The room was silent, yet my mind was anything but. I tossed and turned on my bed, trying to find a comfortable position, but sleep refused to come. My head throbbed—not just from exhaustion but from the lingering frustration of the day's events.
I sat up with an irritated sigh, raking my fingers through my hair, making it messier than before. The dim glow of my bedside lamp cast shadows on the walls, but they weren't as haunting as the thoughts swirling in my mind.
Kathir Rathore.
His words had stuck to me like glue. "You remind me of someone."
But who? And why did it seem to make him so… angry? Was it someone from his past? An ex-lover? A family member? My brain kept spinning, searching for answers in a puzzle I didn't have the pieces to solve.
"Ughhh." I exhaled loudly and blew a strand of hair away from my face. No matter how much I tried to shake it off, his words kept replaying.
Annoyed, I reached for my phone, grabbed the earphones from beside my pillow, and plugged them in. Music. That was my escape. I scrolled through my playlist and hit play, the soothing melody washing over me as I lay back down, closing my eyes. My phone rested on my stomach, rising and falling with every breath I took.
Eventually, sleep found me.
The faint chirping of birds stirred me awake. Sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting golden streaks across my room. I blinked lazily, rubbing my eyes before stretching my arms over my head.
A yawn escaped my lips as I got out of bed and grabbed a towel, making my way to the bathroom. The warm water cascaded down my skin, washing away the remnants of sleep. I let my thoughts drift for a moment before stepping out and wrapping myself in a towel.
Once dressed in a dark orange blouse and dark blue jeans, I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting my hair. My reflection stared back at me, looking just as confused as I felt.
"What's for breakfast today?" I muttered under my breath, hoping food would be enough to distract me from my overthinking.
Shaking my head, I quickly applied makeup, spritzed on my favorite perfume, and grabbed my bag before heading out.
The office was buzzing with the usual morning energy, but my attention was elsewhere. As I walked toward my desk, I caught sight of Kathir and Mr. Rawther in conversation. My steps slowed involuntarily.
Kathir's sharp gaze flickered toward me.
My breath hitched.
His eyes darkened for a split second, and I could feel my pulse quicken. It was just a glance—brief and unreadable—but it dragged me back to yesterday's confrontation.
I forced myself to look away, pretending not to care. Mr. Rawther spoke again, and Kathir turned his attention back to him. I exhaled sharply, rolling my eyes as I entered my office.
Enough.
I needed to know.
Three hours in front of the monitor felt like a lifetime. My fingers ached from typing, and my eyes burned from staring at the screen. I sighed, stretching my arms before reaching for my water bottle.
"The job will be finished in fifteen minutes!" Emma's cheerful voice broke my daze.
I turned to her and gave a small nod. But before I could respond, a guy walked in, dropping a stack of files onto Emma's desk.
"Give these to Mr. Kathir," he ordered. "And don't be late."
As he left, Emma hesitated, staring at the files like they were a death sentence. Her face paled, and she gulped visibly.
I didn't blame her. Everyone in the office knew how terrifying Kathir's mood swings could be.
I saw the worry in her eyes and smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, Emma. Give me the files—I'll take them to him."
Her gaze flickered between me and the files. "Are you sure?"
I nodded confidently. "Yes."
Hesitantly, she handed them over. I took a deep breath, gripping the files tightly as I left the office.
Standing outside Kathir's door, I hesitated.
I could still turn back.
But I had to know.
Exhaling, I knocked.
"Come in," came his voice from inside.
I pushed the door open and stepped in.
Kathir sat in his chair, leaning back with a glass of wine in hand. He swirled it slowly, the deep red liquid catching the light. He didn't look up as I walked toward his desk, my nerves prickling under my skin.
I placed the files down carefully. "Good evening, sir. Here are the files."
He nodded, taking a slow sip.
Silence.
He still didn't look at me.
I clenched my fingers into a fist, debating if I should speak. My heart pounded, but my curiosity outweighed my fear.
"What?" He finally turned to me, eyebrows furrowed.
My stomach twisted. He looked… irritated.
But I had come this far.
I inhaled sharply, pushing past my nerves. "Yesterday, you told me that I remind you of someone." My voice wavered slightly, but I continued. "May I know… who that person is?"
The air in the room shifted.
His jaw clenched. His grip on the wine glass tightened. And when his eyes locked onto mine, the intensity made my breath hitch.
"Get out."
The command was sharp. Final.
But I wasn't leaving. Not without an answer.
"No, sir," I said, straightening my spine. "I won't leave until you tell me who I remind you of. At least let me know why."
His expression darkened. "I said get out."
His voice was louder this time. His fingers curled as if restraining himself. My heart jumped in my chest, but I stood my ground.
He started to get up.
I took a step back instinctively. Was he really going to—
The phone on his desk rang.
His glare didn't waver as he reached for it, answering in his usual clipped tone.
"Kathir Rathore speaking."
A beat of silence.
Then—
"What?" His voice dropped, laced with shock.
I watched as something shifted in his expression. His fingers tightened around the phone, his throat bobbing as he swallowed.
