Chapter - 20
Today was officially the tenth day that I had not uttered one single word to Ranaji. It was also the thirteenth day since I had been married to him.
He had made one or two attempts to shake me out of whatever he thought I was grieving that made me stop speaking to him.
But to be completely honest and in all reality, I did not have anything left to grieve. Yes, my free life was gone, my privacy was gone, my dreams and aspirations were gone and so was my singing channel and my will to even sing anymore.
I was just not speaking to him because I wanted him to lose his mind and finally cave in, giving me my phone back along with a little bit of freedom and a little part of me.
...okay who am I kidding, every bone in my body felt happy when I look at his face, all tortured because he thought that I was not speaking because I was in pain.
It made him feel guilty and knowing it made me felt powerful in front of him. Like I was holding the strings now.
The next day after that whole news fiasco, he somehow figured out that my most favourite thing in the word to eat in the morning was coffee ice cream with crushed KitKat pieces and after breakfast, he himself got it for me here in the room.
I gave him a blank look and walked out on him to the garden for the morning sunlight in a particularly cold January winter morning.
That was also the day I realised that the new years had already gone by and no one here in this dead Palace had wished each other, how were these people even alive without a flicker of happiness was just out of my understanding.
On the second, third, fourth, fifth and sixth day, I made sure that I woke up after he left for wherever his office was and then slept before he came back to the room.
I could hear his footsteps and feel his presence near me for probably a few seconds near the couch where I pretended to sleep after he came back from work before he walked away, always with a barely audible sigh.
But on the seventh day, when I woke up, he was in the room, sitting on the chair that was kept right opposite the couch but at a far distance. He was dressed in a black turtleneck sweater with black pants, one of his leg crossed over the other and his eyes were on the file in his hands.
I froze for a second.
He did not look up.
The curtains were half open. Morning light fell across the floor, stopping just short of his shoes as he sat as straight as an arrow.
I stood up and folded my blanket and as I was walking past him to the washroom when his hand come out of nowhere and caught my wrist as a shiver ran through me because his palm was warm and in complete contrast to my cold skin.
He was still sitting and reading into the file.
"Aap kab tak yun hi chup rahengi, Parthvi?" he asked.
Slowly.
He was tall when seated.
Standing, he towered.
He did not step too close. He did not crowd me. But his presence pressed in on me all the same. I could feel the warmth of him. I could feel his attention even though I refused to look up.
My eyes stayed fixed somewhere near his shoulder.
He waited.
I knew he was watching my face. Waiting for even the smallest reaction but I was not going to give him absolutely anything.
He exhaled slowly.
"Kuch toh boliye." he said.
I did not look at him or not nod. I did not shake my head. I did not even blink in his direction.
His fingers tightened around my wrist for half a second.
Then loosened.
He waited again.
I stayed still with a blank face and could feel his gaze move over me, like he was trying to read something written under my skin. Like he was trying to decide whether I was breaking or just being stubborn.
I was not going to tell him that it was both.
After a moment, his hand fell away and my wrist dropped back to my side.
He stood there for another second, like he was deciding something. Then he turned, picked up his jacket and walked out of the room, the door closed behind him.
"Aapko kya hi fark padega Ranaji, mere chup rehene se?" I muttered in my lowest voice possible and walked straight into the washroom then.
Today, I woke up only to find him still asleep but he was not lying on his bed.
He was half sitting, his back against the headrest, his head tilted slightly to one side and his eyes closed in a white plain kurta. Both his hands rested loosely on his thighs like he accidentally fell asleep there.
For a second, I just stood there and looked at him before taking a few steps closer to the bed. The blanket was folded neatly at the foot of the bed. I picked it up and unfolded it halfway and leaned forward, draping it over his shoulders.
It was a very cold morning.
Up close, I could see the faint lines near his eyes that were not usually visible. His face looked calm, devoid of that freaky control he carried everywhere with him and there was no tension in his jaw.
I stepped away quietly, picked up my shawl and freshened up before walking out of the room without looking back.
Outside, I found Yuvaan who was pushing Adhiraj Uncle's wheelchair, probably taking him for fresh air.
"Good morning Bhabhisa." he acknowledged me with a small smile.
"Good morning." I returned his smile and was just about to walk past him when he called me out again.
"Bhabhisa, ek minute."
"Mujhe aapse koi shikayat nahi hai aur aapko mujhse maafi maangne ki koi zaroorat nahi hai.
In fact, mujhe toh aapko thank you bolna chahiye ki aap Ishaan aur Pankhuri ko kabhi meri help karne se manaa nahi karte.
Ishaan ke saath mera din kaise chala jaata hai, mujhe khud nahi pata chalta. " I confessed to him.
"Ishaan aur Pankhuri dono hi aapko bohot pasand karte hain, Bhabhisa. Galtiyan toh mujhse, Bhaiya se aur Daadisa se hui hain." He had a hurtful smile.
