Chapter 7
Nisha
A soft smile spreads across my lips as I watch my sister and Reyansh on stage, greeting their guests.
Seeing Kavya in that red lehenga, beautiful, graceful, and glowing with joy, feels like one of the most breathtaking moments I’ve ever witnessed.
I can’t help but think back to just a few hours ago, when they took their pheras and exchanged vows that came straight from the heart.
Even the pandit couldn’t hide his amused smile, clearly touched by how their personal promises outshone the traditional ones.
My eyes drift around the grand banquet hall of the Taj Hotel, where the reception is in full swing, alive with elegant decor, soft music floating through the air, and happy faces all around. Standing just below the stage, I glance down at my hands, nervously fidgeting with my fingers.
God, how I wish Mom and Dad were here. This is what every parent dreams of—seeing their daughter glowing in her wedding attire, stepping into a new chapter of her life surrounded by love.
But they’re not here with us. And I know Kavya feels it too.
I saw it in her eyes when she glanced at the empty seats where they should’ve been sitting.
My breathing turns uneven, the ache of their absence almost unbearable.
But Kavya, being Kavya, senses the shift in my mood. I look up to find her eyes on mine, knowing just like they’ve been ever since she stepped onto that stage.
“Are you okay?” she mouths, her eyes soft with concern.
I offer her a small smile in return, mouthing back, “I’m fine.”
But the look in her eyes tells me she doesn’t believe it.
I narrow my eyes at her ever so slightly, the unspoken message clear: Trust me. I’ve got this. You don’t need to worry about me right now. And don’t even think about doing anything stupid, like stepping off that stage to check on me.
Reluctantly, she turns her gaze back to the guests, though I can sense her hesitation. Reyansh, ever attuned to her, notices it right away. He leans in and presses a soft kiss to her forehead, gently drawing her attention back to him.
My hand drifts to the blue bead bracelet wrapped around my wrist, the one Kavya made for me. She’d promised she’d make it for my birthday, and she kept that promise, even when I lay in a coma, unresponsive.
My fingers trace the beads, and before I can stop myself, my mind slips to the place I’ve tried so hard to avoid.
Damn, I always thought time heals everything.
But some wounds don’t fade; they sink deeper, festering beneath the surface until all that’s left is rot.
For me, the scars were left by that one decision that cost me more than I ever imagined… more than I was ready to lose.
And just like that, my breath starts to come in quick, uneven bursts. It’s subtle at first, but then it grows bit by bit. The memories, the emotions, the fear, all come crashing back, breaking free from the corners where I’d safely locked them away.
God, I’m panicking.
I try to steady my breathing, willing myself to stay calm, to keep the trembling hidden where no one can see. My fingers clutch the fabric of my green salwar as I silently chant in my head… Relax. Breathe. You can’t fall apart. Not today. Not when it’s Kavya’s big day.
But it’s getting harder.
My composure starts to slip as Prakash’s face and his betrayal play out behind my eyes like a reel I can’t pause. I swallow hard and keep forcing myself to hold it together.
As if my silent prayer is answered, I suddenly feel a loving hand on my shoulder, followed by Sunita Aunty’s warm voice cutting through the fog in my mind.
“Are you okay, beta?”
I blink, forcing a smile onto my face.
“Yup… just a little tired. God, Indian weddings really come with a never-ending list of rituals,” I say with a small laugh, trying to brush it off as she sits down beside me.
She nods knowingly, not pressing further. Instead, she says, “Why don’t you go to the room they’ve booked upstairs and lie down for a bit? Just a few quiet minutes might help.”
I don’t argue. I nod, grateful for her suggestion. I do need a few minutes alone to breathe.
As I get up, I glance back at the stage. Kavya is watching me, worry flickering in her eyes.
I mouth the words and signal with my hand, “Just stepping out for a few minutes.”
She immediately mouths back, “Should I come with you?”
I shake my head. No.
Before she can insist, Sunita Aunty steps in with a reassuring smile. “I’m with her, don’t worry.”
Kavya still doesn’t look convinced, but she gives a reluctant nod.
Stepping out of the hall, Sunita Aunty and I head towards the lift in the corner. Just as we reach it, her phone rings. She answers, and from her side of the conversation, I gather it’s Reyansh’s mom asking for a few things they’ll need for the Bidaai later.
“Give me a few minutes, I’m coming,” she says, ending the call. She turns to me, but before she can say anything, I cut in, “Aunty, it’s okay. Please go. I’ll manage on my own.”
She hesitates for a moment, clearly torn, but finally nods. “Alright, but don’t rush. Take your time, okay?”
I give her a smile before stepping into the lift. As the doors close behind me, I take a deep breath, finally finding a moment to myself.
After a few seconds, the elevator doors slide open with a soft chime on the fifth floor.
Pulling in a steadying breath, I step into the quiet corridor and start walking towards the room reserved for us.
But with every step, the walls seem to close in, and the corridor stretches endlessly in front of me.
And then… it begins.