His posture stiffened. His eyes flashed with something unfamiliar—concern? Worry? Fear?
I had no idea what was being said on the other end, but whatever it was, it had shaken him.
He didn't say another word before hanging up.
Without so much as a glance in my direction, he strode toward the door, his movements tense.
I stood there, confused and breathless.
Why was he suddenly in such a rush?
What had happened?
My feet moved before I could think. I hurried after him, running past confused employees. I didn't care who was watching.
By the time I reached his car, he was already opening the door.
Without hesitation, I grabbed the handle, yanked the door open, and slipped inside before he could stop me.
Panting, I turned to face him.
Kathir looked at me, his eyes filled with something unreadable.
Shock.
Annoyance.
And something deeper, hidden beneath the surface.
"What the hell are you doing?" he finally demanded, his glare burning into me.
I wasn't sure what I was doing.
But I knew one thing.
I wasn't letting him leave without knowing the truth.
No, I won't leave you until you give me the answer."
My voice came out steady, but my fingers tightened around the seatbelt, betraying the nervousness bubbling inside me. Kathir's sharp glare pinned me in place, his jaw clenching as he exhaled through his nose.
I swallowed hard but held my ground.
"Don't make me angry, Vidya," he warned, his voice low, almost dangerous.
I met his gaze, my heart hammering in my chest, but I refused to back down. "Stop wasting your time arguing with me."
A tense silence stretched between us. Then, without another word, Kathir turned back to the wheel and started the car. The engine roared to life, and in the next second, the car sped forward with an urgency that sent my pulse racing.
Where was he going?
More importantly, why had I jumped into his car without thinking?
What if he took me somewhere and left me stranded? The thought made my stomach twist. I turned slightly, stealing a glance at him, only to freeze.
His eyes were filled with tears.
I sucked in a sharp breath, quickly looking away, my fingers gripping my seatbelt. The sight of him—so strong yet silently breaking—stirred something deep within me.
Who had called him? What had happened?
Minutes passed in heavy silence until the car screeched to a stop. I glanced up, and my heart clenched.
A hospital.
Kathir unfastened his seatbelt and stepped out in a hurry, not even glancing in my direction.
Before he could lock the doors, I threw mine open and rushed out, my breath uneven as I ran after him.
"Ka-Kathir, sir, where are you going?"
He didn't answer. He walked fast, his long strides making it hard for me to keep up. I matched his pace, determined not to lose him.
As we turned a corner, we reached a dimly lit hospital hallway. Two familiar figures stood there—one was the uncle I had seen at the party with Kathir, and beside him stood Raj.
Kathir barely stopped before demanding, "What happened to Mom?"
His voice wasn't just urgent—it was filled with something raw. Fear.
Both men turned toward him, and as soon as Kathir's father laid eyes on him, his expression darkened.
"Who the hell asked you to come here?" Charan spat, stepping forward aggressively.
I stood frozen, watching in shock. The pieces clicked in my head—this man wasn't just anyone. He was Kathir's father Charan Rathore.
But why was he looking at his own son with such hatred?
Kathir clenched his jaw, his breathing uneven. "I want to see my mom."
His voice broke slightly at the end, and I saw it—the desperation in his eyes.
Raj rubbed his forehead, looking stressed, like he didn't know how to control the situation.
"You're not allowed to see my wife!" Charan thundered. "And remember one thing—because of you, she is suffering right now."
A sharp gasp left my lips.
Kathir shut his eyes tightly, his hands curling into fists. When he opened them again, they were burning with unshed tears.
"I want to see my mom," he repeated, his voice lower, angrier.
"She is not your mom!" Charan snapped, stepping closer. "She is my wife."
His words echoed in the hallway, thick with hostility.
Raj immediately placed a hand on Charan's shoulder, trying to calm him. "Uncle, please allow him."
"Never, Raj!" Charan barked, making Raj lower his head.
My throat felt dry as I turned to Kathir. A single tear rolled down his cheek, and it shattered me.
Charan's voice cut through the air again, "I won't allow you to see my wife! Get out of here!"
Kathir took a step forward, his entire body radiating tension. Raj reached for him, probably to stop him, but I knew—Kathir wouldn't back down.
He would do anything to see his mother.
And I couldn't just stand here and watch him suffer.
I gathered every ounce of courage I had and spoke up. "Si-Sir, if you don't allow Kathir, sir, to meet his mother, it means that you're punishing your wife."
Silence.
Three pairs of eyes snapped toward me.
Kathir looked at me in shock, his lips parting slightly. His father's glare was sharp enough to cut through steel. My stomach twisted, but I held my ground.
"What do you mean?" Charan demanded.
I took a deep breath. "Sir, you know that your wife loves her son more than anything. Right now, she must be waiting to see him, hoping for it with all her heart. If you don't allow him, she will be devastated. It doesn't matter how much you hate him—your wife loves him more than your hatred. Please don't disappoint her. She needs him at this time."
I turned to Kathir, who was still staring at me, his expression unreadable. Then, I glanced at Charan. His jaw was tight, his nostrils flaring. His eyes flickered to Kathir before he clenched them shut and exhaled sharply.