"Aapse koi galti nahi hui hai, Yuvaan.
Mai samajh sakti hoon. Anyone would dislike the daughter of the man who destroyed his family.
All I am asking from anyone is to just for once, try to look at me past that.
I am also a human being and I have my good and bad aspects and now that we all have to spend our entire lives as a family, I.
...I....I just want that to happen peacefully. " I sighed.
"I know, bhabhisa. I promise that after today, I am never going to mention your father ever again and let that aspect come in between our relationship. Jitni izzat main bhaiya ki karta hoon, usse zyada aaj se aapki karunga." He said and took one step forward and bent in front of me.
"Aap yeh kya kar rahe hain! Nahi Yuvaan." I stopped him but he still touched my feet.
"Aap mujhse sirf aayu mein choti hain Bhabhisa par audhe mein kayi badi hain, mujhe aapke pair shaadi ki din hi chu lene chahiye the." He replied, getting up back on his feet.
I felt awkward immediately and stepped back.
"You don't have to do that." I said quietly. "Please don't ever do that again."
He nodded at once.
"I understand," he said. "But I meant every word."
I believed him. That was the strange part.
Adhiraj Uncle watched us and for the first time since I had arrived here, I did not feel like I was standing on enemy land.
"Papa, Papa, Papa! Catch me if you can!" I heard Ishaan's voice breaking the silence as he came running towards us from the opposite direction.
Immediately, Yuvaan's face brightened.
"Bhabhisa, aap Papa ke saath rahengi thodi der ke liye? Mai iss ladke ko dekhta hoon." He asked me and I immediately agreed with a nod.
My gaze landed on Ranaji once, who was still asleep so I quietly made my way out again and closed the door behind me.
"Ek minute uncle." I said and walked in front of his wheelchair, wrapping the shawl around his neck and shoulders, flattening out the creases with my hands.
"Ab theek hai." I said and could not hold back a smile.
His eyes just softened once and then I went back behind, pushing the wheelchair towards the gardens.
We had almost covered the distance in the gallery when a sharp voice cut through the air.
"What do you think you are doing?"
Daadisa.
I barely had time to turn before her hand came down on my arm, shoving me away from the wheelchair. I stumbled, my foot catching against the uneven stone path, and the next second I was on the ground, my palms scraping against the cold surface as my knee hit hard.
The sound of the wheelchair jerking made Adhiraj Uncle gasp.
"Ma'am...." I started, pushing myself up slightly, more shocked than hurt.
"Stay away from him," she snapped, positioning herself between me and the wheelchair like a shield. "How dare you touch my son?"
I froze.
"I was just...."
"Just like your father who killed my bahu," she continued, her voice rising, sharp and shaking with something far uglier than anger. "you are trying to harm this family from the inside."
My chest felt hollow.
"I would never....." my voice cracked before I could stop it.
"Enough." she said coldly. "Your blood is enough proof of what you are capable of."
"I am not my father," I said, my voice low but steady despite the way my throat burned. "And I will never hurt him. Or anyone."
Daadisa's eyes were burning. Her hands were clenched tight at her sides, as if she was holding herself back from doing worse.
Before she could say anything else, I heard footsteps in the gallery.
I was still sitting on the ground, my palms scraped, my knee burning, and my shawl slipping off my shoulder. I tried to stand on my own, but Yuvaan reached me first, holding my arm gently and helping me up.
"Bhabhisa," he said softly. "Are you okay?"
I nodded.
Ranaji went straight to the wheelchair and bent down slightly so he was at his father's eye level.
"Baba, aap theek hain?" he asked him.
Adhiraj Uncle blinked once.
"Yahan kya ho raha tha Daadisa?" He then asked, standing up back on his feet and made his way towards her.
"Aap humein jo sazaa dena chahte hain, de dijiye. Par hum yeh baat bilkul nahi bardaash karenge ki yeh ladki humare bete ke aas paas bhi aaye." she declared, looking at him.
"Daadisa, maine hi Bhabhisa se bola tha ki woh Baba ke paas rahein. Yeh kabhi bhi unko koi nuksaan nahi pahuncha sakti hain aur yeh baat aap bhi jaanti hain." Yuvaan, who was standing next to me, with his one hand still clutching my upper arm, said, his eyes landing on me.
Ranaji did not look at Yuvaan immediately.
For a moment, his attention stayed on Daadisa. On the way her shoulders were still squared, defiant. On the way she refused to step back even now.
Then he turned his head slightly to look at us before he looked back at her.
"Daadisa, yeh gunah aapse dobara kabhi na ho, iss baat kya dhyaan rakiye kyunki maafi ek baar hi milti hai, baar baar nahi." he warned her before stepping away and walking towards us.
