After five long days, the exhaustion clings to my body like a second skin, but seeing my mother in this state immediately pushes my fatigue to the back of my mind. As I descend the stairs, my gaze lands on her frail form resting on the sofa. The usual warmth in her eyes is missing, replaced by an unsettling pallor. The dim glow of the evening light filtering through the windows only accentuates the tired lines on her face.
A deep frown etches onto my forehead as I move towards her, my steps quickening.
"Mom, are you okay? You don't look well today," I ask softly, my voice laced with concern.
She looks up at me, her expression weary yet gentle. I sit beside her, taking her arm in my hands, feeling how cold her skin is.
"I feel so tired and dizzy," she murmurs, closing her eyes briefly as if even speaking drains her energy. "I think it's because I haven't taken my medicine... and now it's finished."
I let out a slow sigh, realizing she had run out of her medication and hadn't told me. My fingers tighten around her arm in silent frustration-not at her, but at the situation.
"Why didn't you tell me, Mom?" I ask, trying to keep my voice even.
She exhales weakly, her tone carrying a hint of helplessness. "I told your brother, but I think he forgot. And you... you come home so late these days, I didn't get a chance to tell you."
Her words sting. A flicker of guilt spreads through my chest. Have I really been so absent that she couldn't even ask me for something as important as her medicine?
Shaking off the thoughts, I gently help her sit up straighter. "Alright! Let's go to the hospital now and get your medicine, okay?"
She nods, and I waste no time calling for a taxi.
The drive to the hospital is quiet, save for the occasional sound of passing traffic. My mother leans against the window, her eyes half-lidded with exhaustion. I glance at her now and then, my fingers tapping anxiously on my lap.
At the hospital, after registering her name, we wait for the doctor to call her in. The scent of antiseptic lingers in the air, and the occasional murmur of hushed conversations drifts through the waiting area. When the doctor finally calls her, I help her up, watching as she disappears into the treatment room.
I let out a deep breath and sink into a chair, flipping my hair back as I scan the room.
That's when I see him.
Or rather, him.
Kathir's father, Charan.
Even in the hospital, he walks with an air of authority, his crisp white shirt neatly pressed, his phone clutched firmly in one hand as he strides toward the lift. His face is unreadable, but there's a weight in his expression-subtle, but present.
My brows draw together as recognition clicks in my mind. Isn't Kathir's mom admitted here?
I chew the inside of my cheek, debating. Should I go and visit her? Even if Kathir sir doesn't know, it wouldn't hurt to check on her, right?
Before I can dwell on the thought any longer, a door opens to my left, pulling my attention back. The doctor steps out, scanning the room before spotting me. I immediately rise to my feet.
"Nothing to worry about!" he assures me with a small nod. "Your mom just needs enough rest. We've given her a sleeping pill, and you can take her home once she wakes up."
Relief floods my chest, easing the tension in my shoulders. "Sure! Thank you, Doctor."
He gives me a polite nod before walking away, leaving me standing there with a newfound sense of calm. My mother is fine-that's all that matters.
But my eyes drift back toward the lift.
I hesitate for a brief moment before exhaling deeply. Maybe just a quick visit.
With that thought in mind, I stride toward the lift and press the button. The metallic doors slide open with a soft ding, and I step inside, pressing the button for the seventh floor.
As the lift begins its slow ascent, I feel a strange anticipation settle in my chest.
As the lift doors slide open, a cool rush of air greets me. My heart pounds as I step out, my fingers curling into the fabric of my dress. The seventh floor is eerily quiet, save for the faint beeping of machines from the patient rooms. I take a deep breath, steadying my nerves before walking towards Kathir's mom's room.
Just as I reach the door, I spot Raj and Kathir's father, Charan, engaged in conversation. Charan's imposing presence makes me hesitate for a split second, but I shake off my hesitation and approach them.
"H-Hi, Uncle. Hi," I stammer, my voice softer than I intended.
Both men turn to look at me. Raj's brows knit together in recognition, and just as he opens his mouth-
"Hi-aren't you the girl who came with Ka-"
I widen my eyes in silent panic. Raj stops mid-sentence as he notices Charan's questioning gaze on me.
