Vikrant

Hanging up the phone, I wait for Manish to enter my office.

It has been three days since I told him to find out everything about Nandini.

That reaction from her is still bugging me, and I wonder if that day, I pressed a nerve related to something painful from her past.

"I won't tolerate it if you ever try to touch or even come close to me without my consent."

"I won't ever let anyone take advantage of me again."

These two sentences she had spoken at that time have been repeatedly playing in my mind. And the way she said it, I feel there is a story behind it.

It isn't that I have left everything for the investigator to find out. I had tried speaking with her.

Seeing her crying in the garden pulled some strings in my heart, which surprised me. The protectiveness I felt toward her at that moment was uncalled for, and I have been trying to deny it ever since.

I don't even know this girl. She means nothing to me except for being the girl I married to get back on Myra and Raghav.

So, why does her sad face repeatedly flash behind my closed eyelids whenever I close my eyes? Why, on seeing her sad face, do I feel like reassuring her that everything will be okay?

After taking her inside the house that night, I asked her why she reacted the way she did, and I did it as gently and calmly as I could, but she didn't reply. In fact, her only response was she was too tired and wanted to forget about it.

The way she spoke then made me feel like she was not just referring to the tiredness from the events of that day. It was like she was tired of everything she had gone through for the years, and that made me even more curious.

Maybe that's the reason. I'm curious to know about her and why she behaved that way. Perhaps that's why I'm thinking so much about her these days.

*****

Nandini

Taking the blanket off me, I climb down from the bed, and getting a change of clothes from the cupboard, I head to the bathroom to take a shower, hoping it will wash off the exhaustion of the last few days from my mind and body.

It has been exactly three days since my breakdown in the garden, and I have been down with a fever since the morning following that night.

I can't believe I'm even thinking this, but I'm grateful to Vikrant for understanding my turmoil at that time.

Yes, I'm still angry at him for ruining my life, but I also agree that his being with me then had given me a bit of reassurance. Perhaps it was because I was too shaken to be alone at that moment.

Handling everything alone every time had brought me to the brink of exhaustion, so Vikrant's support that night felt reassuring.

Still, the following day, I felt terrible for being so weak. I felt awful because I allowed myself to depend on the person who had made it clear that I had no place in his life.

Expecting affection from my parents used to give me too much grief, and that's why I have learned not to make the same mistake again.

That's why I refused Vikrant when he offered to be with me the following day. Instead, I asked him if I could have that day off from the office because I wanted to be alone.

I had fully expected him to criticize me for that because it had just been my second day working in his office. On the first day, I ran out of his office before the working hours were over, and on the second day, I was asking for a leave. I even expected him to fire me on the spot.

But his reaction surprised me. He not only gave me that day off but also told me to take a week off and get some rest.

He also told the staff in the house to take proper care of me and didn't get offended when I told him I didn't need any help or understanding from him. Instead, he just smiled at me and asked me to take care of myself before leaving for the office.

Since that day, he has been nothing but pleasant and understanding toward me. I have tried maintaining my distance from him, but the little things he does for me, like bringing me my breakfast and coffee in the morning, asking me if I took my medicines, and checking now and then to see if my fever has gone down—all these things have started to scare me.

All these things he does for me make me feel as if he cares for me, but they also terrify me.

It already pains me to know that I'm unwanted by my husband. I would shatter into pieces if, one day, I began expecting him to want me, and he kicked me out of his life, telling me I took his sympathy toward me as his care and concern for me.

That's why I need to ask him to stop whatever he thinks he is doing. I can't hurt myself by expecting something from someone who has clearly stated I mean nothing to him.

Stepping out of the bathroom after taking a shower, I walk to the bedside table to receive the call when I hear my phone ring, and I am surprised to see my father's name on the screen.

A tiny part of my heart rejoices, thinking he might have called me because he missed me, but a major portion of my mind scoffs at that.

Still, keeping that tiny amount of hope fluttering in my heart, I receive the call.

"Hello, Papa. How have you been? I had been missing you and—"

He interrupts me before I can complete the sentence.

"Keep your pleasantries to yourself, Nandini. And tell me, why did you send a private investigator to our house?"

I'm shocked to hear that. "What are you saying, Papa? I didn't send any private investigator."

He scoffs from the other end, and even though he isn't in front of me, I know he must be shaking his head in disappointment. After all, that's what he frequently does when interacting with me—showing me how much of a disappointment I am to him.

"Oh! You have also learned to lie now?" He says. "Why are you such an insensitive girl, Nandini? You know how devastated Vibha and I are after Vivek's death, yet you sent a private investigator here to ask about his accident. Vibha continued crying even after that man left, and it got so bad that I had to call a doctor to calm her down. Why are you still bothering us even after going away from our lives? Can't you let us live in peace now?"

I feel a pinch in my heart after hearing about Maa's condition. "Please, believe me. I didn't send any—"

He cuts me off again. "Stop with your lies, Nandini. After Vibha started crying, I called the police on the man who came to our house, prying about something that distressed us. When the police questioned that man, he told them Vikrant Sisodiya had sent him. Tell me, why would your husband send someone here unless you asked him to do so? I'm sure you wanted to hurt us, which is why you did this, didn't you?"

"Do you really think I would do something like that to hurt you? Do you really think this low of me?" I ask, feeling hurt by my father's mistrust toward me.

"Don't act as if you are innocent and pure-hearted, Nandini, because I know what you are capable of."

His words feel like a dagger to my heart, and I take deep breaths to lessen the angst arousing within me.

"You are the reason our son died, and apparently, that was not enough for you. That's why you are now scheming to hurt me and Vibha so you can finish us off, too," he continues. "I let it go this time, but I won't be so generous the next time. We have fulfilled our responsibility by getting you married. Please do us a favor now and get away from our lives. We don't want to keep any relations with our son's murderer. Get that straight into your head."

Saying that, he cuts the call, and the phone falls from my trembling hand.

I can't believe he spewed such venomous words at me.

Ever since my brother's death, I knew they held me responsible for it. I had seen it in their eyes.

But this is the first time he directly called me Vivek's murderer.

I slump on the floor, tears freely flowing from my eyes before I wipe them furiously.

"Vikrant," I whisper, my anger toward him rising as I recall what he did, and I know exactly why he did it.