17. NO CHOICE
AAROHI:
The first thing I noticed when I opened my eyes was the strange heaviness in my throat, like someone had stuffed cotton into the space where my voice used to live.
My tongue felt thick, slow, stubborn. Even breathing scraped inside my chest. I blinked at the ceiling of the room.
No, my room in this mansion that still didn't feel like anything belonging to me.
The light pouring through the curtains wasn't sharp like morning. It was soft, mellow... afternoon, maybe. I had slept too long again. My head throbbed, tiny pulses behind my temples, reminding me of the fall. I pressed my palm against my forehead. Still tender. Still warm.
The door clicked softly. I flinched immediately. A nurse, one of the hospital staff Veeransh kept calling in and out, stepped inside with a tray. She looked nervous, the way everyone in this house looked unless they were in his direct presence.
"Good afternoon, madam," she whispered softly. "You're awake. That's good. You should try eating a little. Your strength..." She paused, lowering her gaze. "Your strength is still very low."
I nodded. Or tried to. My neck wobbled like it wasn't sure it wanted to support anything today. She helped me sit up slowly. The soup smelled like vegetables boiled into surrender. My stomach twisted painfully, hunger and nausea fighting for space inside me.
I lifted the spoon, but my hand shook too badly to hold it steady. The nurse gently held the bowl instead, bringing it closer to my lips. I swallowed a tiny sip. Warm. Bland. But it slid down my throat without burning. That felt like a win.
"You're doing well," she murmured, the only person in this house who talked to me like I wasn't furniture. I opened my mouth, wanting to say thank you, but only air came out. Then a weak sound escaped me. "Th... a..."
The nurse's eyes widened immediately. "Don't force yourself, madam. Slow. Only slow." She finished feeding me and cleaned the tray before stepping back. "I'll call the doctor to check on you later," she said softly before leaving.
The room instantly felt too big. Too quiet. Too cold. A silence that wasn't peaceful, only empty. I wrapped the blanket tighter around my shoulders and let my eyes drift toward the window.
The garden outside was bright. Flowers. Sunlight.
Trimmed grass. It looked like a world I wasn't allowed to step into without someone watching me breathe.
Somewhere in this house, Veeransh Sarkar probably walked as if nothing was wrong.
Business calls. Orders. His empire. Everything moving around him like he was the center of every orbit.
Because he was. I pressed trembling fingers against my throat. Only one word. The doctor said only one word at a time. My voice was like a baby bird learning how to fly after someone clipped its wings.
After a moment, footsteps echoed in the corridor.
Heavy. Purposeful. My heartbeat stumbled instantly.
His footsteps. The door didn't open. Maybe he wasn't coming here.
Maybe he was only passing by. But then my thoughts shifted somewhere else entirely.
My phone. I didn't have it. My mother. I still hadn't seen her.
I clutched the blanket tighter, nails digging into the fabric painfully. Every time I tried to speak, tried to beg, my voice betrayed me. And he knew it. And he still didn't care.
A sudden wave of dizziness hit me hard. I leaned back against the pillows, breathing unevenly. The day he revealed my name, "Aarohi Veeransh Sarkar," I watched the news flashing on the TV in the hallway while a maid walked past.
My face wasn't shown. Only the name. Only the new title. The empire. The heir. Everything was about him. Nothing was ever about me. A soft knock made me jump. The nurse peeked inside again carefully. "There's... something on the news," she whispered. "About you."
My fingers froze around the blanket. About me? Not about him? "What?" I croaked. The sound was so small it barely counted as a word. The nurse hesitated. "They're questioning who you are. They... they want to know why your family wasn't present. Why the marriage wasn't announced before."
My stomach twisted so sharply I pressed my hand against it.
Of course. Of course this would happen. Everything about me was a secret.
A lie. A pawn. I lowered my eyes silently.
The nurse stepped closer, voice hushed gently.
"His mother... she's been asking everyone to keep the noise down so you can rest. She seems very worried about you. "
His mother. Soft hands. Soft voice. Nothing like him.
I nodded faintly. The nurse adjusted my pillow one more time before leaving.
I was alone again. My gaze drifted toward the door, half expecting him to barge in, half praying he wouldn't. My throat tightened painfully.
I whispered the only word I could manage.
"Ma..."
It broke halfway. Like me. And everything went quiet again.
The afternoon light slowly faded into a quieter shade, stretching long shadows across the room.
I sat against the headboard, trying to breathe past the ache in my throat.
The doctor's words repeated endlessly in my mind. One word at a time. No strain. Slow.
Slow. But nothing in this house moved slow.
Not him. Not the pressure around me. Not the fear choking my voice.
My fingers trembled as I picked at the blanket.
I needed to say more. I needed to try. The nurse had said my voice was returning, even if it was broken, even if it was shattered like glass.
I closed my eyes and tried to force sound out of my throat. "M... ma..." A pause. Deep breath.
"Ma...mm..." The sound cracked, but it existed. Something instead of nothing. I tried again. "Ma... maa..." A tear slipped down my cheek at the tiny success. The first time in days I produced more than one sound in a single attempt. But I needed more.
I tried shaping other words, feeling them break apart before leaving my lips. "I... wa..." My voice faltered. My chest tightened painfully. "Wa... w-want..." It was like pushing stones through my throat. Still, I tried. My hands clenched the blanket tighter. "I... w-want... m-m...mo..."
Before I could finish, the door opened.
I froze instantly. He walked in. Veeransh Sarkar didn't enter rooms. He took ownership of them. His presence filled every corner before he even reached the middle of the space. His eyes fell on me immediately.
I stiffened, wiping my tears quickly, hoping he didn't notice. But he noticed everything. He shut the door behind him, the click echoing like a warning through the room. A beat of silence passed between us. His eyes narrowed slightly.
"Why are you crying?" I swallowed hard, throat burning painfully. "I... I..." The word cracked in half. He stepped closer. "You should be resting," he said sharply. "Not straining your voice again."