22. FALL
AAROHI:
Pain wakes me before the sun does. It starts in my foot, deep and pulsing, sharp enough that my breath catches the moment I try to move. I lie still for a few seconds, staring at the ceiling, waiting for the ache to settle into something bearable, but it doesn't.
The room is quiet, too quiet, the kind of silence that feels temporary, like it's only waiting for something bad to happen. Pale morning light slips through the curtains softly, almost kindly, and for one foolish second I pretend I'm somewhere else. Somewhere small. Somewhere safe.
Somewhere my mother is in the next room and I'm allowed to wake up slowly without fear tightening around my chest. Then memory crashes back all at once.
The mansion. The shattered glass. Blood staining white marble.
His face, furious and terrifyingly close.
My throat tightens painfully as I push myself upright, biting my lip when pain shoots through my injured foot again.
The bandage is still wrapped neatly around it, clean and firm, proof that someone cared enough to do it properly. I don't know why that thought lingers in my mind, but it does. Slowly, I swing my legs over the side of the bed and lower my foot toward the floor.
The second it touches the marble, pain tears through me so suddenly that a broken sound escapes my throat.
"Ah..." I cover my mouth instantly, heart pounding hard enough to hurt.
I can't walk properly. Not like this. I breathe carefully through the pain, forcing myself to stay calm because the last thing I want is to call anyone for help.
I don't want to bother anyone. Most of all, I don't want him to know I'm struggling again. Still, after a moment, I force myself to stand. Every movement feels unsteady, every step feels like punishment, but eventually I make it to the window.
Outside, the garden stretches beneath the pale morning sky, green and untouched and peaceful in a way this house never feels. Dew glistens softly over the grass. The air itself looks fresh. Quiet. Free. I want that freedom so badly that it aches inside me.
I want space to breathe without eyes watching me, without fear of saying the wrong thing or moving the wrong way.
Before I can stop myself, I decide to go outside.
I change into a soft cotton night suit, loose enough not to press painfully against my foot, and wrap a dupatta around myself automatically.
No one will be there this early, I tell myself. Just air. Just silence. Just a few minutes where I can breathe like a normal person again. I slip quietly out of the room and into the hallway, keeping one hand against the wall for balance as I move.
The mansion still feels asleep. No voices drift through the corridors.
No footsteps echo downstairs. For once, the house doesn't feel alive with tension.
I move carefully toward the staircase, gripping the railing tightly while descending one painful step at a time.
By the time I finally reach the garden doors, my body already aches from the effort.
But the moment I step outside, cool morning air brushes gently against my face and I close my eyes automatically.
Relief floods through me so suddenly it almost hurts.
The garden is empty, exactly the way I hoped it would be.
No guests. No cameras. No whispered conversations.
Just silence and the soft sound of leaves moving in the breeze.
I stay on the stone pathway, too afraid to risk stepping onto the wet grass with my injured foot, and for a few precious moments everything feels calm.
"Madam?"
I flinch violently and turn around. A young servant stands a few steps away holding a watering can, his expression startled the second he notices my bandaged foot.
"I...I'm sorry," he says quickly. "I didn't know anyone was outside.
" "It's okay," I whisper softly. My own voice surprises me now, quieter than before but steadier too.
His concern deepens as he looks at my foot.
"You shouldn't be walking," he says carefully.
"You're injured." "I just needed some air," I admit quietly.
He nods respectfully and steps back to give me space.
"If you need help, madam, please tell me.
" I try to take another step forward, but pain explodes through my foot so violently that my balance slips instantly.
The world tilts sideways before fear crashes through me.
Strong hands catch me before I hit the ground. "Careful!" the servant says quickly, steadying me with one hand around my arm while keeping a respectful distance. My heart pounds violently from the sudden panic.
"I...I'm sorry," I stammer immediately. "I didn't mean.
.." "It's alright," he says gently. "You almost fell.
Please sit before you hurt yourself again.
" He guides me slowly toward the nearby bench and helps me sit carefully.
Pain throbs through my foot relentlessly while I try to steady my breathing. "Thank you," I whisper.
"You shouldn't be alone right now," he says softly.
"I'll call someone." "No!" The word escapes me louder than intended.
He freezes immediately. "I mean... please don't," I say quickly, panic tightening painfully in my chest. "I'll go back soon.
" After a second he nods. "As you wish, madam.
I'll stay nearby in case you need help again. "
For a few brief seconds everything feels calm again.
Then the air changes. Heavy. Sharp. Dangerous.
A chill runs through me before I even look up.
He's standing on the balcony above us. Veeransh.
Watching. His eyes are fixed directly on me and the servant beside me, on the way the man still stands close enough to catch me if I fall again.
My stomach drops instantly. Something dark settles over Veeransh's expression before he suddenly starts moving.
Fast enough to make fear slam into my chest. I barely manage to stand before he's already storming down the stairs, his footsteps echoing like thunder through the garden.
"Sir..." the servant begins nervously, but Veeransh reaches him in seconds and grabs him violently by the collar.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he snarls.
"N-no... please," I rush forward instinctively.
"He helped me. I almost fell..." "Shut up," Veeransh snaps without even looking at me.
He shoves the servant backward harshly. "Get out of my sight.
Now." The servant lowers his head immediately and leaves almost running.
Panic rises painfully inside me as I look toward Veeransh.
"It wasn't..." His hand shoots out suddenly, not to hit me, but to grab me.
His fingers wrap painfully around my wrist without caring that my balance is already weak.
"Come." The word sounds cold and absolute.
He drags me toward the house before I can say anything else.
"Please... slow down," I plead breathlessly while stumbling beside him.
"I can't..." He doesn't listen. Pain tears through my injured foot with every forced step, but I bite down hard on the inside of my cheek to stop myself from crying out.
He pulls me through the silent corridors, past shocked staff members who immediately lower their eyes, straight toward his study. The door slams shut behind us so loudly that I flinch violently. The sound echoes through the room like a gunshot. He turns toward me with fury burning in his eyes.
"What were you doing with him?" I step backward instinctively until my spine hits the door. "I wasn't doing anything," I say quickly, breath shaking badly. "I lost balance. He just caught me before I fell." "Don't lie to me!" he shouts. "I'm not lying," I insist weakly.
"I went outside for air. No one was there. I slipped and he helped me." His chest rises sharply with every breath. "You think I didn't see you standing there talking to another man?" "I wasn't talking," I whisper helplessly. "I was about to fall."
A cold laugh leaves him. "Do not try that with me." Fear crawls painfully through my chest at the sound of his voice. "You are not to have contact with any man from now on," he says harshly. "No talking. No touching. No standing near them." My throat burns painfully.
"You are my wife," he continues, every word hard and possessive. "And you will behave like one." Tears blur my vision immediately. "I didn't mean..." "I don't care what you meant," he cuts in sharply.
"I care about what I saw." He steps closer and I instinctively move backward, gasping softly when pain shoots through my injured foot again. His eyes flick down briefly toward the bandage and something unreadable flashes across his face for half a second before disappearing completely.
"Go to your room," he says coldly. "And do not step outside again without permission." I nod quickly because I can't trust my voice anymore. "I understand." He opens the door sharply and I limp past him slowly, every step burning, my chest heavy with humiliation and exhaustion.
By the time I reach the corridor outside, my body feels weak in a way that has nothing to do with my injured foot. One thought repeats painfully inside my mind with every limping step I take back toward my room. I only wanted air. And somehow, even that became wrong.