"You can't patch a wounded soul with a Band-Aid."

― Michael Connelly, The Black Echo

* * * *

Apologies for the delay, hope that the length of the chapter will make up for the tardiness... ;)

* * *

Suman didn't know what time it was, she just knew that it was late, very late, and Shravan still was missing...

Ever since Kamini had walked out of the door, she had been trying to stop the tears of despair falling from her eyes, her breath from stucked in her throat, her hands from trembling, yet it seemed like she couldn't do anything right...

She had never been good at expressing her, especially when it came to him. There had been times when things between them had been good, when he had been within her reach, by her side, and during those times, she had been able to word her feelings and her thoughts, and now, fearing that he would keep drifting away from her, she had married him to have him within her reach...

But now it felt like he still was unreachable, more than ever, in every way...

Drawing her knees together, Suman rested her cheek on them in a desolated silence, her mind still unable to accept that marrying him may not be the right solution to the challenges pillared up between them. How to reach him, how to make him talk to her, how to make him come back to her? There were so many questions she had been asking herself from past months and had wished that after their marriage, Shravan would be within her reach to get the answers, yet now, on their wedding night, he felt farther away than he had ever been...

She felt trapped and perhaps suffocated. The more she thought about it, the more gnarly the world around her appeared...

Them getting married was supposed to help. Shravan was supposed to be here, with her, and he was supposed to listen to her, believe in her, and trust her. He was supposed to let her talk to him, heal him, and then move forward together...

Yet here she was, alone and left behind on their wedding night...

After what seemed like hours Suman stood up on her shaky legs and moved towards the window, hoping that the fresh air from the garden would make the suffocation go away, but when she looked down from the window, she found him...

There he was, sitting on the bench, nearly invisible, donning black, he looked like a part of the darkness he was surrounded by. He sat there still like a statue, seemingly unaffected by the cold night, or was he frozen by it? She thought, worried, and before she could turn around and go to him, someone else walked to him to snap him out of his frozen state...

'Of course, Ramnaath Malhotra would reach him before I could,' she thought in bitterness...

But when she saw Shravan harshly rubbing his eyes and being comforted by his father, Suman felt a sense of defeat as she never had before. He was crying, Shravan was crying. He was sitting outside in the dark cold night, crying just after a few hours of being married to her. And suddenly she was reminded of Pushkar's words;

You are going to trap him?

A cage? Is this what this marriage is going to be for him?

Is this why he looks like he can't breathe?

He looks like he is being pushed into hell,

You are going to regret it,

She had been so sure, so sure that marrying him was the best solution, the only option, yet Shravan had walked away as soon as they had been left alone in the room as if their togetherness suffocated him, as if he felt trapped...

Suman felt the sudden burden of her dying hope on her shaking shoulders, unable to carry the burden of her shaking belief that things would get better, her hope that finally now she would be able to achieve the happiness that their togetherness should have brought to both of them. Clearly, it was a facade, a lie she had told herself. Because it seemed like Shravan hadn't been wrong when he had told her that he no longer felt anything for her...

Grief-stricken Suman closed her eyes, shaking her head before letting out a shuddering sigh. Backing away from the window, she walked to the dressing table and slowly put away the jewelry she had worn in the hope to look beautiful for him, uselessly, as he had not even looked at her way, not even once...

And now when she looked down at herself, suddenly a burning desire lit up her insides; she wanted to put the red bridal lehenga she was wearing and had selected carefully keeping him in mind, on fire. Burn it along with her hope. And even though she didn't want to cry anymore, tears refused to stop falling from her eyes. In a burst of pain, Suman snatched and ripped off whatever she had on, threw her bangles on the mirror, uncaring as they broke into small pieces and covered the whole surface of the dressing table.

Panting heavily as she trembled and shivered, Suman realized that it was a matter of time, Kamini Malhotra was right. Ramnaath Malhotra soon would realize that she was a fraud, that she had given him the false hope of giving him back his son, and that their marriage was nothing but a trap for Shravan, a sham and nothing more...

And by now, Shravan must have already told his father that he felt trapped, by now Ramnaath must have already realized it, and there was nothing that she could do other than tremble at every step of theirs, anticipate the end of their marriage before it even has started and fear, fear every second, with every breath...

* * * *

"Are you crying, Shravan?"

He was snapped out of his absent-mindedness when he heard his father ask him something he had been unaware of doing.

"I didn't realize that, sorry," he muttered before pressing the back of his hands on his eyes and harshly wiping away the water that continuously kept slipping away from his eyes. It was probably due to tiredness and lack of sleep, he assured his father.

Hearing the excuse, with a heavy heart Ramnaath walked into the darkest area of the garden and sat next to his son. With confusion clouding his mind, he wondered, what was his son doing out in the cold during the first night of his wedding?

"I thought that you would be the happiest tonight, that tonight would be the happiest night of your life," Ramnaath whispered with a frown, puzzled at why did his son still looked so heartbroken?

Why was his child still unhappy?