Charan's brows furrow. "Who are you, girl? Raj, who is this?"
Raj quickly places a reassuring hand on Charan's shoulder, flashing an easy smile. "Oh, she's my friend. Her name is..."
"V-Vidya," I blurt out before he can slip up.
Raj nods, catching on immediately. "Ah yes, Vidya! You told me you was having some body pain, so I asked her to help keep an eye on Renu Aunty while we take a break."
I nod eagerly, forcing a polite smile at Charan. "Yes! Don't worry, Uncle. I can take care of her."
Inside, my stomach churns with nerves, but I keep my posture composed. Charan studies me for a moment, his sharp gaze making me feel like he can see right through me. Finally, he gives a curt nod.
"Fine," he mutters.
Raj and I exhale in unison, both relieved. He quickly wraps an arm around Cheran's shoulder and leads him away, glancing at me over his shoulder with a subtle nod of approval. I nod back, grateful for his quick thinking.
Once they disappear down the corridor, I let out a long breath before pushing open the door to the hospital room.
The room is quiet, save for the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor. The scent of antiseptic lingers in the air, mixed with the faint aroma of fresh flowers placed on the bedside table. Kathir's mother lies still on the bed, her face peaceful yet pale.
A pang of sympathy tugs at my chest as I step closer. Gently, I take her hand in mine, her fingers cold to the touch.
"You're so beautiful," I murmur, offering a small smile. "I'm sure you'll get well soon."
I hesitate before continuing, my voice soft. "Do you know something, Aunty? Your son loves you so much. He'd cry if anything happened to you..."
The image of his arrogant face flashes in my mind, and I roll my eyes instinctively. "Hmm... I agree, he's arrogant, rude, and creepy."
I freeze. What am I saying?!
Realizing I just insulted her son to her face-albeit while she's unconscious-I bite my bottom lip in regret. I quickly backtrack.
"Well... no, I just-I know to you, he's the best son in the world! Isn't he?" I laugh nervously.
Then, a deep voice cuts through the air, sending a shiver down my spine.
"What the...?"
I stiffen, my breath hitching. Slowly, I turn my head, and my jaw nearly drops.
Kathir Rathore stands at the doorway, his dark eyes locked onto me with burning intensity. His jaw is clenched, his hands curled into fists. The air in the room suddenly feels suffocating.
"Ka-Kathir sir?" I whisper.
His expression darkens. "How dare you?"
He takes a step forward, but his gaze flickers to his mother for a brief second before he storms toward me. Before I can react, he grabs my arm in a bruising grip and drags me out of the room.
The moment we step into the hallway, he shoves me against the wall.
"Ouch!" I wince as my back hits the cold surface.
His face is inches from mine, his breath warm against my skin. His dark eyes blaze with fury.
"What are you doing here?" he demands, his voice dangerously low.
I swallow hard. "M-my mom got sick, so I brought her here, an-"
"If your mom is sick, then take care of her!" he snaps. "Why did you come here?"
His tone is harsh, his grip unrelenting. Frustration surges through me.
"Come on, Mr. Kathir!" I exclaim, rolling my eyes. "I know your mom was admitted here, and I just wanted to check on her condition. You didn't even want to tell me how she's doing."
He scoffs. "Who the hell are you to me? Who the hell are you to know about my mom's condition?"
Before I can respond, he tightens his hold on my arms and leans in, his voice turning dangerously sharp.
"You don't have the right to talk about me or my mom."
I flinch as his voice shakes with restrained anger. But I refuse to back down.
"Stop hurting me!" I hiss. "I'm no one to you... But-but I have humanity. I'm just visiting your mom as a human being. It's in my nature."
"Human being, huh?" His grip tightens even more, and I wince.
"Ouch!" I grit my teeth against the pain and glare up at him.
A bitter laugh escapes me. "Of course, you wouldn't know what it means to be human."
His eyes flicker-rage, hurt, something unspoken simmering beneath his furious exterior.
I press on. "How would you know? You even let your mom suffer in pain! As her son, you should be by her side, but look at you, suc-"
Before I can finish, his fist slams into the wall beside my face.
I gasp, my entire body jolting at the impact. The sound echoes through the empty hallway.
