Happy reading guyss♥️
The hospital room had settled into an uneasy silence.
The girl's eyes fluttered open, unfocused at first.
A dull ache throbbed at the back of her head, slow and relentless. When she tried to move, dizziness rushed in, forcing her to stop.
White light. A smooth, unfamiliar ceiling.
Her breath caught.
A soft beeping sound echoed nearby-steady, mechanical. She turned her head slightly and winced as pain flared through her skull.
Instinctively, her hand went to her head.
Bandage.
Her fingers trembled as they brushed against the rough fabric. When she pulled them back, faint blood stains stared at her.
Her heart began to race.
She tried to sit up, panic rising sharply, but the room spun, making her gasp and fall back against the pillow.
"Easy," a gentle voice said.
She turned her head weakly.
A nurse stood beside the bed, adjusting something near the monitor. Her movements were calm, practiced.
"You're in the hospital," the nurse said softly. "You had a minor accident. Try not to move."
The smell of antiseptic filled the air.
Hospital.
The word settled heavily in her chest.
She lay still, fingers clenched around the bedsheet, fear lingering in her eyes as she stared at the ceiling-alert, unsure, and quietly terrified.
Her fingers curled into the bedsheet. She searched her mind, but everything felt blurred-like memories slipping through her grasp the harder she tried to hold them.
She swallowed. "I... I need to go."
"Not right now," the nurse replied gently. "You lost consciousness earlier. You need rest."
Her gaze darted around the room-doors, windows, corners-every movement cautious, alert.
The nurse noticed it.
"I'll call the doctor," she said, softening her tone. "You just lie still and rest, okay?"
She hesitated, then gave a small nod.
As the nurse turned and walked out, the door clicking shut behind her, the room fell silent again.
Too silent.
The door opened again.
The nurse stepped back inside, her expression more alert now. She glanced at the girl on the bed, then turned slightly toward the corridor.
"She's awake," she said softly. "You can come in."
A moment later, a woman entered first.
She wore a white coat, her hair neatly tied back, her face calm yet observant-eyes that didn't miss details. She walked in with measured steps, stopping beside the bed.
"Hi," she said gently. "I'm Dr. Pankhuri Bhardwaj."
The girl's eyes immediately fixed on her. Doctors meant safety... but also questions. Her body stiffened slightly, as if bracing herself.
Pankhuri noticed.
"You're in a hospital," she continued, keeping her voice slow and reassuring. "You had a minor accident. You're safe here."
The girl swallowed hard, her throat dry. She tried to speak, but no sound came out.
Pankhuri checked her vitals once more, slow and deliberate, careful not to overwhelm her.
"Do you feel dizzy?" she asked softly.
A faint nod.
"That's normal. You might feel weak for a while."
Before she could say anything more, footsteps followed.
Two men entered the room.
The first one-tall, broad-shouldered-stood near the foot of the bed. His presence was quiet but heavy, like the room adjusted itself around him. His face showed nothing, but his eyes studied her carefully, almost guarded.
Rudraksh Khurana.
Behind him came another man, more relaxed in posture, though concern flickered clearly on his face. He gave a quick glance at her, then at Pankhuri.
Aditya.
The moment she saw them, her breath hitched.
Her eyes widened slightly, instinctively scanning them, as if deciding whether they were a threat.
Pankhuri noticed the shift immediately.
"It's okay," she said softly. "They're the ones who brought you here after the accident."
Before the girl could respond, Aditya spoke, lifting both hands lightly in surrender.
"Relax," he said. "And please-no throwing things this time."
Her fingers curled tighter into the bedsheet.
"Adi," Pankhuri warned quietly.
"What?" he replied, completely innocent. "I'm just trying to lighten the environment."
Rudra shot him a look that clearly said now is not the time.
Aditya zipped his lips, gesturing as if locking it, and stepped back.
Pankhuri turned her attention back to the girl, her voice calm and steady.
His attempt at lightness barely landed. She didn't respond-only looked away, her jaw tightening.
Pankhuri straightened, her professional calm settling in.
"You've suffered a mild head injury," she said.
"There's nothing critical right now, but you need rest. No sudden movements."