"Yuvaan, baba ko unke kamre mein le jao." he said.
"Ji Bhaiya." he replied, gently leaving his hold on my arm and left with Adhiraj uncle, leaving me standing in front of Ranaji and I looked at him in the eye for one second in ten days before I looked away again.
"You are hurt." he said after a moment, looking at my elbows, his hands touching my skin very lightly.
I did not respond.
His fingers hovered near my elbow, close enough that I could feel the heat of his skin without actually feeling the touch.
There was a little blood on my palm. A thin scrape across my skin.
I shifted my hand away from him and took a step back.
Then another.
Pain shot up my ankle so suddenly that my breath left me in a sharp gasp. I looked down instinctively. My foot twisted inward, the ground uneven beneath it. I tried to put weight on it again.
I couldn't.
I turned away from him and started walking towards the room anyway because it will be a cold day in hell before I ask for his help.
I had barely taken three steps when the world tilted.
One moment I was limping forward and the next, I wasn't touching the ground at all.
Ranaji's arm slid under my knees and the other around my back, lifting me up against his chest.
I sucked in a breath, startled.
My hands instinctively pressed against his shoulder.
WHAT THE BLOODY HELL?
"Mujhe pata hai ki aap mujhse madat nahi lena chahti hain," he said, his voice low, steady, close to my ear, "par iska matlab yeh nahi hai ki aap apne aap ko hi takleef pahunchati rahein."
I stared at the line of his jaw, refusing to turn my face towards him.
He adjusted his hold slightly, careful of my ankle.
"Daadisa ki taraf se, mai aapse maafi maangta hoon." he continued.
I did not respond, just simply looked away, fixing my gaze on the corridor ahead as he carried me.
When we reached the room, he kicked the door shut with his foot and walked straight to the bed.
"Sit." he said, softly but without room for argument.
I was placed down on the mattress before I could even react and he stepped back, giving me some space.
He turned towards the cabinet, opened a drawer, pulled out the first aid box and came back and knelt down in front of me. He opened the box and took out cotton, antiseptic, bandages.
He glanced up briefly, as if asking permission.
I gave him nothing so he went ahead anyway.
The antiseptic burned and I flinched before I could stop myself. His grip tightened just enough to steady my hand, not enough to hurt.
"Hold still." he said.
I did.
He cleaned the scrape carefully and wrapped the bandage neatly, his fingers brushing my skin every now and then, making me want to pull back my hand away from him.
Then he moved to my ankle.
He removed my sandal, his knuckles grazing my skin.
By the time he was done, my wounds were covered, my ankle supported, and his hands were resting on his knees.
"This will not happen again." he said after a moment. "I will make sure of it."
Something inside me snapped and a short laugh left my mouth before I could stop it.
"Say it," he said. "Whatever it is that you are thinking, give it to me."
I shook my head.
"Parthvi."
The way he said my name made my spine straighten but I still did not look at him.
My fingers curled into the bed sheet instead.
"Parthvi, please." he asked again and this time, his tone made me look at him, it almost sounded like he was begging.
I looked away, again. And he sighed, again.
He stayed quiet for a few seconds after that, long enough for me to think he would stand up and leave again.
Instead, he straightened where he was kneeling and looked at me.
"Aap jo maangna chahti hain," he said slowly, "maang sakti hain mujhse. Main mana nahi karunga."
My breath caught.
For a second, my mind went completely blank. And then everything rushed in at once.
Annulment or divorce, whatever it was.
The word came so fast in my head like it had been waiting for this exact moment and I could almost hear myself saying it.
Almost see his reaction, the refusal, the explanation of why it was not possible, the law, the family and Ratangarh.
I knew, with absolute certainty, that it would never happen.
Not now. Not ever.
So I swallowed it back.
Hard.
He waited for my answer. Finally, I spoke.
"I want to see my family," I said quietly. "And I want my phone back."
His jaw tightened immediately but he did not look surprised or shocked. He looked like he already knew what I was going to ask him. Then, he walked to the window, his back to me.
"Two days." I heard his voice.
I opened my mouth to argue, then stopped.
Two days were still more than zero. Two days meant seeing mumma's face, hearing Papa call my name, hugging Jai Bhaiya tight and letting Ruhani Bhabhi take care of me.
Sitting in my old room and pretending, even for a little while, that my life had not been sealed shut inside here.
"Okay." I said.
He turned slowly, studying me like he was trying to measure how much damage this decision could cause. His eyes dropped to my bandaged ankle, then to my hands.
"The phone will be returned to you before you leave." he said. "You will travel with security. You will not step out without informing them. And you will come back on time."
I nodded again. I did not trust myself to speak more.
He left the room after that.
I lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. I had won something. Not everything. Maybe not even enough. But it was a crack.
And for now, a crack was enough to breathe through.
Tomorrow, I would go home, even if it was just for two days!