70. Too Much To Carry
"Hey, Ms. Arora..." I said as I entered her office. She looked up from the file lying open on her desk. I took a seat across from her.
I had called her last night after collecting Dhwani's reports from the doctor.
Thankfully, most of the reports were normal.
But her hyperthyroidism levels were completely out of range. Her T3 and T4 levels were elevated while her TSH had dropped lower than normal. On top of that, she was severely deficient in Vitamin D and her iron levels were low enough for the doctor to warn us about it.
No wonder she was constantly exhausted.
No wonder she kept getting dizzy, anxious and irritated over the smallest things. At least now we know the reason.
The doctor had given a strict warning regarding her medicines, sleep schedule and stress levels.
Especially stress.
And I know the real reason for her stress, so I came to invite her for dinner tonight because she declined for it last night. But I want her there, so that they can solve their problems and forget this stress.
"Mr. Raizaada." She removed her glasses. "Is everything alright? Did something happen?"
"No, nothing happened." I shook my head. "Actually, I came here to invite you for dinner tonight."
"I already told you, I can't come there. What I did was my job. You don't have to thank me for it."
"If not for the job, then come for Dhwani." I replied softly. "From whatever little I know about her past, I understand there is something she doesn't know. And I think both of you deserve a chance to sort things out."
She slowly pushed her chair back and walked towards the window. Her hands folded across her chest as she stared outside.
"Seven years passed, Yugant." Her voice was calm, but something in it felt painfully fragile. "Do you know how long seven years are for a mother who never stopped searching for her daughter?"
I remained silent.
She let out a slow breath. "You can't imagine what those years were like. Waking up every morning not knowing if your child is alive or dead. Going to sleep every night wondering if she's safe. Following every lead, every possibility, every rumor."
Her eyes remained fixed outside."And then one day, after all those years, you finally find her." A bitter smile touched her lips.
"Only to discover that she hates you."
The last words came out strained. As if speaking them still hurts.
The confident woman who could destroy people in a courtroom was gone. I didn't saw any lawyer. I saw a mother and her unsaid pain.
Tired. Heartbroken and carrying seven years of regret.
"There is no point digging up the past now." She turned towards me. "Whatever happened will only hurt her more." She turned to face me as she said those words.
Her eyes softened.
" But she deserve the truth-"
"She only deserves happiness." A small smile appeared on her face. "She has a husband who loves her. A family that stands beside her. People who would burn the world for her if they had to."
There was pride in her voice. The kind only a parent could have.
"I don't want to become the reason that peace breaks again."
She lowered her gaze for a moment before looking back at me.
"Some wounds don't heal by reopening them, Yugant. Sometimes the kindest thing you can do is leave them alone."
"Leaving them alone never helped, Aunt."
Samarth's voice echoed through the room.
Gentle. Calm. Yet carrying a weight that made both of us turn towards the door.
He stood there with one hand in his pocket, his gaze fixed on Ms. Arora.
A faint smile touched his lips. "Some wounds don't heal because they're opened," he continued quietly. "They stay open because they were never allowed to heal in the first place."
The room fell silent.
"You both spent seven years suffering for the same reason." His eyes moved between us. "One believing she was abandoned. The other believing she lost her daughter."
Samarth took a few steps inside.
"Maybe the past can't be changed." His voice softened. "But silence won't change them either."
"Exactly." Ms. Arora laughed bitterly. "That's exactly what I'm saying. Nothing can change what happened. There is no need to push and shatter lives all over again."
"Shatter lives?" Samarth repeated, his calmness slipping for the first time. "Really? Is that what you think this is?" He took a step forward. "If there was anyone whose life had been shattered it was Dhwani."
The statement hung heavily between them.
"You and her father failed as parents," he continued. "You both lost her, and now both of you are living your lives. Him with his wife. You with your daughter. But what about Dhwani? Did anyone ever stop and think what she went through?"
For a moment, complete silence filled the room.
"Oh?" Ms. Arora let out a hollow laugh. "Is this what a peaceful life looks like to you? Like mine?" Her eyes flashed. "Is this how easily you judge people, Samarth Rathore?"
She shook her head.
"Everyone worries about Dhwani. Her pain. Her wounds. Her trauma. What she suffered." Her voice trembled. "But did anyone ever stop and ask what I suffered? Why wasn't I present in the court that day? What had I lost?"
