“Don’t you dare come any closer,” she warned, voice trembling.
But I ignored her. My hand gripped her shoulder, turning her gently. I pressed her face against the pillow before tugging at the ties of her blouse.
Her breath hitched sharply. My fingers shivered as I began applying the ointment, slow and careful, tracing the wound. Guilt burned through me, because damn it, I was growing hard just from touching her. My fingers brushed her smooth skin, and for a fleeting second, I wanted to kiss her naked skin. But I forced myself to retreat, to keep control.
“It’ll be fine in a few days,” I muttered, staring at the scar like it was mocking me.
Kavya lay silent, her face buried in the pillow. I waited, half-expecting her to spit out something foolish, something sharp but she said nothing. Maybe I hurt her. But not more than what she did to me.
Ego shoved aside, I sank down again, my hand threading through her silky hair. I pulled the blanket over her trembling body, staying there until her breathing softened, until sleep finally claimed her.
Only then did I switch off the light and walk out quietly, leaving her in the room that used to be mine.
______
Chapter 16
KAVYA
My sister had been shifted to one of the best hospitals. The white walls, the faint scent of antiseptic, the hushed footsteps of nurses, it all felt surreal. And yet, beneath the relief of seeing her here, safe, was the bitter truth: it was all possible because of the money I got from Mr. Chauhan. His money. The very thing I despised touching, the very thing that felt like shackles around my wrists. But I had no choice. I would burn my pride a thousand times over if it meant saving Kirti. She deserved the life she had always dreamed of, even if I had to pay for it with my soul.
I sat beside her bed, my hand wrapped around hers, unwilling to let go. Her fingers were frail, her skin cool, but her grip was steady enough to remind me she was still fighting. We had been talking for an hour, and I hadn’t once loosened my hold.
"Yesterday I tried to walk," Kirti said suddenly, her voice carrying a fragile excitement. "And you know what's interesting? My heart wasn’t hurting when I was strolling." Her pale face lit up with a smile so wide it almost erased the shadows under her eyes. After a long time, I saw her eyes sparkle, a flicker of hope, the same hope that had vanished a year ago when pain became her constant companion.
My chest tightened. "That’s… that’s incredible news, isn’t it?" I whispered, squeezing her hand gently, leaning down to press a kiss against her temple. "I can’t wait to have you back home.We’ll bake your favorite cookies, dance in the living room until we collapse, and laugh until our stomachs hurt. God, there are so many things I want to do with you, like a world tour, hiking, eating golgappe until we’re sick… "
Her laughter rang out, soft but genuine. "I can’t wait to do all those things with you," she said, her voice trembling with joy.
I swallowed hard, blinking back tears. "Just always smile like that, sis," I murmured, my voice breaking as I watched her come alive again. "You’re the only family I have left in this world. You’re my everything."
Her smile faltered, her gaze piercing mine. "How about your new family? How about your husband?" she asked quietly. Her words carried weight, as though she was peeling back the layers I had so carefully hidden. "Are you not happy, Kav?"
I forced a laugh, desperate to mask the storm inside me. "Are you crazy?" I held out my hand, flashing the diamond ring that glittered under the hospital lights. "Look at this diamond. I hadn’t even seen a real one until my husband gave it to me. Why wouldn’t any woman be happy with all this money and jewelry?"
Kirti winced, her expression pained. "Kav, you sound like a gold-digger. Which of course you’re not. And I’m not talking about money or jewelry. I’m talking about …" She paused, her breath shallow, gathering strength. "Are you happy? Like, truly happy?"
Her question sliced through me like a blade. My throat tightened. "Yes," I said sharply, almost defensively. "I’m genuinely happy. I got the husband I dreamed of every night, and my father-in-law is a kind person."
But even as the words left my lips, Mr. Chauhan’s voice from that phone call echoed in my mind. Was he really kind? Or was I just clinging to illusions because the truth was too terrifying to face?
I had told Kirti everything except everything. I painted her pictures of my wedding day, my first night, the kitchen ritual, the party. She soaked up every word, smiling, living vicariously through my stories. But I kept the shadows hidden. She didn’t need to know the cracks in my world.
The doctor appeared, his tone firm, reminding me that my visiting time was over. My heart sank. I promised Kirti I would visit every week, though I wished I could see her every day. But her fragile heart couldn’t bear too much strain. Even speaking caused her pain. The more she rested, the quicker she would heal.
I stepped out of her room, my heart heavy yet strangely hopeful after seeing her smile again. But the moment I turned the corner, my breath caught.
Abhiraj Sisodiya.
He was a wreck—crutches under his arms, one eye swollen and red, nose broken, his right arm plastered and hanging from his neck. For a fleeting second, pity brushed against me. But it vanished as quickly as it came, replaced by a surge of satisfaction.
"Hey…" he tried to smile, but his jaw protested, twisting his face in pain.
I ignored him, walking past, but his voice carried down the corridor.
"I’m sorry for what I did yesterday."
My fists clenched. Nurses turned their heads curiously.