Chapter - 25
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Shit.
Shitty Shit.
Shiiiiiiit.
I was dying, every fibre of my body was trying to kill me as I woke up. It had been two weeks since I had been back from home and so much crap had went down the hill in these past almost three months that I had forgotten that I had freaking missed two of my periods.
"Do I even have any pads?" I muttered to myself, getting up from the couch and scanned the blanket and the couch for any stains. Thankfully, there were none as I then made my way into the huge closet to check for pads and just my fantastic luck, I had none.
"Great." I whispered. "Perfect timing. Amazing planning, Parthvi."
I checked again, just to be sure. Opened another drawer. Then another. Hair ties. Bangles. A random pouch of earrings I had forgotten about. Still no pads.
I pressed my forehead lightly against the cupboard door and exhaled.
I had to call Pankhuri.
There was no other option.
I reached for my phone and it was not even seven in the morning.
I stared at her name on the screen for a full ten seconds before pressing call.
It rang once.
Twice.
I was already rehearsing an apology when she picked up.
"Haan?" her voice was thick with sleep.
"Pankhuri," I whispered. "I'm so, so sorry. I know it's early."
There was a pause. Then the sleepiness disappeared instantly. "Parthvi? Kya hua? Are you okay?"
I sighed and threw my head back,
"I'm fine. I mean, I'm not dying. But also I might be dying a little."
Another pause.
Then, she softly asked, "Periods?"
"Yeah and I have no supplies at all. I forgot to pack them while coming here." I confessed.
"Just give me five minutes, I'll be right there." she replied and I nodded for some reason and hung up.
There was a knock at the door barely a few minutes later.
I opened it to find Pankhuri standing there in a shawl, hair loosely braided, holding a small pouch.
I took it from her with a quiet, heartfelt, "Thank you," and rushed in. By the time I came back out a few minutes later, she was sitting on the chair.
"Parthvi," she said slowly, standing up. "you've been here for almost three months."
"Haan," I said. "Why?"
She tilted her head. "And you didn't get your periods at all?"
I shook my head. "No. Not once."
"This happens," she said, nodding. "Stress does weird things to the body. And you," she looked straight at me, "have been living inside a pressure cooker."
I gave a weak smile. "That's one way to put it."
" In the last few months, you moved cities, left your home, got thrown into a completely new family, hostile people and some twisted expectations. Your body has been in that survival fight or flight mode for a while now." she said in understanding.
"Sleep for a little while more, I will make sure that your breakfast is sent up here when you are up. No one will disturb you." She spoke to me, standing up.
"Thank you Pankhuri, you have been a sister to me here." I was really, really glad that she has been here and has been so good to me, always.
"You are like a younger sister to me, Parthvi.
Even our names begin with P." She smiled, keeping a hand on my cheek very gently before leaving me alone, closing the door behind her and I lied myself back on the couch, curling my legs up to my abdomen, letting my head rest on the hand rest of the couch and closed my eyes for a bit.
I don't know how long I had slept but the next time I felt my body reacting, it was out of sheer pain that made my body sit straight up, my eyes still closed and my hands involuntarily clutching my stomach, waiting for that wave of cramp to pass.
"Parthvi?" a voice, Rudra'a voice caught my attention as I opened my eyes to look at him.
He looked confused and confused through and I blinked at him, still half trapped between sleep and pain and found him walking near me, stopping just a step away from the couch, his eyebrows scrunched and his eyes all softened.
He was probably getting ready for work.
"What happened?" he asked, carefully.
I shook my head once.
Another wave of pain rolled through and I leaned forward without thinking, elbows on my knees, jaw clenched. I hated that he was seeing this. I hated that my body chose this moment and I could do nothing about it.
He went down on one knee in front of me and his hand came to my shoulder and rested there, pressing just slightly, making me look into his eyes once again.
"It's fine, it's nothing." I gulped, replying.
"Aap saaf saaf takleef mein hain, jhooth kyun bol rahi hain mujhse?" came his retort.
I opened my mouth to argue.
Nothing came out.