The girl nodded faintly.
"And..." Pankhuri added gently, "...can you tell me your name?"
For a moment, it felt like she wouldn't answer.
Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, she said,
"Kinjal... Kinjal Shah."
Pankhuri moved closer, careful not to invade the small bubble of space Kinjal had created. "Can you tell me where you live? Or a family number… someone I can call?"
Kinjal swallowed hard. Her hands trembled slightly in her lap. Her gaze fell to the floor.
"I… I have no one in Mumbai. I don't know anyone here," she whispered, barely audible.
Pankhuri studied her face for a moment—the fear, the hesitation, the way her body curled inwards like she could disappear if she tried hard enough.
She didn't ask anything further.
Not now. Not yet.
Pankhuri nodded once, small and firm. She understood without words. No contacts. No family. Alone.
Pankhuri didn't ask anything further. Not now. Not in this state.
Because sometimes, silence spoke louder than questions.
She simply nodded and turned slightly toward the two men.
"Give us a moment," she said quietly. "I need to discuss something with you."
Rudra looked relieved by the excuse. Without a word, he turned and walked out. Aditya followed, glancing back once before pulling the door shut behind them.
The room fell quiet again.
Kinjal stared at the ceiling, her heartbeat still uneven-unaware that just outside the door, a decision about her next few days was about to be made.
The door closed softly behind them.
The corridor was quiet at this hour, lights dimmed, the distant sound of machines echoing faintly.
Pankhuri stopped a few steps away from the room and turned to face the two men.
Rudra spoke first.
"No."
One word. Flat. Final.
"I'll clear every bill," he continued, his voice controlled. "Get her a private nurse if you want. But she's not coming to my house."
Aditya sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Rudra-"
"This isn't my problem," Rudra cut in. "An accident happened. I did what was required. That's it."
Pankhuri didn't argue immediately. She folded her arms, studying him the way doctors do when they already know the diagnosis.
"Those injuries on her body," she said quietly, "are not from last night."
Rudra's jaw tightened. He looked away.
"She has old bruises. Defensive marks. And her fear response..." Pankhuri paused, choosing her words carefully. "It's not normal."
"So?" Rudra snapped. "That still doesn't make her my responsibility."
"It makes her vulnerable," Pankhuri replied evenly.
"Keeping her here isn't helping. Hospitals can trigger people who've been through something... severe. Too many people. Too many unfamiliar faces. For someone like her, this place can make things worse."
Aditya leaned against the wall, serious now. "She lost control here, Rudra. If that happens again at night-"
"She can be monitored," Rudra cut in.
Pankhuri met his eyes. "Then you stay here with her."
Rudra stiffened.
"No."
The word came out sharper than he intended.
Pankhuri didn't flinch. "Then take her somewhere quiet. Somewhere safe."
Rudra let out a slow breath. "You're asking me to bring a stranger into my house."
"I'm asking you to do what's best for her," Pankhuri said softly. "For now."
There was a pause.
Rudra looked away.
"I don't let people into my space," he said quietly. "Not like this."
Pankhuri spoke again, softer now.
"Just for a few days. I'll check on her daily. If she wants to leave, she leaves."
Aditya shifted uncomfortably. "She nearly panicked just seeing us," he muttered. "That wasn't drama."
Pankhuri nodded. "She needs a quiet place. Somewhere safe. Somewhere with limited people."
Rudra let out a humorless laugh. "You mean not a hospital."
"Exactly."
"Then take her to your place," he said immediately.
Pankhuri shook her head. "I can't."
"Why not?"
"I live with family. And I don't bring patients home." Her voice softened. "Especially ones this fragile."
There was a brief silence. Then Aditya spoke, practical and calm "If you look at it logically... it happened in front of your car. So in this situation, your place makes the most sense."
Silence stretched between them.
Rudra ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident now. "You're both missing the point. I don't let people into my space. I don't-" He stopped himself, inhaling sharply. "This isn't happening."
Pankhuri stepped closer, lowering her voice.
"Rudra," she said. "If we leave her alone right now-emotionally alone-she might break further."
That got his attention.
He looked at her. Really looked.
