Here's part 2!

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That stupid girl.

Her eyes were just beginning to scroll open when Manik's lungs filled with air again. Finally. "You're such a fool, seriously," He spat, taking a seat beside her bed and sipping on his fourth caffinated beverage in the last 24 hours.

She was still registering his presence and recovering from the anaesthetic effect but Manik had so much pent up, he couldn't hold himself back. "Iss baar toh sirf skull pe ek crack sa aaya tha you know, aur ek do haddiyaan toot gayi thi. Very average performance I must say. Next time na, I would recommend ki aur upar se jump maaro, maybe fifth ya sixth floor for the results you want to achieve,"

His voice alone felt like salve on her wounds, his words however mocking her.

She did not know how long she was out like a light for. Had it been days, or weeks? She lazily scanned his scanty appearance, his forehead still faintly red from the ceremonies. Oh, wedding.

Her eyes fixated on his hands, there was nothing on his right, but she couldn't see his left hand. He had probably purposefully hid it from her. She stretched her able but bandaged hand in his direction.

"Nahi, you're not supposed to be having coffee, most of all not mine," What was he saying? She wondered. She wanted to hold him, not have his coffee!

Meanwhile, he had been doing everything he possibly could to blur those 24 hours from his memory completely. He had almost lost her... and the fear of it was still dangling around him like an IV tube: in front of his face and essential for his existence. Trying to make conversation with her was his pathetic attempt to assure himself that she was alive and well.

He turned his back to her, so she still couldn't see his ring. Why was he not showing it to her? She wanted to move over, hassle him, play tug of war with his bitter-as-hell black coffee, and pour the hot thing all over his head until he jumped up and fought back for wasting his drink. But as of then, she was strapped to the bed with glucose in her arm, and yet very drained.

She tugged on the sea-green garment covering her. How had they gotten her into this? And who had? "Chee chee, I'm your brother-in-law now, how can you think such things of me, Nandini? That's disgusting." He touched his chest dramatically, visibly ghastly.

She tried to call the drama king with her hand, but it wasn't budging at all. "Ma... Mah–" She breathed into the respirator, and her vitals on the graph monitor slowly rose to life.

"Mujhe na actually pehle din se pata tha! With your clumsiness, first floor pe room dena hi nahi chahiye tha tumko. It was dangerous, I told Anjali." Tumko. Not tu. Nandini closed her eyes as a hot tear escaped.

She heard the door creak open and slam shut.

He had left her.

Voices that subsequently filled the room had rung in her ears, but she was finding it hard to focus on who it was from.

And then she had fallen asleep again.

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Five weeks later...

Nandini's eyes fluttered open. She was no longer wearing the respirator.

Manik was pacing around the room, chattering about something.

On seeing her awake, he had taken a seat beside her, "Haan earlier you fell asleep while I was talking... toh main kya bol raha tha, there is this really good book about how poisons work actually–so Agatha Christie the mystery writer... arre tumko toh pata hi hoga... she actually kills a lot of her characters with poisons only. Toh maine tumhare liye woh book laaya tha, who knows it might inspire you to consider another strategy,"

"Manik, I–" Catching up to herself and her almost confession, her eyes widened. Manik was nonchalant and chill about it, like the college boy she had fallen for.

No, he could not know.

"Where are my parents?"

"They've actually disowned you, unfortunately. After the stunt you pulled, they were quite disappointed ki your attempt was so unsuccessful," He said sympathetically.

She chuckled, and her head throbbed from the smile. Gentle pressure on her temple eased the ache, until Manik came around her. Then those pains seemed to magically disappear in his presence. Henceforth, she would refrain from taking extra tablets and would instead carry around her walking tablet to heal herself.

He cradled her neck, and gently shuffled a pillow at her nape, keeping that part of her body raised above her heart. That was one simple way to reduce the swelling on her injury. Once again, after many moons, his scent had drawn her into a world where only Manik and Nandini existed and she yearningly gazed into his eyes.

