77.TRUTH
The steady beeping of the monitor was the first thing I became aware of not pain, not the heaviness in my chest, not even the stiffness in my limbs, just that sound, rhythmic and persistent, pulling me back from the darkness.
Beep... beep... beep... It dragged me into consciousness slowly, reluctantly.
My eyelids felt impossibly heavy, but I forced them open anyway.
The ceiling above me was unfamiliar, white, glaring, too clean.
A hospital. Of course. For a few seconds, everything remained blurred, disoriented, until memory began to return in broken fragments the road, the speed, the sudden flash of headlights, the impact and then her.
Aarohi. My chest tightened painfully at the thought of her.
My fingers twitched weakly against the bedsheet, tubes attached to my hand, my body protesting even the smallest movement as a sharp sting shot through my arm.
But none of that mattered. Where was she?
My gaze shifted toward the side of the bed, searching instinctively, but it was empty.
A quiet unease crept in immediately. No.
.. she wouldn't leave. Not like that. Not again.
I swallowed, my throat dry, and tried to push myself up slightly, only for a sharp, tearing pain to rip through my ribs, forcing a quiet groan from my lips.
"Don't," I muttered under my breath, exhaling slowly, trying to still myself, to endure it when the door creaked open.
My eyes snapped toward it instantly, a flicker of hope rising despite everything. Aarohi. But the figure that stepped inside wasn't her, and in that instant, the warmth inside me vanished, replaced by something cold and unyielding. Nirav.
He walked in casually, as if this were just another ordinary visit, hands tucked into his pockets, expression unreadable yet familiar enough to stir something dark within me.
I recognized him immediately, the same man from that night, the same man who had stood too close to her, whose presence had ignited something ugly in my chest.
My jaw tightened as he shut the door behind him, the soft click echoing louder than it should have, sealing us in silence that felt heavy and suffocating.
I didn't speak. I just watched him. Every step he took toward me felt measured, deliberate, as if he had rehearsed this moment.
He stopped near the foot of my bed, a faint smirk playing on his lips.
"So... you're still alive," he said, his tone almost amused.
My gaze didn't waver. My voice, when I finally spoke, was low and rough but steady.
"Disappointed?" He let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head slightly.
"You have no idea." Silence followed again, but this time it wasn't empty, it was sharp, charged, something colder simmering beneath the surface.
He pulled a chair closer and sat down, leaning back as though he had all the time in the world.
"You know," he began, glancing around the room casually, "things would've been much easier if you hadn't survived.
" My fingers curled faintly against the sheet, but I remained still, offering no reaction.
He studied my face, clearly expecting something anger, frustration, anything but when he got nothing, irritation flickered across his expression.
Good. "You really don't get it, do you?" he continued, his tone shifting.
"You never deserved her." I exhaled slowly, letting the words settle. Finally, something honest.
"I've known Aarohi since childhood," he went on, leaning forward now, elbows resting on his knees.
"Before you. Before all of this. She used to laugh differently back then.
" Something tightened in my chest at that, a faint flicker of something I refused to acknowledge, but I kept my expression unreadable.
"I loved her," he said simply, without hesitation.
"I still do." The room seemed to grow colder around us.
"I watched her change after marrying you," he continued, his voice hardening.
"Watched her become quieter, careful, like she was always walking on broken glass.
And you expect me to just stand there and do nothing?
To watch you ruin her life?" I lifted my gaze fully to meet his, my voice calm but cutting.
"For someone who claims to love her, you're doing a terrible job of protecting her.
" His expression faltered for the briefest second before hardening again.
"I tried to save her," he snapped. "From you.
" A humorless smile touched my lips. "By breaking her?
" The words hit their mark; I saw it in the brief flicker of doubt in his eyes before it disappeared.
"I did what I had to," he insisted. "I sent those divorce papers to your house.
" The air in the room shifted instantly, tension tightening like a drawn wire.
"He needed a push," Nirav continued, his voice edged with bitterness.
"A reason to leave you. And you gave me that opportunity.
" My fingers tightened further, the monitor beside me picking up its pace, but my voice remained controlled.
"Keep talking." He let out a faint, bitter laugh.
"I thought once she saw those papers, she'd finally walk away from you. And she did but not the way I expected.
I sent gifts too, letters... tried to remind her of what we had.
I even used my brother, got him close to your sister.
Thought maybe information would help." My gaze sharpened slightly.
"So that was your plan." "Call it what you want.
" Silence settled again, but this time it felt different heavier, more final.
"You're done?" I asked after a moment. He frowned slightly. "What?" "Talking," I clarified calmly.
"Or do you have more ways you tried to ruin her life?
" That struck harder than anything else I'd said.
His jaw clenched. "I was trying to get her back.
" I held his gaze, something inside me shifting—not anger, not rage, but something clearer, steadier.
"You don't love her," I said quietly. His expression darkened instantly.
"Don't" "You wanted to own her," I continued, cutting him off.
"There's a difference." He stood abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor.
"You think you're better than me?" he snapped.
"After everything you did to her?" The question lingered in the air, heavy and unavoidable, and for a moment I didn't answer because the truth was simple.
I wasn't better. "I know what I did," I said finally, my voice lower now, more grounded.
"And I know what it cost me. But I also know this she stayed. "
The words silenced him completely. "She heard the truth.
The full truth. She saw everything and she still came back.
" His expression shifted, something uncertain creeping in where arrogance once was.
"You tried to break her," I continued. "I broke her once too.
But she didn't choose you." A pause settled between us, thick and inescapable.
"She chose me." His hands curled into fists at his sides.
"That's because she doesn't know" "She knows enough," I cut in sharply, my patience thinning.
"And more than you ever will." He shook his head, frustration evident now.
"You don't understand" "No," I replied calmly.
"You don't." I shifted slightly despite the pain, forcing myself more upright, meeting his gaze without hesitation.
"You think love is about controlling her life, making decisions for her, manipulating outcomes," I said.
"That's not love." I paused, letting the words settle before continuing, my voice steady and firm.
"Love is standing there, knowing she might walk away and still letting her choose.
" The impact of that truth was immediate, visible.
"And she did," I added quietly. Silence filled the room again, but this time it was different quieter, heavier with understanding.
He looked away first, if only for a second, but it was enough.
"You're lucky," he muttered under his breath.
I almost smiled, but there was no humor in it.
"No," I said softly. "I almost lost her. "
The weight of that truth lingered, heavier than anything else. "And you?" I added, my tone turning colder, sharper. "You're alive right now because she wouldn't like what I'd do otherwise." His head snapped back toward me, the warning clear without needing to be raised.
Before he could respond, a soft voice came from outside the door, gentle yet unmistakable. "Veeransh...?"
Aarohi. Everything inside me shifted instantly. My gaze moved to the door without thinking, drawn to her voice as if nothing else in the world existed. Nirav saw it of course he did and in that moment, he understood everything.
Not my words, not my anger, not my strength, but her. He exhaled slowly, stepping back, the fight draining out of him in a quiet, almost invisible defeat.
Without another word, he turned, walked to the door, and left. And the moment it opened, my eyes were already there, waiting for her.