used to.

Maybe they were tired too.

Nandini sat by the open window, knees pulled up to her chest, staring at the overgrown garden that hadn’t seen love in years. Her forehead glistened with a sheen of sweat.
The evening sun didn’t burn—but her skin felt like it was on fire.

Her hand lay flat over her abdomen.

She wasn’t imagining it anymore.

The nausea, the headaches, the soul-deep fatigue.

The child was real.

Growing quietly. Demanding silently.

Just like her—uninvited into a world that never made space.

Her back ached again.

She shifted, grimacing. The marble floor of her childhood room was no longer forgiving.
Neither was her body. She had barely eaten today.
Forced a few bites of dry toast before everything turned metallic in her mouth.

The vomit came hours later—just water this time. Violent. Empty. Like her body was purging emotion instead of food.

She didn’t cry.

Not when she held the test.

Not when the doctor confirmed it in that sterile clinic three towns away.

Not even now, sitting in the home her mother once protected her in.

But her silence… it was louder than screams.

The room still held her mother’s scent. Mild jasmine and old sandalwood. Her mother would’ve known what to do. She would’ve cupped Nandini’s face in those warm, calloused hands and whispered that it would be okay.

Only now, Nandini wasn’t sure what “okay” even meant.

She glanced at the framed photo on the side table. Her mother, smiling wide. Eyes soft. Arms wrapped around a much younger Nandini, who didn’t yet know what it meant to break.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I wasn’t supposed to end up here. Not like this.”

The breeze swept through the room, brushing her hair across her face.

She didn’t move.

Didn’t fix it.

Just sat there… heavy with grief, guilt, and the growing heartbeat inside her.

A heartbeat she hadn’t told anyone about.

Especially not him.

She didn’t know if Anirudh even deserved to know.

But she did know one thing—

This child deserved better than a mother fighting shadows alone.

And yet, she stayed seated.