Author's Note: This is my only unedited book; the style of writing is thus different from what you might have seen in my other books. Compared to them, this book also has much more grammatical mistakes. Hope you enjoy it nevertheless.
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I don't really know how psychiatrist ask their questions. I have never been to one either.So, whatever I'm writing here, may or may not reflect how they ask their questions to prob into emotions. I wrote it according to my general knowledge. Please take it as fiction only.
And those who feel they are too sensitive to self harm or things related to that, I advise you not to read.
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Akash exhaled almost with a shudder, looking at Arnav's bedroom door. Besides him stood a lady in her early fourties, sighing as his eyes teared up.
"I think I can manage from now on, Mr. Raizada. Thank you very much." She said, taking pity at the pained man besides her. Dealing with many such families, she knows, or at least have an idea of how it feels, by now.
Akash moved his head in a slight nod.
"Tha-Thank you Mrs. Verma!" He muttered, giving the door a slight push for her to enter.
"As I said before, call me Nandini!" Mrs. Nandini Verma smiled, walking inside the room.
She closed the door behind her, wandering her gaze around the tidy room. The scene here contradicted what Dr. Malhotra had narrated her and she sighed, trying to locate the person for whom she was sent here, the one who have learned to live again, with the support of something non-present.
"Who are you?"
She jumped, almost stumbling against the recliner as the sharp and loud voice boomed in the gloomy room.
"Ohh..Mr..Mr. Raizada..!" She breathed out, chuckling in relief but her smile was reciprocated with a scorn.
She cleared her throat, straightening her posture.
"I'm Nandini, Nandini Verma. A journalist, I actually came for your interview." She lied through her teeth, forwarding her hand, careful not to agitate him by revealing her real identity and purpose. She has learned better from her experiences.
Arnav stared at her, his face impassive.
"I thought every journalist had the courtesy to first inform the person in question before they crash into their room for an interview." He said after a second of silence, his eyes sternly set on her face, sarcasm lacing from his voice.
Nandini withdrew her outstretched hand, bringing it up to scratch the back of her head as she chuckled nervously.
"I-I tried contacting you but couldn't. So I called your brother. He refused but I needed this interview..to.. to save my job. So he asked me to come here and ask you in person." She said slowly, ignoring how ridiculous she was sounding at the moment as she knew he was not in a state to decipher what's logical and what's illogical. She took some time as she spoke to study his posture. Her eyes wandered on his bandages, which were unharmed. His skin was free from any trace of blood or untreated wound.