Without another word, he turned and walked away.
Raj hesitated for a moment before following him.
Kathir's shoulders sagged slightly, and without sparing me a glance, he turned on his heels and walked toward his mother's room.
And just like that, I was left standing alone in the vast, empty hospital hall.
I leaned against the wall, pressing my palm against my racing heart.
I had no idea where I had found the bravery to speak up against Charan uncle.
But one thing was certain—sometimes, seeing Kathir cry hurt more than I could explain.
Because I understood.
I understood the pain of not being able to see our mothers when they were sick.
And no matter what, I had to see how his mom was doing.
Sighing, I made my way to the hospital room, hesitating for a second before slowly pushing the door open. A faint beeping sound filled the dimly lit space, the scent of antiseptic thick in the air. My heart clenched as I peeked inside.
Kathir's mother lay on the bed, her frail body barely moving under the weight of the oxygen mask strapped over her nose and mouth. The rhythmic rise and fall of her chest were painfully slow. Across from her, Kathir sat hunched in a chair, his fingers gently running through her hair as if trying to soothe her in her sleep. His shoulders were slumped, his head slightly bowed, and though I couldn't see his face clearly, I could feel the weight of his emotions from where I stood.
I stepped inside cautiously, my heartbeat quickening as I moved closer.
"M-mom, look at me, Mom... Your son Kathir has arrived. I-I'm sorry, Mom."
His voice was barely above a whisper, fragile and trembling, but the raw pain in his tone struck me like a dagger. My breath hitched when I saw him lower his head onto the bed, his body shaking as he sobbed.
"Please look at me, Mom," he pleaded, his fingers gripping the bedsheet tightly. His voice cracked with helplessness, each syllable heavy with sorrow.
I swallowed hard, my own chest tightening at the sight. I had never seen him like this before—so vulnerable, so broken. It hurt to watch, but I couldn't just stand there.
Slowly, I reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, bracing myself for a possible outburst. I knew he might push me away, might even lash out in anger, but I couldn't let him go through this alone.
Kathir lifted his head slightly, turning to look at me. His eyes—red and glassy, overflowing with pain—met mine, and my breath caught in my throat. His usual sharp gaze was gone, replaced by something fragile and lost. His nose and ears had turned pink from the overwhelming rush of emotions, his lips slightly parted as if he wanted to say something but couldn't.
"She will be fine," I murmured, offering him the only comfort I could. "She loves you so much, Kathir sir. If she wakes up and sees you like this, she'll be happy… she'll be relieved."
A silent tear rolled down his cheek, and he slowly nodded, though his gaze remained distant. Without thinking, I reached out and wiped the tear away with my thumb. The warmth of his skin beneath my touch sent a strange jolt through me, but I ignored it. This moment wasn't about me.
"Please don't cry," I whispered, my voice barely steady. "You have to be strong for her."
Kathir let out a shaky breath and clenched his jaw. "I've tried," he admitted, his voice breaking. "But I can't. Her condition is scaring me, Vidya. What if…" His words faltered, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. "What if something happens? What will I do?"
Panic flared in his wide, desperate eyes, and I quickly shook my head.
"No," I said firmly. "Don't think like that, sir. Nothing is going to happen. You can't let fear win."
I rubbed small circles on his back, hoping to calm him down. But his breathing was still uneven, his mind still clouded with fear. His hands clenched into fists, his body visibly tensing.
"Kathir sir… are you okay?" I asked cautiously.
Before I could process what was happening, he suddenly wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me into a tight embrace. My eyes widened in shock, my body stiffening at the unexpected warmth of his hold.
He buried his face against my shoulder, his grip around me desperate, as if he was clinging to the only thing keeping him from falling apart completely.
I wanted to step back, to tell him this was inappropriate, but I couldn't. Not when he was trembling like this. Not when he was silently pleading for comfort.
A pang of something unexplainable settled in my chest as I hesitantly lifted my hand and ruffled his hair. "Don't worry, sir," I whispered, my voice softer than before. "She will be okay."
For a brief moment, he stayed still, letting the comfort sink in. But then—almost as quickly as he had embraced me—he pushed me away.
Startled, I stumbled back slightly, my eyes wide with confusion.
Kathir stood up abruptly, wiping the tears off his face with the back of his hand. His entire body had tensed, his jaw clenched so tight that I could see the muscles twitch. His usual glare was back, his eyes burning with a mix of anger and something else I couldn't quite read.
I barely had time to say anything before he turned on his heel and strode out of the room without a word.
"Kathir, sir, wait!" I called out, but he was already gone.
I turned to his mother, still lying motionless on the bed, then back toward the door. The hospital hallway felt vast and empty as I stepped outside, my heartbeat loud in my ears.
Panic set in when I realized he was nowhere to be seen.
I rushed down the hall, then out to the hospital entrance, only to catch sight of his car speeding away.
"Kathir, sir, wait!" I shouted, my voice getting lost in the night air.
But he was already gone, leaving me standing there in the cold, utterly confused.