Another cramp hit, sharper this time, and whatever pride I had left stayed stuck somewhere behind my ribs. I inhaled through my nose, slow and shallow.
His hand didn't move away. If anything, it pressed a little more firmly, grounding.
It passed and I throw myself on my feet immediately to get myself some water but it was clearly a very, very wrong decision because my lower back reminded me how brutally it could hurt me when I was on my period, like ten thousand needles pricking me together, all at once.
It had never been this bad ever before. I had always considered myself lucky that I hardly got cramps while on my period but today was so fucking bad.
I barely took two steps.
That was it.
The pain shot up my spine and I froze, one hand flying to the edge of the table, the other curling into my stomach again. My knees buckled before I could pretend otherwise.
I didn't even see him move. One second he was kneeling, the next his arm was around my waist, stopping me from falling down entirely.
"Aaram se." he said and my forehead dropped right on his arm near his shoulder without my own permission.
His other hand came up, resting on my upper back. Before I could even register what was happening, he shifted his grip.
One arm slid behind my back, the other under my knees, the ground left my feet and my breath caught, more from surprise than anything else.
"Ranaji......." I started but his one look made me stop talking at once.
He carried me the short distance to the bed and sat me down, my back supported against the headrest, adjusting my position until I was comfortable. He then pulled the blanket over my legs, tucked it around my knees before stepping back half a pace and looked at me.
"Kya chahiye aapko?" he asked softly. "Main deta hoon."
For a second, I just stared at him.
"Paani." I said finally. My voice sounded smaller than I liked.
He nodded once and turned immediately, already moving.
"Aur kuch chahiye aapko?" he asked, looking over his shoulder towards me. I shook my head in a no and he walked back to me with a glass of water in his hands and gave it to me.
I took a few sips before I was done and he took the glass from me and kept it on the nightstand.
He didn't step away after keeping the glass down, instead, he moved closer.
Close enough that I could feel the mattress dip slightly under his weight.
He bent down, one hand reaching for the pillow behind my back and his other hand slid behind my shoulder and he tugged me forward just a little, carefully.
He then adjusted the pillow and guided me back, easing me down until my back rested properly against it.
"Sone ki koshish kariye aap aur kuch chahiye toh mai yahin hoon." He said, standing back up straight.
"Ji." I managed to say and pulled the blanket higher, letting my eyes close and letting sleep take over.
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I woke up to silence. My eyes fluttered open and I squinted slightly, turning my head toward the window. The light was brighter now, warmer.
I checked the time on my phone kept on the nightstand.
1:07 PM.
Oh.
I hadn't slept like that in a long time.
My body protested the moment I tried to move. The dull ache was still there, sitting stubbornly in my lower abdomen, my back tight and sore. It wasn't the sharp, breath stealing pain from the morning, but it wasn't gone either.
I pushed myself up slowly, feet touching the floor one at a time.
That's when I noticed him.
Ranaji was sitting at the small table near the window, his laptop open in front of him. His jacket was gone, sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his forearms, glasses perched low on his nose. Papers were spread neatly beside him, his phone placed face down, forgotten.
The faint tapping of keys stopped when I shifted my weight.
He looked up instantly.
"You're awake," he said, voice low.
I nodded.
He stood up immediately and made his way to me.
"Feeling better?" he asked.
I nodded.
Too quickly.
"Yes. Much better," I said, even managing a small smile.
It was a lie. A bad one.
He looked at me like he did not believe me but did not call me out. He was about to say something when his phone went off.
"I am okay, Ranaji. You can attend to it." I told him, my eyes following the direction from where the sound was coming.
He looked conflicted but then he looked at me for a few seconds more and nodded, walking back, taking the call and I made my way to the washroom after taking my clothes.
Mumma must have told me a thousand times to not wash my head while I was on my period, specially on the first two days but I never listened to her because I loved standing under the shower, letting warm water hit my scalp.
I massaged my head with the shampoo slowly and by the time I was done, I was actually feeling a little better.
I changed into fresh clothes and stepped out, wrapping the towel in my wet hair while walking back into the room when it hit me, the smell of food which made me realise that I was a bit hungry.