A sharp throb pulses in my chest, stealing the air from my lungs. My vision blurs at the edges as a wave of dread washes over me. I stop abruptly, gripping the wall for balance, my hand trembling violently against it.
I try to breathe, but it feels like my lungs have forgotten how to. All I can hear is Prakash’s voice, and all I can see is his face. My knees buckle, and I stumble forward, collapsing to the floor with a soft thud. My hands press into the carpet, my fingers clawing at the fibres like a lifeline.
Closing my eyes tight, I continue to gasp for desperate gulps of air that never seem to fill my chest. Not here. Not now. Please… I beg silently, but panic roars in my ears louder and louder, drowning out any and every reason.
I don’t know how long I’m like that when a pair of warm hands cup my face.
At first, I flinch, startled. I hadn’t heard any footsteps, hadn’t sensed anyone approaching. And then, I hear his voice—low, steady, and filled with concern.
“Hey… hey, look at me.”
Slowly, my eyes, blurry with tears, flicker open and meet his.
Sidharth is kneeling in front of me, his eyes locked on mine, filled with worry. I don’t know how he found me, but right now, he’s the only thing tethering me to reality.
“Relax,” he whispers, his thumbs brushing away tears I didn’t even realise were falling. “I’ve got you. Just breathe in and out with me.”
I try to nod but am barely able to move my head. My breathing is still choppy, but I focus on him—on the calm steadiness of his voice, and on the slow rhythm of his breath as he inhales and exhales with careful control.
“In and out,” he repeats, guiding me through it, over and over, until my body starts to respond. The air finally reaches my lungs, and the tight grip around my heart eases, just a little.
“I… I’m sorry,” I finally manage to whisper, my voice cracking. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Don’t,” he cuts in gently but firmly. “Don’t apologise for your weak moment. Not with me.”
His words break something in me, not in a bad way, but in the way that envelops me in a sense of comfort.
I give him a hesitant nod, and he doesn’t press further.
Instead, he pulls me into his arms and holds me close.
For the first time in what feels like forever, I let myself lean into someone.
Let myself be held. And slowly, I begin to feel safe, like I might be okay.
Maybe not completely, but enough to stand again.
I don’t know how long we sit like that, me curled in his arms, his breath gradually syncing with mine. But eventually, I become aware of his hold, and that’s enough to jolt me back to reality. I pull away, abruptly, startled at just how safe I’d felt in his arms.
“I’m fine,” I murmur softly, trying to sound convincing even as the rawness clings to my voice.
Sidharth doesn’t say anything at first. His eyes search my face, not believing me.
“I’m fine,” I repeat, a little firmer this time.
He nods slowly. “Do you want to rest for a bit? Or go back down?”
I glance down the corridor towards the room, then back at the closed elevator doors. I swallow hard, the taste of panic still clinging in my throat.
“Down,” I reply, then quickly add, “But before that… we need to talk.”
His brows rise, but he says nothing, waiting.
“I don’t want you to tell anyone about this. Especially not Kavya. Today’s her day, and I won’t let this ruin it.”
“I understand. I won’t say a word.” He pauses, studying me for a moment before asking gently, “Nisha, how often do you get these panic attacks?”
I stiffen, looking away for a moment before meeting his gaze again. “Don’t bother. It’s my problem.”
His jaw clenches, the muscle ticking there. “Nisha, I promised Kavya I’d take care of you—”
“I’m aware you opted to look out for me,” I interrupt, sharper than I meant to. “But you don’t have to. We’ll keep up the act till Kavya is here, and once she flies to Dubai, you won’t need to check on me. Just send her your lovely little fake updates saying you did.”
His lips press into a thin line. “Thanks for the offer, but no thanks. I’m keeping my promise.”
I grit my teeth. “Stop being stubborn.”
“You stop being impossible.”
We glare at each other for a heartbeat before I look away with a huff. Looks like everyone has just one motto in life—save poor Nisha.
I turn back to him, knowing it’s futile to argue, and ask, “How are you even here? I thought you weren’t coming to the wedding.”
He raises an eyebrow. “You didn’t want me to come.”
I shake my head. “It’s not that. It’s just… you weren’t here earlier. I thought maybe you changed your mind about attending.”
“There was an urgent case that needed my attention. I rushed straight from there. Arrived barely twenty minutes ago,” he explains.
I blink. “Then how did you know I was here?”
He shrugs. “I bumped into Sunita Aunty. She said you were alone and asked me to check on you.”
I roll my eyes. “Of course she did.”
“You should know by now you’ll always get princess treatment.”
I sigh and look towards the elevator again. My pulse has steadied, and my limbs feel lighter.
“Are you sure you want to go back down?” he asks again.
I square my shoulders and rise to my feet. “Yeah. I’m sure.”
Standing tall, I look him in the eye, as if to prove, not just to him, but to myself that I can handle this. Then, without waiting for him, I turn and march towards the elevator, my steps steady and composed. He follows silently, like a shadow… whether I like it or not.