Hyderabad ~

(Ishita’s POV):

After three hours of travel, we finally reached Hyderabad. To be honest, I had no idea where I would be living after marriage. I had imagined I’d end up in Delhi, far from the place that haunts me. The place I never wanted to return to.

People say childhood memories are the best, but mine were nothing but a curse. Hyderabad, this city holds the scars of my past, where I watched loved ones fall apart, where my childhood was torn to shreds. Even now, when I think of it, only one thing comes to mind: Can such cruelty ever be good for a child who hasn’t even learned how to face the world?

I’m married now, moved on from that situation... but can I ever truly escape these memories?

The world called me a cursed child after my parents’ death. I never argued, because deep down, I admitted it when I was younger. When I was too innocent to understand what I had lost, too naive to grasp the weight of what had happened.

Tears fell onto my saree as those horrifying images flooded my mind. I wiped it away slowly, trying to erase the pain, but the memories clung to me, unrelenting.

I leaned my head against the car’s window, the cold glass pressing against my forehead as I closed my eyes, wishing for the world to disappear, if only for a moment.

Vikrant, absorbed in his laptop, clicked away at the keys as he reviewed his work. He paused to assess the presentation with a nod of approval. “This looks good,” he muttered under his breath. “I think it’ll be perfect for tomorrow’s meeting. Finally the work has been completed and now I have time to work on those important stuff...”

He glanced over at Ishita, noticing that she had fallen asleep.

“She must be really tired,” he murmured softly, concern in his voice.

Gently, he set his laptop aside and, without disturbing her, reached out to pull her closer. He draped his coat over her shoulders and wrapped his arm around her in a protective gesture.

“Sweet dreams, beauty,” he whispered quietly.

Twenty-five minutes later, the car pulled to a stop.

The servant outside opened the door, greeting them with a polite, “Good evening, Sir.”

The sound of the door opening stirred Ishita from her sleep. As she moved, she felt her hair caught in Vikrant’s chest button. She tried to free it, but couldn’t. The servant, seeing them in this tender moment, respectfully stepped aside to give them space.

Another servant, noticing the situation, whispered to that servant, “You need to be careful now. The boss isn’t single anymore.”

Vikrant, noticing Ishita’s struggle, gave a brief, cold glance at her before swiftly tearing the button off his shirt with a motion that lacked any hint of tenderness.

“Better now?” His tone was flat.

Ishita looked up at him, giving a small nod, but her mind was filled with uncertainty. Is he upset with me? Did I do something wrong? She couldn’t understand why he had torn the button off. He could’ve just opened it.

What was the point of breaking the button?

Vikrant got out of the car first, then Ishita followed, carefully adjusting herself and her saree. Though it was a bit awkward, she managed to keep her composure. Together, they walked towards the villa, side by side.

As they reached the entrance, the door opened to reveal several servants. Some held flower plates, while another carried an aarti thali. A rice kalash, symbolizing prosperity, was carefully placed at the doorstep as a warm welcome.

Vikrant, his voice icy, turned to the servants. “Yeh sab kya hai? Pata hai na ki mujhe yeh sab pasand nahi hai?”

(“What is all this? Don't you know I don’t like this kind of things.”)

One of the servants, gathering some courage, spoke up hesitantly, “Malik, vo badi malikin ne kaha tha ki bahu rani ko aise andar nahi aane de sakte. Rasme zaroori hain ek rishte ke liye, isliye...”

(“Sir, the elder mistress had mentioned that the daughter-in-law shouldn’t enter like this. Rituals are important, especially for establishing a relationship, so...”)

Vikrant’s expression remained unreadable as with a cold voice he said, “Thik hai.”

("Alright")

Ishita, silently following the unspoken orders, pushed the kalash aside. After the ritual was completed, she and Vikrant walked straight to their room.

Once inside, Vikrant spoke again, his tone still distant but laced with concern, “Fresh ho jao aur thoda rest kar lo. Tum kafi thaki hui lag rahi ho.”

(“Go freshen up and rest a little. You look really tired.”)

Ishita gave a quiet nod and headed to the bathroom.

After 30 minutes...

Ishita emerged from the bathroom, her body wrapped in a towel, droplets of water still glistening in her hair. The warmth of the hot water had soothed her muscles, but her mind remained clouded, weary from everything.

