Chapter 2
Sidharth
“You told her?” I snap, my fists clenched at my sides as I glare at Viraj. “She just woke up in a damn hospital bed, for God’s sake. How could you dump everything on her like that?”
We’re standing just a few feet from Nisha’s room, and it takes everything in me not to lose it completely.
Viraj folds his arms across his chest, radiating that cold, bureaucratic indifference that makes my blood boil. “I don’t see the harm. She has a right to know, Sidharth. And let’s not forget that she’s a victim, and questioning her is part of our job. I was simply doing mine.”
I take a step forward and grit out, “Part of your job? You call that doing your job? You gave her no time to breathe, no fucking time to even understand where she is. She’s been in a coma for a year, and the first thing she hears is that her parents and best friend are dead.”
Dragging a hand down my face, I curse under my breath.
I should never have left guarding Nisha’s room.
Not even for a second. But I’d stepped out to make a few urgent calls, to ensure Prakash was being watched closely and that he couldn’t manipulate anyone or twist the system while sitting behind bars.
“She asked me,” Viraj replies evenly. “I didn’t volunteer the details. I told her what she needed to hear. And if you think I enjoy doing this, let me tell you that I don’t. But I also don’t have the luxury of staying silent. My job is to tell the truth, not sugarcoat it.”
I exhale sharply. “Why can’t you get it, Viraj? She’s been through hell, and the last thing she needs is your clinical truth.”
He shrugs, almost annoyed. “Care to explain why you are taking this so personally? She’s just a case, Sidharth. You don’t even know her. So why are you so… affected?”
I want to yell that she’s not just a case. That she’s mine. Mine to protect. But I bite it back. Because even I know how damn ridiculous that sounds.
She’s not mine, not in any way that would make sense to anyone.
She’s Reyansh’s girlfriend’s sister. That’s it.
But ever since I carried her, limp, unconscious, and barely breathing, into that hospital, something in me just…
shifted. And I can’t explain it. Hell, I don’t even understand it myself.
I’ve tried to shake it off, rationalize it, kill it with logic.
But none of it works. It’s like my mind had made a silent vow the moment I saw her, already deciding that no one gets to hurt her again. Not while I’m still breathing.
“It’s none of your fucking business,” I grind out, glaring at him.
A nurse walks past and glances at us cautiously. I lower my voice. “Fine. Do your job. But next time, you don’t talk to her unless I’m there.”
For a moment, we just stare at each other. He doesn’t respond, and I don’t wait for him to. I’m done here.
I brush past him without another word and head straight to Nisha’s room. Sunita Aunty had gone home to grab a change of clothes, which means she’s alone in there.
As I get closer to the room, there’s a strange pull in my chest. It’s the first time I’ll be seeing her since I brought her to the hospital.
I’ve been meaning to check on her earlier, but work got in the way. And now, knowing I’m about to see her, hear her voice… it does something to me.
I push the door open quietly, and my gaze falls on her. Her eyes are closed, her breathing is steady, and for a second, everything else fades. My damn heart slams against my ribs.
Yeah… she definitely does something to me.
Not wanting to wake her, I quietly walk to her bedside and sink into the chair next to her.
I lean forward, elbows on my thighs, and just watch her.
There’s a small bandage near her hairline, and an IV line taped to the back of her hand.
She looks so damn fragile. And yet, even now, I can’t deny there’s a quiet beauty to her.
Her soft brown hair falls messily around her face, framing delicate features that somehow still steal my breath away.
But the next second, my hands ball into fists. She shouldn’t be here, hooked to machines, looking this damn vulnerable.
The door creaks behind me. But I don’t turn. I already know who it is.
“How is she?” Reyansh’s voice is quiet, as if afraid to wake her.
I glance at him over my shoulder. “She’s fine,” I mutter. “Or whatever ‘fine’ means when you’ve had a bomb dropped on you the moment you wake up.”
He steps closer, sighing as he looks at her. “Yeah… I know Viraj told her everything.”
My jaw tightens. “That bastard just dumped it all on her.”
Reyansh nods, then shifts the topic. “Kavya’s worried sick.
She’s been asking every half hour if she can see Nisha.
It was hard enough keeping her glued to her room.
The only reason she hasn’t rushed in here yet is because the doctor made her promise to wait till morning.
