Where Have You Been All My Life

Chapter-75

Romi helped him walk to his room, even though he was not that weak; Ishita insisted. This woman! He turned around to see if she is following. She had a chagrinned look on her face, glaring everyone as if they were the one beating him up. Simmi seemed to have had a control over his wife as she grinned and muffled something in her ear, making her red on face. He wished if he could hear them but alas, Romi was too sincere with his job. "Who did this, bhai?" He was worried when he took his nightclothes and pointed him towards the bathroom. Raman let out a scowl; no ways he would tell him. "Should I bathe you, bhai," He grinned. "...or should I call bhabhi?" He added earning a smack from Raman.

When he came out of the washroom, there was a glass of milk on the bedside table, with a note. She was still angry on him it seemed. First drink the milk; he gulped it down and ran his eyes on the paper. Lying down in the bed, he took his mobile still having the paper in his hand. No, why could not she just come and scold him, fight with him or just rape him. Rape him? He groaned. Closing his eyes, he let sleep consume; he was tired, mentally and physically. There was no point in his fight with Ashok; he still could not figure out what possessed him to do that. Maybe because he was already mad or maybe because he knows Ashok was genuinely worried about Ishita. Well, the latter was still maddening him. She does not need the pervert's concern or, love.

When Ishita strolled in her bedroom, relief engulfed her. She missed her room a lot! It felt like she has been away from this room from a long, long time. Breathing relaxed, she closed the door behind. There lied her husband as told, cuddling a pillow. He looked cute in those messy curls and pouted lips that brushed the pillow. His soft snores loudened when she closed in. Her hands were itching to hold him, leave; she wanted to peck him nonstop on his pink face. However, she was a bit too stubborn; she could not endure her own self! Sitting beside, she ran her fingers meekly through his hair. He did not stir but smiled dreamily as if he is dreaming the same.

"What's happened to papa, amma?" Aditya asked when he laid his eyes on his father first time after school. "Is he alright?" He worriedly ran to Raman who woke up feeling his son's soft hand on his cheek. "I'm fine baba," He hugged Aditya lovingly and pecked his cheek. "You sure?" He looked around motioning at an already whimpering Ruhi. She had never seen him this vulnerable; he could not help curse the moment he pounced on Ashok Khanna. "Rooh, papa's fine bachcha..." He smiled as her lips curved up slowly. She rung her hands around Ishita's waist and hid her face. She was scared if she would hurt her father. He looked bruised. "Rooh, don't be scared. You won't hurt him. Papa's strong, right papa?" Ishita threw a glance at Raman who nodded affirmatively at Ruhi.

"Ishita," He called her when she locked the door and walked up to the wardrobe. "...we need to talk." He pressed his head slowly with his fingers as he felt it aching. "What?" She turned around coldly. "You fought with someone, and I don't want to know anything about it, Raman." Her voice shook. "I can't understand you. You fought with someone, like seriously! You were so, so composed before!" She was right. "Even when Subbu came, you were sane enough to deal with it rationally. But now, look at you! What's that big reason which broke your composure?" She creased her eyebrows. "Wait, " Shoving his words those never left his lips, she added. "I don't want to listen to you. I.do.not.want.to.hear.you." She stressed before slamming the bathroom door.

"You don't want to listen right?" He shouted from outside, making her stand still, gritting her anger and agony. She could not contain herself or handle the emotions rushing into her. She wanted to cry out, because she could not see him hurt. She wanted to beat him, he himself got into some mess because of his frustration. She felt guilty, because she felt it was all because of her. Only if she took some lone time to think and make up her mind, rather than leaving him, he would have been under control. He would not have ended up fighting with someone. Or was there any other reason? If she were the reason for his bloody face, she would curse her for leaving him! "I won't talk to you, okay? Okay!" If he asked a question, he should wait for the answer, instead of answering himself; she fumed.