chapter 56
Chapter 57 - It Hurts Too Much
Two months later.
The house remained exactly as it had been.
Nothing had changed.
Everything had changed.
---
The alarm rang at six every morning.
Aarav was always awake before it.
Not because he had become disciplined.
But because Alarm was useless, because of his insomnia
He lay on his back, staring at the ceiling.
The room was quiet.
Too quiet.
There used to be another rhythm in this room.
The rustle of someone getting ready.
The soft sound of slippers against the floor.
The faint scent of jasmine shampoo lingering in the air.
Now...
There was only silence.
He reached across the bed without thinking.
His hand met cold, untouched sheets.
He froze.
Then slowly withdrew it.
It was becoming a habit.
One his mind refused to break.
---
He showered.
Buttoned his shirt.
Knotted his tie.
Everything happened with mechanical precision.
His reflection in the mirror looked unfamiliar.
Dark circles rested beneath tired eyes.
His beard had grown unevenly.
He had lost weight.
His suits still fit.
Just differently.
Looser.
As though even the fabric knew something was missing.
---
As always The dining table was set for one.
The housekeeper approached carefully.
"Sir... breakfast is ready."
Aarav looked at the plate.
Toast.
Eggs.
Fresh fruit.
The same breakfast Kavya used to insist he never skipped.
He sat down.
Picked up the fork.
Forced himself to take one bite.
Chewed.
Swallowed.
The food tasted like nothing.
He placed the fork back on the table.
"I'm done."
The housekeeper looked at the almost untouched plate.
"...Sir, you've barely eaten."
"I'm not hungry."
It had become his answer every day.
No one argued anymore.
---
Work became easier.
Meetings didn't remind him of anniversaries.
Contracts didn't smile at him across dinner tables.
He arrived before everyone else.
Left after everyone.
His assistant quietly placed coffee on his desk every morning.
Black.
Just the way he always drank it.
One afternoon, she hesitated.
"Sir..."
He didn't look up.
"You've had the same cup since this morning."
Only then did Aarav notice.
The coffee had gone cold hours ago.
He stared at it for several long seconds.
A faint smile crossed his lips.
Cold coffee.
Once...
He had left countless cups waiting because work mattered more.
Now...
He simply forgot to drink them.
He pushed the cup aside.
"I'll get another."
He never did.
---
Sunday came.
For the first time in years...
Sunday meant something.
Aarav stood inside a flower shop.
The florist recognized him.
"The usual?"
He nodded.
White lilies.
Soft pink roses.
A few tiny wildflowers.
Exactly the way Kavya used to arrange them.
He carried them home himself.
Placed them on the kitchen counter.
Opened his laptop.
A familiar tutorial appeared on the screen.
The same one he had watched months ago.
His hands worked slowly.
Carefully trimming each stem.
Removing damaged leaves.
Cutting each flower at an angle.
He had become better.
Much better.
The arrangement looked almost identical to Kavya's.
Almost.
He carried the vase to the window.
Sunlight touched the glass.
Just like it always had.
He stood there quietly.
The room suddenly smelled faintly sweet.
For one impossible second...
He closed his eyes.
It almost felt like she had just walked into another room.
Like she would return any moment and smile at the flowers.
His lips curved unconsciously.
Then...
Reality settled over him.
His smile disappeared.
She wasn't coming home.
The flowers remained.
She wouldn't.
His fingers brushed one soft white petal.
"I'm getting better..."
His voice was almost a whisper.
"...too late."
---
Night arrived.
The house darkened.
He never turned on more lights than necessary anymore.
There was no reason.
No one complained that the house felt gloomy.
No one switched them on behind him.
No one laughed softly and called the place depressing.
The silence had become another resident.
---
Eleven fourteen.
He looked at the clock.
Still awake.
Twelve fifty-two.
He turned onto his side.
One thirty-seven.
He closed his eyes.
Two forty-six.
He opened them again.
Three fifty-nine.
The room remained unchanged.
Four forty-three.
Birds began singing outside.
Morning was arriving.
He hadn't slept.
Again.
He can't.
He missed kavya.....
---
His gaze drifted toward the bedside table.
A small white bottle rested there.
Sleeping pills.
He picked it up.
Turned it over slowly.
The label read:
Take one tablet before bedtime.
A bitter laugh escaped him.
One.
He remembered when one had been enough.
Then two.
Then three.
Now...
Even they couldn't silence his thoughts.
He opened the bottle.
Several tablets rolled into his palm.
He stared at them for a long time.
"So..."
he whispered,
"Please..."
He wasn't speaking to anyone.
Only asking for a few hours without memories.
Without regrets.
Without hearing her voice inside his mind.
He swallowed them dry.
The bitterness lingered on his tongue.
He leaned back against the headboard.
Closed his eyes.
Waited.
Minutes passed.
Half an hour.
An hour.
Nothing.
Sleep never came.
Instead...
The memories did.
The vase.
The empty chair.
The cold coffee.
The hospital call.
Her frightened eyes the night he held her in the hallway.
Her voice inside the café.
"We're strangers."
His breathing became uneven.
He pressed a hand against his chest.
As though he could somehow stop the ache spreading inside it.
It only grew heavier.
A tear escaped despite him.
Then another.
Soon they slipped silently into the pillow beneath his head.
He didn't bother wiping them away.
There was no one here to see.
No one here to pretend for.
His voice broke the silence.
"So..."
A shaky breath followed.
"So this is what loneliness feels like."
He laughed quietly.
It sounded empty.
"I couldn't survive two months..."
His eyes closed tightly.
"...and you survived years."
The words shattered something inside him.
He buried his face into the pillow.
The side where Kavya used to sleep.
It no longer carried her scent.
Even that had faded.
Just like everything else.
His shoulders began to shake.
For the first time since she left...
He didn't try to hold himself together.
He simply cried.
Not loudly.
Not dramatically.
The quiet, exhausted sobs of a man who had finally understood the weight of everything he had lost.
"I'm sorry..."
His voice was muffled by the pillow.
"So... so sorry."
Another long silence followed.
Then, barely above a whisper...
"It hurts..."
His fingers tightened around the edge of the pillow.
"It hurts so much..."
His breathing faltered.
"...Kavya."
The room answered him with silence.
Outside, the first rays of morning slipped through the curtains.
A new day had begun.
For everyone else.
For Aarav...
The night had never truly ended.
[Author's note: caution ???? too many sleeping pills can even cause death, i just wrote it for the emotional depth]