The room went still.
"Do you have any idea what it felt like to hold my second pregnancy report in my hands and go home to share that happiness with my husband..." Her voice cracked. "...only to find out he was having an affair?"
Ms. Arora's eyes filled, but she didn't stop.
"Do you know what it felt like when I went to my parents house to tell them the truth, but got a call in the middle of the night telling me my daughter had been arrested in a drug smuggling case?"
A tear rolled down her cheek.
"Do you know what it felt like to watch her cry and beg me to trust her?"
Her breathing became uneven. "Do you know what I was doing that entire night?"
she asked, looking directly at Samarth. "I was three months pregnant, running from one place to another in heavy rain, collecting evidence to prove my daughter's innocence."
Her voice rose.
"I found those proofs putting my life at risk." The words echoed through the office.
"I found every single proof I needed." For a second, hope appeared in her eyes.
Then it shattered. "And then I met with an accident."
Her hand moved to her stomach unconsciously. The gesture alone made my heart sink. "I lost those proofs along with the baby growing inside me."
I felt my ears ringing. I wasn't even able to console her. What should I even say at this point?
"You think I abandoned her?" she whispered. "You think I chose my reputation over my daughter who was my whole world?"
She laughed again, but this time it sounded broken.
"I woke up in a hospital bed after losing my unborn child." Her voice shook violently. "And the first thing I did wasn't cry for that infant I lost. I wasn't crying for my daughter who was there breathing..... waiting."
More tears streamed down her face.
"I ran to court." The words came out like a confession. Her shoulders trembled. "And when I got there..." She closed her eyes. "I found that the hearing had already been postponed."
The pain in her voice filled every corner of the room.For years she had carried it alone.
The guilt.
The grief.
The loss.
Everything.
"I failed her," she whispered. "Not because I didn't try. Not because I didn't love her."
She looked away, unable to hold anyone's gaze. "I failed her because life was cruel enough to take everything from me in a single day."
Tears rolled freely down her cheeks now. Dhwani wasn't the only person trapped in that night seven years ago. A part of Mrinalini Arora had never left it either.
My feet felt heavy, as if they had been nailed to the floor. Somehow, I managed to move and grabbed the glass of water from the table. Removing the lid, I turned towards Ms. Arora and took a step in her direction.
Then I heard the clicking of heels.
Every head turned towards the door.
My breath caught as I saw Dhwani was standing there.
Samarth wrapped one arm around her shoulders, as if he was the only thing keeping her upright. Her eyes were swollen, her face stained with tears, and the way her chest rose and fell was enough to tell me she had heard everything.
Everything.
Oh god! Samarth brings her here.
My gaze immediately shifted to Ms. Arora.
The color drained from her face. Her lips parted slightly as if she had forgotten how to breathe. She took one step towards Dhwani, her hand lifting instinctively.
"You're lying." Her voice was barely above a whisper. But in that silent room, it sounded deafening. "You're making stories. I know that."
God. Not now.
Not now Dhwani.
"Dhwani..." Samarth tightened his hold on her shoulder. "This isn't the right time. Just listen to her first-"
"I am lying?" Ms. Arora's voice cut through the room. Disbelief. Pain. Shock. Everything mixed together.
Dhwani laughed bitterly. "Yes. You're lying."
Her eyes were blazing now. "Dad told me everything. He told me you never trusted me. He told me you didn't come because you didn't want your reputation ruined." She paused. "You left because you wanted to leave. Not because of some accident. Not because of some miscarriage."
Her voice broke. "It's all a lie."
"Dhwani..." I stepped closer. "Stop. We'll talk about this at home."
I placed the water glass back on the desk and reached for her.
She immediately grabbed my arm. "Don't trust her, Yugant."
Her voice trembled. "Please tell me you know she's lying."
I looked at her then at Ms. Arora.
"No." The answer left my mouth quietly.
"She's telling the truth."
Dhwani stared at me.
For a second, genuine betrayal flashed across her face before she pushed my hand away. "No." She shook her head violently.
"No. I hate her." The tears returned. "I hate her so much."
"Dhwani-"
"Can't you see what she's doing?" she cried. "She's manipulating all of you. She's blaming everything on Dad now." Her eyes landed on Ms. Arora again.