Disappointment ~

The Next Day ~

When I woke, the first thing I felt was warmth… and the weight of arms wrapped firmly around my waist.

Vikrant ji...

His grip wasn’t harsh, just strong enough to keep me pulled tightly against him. My back rested against his chest, and I could feel the steady rise and fall of his breath. Our faces were only inches apart, close enough that I could feel the faint brush of his exhale against my cheek.

For a moment, I didn’t move.

For a moment, I simply watched him.

He looked different in sleep. He looked calmer, less guarded, almost human. The sharp edges of his personality softened into something I couldn’t quite name.

Carefully, I lifted his hand from my waist, trying not to wake him. His fingers twitched slightly, as if unwilling to let go. My heart jumped, but I forced myself to slip away.

One foot touched the cold floor first. Then, slowly, I stood, steadying myself when a faint shiver ran up my spine.

I turned towards the clock on the wall.

It's 5:00 a.m.

Too early…

Too quiet…

Too heavy with everything unsaid.

“Pata nahi aage kya hoga…” I whispered to myself.

(“I don’t know what’s going to happen next…”)

“Na jaane kyun Mummy ji ne Vikrant ji ko nahi bataya ki main…”

(“Why didn’t Mummy ji tell Vikrant ji that I…”)

A shaky breath escaped my lip.

“…ki main bol nahi sakti.”

(“…that I’m mute.”)

Tears blurred my vision. I looked at Vikrant ji’s sleeping form, my heart twisting painfully.

“Main wapas Chachi ke paas nahi jana chahti…” the words trembled in my mind.

(“I don’t want to go back to Chachi…”)

“Bhale hi ye thode rude ho, lekin mere liye fikar to karte hain. Kam se kam mujhe insaan to samajhte hain.”

(“He is little rude, but at least he cares. At least he treats me like a human.”)

“Main wapas us jagah nahi jana chahti jahan insaanon ko janwaron se battar treat kiya jata hai.”

(“I don’t want to return to that place where people are treated worse than animals.”)

With that, I wiped my tears with trembling fingers and walked into the bathroom, closing the door softly behind me.

On the other hand, Vikrant wasn’t asleep. As the bathroom door clicked shut, he opened his eyes and stood up. He walked out onto the balcony of his room, pulled his phone from his pocket, and called his assistant.

“Good morning, sir!!” Arun greeted.

“Hmm… tickets booked?” Vikrant replied, and then asked his voice calm but sharp.

“Yes, sir. Today at 4 p.m. is your flight,” Arun said in calm voice.

“Alright.”

Vikrant ended the call and slipped the phone back into his pocket.

His eyes fell on the crushed paper he was still holding. He smoothed it out carefully, folded it neatly this time, and tucked it into his pocket. Without another word, he stepped off the balcony to go jogging, his movements precise and controlled.

I splashed the running water on my face, letting my tears mix with it. I filled the bathtub with warm water and sank into it, trying to calm myself and prepare for whatever lay ahead.

After an hour~

I wrapped myself in a towel and stepped out of the bathroom. Vikrant ji wasn’t there, and I wondered where he could have gone so early. Confused, I opened the wardrobe and pulled out my navy blue saree. It was one of my most beautiful sarees - silky fabric with a designer blouse, elegant and intricate, the kind that made me feel graceful and poised.

I laid it carefully on the bed and removed the towel from my hair, drying it slowly. I loved sarees, but wearing one wasn’t my habit, so it took me quite some time to drape it perfectly.

Truly, I don’t know how to wear a saree...

As I removed my towel to put on my bra, someone suddenly opened the door. Startled, I quickly wrapped the towel around myself and, without thinking, threw the bra at the intruder. It was a winter morning, the sun had risen late, and the room was still dim. I preferred not to change in the light, so I closed the curtains and turned off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into near darkness.

In the shadows, I couldn’t see who the person was, and my heart raced with panic.

Vikrant returned home after his morning run. In the living room, he noticed his father sitting on the sofa, sipping tea. Vikrant approached, touched his feet, and greeted him, “Good morning, Papa.”

Yashvardhan ji looked up, a hint of concern in his eyes. “Good morning, beta. What time did you get home last night?”

“2 a.m.,” Vikrant replied coolly.

Yashvardhan ji shook his head slightly. “Your mother was upset.”

Vikrant’s expression remained indifferent.

“Hmm….”

Yashvardhan ji leaned back, giving him a measured look.

“Listen… give Ishita some time. If you keep being like this, there could be trouble in your relationship.”

Vikrant simply nodded and turned away, walking calmly towards his mother’s room. He knocked lightly at the door.

Saraswati ji opened it, her face softening as she saw him. Vikrant touched her feet.

“Good morning, Ma.”

“Good morning, beta! So early? What happened? Do you want anything?”

“Hmm… yes, Ma. I need to talk about something.”

Saraswati ji smiled gently and said,

“Okay, come inside.”

Vikrant entered and sat on the edge of the bed. Saraswati ji settled beside him, her expression careful, reading the seriousness in his eyes.

She spoke softly, “Hmm… batao, aisi kaunsi baat hai jo mere bete ko itni subah-subah mere room tak le aayi?”

(“Hmm… tell me, what is it that brought my son to my room so early in the morning?”)

Vikrant’s gaze was sharp, unblinking. “Ma… you know Ishita can’t speak, don’t you?”

Saraswati ji’s face paled, the morning calm draining from her expression. “Hmmm… mujhe pata hai.”

(“Hmm… yes, I know.”)

Vikrant’s tone remained icy, measured. “Ma… why did you hide something so important from me? Why?”

Saraswati ji started, “Beta… main tumhe batane hi wali thi.....”