Ranaji was now on some video conferencing while the attendants were arranging two plates on the coffee table.
"Raanisa, the lunch is served and if there is anything that Ranaji or you need, we will be right outside." one of the maids said and asked for my leave.
I nodded as they walked out and Rudra's meeting was also over and he walked to the table and asked me to sit. I did while he took his seat next to me on the couch.
I was just reaching out for the rice bowl when he beat me to it and started to serve me.
"Bas, bas Ranaji." I stopped him when he did not stop and for some reason, my stupid hand held his wrist as I looked at my plate.
I pulled my hand back immediately.
"Sorry," I said, a little too fast.
He looked at my hand for half a second longer and nodded, keeping the bowl back on the table as we both started to eat.
Halfway through the meal, my towel loosened and a few wet strands slipped down my neck. I tried to fix it with one hand, failed, and was about to ignore it when he leaned forward slightly.
"May I?" he asked.
I looked up.
He gestured toward my hair as I looked down to them and then looked back up at him and found myself nodding before I could say that it was fine.
He reached out and tucked the loose strands back into the towel, tightening it a little so it would stay. His fingers brushed the side of my neck and I shivered, visibly and I forgot how to breathe.
His fingers stilled against my neck, hovering before he pulled his hand back.
"Th...thank you." I said, looking down once again at my plate.
We ate in silence again, the comfortable kind this time. Not awkward.
When we were done, I stood up and was just picking the empty bowls to put them on the trolley when he took them away from my hands.
"Yeh sab aapko karne ki zaroorat nahi hai Parthvi. Aap jaake thodi der aur aaraam kar lijiye." Ranaji said, keeping the bowls he had taken from me into the trolley, letting the maids do the rest of the work.
"Ranaji aap office nahi gaye?" I just realised that and it was just a thought in my head but somehow it slipped.
He laughed, probably looking at my confused reaction.
"Yeh baat aap abhi realise kar rahi hain?" he asked, an eyebrow raised.
"Aap phir mujhpe haans rahe hain." I said, crossing my hands in front of myself and looked at him.
He shook his head, still smiling.
"I am not laughing at you." he said. "I'm just amused."
"By what?"
"By how distracted you are right now."
"You did not have to stay here because of me. I am okay." I told him.
"Mai jaanta hoon ki aap yeh maanti nahi hain, par aap meri patni hain. Mai yahan aapki wajah se nahi ruka hoon, aapke liye ruka hoon." he replied, taking one step closer to me and I found myself taking one back, away from him.
The couch pressed lightly against the back of my knees and I stayed there, hands clasped in front of me, suddenly very aware of the space between us and how quickly it had disappeared.
"I am going to go and play with Ishaan for a while." I told him.
"No." was his reply.
No?
"What? Why?" I was borderline shocked.
"Because you need to rest and he will make you run behind him." Ranaji said, almost towering me with his height.
I stared at him.
"Excuse me?" I asked, blinking once. "I'm not made of glass."
"I never said that you were."
"Then why are you saying no like you get to decide?"
"Because," he said evenly, "you can barely stand straight for more than ten minutes and Ishaan does not understand the concept of rest."
"That is not my........"
"Aur aap abhi bhi mujhse jhooth bol rahi hain ki aap theek hain." he added, cutting in, not raising his voice, just stating it.
I opened my mouth.
Closed it.
Damn it.
"Fine, but I am still going to go to Pankhuri." I told him.
He exhaled slowly, like he'd been expecting that.
"Ranaji, please this is n....." I started when another cramp hit me and I bite my lips hard to stop myself from showing him any pain because that would just make me look at a fool in front of him now.
He looked at me, about ninety percent in concern and ten percent amused.
"So you would rather hurt yourself more to prove your point than accept that I was right?" He asked, almost smug.
I glared at him.
"That is not what is happening." I said through clenched teeth.
"Really?" he asked mildly. "Because from where I'm standing, that is exactly what is happening."
"I am not trying to prove anything."
"You are." he said again, infuriatingly calm. "You always do this when you feel cornered."
"I am not cornered."
