Trigger Warning: Self-harm.

"Ashna! For god's sake, please open the door!"

Sandeep's skin had turned crimson after the repeated thumping against the door of the Panic Room in which Ashna had locked herself. He cursed the bulletproof and explosive-resistant material of the door, which he could not take down by the mere physical overwhelming of the thick and glistening metal.

"Ashna! Please. Please don't do this to yourself! We'll talk to Aniket and explain him everything. It'll be alright," said Preeta, resting her cheek against the icy frame to hear for any sounds emanating from the other side.

She had rushed to her friend's aid when Sandeep called her. The distress in his desperate voice had made the urgency of the situation more than clear.

No reply came from the other side of the door, much to their worry. Sandeep rammed his head against the door frame in despair, regretting the moment of weakness which compelled him to place the proposition to sway.

He had offered a near irresistible temptation to the woman, who had yearned for company and attention for years, and whose mother died in her arms with a wish to find love. The repulsion searing his skin condemned him for allowing their moment of desolate weakness to happen, despite knowing the weaves that bound her and the threads which broke her.

"Do you think Ashna?"

Sandeep trailed off, unable to complete his question, as the mere thought petrified him. Preeta stilled for a moment with the thought and swallowed the lump which had formed at her throat. Her fingers found their way to his shoulder and offered a gentle squeeze, but even as she assured the crestfallen lover, she was less than assured herself.

They had called Aniket several times over the night, since he was the only one who could open the door apart from Ashna, but the attempts to reach him were as futile as hurling every object they could lay their on at the panic room door.

The chirping of the waking birds only added to the anticipation that had wound around their helpless hearts. Sandeep pulled his phone out of his pocket like a possessed man when lightning struck him. Aniket did not just hold the key to the Panic Room, he also held the key to disengage Ashna's determination.

His frantic typing on the gadget made Preeta peer at him with narrowed eyes. The splay of varying hues over his features, which had drowned in darkness up till then, prompted Preeta to turn the key lights on. When she returned to Sandeep's side, she saw him adjust the volume and press the phone against the door.

Aniket's voice boomed from the speaker of the phone. "I am Aniket. I am here to—"

Sandeep paused the video to avoid Ashna realizing her husband had not indeed arrived in person, but it was just a video played to draw her out. With every moment ticking past, Sandeep's fear of his idea had failed to find the results strengthened. He bit down on his lower lips and shook his head.

The door clicked open and Ashna, pale as a ghost, searched for traces of the man whose voice had drawn her out of the room.

"ASHNA!"

The friends rushed to her side and pulled her away from the room before she realized the truth and disappeared into the chamber.

"Aniket! Where is he? I heard his voice!" she asked, alternating between her overjoyed friends.

"How dare you pull this stunt on us?" yelled Sandeep, pulling her into a tight embrace as Preeta ruffled her hair before looking for any signs of injury on her body, only to lose her breath at the sight that met her eyes.

"Blood..."

Her hoarse whisper compelled Sandeep to pull out of the embrace to check the source of the viscous blood which Preeta had noticed.

Her visible body had crimson, as though she had spent hours trying to rub away every evidence of her infidelity without an inkling of concern for her own body. The source of blood was a wound on her right forearm, in a distinct shape, much to the ache of Sandeep - Aniket.

Blood continued to drip off the edge of the 't' and it appeared she had just finished carving her husband's name into her skin, and they could only imagine fathoming the depth of the wound and the repentance that pushed her into the desperate act.

Before either of them could realize, Ashna had swayed for the slightest of moments before giving up her full weight into the arms of Preeta and Sandeep, and succumbed to unconsciousness.

"ASHNA!"

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Love.

The one emotion which had brewed storms in their life. The one feeling which meant everything to them, but had brought them down to nothing. While one's love had hues of betrayal splayed over and hid under the hazy covers of vengeance, the other's love drowned their existence in a vortex from which they knew no escape.

As they lie entangled in each other's limbs in an intimate embrace under the sheets which reeked of their passionate activities of the previous night, they were two pieces of a puzzle which fit together, but did not produce an appealing image.

While he sought love from his wife and viewed the ordeal as a rebound, she wondered if it was the first step for her love to be just hers.

Kriti was the first one to rise from the peaceful slumber which had engulfed them after years. The sight which greeted her clouded eyes pushed her into reality, almost like a jerk. His slight snores reverberated in her ears as she took in a sharp breath, realizing that her teenage fantasy of waking up beside the man of her dreams, after a night of longing and frenzy romance, had turned true.

In that exquisite moment, it did not matter to her the means of achieving the moment were far from moral or justifiable. Kriti's intent staring made Aniket to arise from the arms of Morpheus. Her slightly tanned face with stress lines and sunken black eyes jerked away the remnants of drowsiness from him.

Visions of the previous night made their way into his turbulent mind. He had surprised himself by remembering those moments of passion with a deep sense of yearning and palliative refuge. She was no less than a soothing tablet, layered with a toxic and addictive aphrodisiac, which if consumed once, had the power to compel one to consume it every day.

He remembered the wave of possessiveness which took over him when she recalled the reason he was not the first one to claim her body.

Her intense confession of love had tied such strings to his heart. He felt an integral part of him snatched by the revelation of the situation.

"Shocked, I am not a virgin, Aniket?" she asked, her determined eyes daring him to accept his undue expectations from her.

He stared at her, dumbfounded, as she read his mind.

"I thought that if I let flame of desire and passion consume me, I would forget you, but it was not long before I realized I tried searching for you in every man I slept with. I couldn't help but wonder how blissful would it be if it was you," she said, with a broken yet surreal smile and he felt something within him break.

Maybe it was the prejudice and view that her virginity would be the seal of her love for him.

Along with the loyalty, which could never reseal again, she had broken something else. He had not broken her hymen. She had broken the crux of his existence, which he believed was his obligatory relationship to Ashna.

"You don't regret it, do you?" he asked, his eyes delving deep into her eyes, which twinkled with remnants of pain.

"We will see, won't we?"

He pulled his arm, which supported Kriti's head, trying to ignore the flicker of pain in her hazel orbs accompanying his action. Her words were weaving such a beautiful and enticing web of love that he could feel his heart rushing towards it.

"It is in the best interests of both of us I leave now, Ritz. We will discuss the rest of the proposition when you deem fit," he said, gathering his clothes strewn across the floor in a wild fashion, and moved into the restroom without waiting for Kriti's answer.

His goodbye was a blur to her, and she lost herself in thoughts. A potent brew of remorse, fear, and anticipation of the consequences clutched her heart. She made her way through the restroom and turned on the shower with only the hot water faucet open. She collapsed onto her knees and let the hot water burn through her. Her conscience warned her of a sin on her account, and her heart galloped in the worry of repercussions that awaited them.

She had agreed to be the mother of his child if he agreed to her proposition, and it was her turn to fulfill her end of the bargain. She had not dared to refuse him the last night, terrified of the consequences for him if she had rejected his advances. And as the aftermath closed upon her, she felt trapped in a vortex with no escape.

How would she ever bring herself to give up her child, especially when Aniket Rawat was the father of the child?

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