"She won't tell us what happened," Pankhuri continued. "And I won't force her. But I can tell you this-sending her out on her own tomorrow is dangerous."
Aditya added quietly, "And you're the only one who can stop that."
Rudra stared at the closed door of the room.
Inside, the girl lay unaware of the argument happening because of her.
A long moment passed.
Then, finally-
"Few days," Rudra said, his voice low. "That's it. No questions. No attachments."
Rudra closed his eyes for a brief moment.
"Guest room," he said finally. "No visitors. No interference."
Pankhuri nodded. "That's enough."
Pankhuri exhaled, relief flickering briefly across her face.
"Thank you," she said.
Rudra turned away.
"Don't thank me," he muttered. "I'm not doing this for her."
The door opened again.
Kinjal's eyes snapped toward it instantly.
Pankhuri entered first, her expression calm but thoughtful. Behind her came Aditya, quieter than before. Rudra stepped in last-hands in his pockets, face unreadable, stopping near the door instead of coming closer.
Kinjal's fingers tightened around the sheet.
She didn't like the way they were standing.
Like a decision had already been made.
Pankhuri pulled a chair and sat beside the bed, lowering herself to Kinjal's eye level.
"How are you feeling now?" she asked gently.
Kinjal hesitated. "Better," she said, though her voice lacked conviction. "I can leave tomorrow."
Pankhuri didn't correct her immediately.
"Kinjal," she said softly, "you're physically stable, yes. But you need rest. Proper rest. Not just for your body."
Kinjal's gaze dropped to her hands. "I'll manage," she said quickly. "I always do."
There it was again-that urgency. That need to escape.
Aditya shifted slightly, watching her carefully.
Pankhuri took a small breath. "We were discussing where you can stay for a few days," she said.
Kinjal looked up at once. "Stay?"
"Yes," Pankhuri nodded. "Not here. Not alone."
Kinjal shook her head immediately. "No. I don't want to go anywhere. I'll be fine."
Her voice grew firmer, defensive. "I don't need help."
Rudra remained silent, his gaze fixed on the window, as if the conversation had nothing to do with him.
Pankhuri leaned in just a little. "Kinjal, listen to me. This isn't about strength. It's about safety."
"I'm safe," Kinjal insisted, though her eyes betrayed her.
Aditya spoke carefully, keeping his tone light but sincere.
"You did faint twice already," he said. "That's your body saying otherwise."
Kinjal swallowed. "I don't... I don't have money," she said suddenly. "I can't pay for all this. Please just let me go."
Pankhuri's expression softened instantly. "This is not about money," she said firmly. "No one is asking you for anything."
Kinjal looked from her to Aditya... then, hesitantly, to Rudra.
He hadn't moved.
Pankhuri followed her gaze. "You'll stay at his place," she said calmly.
Kinjal stiffened. "No."
The refusal came instantly.
"I don't want to trouble anyone," she said, panic creeping into her voice. "I'll leave tomorrow. I promise."
Rudra finally spoke-just one sentence.
"It's temporary."
Nothing more.
No reassurance. No explanation.
Kinjal looked at him, startled by the sound of his voice. There was no warmth in it-only certainty.
Pankhuri placed a hand lightly over Kinjal's clenched fingers.
"Just a few days," she said. "Until you're better. You won't be alone. And no one will ask you questions you're not ready to answer."
Kinjal's breathing slowed slightly.
"What if I don't want to stay?" she whispered.
Pankhuri met her eyes. "Then we'll figure something else out. But right now... let us do this for you."
Silence filled the room.
Kinjal stared at the ceiling for a long moment, blinking rapidly.
Finally, she nodded-just once.
"...Okay."
Rudra exhaled quietly, almost imperceptibly.
Rudra remained standing a little away, silent, arms crossed, jaw tight. He had agreed, yes, but only because there was no alternative. The thought of someone intruding on his personal space irked him deeply, but he said nothing. Not yet.
But it was already decided.
As the nurse began preparing her discharge, none of them realised it yet - but bringing her into Rudraksh Khurana's house was going to change far more than just a few days of his life.
Decisions are made... but the real journey begins now.
Stay tuned for Chapter 3 🤍
Do vote and comment-it really helps!