I dare to glance up at him, my breath caught in my throat. His chest rises and falls heavily, his hands trembling at his sides. His eyes-usually cold and unreadable-are now glistening with unshed tears.
My anger falters.
"Actually, Ka-"
"If you want your mom to be safe, get out of here."
I freeze. My heartbeat stops for a second.
"What?" I whisper in disbelief.
He exhales sharply, his face darkening further. "I can kill anyone without a second thought, just like you said. If you want to see your mom alive and safe, you'd better leave."
A chill runs down my spine. My lips part, but no words come out.
He steps closer, his hand gripping my wrist painfully as he leans down. His furious, reddened eyes bore into mine.
"Stay out of my personal life."
With that, he shoves me away. My feet stumble, and I crash onto the cold floor.
As he turns on his heel and strides back into the room.
Tears well up in my eyes, but I quickly wipe them away. With shaky hands, I push myself up, adjust my clothes, and take a deep breath.
Without another glance back, I turn and walk away, my vision blurred by the tears I refuse to let fall.
At night, I sit on my bed, hugging a pillow tightly, my mind trapped in the haunting memories of the hospital. The sterile white walls, the scent of antiseptic, the cold dread that settled in my chest-all of it replays like a cruel loop.
The door creaks open.
"Vidya, where is-"
Vino's voice trails off mid-sentence. I turn to look at her, my lips parting, but no words come out. She takes one look at my face, at the unshed tears brimming in my eyes, and immediately understands something is wrong. Without another word, she steps inside, quietly shutting the door behind her.
She sits beside me on the bed, her warmth a stark contrast to the cold numbness pressing against my skin.
"Vidya, are you okay?" she asks softly, her voice laced with concern.
I try to speak, but my throat tightens. My eyes sting, and before I can stop myself, tears spill down my cheeks.
"Hey, what happened?" Vino's eyes widen in shock as she watches me break down. "Why are you crying?"
I wipe my tears hastily, swallowing down the lump in my throat, and finally find my voice.
"I feel... mentally exhausted."
Vino's brows furrow. "What are you saying? What do you mean?"
She grips my shoulders, her hold firm yet comforting, silently urging me to explain. And so, I do.
I tell her everything-about the hospital incident, the reason I'm still working for him, the way he holds Sanjay's project over my head like a noose. Each word feels heavier than the last, yet I force myself to lay it all bare.
When I finally finish, Vino just stares at me, blinking in disbelief. A long sigh escapes her lips.
"Wait... all this happened, and you didn't say a word?" She shakes her head in frustration. "Vidya, do you remember our promise? We're not supposed to hide anything from each other!"
"I haven't forgotten," I whisper, my voice barely audible. "I just... I didn't want to worry you."
Vino lets out another sigh, rubbing her temple.
"Come on, Vidya!" Her tone sharpens, not out of anger but sheer exasperation. "This isn't your dream job. You don't belong there!"
I lower my head, my fingers tightening around the fabric of my pillow.
"You're studying to be a nutritionist," she continues, her voice softer now but no less firm. "That's your goal. You've worked so hard for it! But look at you now-working for him? In a job that has nothing to do with your degree?"
I exhale slowly, trying to steady myself.
"What's done is done," I murmur. "There's nothing we can do about it now."
Vino scoffs, rolling her eyes.
"You just sacrificed your dream for your brother's project!" She shakes her head. "It's not fair, Vidya. It's not fair at all."
I lift my gaze, a small, tired smile forming on my lips.
"My brother has done so much for us," I say softly. "In return, I just helped him achieve his dream. It's nothing compared to everything he's done for me. And... I'll escape from that office one day. I promise."
Vino watches me closely, as if searching for any sign of hesitation. Finally, she sighs again, this time in defeat. But then, her expression hardens.
"This is your last warning," she says, poking my arm for emphasis. "If he hurts you again, I swear I'll hit him harder with a wooden log."
The seriousness in her tone catches me off guard, and despite the ache in my chest, a chuckle escapes my lips.
"I'll be right there with you," I say, wiping my own tears away.
Vino grins. "That's my girl."
She pulls me into a hug, and for the first time in what feels like forever, I allow myself to breathe.