Vikrant, who had been engrossed in a book, was distracted when she entered. His eyes flicked toward her for a moment, and then, as she caught his gaze, he quickly returned to his book, regaining his composure.

“The clothes are in the cupboard,” he said, his voice matter-of-fact and cold as ever. “You seem to be uncomfortable in a saree, and you told me you have trouble wearing it, so I brought new clothes, something more comfortable.”

Ishita opened the cupboard, revealing an array of colorful, branded clothes neatly arranged. She picked something soft and comfortable, feeling a small relief as she chose a simple outfit. Vikrant, with a brief glance, went into the bathroom.

After changing, exhausted from the day, Ishita climbed into bed. She was far too tired to think about anything else, and the weariness of her body soon pulled her into a deep sleep.

After some time, Vikrant emerged from the bathroom, his body wrapped in a towel that barely covered his waist. Water dripped from his damp hair as he ran his hand through it, pushing the wet strands back. His chest and arms were marked with the faint blue veins of someone who had been working out regularly, a sharp contrast to the softness of his skin. His gaze shifted briefly toward Ishita, who was already fast asleep, her deep, peaceful slumber punctuated by soft snoring.

Vikrant’s expression softened for a split second before he gently tucked the blankets around her, making sure she was comfortable. Then, without a word, he turned and went to dress.

Three minutes later...

Vikrant, now fully dressed, walked into his study. A room few were allowed to enter. It was his private sanctuary, a place where secrets were kept behind closed doors. His mind was sharp as he scanned through various documents, but soon, his thoughts drifted away from the paperwork. Something important lingered at the edge of his mind.

He stood abruptly, walking towards the window. With a swift motion, he pulled the curtains shut and locked the window, as if to block out the world completely.

Without wasting any time, he picked up the phone and called his assistant.

“Arun,” Vikrant said, his tone clipped.

“Good evening, sir,” Arun replied, his voice professional and slightly hesitant.

Vikrant didn’t answer immediately, his eyes still scanning through the documents on his desk. Then, after a pause, he asked, “What about the report of the medicine?”

Arun hesitated before responding, “Sir, the report came in, just as you instructed. No one else knows about it. I’ve kept it confidential, and no one has opened the document except me. I was planning to give it to you tomorrow.”

Vikrant’s fingers drummed lightly on the desk as he absorbed the information. “So, tell me, is my suspicion correct?” he asked, his voice cold.

“Yes, sir,” Arun confirmed. “You were right. They are depression medications. These are typically prescribed to people dealing with past trauma, loneliness, or severe depression.”

Vikrant’s expression remained unchanged as he processed the news. “Hmm... Okay.” He paused for a moment before speaking again, his voice firm. “One more thing. I need Ishita’s past medical records. Every single detail of her past. Where she went to school, everything, whatever you can find.”

Without waiting for a reply, he ended the call abruptly. He sat back in his chair, the weight of his thoughts settling heavily on his mind.

Vikrant’s Thoughts ~

He exhaled deeply, his gaze locked on the empty glass in front of him. His mind was racing, and he couldn’t silence the questions that had been gnawing at him.

“I don’t know, Ishita... what happened to you in the past, but I will find out. Every single thing.”

With a swift motion, he poured wine into his glass, the deep red liquid swirling in the crystal like his swirling thoughts.

“I asked you once what happened, but you never told me. I really want to know. Why do you start shivering when I touch you? Why do you resist when I come near? Why do you cry over the smallest things?” He paused, his eyes narrowing as the memory of her reactions replayed in his mind. “For a while, I thought maybe you just weren’t ready, but what about the medicines?”

He finished pouring the wine, raising the glass to his lips before he continued his monologue, the words slipping out like they had been waiting on the tip of his tongue.

“You looked so sad that day. I took you out, gave you the chance to open up, to tell me something, but you just... kept hiding. Always hiding something.” He took another long drink, his fingers tightening around the glass, as if gripping for answers that wouldn’t come.

He sighed, a mix of frustration and confusion clouding his mind.