As if realising what she had done, Manik had uncomfortably moved away. He had said he was her brother-in-law, the wedding must have already taken place. For how long had she been laying in this bed?

Her heart began racing, as she ransacked and replayed that conversation he had with her... unsure if she was hallucinating or not. His wedding ring.

She looked at his retreating figure, his hands now stuffed in his pockets. She cursed her stars for keeping her alive despite all her marvellous efforts to take her life instead of seeing the love of her life married to her sister. What kind of a sick game of fate had this become? Those changing relationships she had not prepared for. Feeling nauseous and utterly helpless about the situation she was in, she began crying again.

Throughout the five years of 'maintaining' their friendship, she had somehow kept her feelings at bay. The sweet bond they shared died overnight, as Manik cut off any contact except simple pleasantries around their friends. He did not go out of the way to be rude to her, but he had also ceased to hang out anywhere if it was just him and her.

Then after college, they lived in different cities–him in Delhi for work, and she had returned home to Mumbai with no future plans lined up for herself. She heard about his life updates through their mutual friends, and had felt genuinely happy that he was no longer focused on her in the way that she was.

Then a proposal came for her sister, who had already spoken twice or thrice on call with him before seeing his photograph. Purely arranged by parents, the first meeting was just between the families. His parents had wanted a girl from Mumbai itself who knew good hospitality and treated others with respect. Anjali as a bonus had also dreams of establishing a fashion boutique, which aligned with Manik's father company–Manish Malhotra Fashion House.

Nandini had learned of the alliance a month before the engagement was scheduled. And by then, Anjali had already begun harbouring hopes of marrying him.

How unfair would it be if she broke her sister's heart, but could not commit to him herself–especially after he had completely moved on and gone bride-hunting?

Shelving her own feelings, she helped her sister plan her engagement and vouched for his character. She thought she had given herself enough time to recover, but everything snowballed so fast. Even before the engagement had gone ahead, she had heard was that the marriage had been fixed for three weeks from the engagement.

On the day of their scheduled engagement, Nandini had staggered into the groom's green room and asked for a moment's time with him alone. Her heart and lungs feeling heavy and sore seeing him dressed up like that for someone else.

Mentally preparing herself to face the worst, she began speaking. But what she had done at that moment was tell him how much she had missed his friendship and his presence and that she wished the best for him in his future. He had shed a few tears too, probably missing that friendship himself.

And despite an attempt at mending a long-lost bond, her heart had broken again: I am stronger than this, she had thought. But nothing could prepare her for the brutal fact—the Manik Malhotra she loved was soon going to be her sister's man.

She ran to her room and sobbed on her knees until she couldn't feel the pain any longer.

The way her life was playing out though, at that juncture she was transferring all her rights on him to her sister. It was so fucked up, and before she realised, she had mindlessly jumped.         

"Manik, are you married?" She gasped, reeling from those memories that felt so fresh and raw—like the whole thing had only happened yesterday.

"I already told you, Nandini," He said, barely turning so as to not entertain any of her illicit feelings for him.

"Where is my sister?"

"She's at my house,"

It felt like a punch to her gut. "Ask her to come here, I want to see her," She cried, her headache returning.

"It won't be very professional of me to bring my wife to my workplace Nandini,"

"Stop calling her that,"

"But she is,"

"Shut up!"

"Why Nandini? Is it hurting?" He scanned her injuries superficially. If only she could show him how lacerating his words were on her heart, mind, and soul.

Channeling a fierce conviction from somewhere underneath the soul-crushing oblivion she was drowning in, she cried, "I thought you loved me,"

His expressions changed. "But you didn't, right?" He bit the last part, controlling every bit of his frustration. Then he cleared his throat before gently asking, "You said na, you don't care who I date?"

"Haan toh..."

