"Happy Married Life, Shivya Pathak" I weakly smiled seeing my condition, mangalsutra dangling in my neck, vermilion in hair and both hands filled with gold bangles.
"Come out quickly or do you want me to break the gate," my husband knocked again...
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I wanted to breathe. God, I was breathing-I could feel my lungs moving, chest rising, falling-but it didn't feel like enough. Each inhale scraped against my throat, each exhale left me emptier than before.
I was alive, my body stubbornly proving it with the rapid drumbeat of my heart, but I wasn't living. The thudding in my chest was too loud, a constant reminder that I was unraveling.
I poured myself a glass of water, filled it to the brim with icy cold liquid, and swallowed it in one go. It slid down harshly, leaving behind a burn that only grew worse the longer I stood there. My hand dragged over my face, desperate to scrub away the uneasiness that had clung to me ever since I had spoken to Ahana.
It had been a mistake. I should never have called her. I had thought about it for two days, rehearsed every word I might say, and when she didn't pick up, I should've taken it as my warning.
But no-I had answered when she called back. Fool that I was. And now here I was, hours later, still carrying the ache of it.
Five hours. That's how long it had been since our conversation, and not once had I felt lighter. I thought maybe food would help, that once dinner was over the hollow pit in my stomach would settle. But no. If anything, it had worsened.
Everyone had noticed it too. One by one, eyes at the dining table had flicked toward me-Mummy ji, Papa, even Dadi with the same concerned questions: "Are you okay, Shivya?" "You look pale."
Only Vedant had said nothing. He hadn't asked if I was fine, hadn't once mentioned that something seemed wrong. And strangely enough... I was grateful. Or at least, that's what I kept telling myself.
I should be grateful, shouldn't I? His silence meant I didn't have to lie, didn't have to dodge questions I couldn't answer. Definitely, I was grateful. Or so I repeated like a mantra.
I turned when I heard footsteps approaching, the faint, deliberate sound echoing through the quiet kitchen.
Vedant walked inside, his broad frame filling the doorway for a moment before his eyes swept the room. His gaze moved everywhere but me, as if he were searching for something-or someone.
"Are you finding someone?" The words left my mouth before I could stop them, my voice pulling his attention toward me.
He paused right in front of me, then glanced behind himself, as if to double-check the empty room. Finally, he said, "Yes."
My brows pulled together. "Kis ko?"
His lips curved-not quite a smile, but something wry "Aapko."
"Hein?" I blinked at him, my brain sluggish, stuck on autopilot as I didn't hear clearly I guess.
"I needed a cup of tea, so I was just finding someone-" I interrupted, incredulous. "You were finding someone to prepare tea for you?"
His answer came calm, flat, but there was a weight to it that made my chest tighten. "I was finding someone to have tea with me." He added after a beat, quieter, "I don't like having it alone."