"You are standing with your back against the wall, refusing to sit, refusing to admit you're in pain and refusing help." he listed, ticking the points off on his fingers. "If that is not being cornered, I don't know what is."
Another wave hit, lower this time, slower but deep enough that it made my knees wobble. I grabbed the armrest behind me again, pretending it was a casual stretch.
He noticed.
Of course he did.
"That is enough." he said.
Before I could argue, before I could even straighten up, he stepped forward and pressed his hand to my shoulder.
"Sit." he said.
I did.
The moment I sat, the tension drained out of my legs like they'd been waiting for permission to give up. I leaned back, exhaling slowly, one hand still hovering near my stomach out of habit.
"Good." he said quietly, then stepped back.
I looked anywhere but at him.
He walked to the side table and picked up the heating pad without asking, plugged it in, checked the temperature like he actually knew what he was doing. Then he turned and held it out to me.
"For your back." he said.
I froze for half a second.
It was stupid. He had already carried me, tucked me in, watched me curl in on myself in pain. This should not have been the moment that made my face heat up.
And yet.
My fingers brushed his as I took it from him, and that was when it hit me.
He knew that I was on my period.
I mean it was nothing to be embarrassed about of course, but I never went around telling guys that I was on my period.
The faint warmth that crept up my neck had nothing to do with the heating pad. I pressed it against my lower abdomen and focused very hard on adjusting it properly.
"Thank you." I said, a little softer than before.
He nodded, like this was the most normal thing in the world and sat on the armchair opposite me this time, not too close, not far either. Close enough that if I leaned forward, I could probably reach him.
Then he spoke, more casually, like he was discussing the weather.
"You do not need to be embarrassed."
My head snapped up.
"I am not." I said immediately.
He raised an eyebrow. Just one.
"Parthvi," he said evenly, "your ears are red."
I pressed my lips together.
"You're imagining things." I muttered.
He leaned back in the chair, one ankle resting over the other knee with his laptop.
"You don't like being seen when you're vulnerable," he continued, voice even. "You don't like needing help. And you especially don't like it when I see you having a weak moment."
I let out a small, humourless breath. "Aap kuch bhi bol rahe hain, Ranaji. Aisa kuch bhi nahi hai."
He studied me before saying, "Aisa hi hai, bas aap maanna nahi chahti hain."
I scoffed, but it came out tired, not sharp. "You make it sound like you know me better than I know myself."
"I am trying to learn," he replied. "And you are bad at hiding things when you are tired."
That shut me up again.
"Aapko lagta hai ki mai aapka dushman hoon, ki aap mujh par bharosa nahi kar sakti hain. Pati maanna toh bohot door ki baat hai, aap toh mujhe filhaal ek accha aadmi bhi nahi samjhti hain." he continued, still looking at me in the eye.
I tried to say something but no words came out.
"Aapki galti nahi hai, galti meri hai aur iss galti ko sudharne ki zimmedari bhi meri hi hai." he took his eyes off me and looked back into his laptop.
I stared at him, really stared this time. At the way his jaw tightened just a fraction, at how his fingers rested on the edge of the laptop but did not move.
"I don't think you're my enemy." I said finally, my voice quieter than I meant it to be.
His gaze lifted slowly.
"You just confuse me but again, everything about my life confuses me now and I am not saying this as an accusation towards you.
It is just my truth. It is my reality. I cannot forgive Papa for what he did and I cannot accept you for what you are to me right now, either.
My heart does not accept you as my husband but you still are, on paper.
I just don't know what to do." I confess.
He didn't respond immediately.
"I am not asking you to forgive anyone." he said finally. His voice was steady, stripped of rank, power or expectation. "Not your father. Not me."
I looked at him again.
"And I am not asking you to accept me as your husband because acceptance forced is not acceptance at all." he continued.
Something inside my chest loosened, just a little.
"I don't know how long it will take for you or if you will ever even look at me the way a wife should look at her husband. I made my peace with that uncertainty the day I married you."
He stood, not looming this time, just present.
"But until you decide what your heart can and cannot do," he said, softer now, "I will stay where I am welcome and step back where I am not."