Her Only Saviour

82. The weight of grief

𝕾𝖚𝖓 𝖗𝖆𝖍𝖎 𝖍𝖔𝖔𝖓 𝖘𝖚𝖉𝖍 𝖇𝖚𝖉𝖍 𝖐𝖍𝖔𝖐𝖊,
𝕶𝖔𝖎 𝖒𝖆𝖎𝖓 𝖐𝖆𝖍𝖆𝖓𝖎

𝕻𝖔𝖔𝖗𝖎 𝖐𝖆𝖍𝖆𝖓𝖎 𝖍𝖆𝖎 𝖐𝖞𝖆,
𝕶𝖎𝖘𝖊 𝖍𝖆𝖎 𝖕𝖆𝖙𝖆

𝕸𝖆𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖔 𝖐𝖎𝖘𝖎𝖐𝖎 𝖍𝖔𝖐𝖊,
𝖄𝖊𝖍 𝖇𝖍𝖎 𝖓𝖆 𝖏𝖆𝖆𝖓𝖎

𝕽𝖚𝖙𝖍 𝖍𝖆𝖎 𝖞𝖊 𝖉𝖔 𝖕𝖆𝖑 𝖐𝖎,
𝖄𝖆 𝖗𝖊𝖍𝖌𝖎 𝖘𝖆𝖉𝖆...

~~~~~~

Five weeks had passed since the darkest day of Nandini’s life.

The hospital room felt quieter today, more hopeful.

The doctor spoke gently, “Nandini, physically you are ready to go home. Your body is healing, and you’re strong enough to leave the hospital.”

Nandini nodded slowly, trying to believe it.

“But,” the doctor added, “emotionally, you’re still fragile. The pain, the grief... it will come in waves. You must not be left alone—not even for a short time.”

Anirudh stood beside her quietly, his hand brushing hers in silent support.

Rajvir and Vishal exchanged glances, their protective instincts on high alert.

Rajvir said firmly, “You won’t be alone. We’ll be there.”

Vishal nodded. “The Oberoi mansion isn’t just a building. It’s a family. And family doesn’t leave you in the dark.”

Anirudh’s voice was calm but unwavering. “I’ll be with her every step of the way.”

Nandini’s eyes searched all three of them—the men who loved her in their own ways—and she whispered, “Thank you.”

Outside the families standing, smiling hopefully.

The thought of returning to the mansion—the place she’d been calling home—was complicated. It held memories of pain and love tangled together.

But it was where she would heal.

And this time, she wouldn’t have to face it alone.

-----

‌Nandini’s steps felt heavy as she crossed the threshold of the Oberoi mansion.

The grand halls were familiar, but today they felt cavernous—full of silence that pressed down on her chest like a weight she couldn’t shake.

She had hoped to find solace here, but instead, the quiet was suffocating.

The brothers and family had already left after seeing her off at the hospital, promising to check in but needing to return to their own lives.

Now, it was just her—and the Oberoi family.

She found them gathered quietly in the sitting room—Anirudh, Dadi, Dadu, Anika, Shivaay, Omkara, Gauri and even Rudra and Saisha—all seated with solemn expressions that carried concern, unspoken questions, and silent prayers.

Anirudh looked up as she entered. His eyes were gentle but tired.

Without a word, she collapsed onto the nearest chair, the tears she had been holding back for weeks spilling over at last.

Her body shook with sobs, the grief she tried so hard to contain crashing through.

Anirudh immediately moved beside her, steadying her with a quiet strength.