“This girl... she’s driving me crazy.” Vikrant muttered to himself, rubbing his temple as the thought lingered. “I’ve never cared this much about uncovering someone’s past. Not like this, not for anyone... But for you, Ishita... it’s different.” His voice dropped lower, his frustration evident. “I don’t know how many secrets you’re keeping, how many secret you’ve buried deep inside you, but I will dig through every layer until I uncover every truth”

He drank again, the rich, bitter taste filling his mouth as he allowed himself to drown out his own thoughts, even if only for a moment.

At 11 p.m. ~

Ishita woke up suddenly, her heart racing from the remnants of a bad dream.

"Aaahh... this dream again, hellish!!!"

She turned to her side, but Vikrant’s spot was empty. Confused, she sat up and glanced around the room, her eyes scanning the dim light.

Worried, she slipped out of bed and walked into the hallway, her footsteps soft against the cold floor. She searched through the house, checking every room, but Vikrant was nowhere to be found. Her anxiety grew until she reached the end of the corridor and noticed a room. It's handle different from the rest of the rooms.

Her curiosity piqued, she reached for the handle, twisting it and quietly pushing the door open.

Inside, she found Vikrant, sleeping in a chair. Two bottles of imported wine sat on the table beside him, their labels glowing in the low light. On the wall hung a large, intricate painting. A little girl’s hand holding a delicate blue lotus, the petals shimmering with water droplets. The face wasn’t drawn, just the hand and the flower. The painting, though simple, felt strangely captivating.

"Hmm... blue lotus. My favourite flower..."

Then with a simile, "It looks wholesome!!"

Then she stepped inside, her movements quiet. She walked toward Vikrant, gently placing her hand on his shoulder to wake him. But he didn’t stir. She tried again, her touch a little firmer this time, but still, no response.

Frustrated, she pinched his cheek, a little tighter.

“Ahh…” Vikrant groaned, rubbing his eyes as he woke, clearly disoriented. “Ishita, what are you doing?”

He sat up slowly, blinking at her as he tried to adjust to the dim light in the room.

Ishita looked deeply into Vikrant’s eyes, her gaze soft yet intense, silently conveying her concern and care. Her eyes held a thousand unspoken thoughts, speaking volumes without a single word.

After a moment, she gently gestured for him to eat, then mimed washing her face, clearly telling him to freshen up first. Her silent commands were gentle yet firm, guiding him to take a moment for himself before they sat down together. It was as if she wanted him to clear his mind, face and feel a little lighter before the two of them shared the meal.

While Eating...

Ishita held up her phone, showing him a message with a raised eyebrow. The words were clear.

“So, you drink?”

Vikrant glanced at the phone before responding casually, “Hmm… sometimes.”

Ishita’s eyes narrowed slightly as she held the phone up again, showing a new message: “Drinking is not good. Don’t drink again.”

Vikrant met her gaze briefly before replying with a smirk, “I know. And eating random medicines isn’t good for your health either.”

Ishita didn’t respond, her expression remaining neutral. She placed the phone on the table and took another bite, her fingers lightly tapping on her glass, signaling her disapproval.

Vikrant, sensing her quiet frustration, leaned forward and asked, “What kind of medicine is that?”

Ishita reached for her phone and typed out a quick message, showing it to him.

“Just painkillers.”

Vikrant smirked again, though he didn’t let his expression show. “Painkillers,” he repeated, his voice now deep and intense. “Where do you feel pain? Every day?”

Ishita picked up her phone once more and typed quickly, then held it up for him to read, “Head and sometimes stomach.”

Vikrant asked, “Oh, so you get pain in your stomach and head every day?”

Ishita coughed lightly and shook her head “no.”

Showing her phone, typed, “When it happens, I eat.”

Vikrant didn’t continue further.

Once the meal ended, they moved silently toward the bedroom. Exhausted, Ishita climbed into bed, her body tense.

Vikrant’s hand found her waist, pulling her closer. His touch was cold, mechanical. No warmth, no comfort. She stiffened, resisting the closeness, her body aching to create distance.

He wrapped his arm around her, but it felt like an obligation rather than affection. The silence between them hung heavy, unspoken words suffocating the air.

He was somewhat upset with her because she had been keeping things from him.

As sleep slowly claimed them, Ishita lay in his arms, the weight of their unspoken distance heavier than the silence around them.

Naina.writz ~