"But eventually you did na? Laga na tumhe bura?" His voice was the same calming soothing one she had grown fond of and comfortable around. But the words he was using, to identify her and him in his dialogue had reflected how distant they had grown over time. Tumhe.

She blinked, "Stop speaking to me in Hindi,"

He repeated, "Tumhe bura laga, issliye tum aayi thi mere roka se pehle mujhse baat karne,"

"Stop it," She ordered, wiping her tears aggressively. Why were they not stopping at all?

He leaned in, his hands on his knees. "You still had a chance then, but you didn't," Half grateful that he hadn't used the phrases that taunted her the most, she sunk into her hospital bed. "Tumhari wajah se hi yeh sab hua hai," He pointed at her forehead.

And she broke.

"HAAN, mujhe bura laga! Yahi sunna chahte the na?" She sobbed, letting years of unspoken grief find some relief in some temporary moments. "Mujhe bura laga! Khush?"

"Kyoon?"

"Kyoonki main terese pyaar karti hoon Manik," She had been so self-absorbed in her own sorrow that she missed a brief fleeting moment where Manik was thoroughly restraining himself from crushing her bones in his chest. "Sirf aaj ya kal nahi, balki bohot pehle se," She said between sniffles. "Jabse hum dost bane, tabse, hamesha hamesha se,"

His eyes went cold as he turned, twitching his lips, "Stop lying Nandini, we were just friends,"

"I was scared of losing you forever if we dated and for some reason, things didn't end well... but then even when I rejected you, I ended up losing you and that bond with you. All those years I spent waiting... there was not one day that passed and I didn't think I should have just confessed to you that night. Not a single day, Manik." She looked at the faded mehendi in her palms.

How fate had come full circle with her. From promising to herself to let go of him, to letting go of all those promises even though she couldn't be with him.

"I didn't talk to other boys, I didn't go on dates with anyone, I didn't focus on my studies... I didn't do anything with my life, Manik. I couldn't, you just took everything away from me that night," Manik listened patiently, as if making up for the five years he had distanced himself from her and not been by her side through thick and thin.

"That might have been the best decision I took for you, I mean look at you... you're successful, you're financially stable, you've made your family proud, and you've found yourself an amazing partner–who's the luckiest woman in the world by the way. But not for me, I am a total failure." She brought out a fresh batch of waterfalls, but Manik could not comfort her this time. He had been shell-shocked at the intensity with which she had fallen for him.

There were so many moments in his life where he felt he had loved Nandini more than she deserved. Especially after what she did to him. He had used his pain to channel his best side, to prove to her one day that she was wrong. Utterly wrong.

But today, she had redefined those beliefs and flipped them 180 degrees. She had put her friendship and family before her own feelings for years, and the boundless capacity in which she had done that was self-destructive, to say the least. And in those painful times, he was not by her side. She had kept tabs on his whereabouts and his life updates even when she was hurting, but he hadn't bothered to, just because of his pain.  

"You were right all along when you said we could have been much more," She sighed, brutally beaten down by her emotions as they over poured from her wounded wailing heart.

Manik cleared his throat and said, "Take a deep breath,"

Her beaded eyes glanced at him and then complied through sniffles. "Another," He had said as she closed her eyes to gather some strength.

"But why?" She asked.

"Because this is going to be the last breath you'll take for the next few minutes," He uttered as he carefully anchored her chin, and softly brushed his lips with hers. She had made the first move in grasping his soft lips between hers. Her stretched jaw pulled on the bandage but that discomfort she could endure. Anything she could endure for this mind boggling moment that she had waited for... for five years.

Waves of electricity mingled with a carnal desire to touch, caress, and love every part of each other. The magnetic chemistry boiling beneath the surface for half a decade found a small pathway to manifest itself into something beautiful.

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And that's a wrap for this part :") I would end it here but the angst from five years needs another opportunity to express itself :P

Let me know your thoughts in the comment box! I love talking to you guys <3