Two Brothers: Shadows of Deception

Chapter 3

Shattered Reflections

(Niharika)

I woke up, my heart racing, drenched in sweat, trapped in the same relentless nightmare that has haunted me for the past two years. No matter how hard I try, I can't seem to break free from the clutches of my painful past. Will I ever find the strength to move on?

I glanced at my phone and saw that it was already a quarter past 6. I dragged myself out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom, desperately needing to wash away the remnants of the nightmare. Splashing cold water on my face, I looked at my reflection in the mirror, trying to convince myself that it was all over. "You're free now, Harika," I whispered, desperately seeking solace in my own reflection.

After a refreshing shower, I wrapped myself in a bathrobe and sat in front of the dressing table, absentmindedly drying my wet hair. That's when my phone rang, and I saw my mother's name flashing on the screen. Unease gripped me as I answered the call, only to be met with a heartbreaking silence. "Mom, are you there? Why are you crying?" I asked, my voice filled with concern.

Amidst sobs, my mother managed to utter the words that shattered my world-my father had suffered a stroke and was admitted to the hospital. I tried my best to comfort her, assuring her that everything would be alright. Without wasting a moment, I changed into a Kurti and pajamas, grabbed my purse, phone, and car keys, and rushed to the hospital.

As I arrived at the hospital, anxiety gnawed at my insides. I was immediately led to the ICU, where I saw my mother and sister sitting on chairs, their faces etched with worry. I knelt down in front of my mother, and as our tear-filled eyes met, I whispered, "They said he's in a coma."

Determined to be strong for my family, I pushed aside my own fears and asked the question that weighed heavy on my heart, "What happened to him? He seemed perfectly fine when we met at his office just three days ago."

My mother's voice trembled as she explained that something had happened at the hotel, leaving my father visibly disturbed in the days leading up to his collapse. He had returned home in a drunken state the previous night, collapsing without even changing his clothes. When my mother went to get him water in the morning, he suddenly collapsed to the ground. We rushed him to the hospital, where we were informed that it was a stroke, a vicious blow to his health that had now left him in a coma.

Summoned to the doctor's office, I sought answers about my father's condition. The doctor explained that they had managed to stabilize him, but recovery from a coma was uncertain and varied greatly from case to case. Comas could last for days, weeks, or even several years. All we could do now was pray and hope for his recovery. The doctor informed us that they planned to shift him to a regular room later in the day.

As I left the doctor's office, the weight of the situation settled heavily on my shoulders. It was already 8 in the morning, and I had taken leave from my position as the General Manager at the Golden Tulip hotel for the past three days, attending therapy sessions with my doctor. Unbeknownst to me, a series of events had unfolded at the hotel during my absence. Determined to find out, I requested my mother and sister to accompany me to my father's room while I headed back to the hotel.

As I drove to the hotel, my mind was filled with questions about the events that had transpired over the past three days. Despite being excellent at my job, many employees believed that I had achieved my position solely because of my father's influence. The truth, however, was that my father had never shown much affection towards me. No matter how hard I tried, I could never win his love or approval. It was always my sister who held his affection. I still couldn't fathom why he treated me with such coldness, especially after my divorce from an abusive husband. His behavior only grew more distant and detached, prompting me to move out of our family house and into my own apartment.

Lost in a whirlwind of thoughts, I stepped out of the elevator, my mind consumed by the demanding tasks and urgent meetings that awaited me. My heart raced, my pulse quickened, as the weight of responsibilities bore down on me. With my phone pressed against my ear, I dialed my father's secretary, urgently requesting his presence in my office. Oblivious to my surroundings, I inadvertently collided with a solid wall, stumbling backward in surprise. If not for the timely intervention of a pair of strong, yet gentle, hands that swiftly grasped my arms, steadying me, I would have surely tumbled to the ground.

Startled, I looked up, my eyes meeting those of a stranger who appeared to be carved from the pages of a romantic novel. His intense black eyes held a captivating allure, drawing me into their depths, and a faint smile played upon his lips. In that fleeting moment, time seemed to stand still, the world around us fading into a blur of insignificance. It was as if fate had orchestrated this encounter, weaving our lives together in a tapestry of unexpected connection.

Heat rose to my cheeks as I realized I had been caught off guard, my thoughts momentarily suspended. The air crackled with an unspoken electricity, an inexplicable pull that seemed to bind us together. His touch lingered on my arms, sending shivers down my spine, and I found myself yearning for more, for the warmth and comfort his presence brought.

Words failed me as I struggled to regain my composure. Emotion swirled within me, a mix of surprise, gratitude, and an unfamiliar yet exhilarating attraction. Finally finding my voice, I managed to murmur an apology, my words laced with a hint of vulnerability. I took a step back, breaking our physical connection, yet the magnetic pull between us remained.

In response, he chuckled softly, a melodic sound that resonated within my being, reaching the deepest corners of my soul. His laughter carried a hint of understanding, as if he recognized the flustered state I found myself in. "You should watch where you're going and maybe try to relax. You look disheveled," he said, his voice laced with a touch of playfulness that sent a delightful tingle down my spine.

His words washed over me like a balm, a gentle reminder to slow down, to embrace the present moment. I nodded, my lips curving into a shy smile, appreciating the unexpected encounter and his effortless ability to put me at ease. "I'm sorry, sir. I wasn't paying attention," I replied softly, my voice filled with a genuine mix of regret and gratitude for his timely assistance.

With a simple shrug, he dismissed the incident, his eyes gleaming with an undeniable warmth. With a graceful step, he entered the awaiting elevator, and the doors began to close, separating us physically but leaving an indelible imprint on my heart. As the sound of the closing elevator reverberated through the corridor, it served as a gentle reminder of the fleeting nature of our encounter, heightening the longing within me.

I scolded myself inwardly for not mustering the courage to say more, to express the depth of my gratitude or the burgeoning feelings that stirred within me. Yet, the brief exchange had ignited a spark, a flame that flickered with the promise of something extraordinary. Little did I know that this unexpected connection, born out of a chance encounter, would become the catalyst for a love story that would forever alter the course of my life.