” He drags a hand through his face, frustration clear in the small gesture.
“But you know Kavya. That ‘minute’ won’t last very long.
She’s barely holding it together as it is. ”
I don’t respond. I just turn my eyes back to the woman lying in the bed.
Reyansh places his hand on my shoulder. “You should go home, man.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I say, my eyes still fixed on Nisha. “I need to be here.”
He lets out a sigh. “You need to rest too. She’s got doctors, nurses…”
“She has me now,” I snap, not turning to face him.
“Sidharth, listen—”
“No,” I cut him off, turning towards him. “You need to be with your woman. She needs you right now. Go to her. Don’t waste your energy giving me lectures.”
His brows pull together, his gaze flickering between me and Nisha.
“I’m not leaving,” I repeat firmly. “So don’t ask.”
He studies me for a long moment. I can see it, the words forming. He wants to say something, probably to remind me that I’m toeing a line I shouldn’t, not with his girlfriend’s sister.
But he doesn’t say it. Instead, he just nods, then turns and walks out without another word, the door clicking softly shut behind him.
I take a deep breath, steadying myself before looking back at her. Even in sleep, she looks haunted, restless. I don’t know how long I sit there, minutes, maybe more, until I see the smallest flicker in her lashes.
Her eyes flutter open as she turns to the side to face me. But instead of a smile, there’s caution in her eye, a wariness slowly creeping in, like she’s trying to place me… trying to figure out if I’m a threat or a lifeline. And that fear in her eyes is enough to mess with my head.
“Who… who are you?” she breathes, her voice hoarse.
I straighten slightly, watching her closely as I keep my voice low. “I’m Detective Sidharth, the one who brought you here.”
She nods. “Right. Sunita Aunty mentioned you.”
I offer the faintest smile, though it feels forced. “How are you holding up?”
She blinks at me, like she’s searching for the right words. But before she can say anything, I speak again.
“I’m aware that Inspector Viraj filled you in on everything.”
She nods slowly, but doesn’t say a word. Instead, her silence, her pain, and the sadness in her eyes say it all.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, my throat working around the words. “You shouldn’t have heard it like that. Not so soon.”
Her lips part like she might say something, then press together again.
“He should’ve handled it differently,” I murmur, my gaze steady on her. “Eased you into it. And not just dump it all on you like that.”
“I’m… I’m… okay,” she stammers, her voice rough and uncertain, like she’s trying to convince herself more than me.
I shake my head. “No, you’re not.”
“To be honest, I don’t even know what to feel,” she admits quietly, her eyes fixed on a point just behind my back.
“I feel so numb.” She pauses, her fingers clutching the blanket a little tighter.
“It’s like my mind knows what happened, but my heart hasn’t caught up.
Or maybe it has, and it just doesn’t want to acknowledge it. ”
“I get that,” I say, my voice low. “Sometimes the heart creates illusions to protect itself from truths it doesn’t want to accept.
It’s a kind of survival.” I keep my gaze on her, hoping my words reach her.
“I know it’s not going to be easy.” I pause, desperately wishing I could take her pain away.
“But you need to know that I’m not going anywhere.
You don’t have to go through this alone. I’m here with you.”
She finally looks at me, her eyes narrowed in confusion.
I get it. I probably sounded like an obsessed lunatic.
I know I said too much. Made her more uncomfortable than trying to reassure her.
But that wasn’t my intention. I just didn’t want her to feel alone in this mess.
Maybe I handled it wrong. Maybe my words backfired.
But I don’t regret saying them. I meant every damn word, and I’m not taking any of it back.
Before I can ease her, she shakes her head. “Can I… have a few minutes to myself?”
I hesitate, not because I don’t want to respect her words, but because the thought of leaving her right now twists something inside me. But I’m also aware that I need to give her space. She’s already fighting too many demons. She doesn’t need to fight me too.
“Of course,” I say, pushing myself up from the chair even though every part of me wants to stay.
She turns her face away, her way of telling me she doesn’t need me.
Not wanting to push, I walk to the door without a backward glance.
Fuck. Life sure as hell is twisted. I’ve spent my life staying detached, especially never getting personally attached to a case. But now it feels like… she’s wrecked all that resolve without even trying.