(“Beta… I was going to tell you....”)

Vikrant cut her off, his voice sharp and controlled.

Aap mujhe batane wali thi, kitne mahino se? Aapne apne hi bete se sach chhupaya.

(“You were going to tell me, for how many months? You hid the truth from your own son.”)

Saraswati ji’s voice trembled, but she gathered courage. “Beta, meri baat suno…”

(“Beta, please… listen to me...”)

Vikrant’s eyes darkened, voice sharp, “Ab sunne ko bacha hi kya, Ma?”

(“Is there even anything left to hear, Ma?”)

Saraswati ji said firmly, “Vikrant, first listen to me. After the marriage was fixed, did you even talk to Ishita once? And when I tried to discuss the wedding, you would either cut the call or leave. Now tell me, how was I supposed to tell you? The truth is, Vikrant… you see nothing beyond your work.”

Vikrant, “Ma, aap chaahti to kabhi bhi bata sakti thi, lekin aapne nahi bataya kyunki aapko laga ki main aapki baat nahi maanunga, Ishita se shaadi nahi karunga, hai na? Aur sach ye hai ki aap apni boli hui baaton aur wado se zyada kisi ko nahi maanti.”

(“You could have told me anytime, but you didn’t because you thought I wouldn’t listen, that I wouldn’t marry Ishita, right? The truth is, you don’t believe anyone more than your own words and promises.”)

Saraswati ji, “But...beta...”

Vikrant, “Ma, I don’t want to discuss this anymore. I’ve said what I needed to, and now I’m leaving.”

Then he left his mother’s room and walked towards his own, his mind still replaying their conversation. Absentmindedly, he pushed the door open.

The room was completely dark.

Not a single light was on.

Before he could do anything, something soft hit his head and fell into his shoulder. It felt like a piece of cloth - light, delicate.

Frowning, he reached for the switch near the door and turned on the lights.

And froze.

He was holding a bra.

And in front of him, just a few feet away stood Ishita, her entire body wrapped in a towel, her eyes wide with fear and innocence. Wet hair clung to her shoulders, and her trembling fingers gripped the towel tightly.

For a moment, Vikrant couldn’t speak. His lips parted, but no words came out.

Heat rushed to his face.

Without saying a single word, he quickly stepped out of the room and shut the door behind him.

He exhaled sharply, looking down at his hand.

The bra was still there.

Realizing this, he winced, opened the door again this time keeping his eyes tightly shut and extended his hand awkwardly to return it.

Ishita snatched it from him, her movements quick and flustered.

He immediately pulled the door shut again, leaning against it for a second, mortified and breathless.

He stood outside and waited patiently.

After 20 minutes ~

Vikrant finally gathered the courage to knock on the door.

“Ishita… ho gaya?” he asked, voice steady but careful. “Agar ho gaya ho toh darwaza khol do.”

(“Ishita… are you done? If you’re finished, open the door.”)

The door opened just an inch, barely enough for him to see her face.

Ishita peeked out, eyes wide and hesitant. She shook her head softly, signaling no, her expression innocent and flustered.

Still hiding behind the door. Still refusing to step out.

For a second, Vikrant blinked.

Her damp hair framed her face, cheeks tinted pink with embarrassment. She looked like a startled fawn trying to hide but failing miserably.

He cleared his throat lightly, trying to act unaffected.

“Alright…” he said, voice low. “Jab ho jaaye, bata dena.”

(“Let me know when you’re ready.”)

She nodded quickly, then closed the door again, almost too fast.

Vikrant stared at the closed door for a moment, exhaling deeply.

He had never been this… unsettled.

After 10 minutes ~

Vikrant, exhausted from waiting outside, let out a frustrated sigh. His clothes, still damp from the sweat of his run, had become increasingly uncomfortable, itching with every passing moment. And on top of that, he was getting late. His frustration made him stand stiffly at the door.

Ishita’s POV

I don’t know why I can’t wear this saree properly. It keeps coming undone, over and over again.

Wearing a saree is a nightmare. And the worst part? I didn’t even bring any suits, because of the wedding in Delhi.

I wore it yesterday too, and it was the same issue - kept coming undone. Ugh, so frustrating!

I don’t think I can manage this on my own. I need help. But who can I turn to? My mother-in-law? Or the servant again? They’ll probably think that if I can’t even wear a saree properly, how will I handle the responsibilities of this house?

Vikrant’s POV ~

I can’t wait any longer. I’m getting late.

Then, he knocked on the door again.

Ishita opened it slightly, looking defeated.

Vikrant, reading her expression, “What happened? What’s wrong?”

Ishita showed him her phone.

“I can’t wear the saree.”

Vikrant, confused, “What? But you wore it yesterday?”

Ishita showed her phone again, “Yeah, I took help from a servant.”

Vikrant, “Okay, wait. Let me send someone to help you.”

He quickly sent a servant into her room, who helped Ishita wear the saree properly, since he himself didn’t know how to help her. Finally, she was ready and stepped out of the room.

Vikrant was completely captivated by her beauty. She looked like an angel to him, and he just stood there, staring.

“Ab inhe late nahi ho raha, waise toh bar bar pooch rahe the ke main ready ho gayi ya nahi,” she fumed inwardly.

(“He’s not getting late now. When I was in the room, he kept asking again and again whether I was ready, and look at him now.”)

It was only when Ishita looked at him with her big, dark eyes that Vikrant regained his senses. He stepped into the room, with a careful grace that didn’t quite hide his nerves.

After some time ~

Everyone sat down for lunch, but Vikrant left without eating anything.

Unbeknownst to him, by skipping his meal, he had unknowingly left someone else to go hungry for the entire day.

(You know who.)

Naina.writz ~

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