"At some point in my life, I had believed the same. It would have been..." he responded as he looked in the darkness.

"Why, Shravan?" Ramnaath asked helplessly.

"I don't know, maybe I like being miserable, maybe it's self-imposed," he wondered out loud.

Ramnaath didn't know what to do more, what to do to just get back his Shravan, and not this broken version of him. This young man with an old soul, tired body, and dead eyes, he wasn't his Shravan. What else should he do more to get his Shravan back?

"I let this happen, I made this happen for you, only for your happiness," Ramnaath clarified with a heavy heart.

"Maybe I am just an ungrateful brat, I am sorry, Papa," Shravan mechanically muttered what he thought his father wanted to hear.

It's something he had always done, knew how to do better than breathing; telling his people what they wanted to hear from him, doing whatever they wanted him to do. He always had been such a people pleaser; giving in with a smile and hiding away his pain and his true broken self, enduring for the love for his people. And even now, when things were so blurry, and he felt as if he was underwater, lost in a place from where he couldn't get out, his people's voices still reached him, and he still responded as he always had; say things that they would want to hear, do things they want him to do...

It was a habit he had tried so hard to let go of, so hard to break off from, yet it had seemed impossible to achieve, and he had found no peace until he gave in once again...

"No, no, son. You aren't. You are too good and I was never worthy of your goodness. I am sorry, so sorry, for everything," Ramnaath pleaded, apologizing.

"It's okay, please, stop apologizing," Shravan whispered what he had been repeating ever since his father had started to apologize.

There was just something so heartbreaking when his father did that, it made him feel uncomfortable, guilty, and regret everything as if he was being unnecessary cold and heartless...

And that wasn't what he wanted to be...

"Tell me, son, what do you want me to do and I will do it. I will do anything for you, for your happiness," his father whispered with sincerity.

'Nothing,' Shravan wanted to tell him, there was nothing he or anyone else could do for him to feel the happiness that wasn't there, wasn't meant to be his. But he couldn't be cruel enough to tell his father how helpless his situation was, so he didn't. Instead, he leaned his head on his father's wide shoulders as he used to when he was a child and let him wrap his arms around him and console him. It was more for his father than him, he just had to stay still and let his father run his fingers in his hair to his heart's content...

"Everything will alright, Shravan, just give it a little bit of time, you will see," his father kept assuring him.

"Just give you both some time, talk to her, listen to her, let her know your thoughts, communicate with her, and everything will be fine, you will see,"

As he heard his father muttering those words, again and again, he couldn't tell if his father was assuring himself or him...

But that was okay, Shravan knew how terrified his father was of history repeating itself. But it won't, he knew that. His father had had a real marriage before it was broken while his marriage wasn't a marriage to begin with. They were just buying some time, so whenever Suman would find a good man, or when she would once again realize that he wasn't enough, not what he was perceived by her, when she would admit that he wasn't who she wanted - and she never had wanted him to begin with - she would walk away and everyone will know the truth of their marriage.

He just hoped it would be soon, or maybe he didn't. He didn't know. He knew nothing now. The concept of everything was lost to him...

He just hoped it wouldn't hurt much. That finally now his heart was broken enough and broken enough times for him to stop hurting when he would be left behind...

"And what are you both doing here at this hour?" Suddenly they heard Lala Ji ask them.

"Shravan, it's your Suhagraat, you are married and old enough to not hide behind your father, come one, go to your room," Lala Ji chided him.

"Oh, before I forget, take this, Shravan," his father told him as he pulled a red and gold box from the inner pocket of his coat.

"With all the extra work you had shouldered between the preparation to free me and Pushkar, I thought you wouldn't have had time to shop for a muuh dikhai gift yourself, so I bought something," Ramnaath said with a half-smile.

"Hey, Shravan, open it before you take it to her, see if it's something she would like, if not then we will figure out what to do," Lala Ji advised him like an old experienced married man that he was.

And when Shravan hesitated in taking the box from his father's hand, Lala Ji took away the box and opened it himself, just to find a diamond bracelet - delicate and beautiful...

'But Suman likes emerald,' he wanted to tell them.

And then suddenly he was reminded of the emerald necklace that lied hidden and forgotten in the back of the locker in his room...

During the time they were shopping for Pushkar's engagement ring, it had caught his attention at first glance, and when she had already finished buying what they had to, he had told her to go ahead and had turned back and had impulsively bought the delicate thing for her. And even though Suman had seemed so distant the whole time, even though his wounded ring-finger was a visible proof of her harsh treatment of pull and push that had been going back then, he had been too high on the delusion of his love being reciprocated, too desperate to give up on hope and his heart had been consumed by the desire to place that delicate necklace around her graceful neck and see her smile while looking up at him...

Now it seemed like another lifetime altogether...

"Come on, go to your room now, your bride must be waiting for you," Lala Ji told him as he handed him the box and pulled him away from his father and towards the hall.

Shravan looked back only to see his father nodding at him with an encouraging smile on his face, so he turned around, and even though dread filled his heart, he kept walking towards his room, now theirs...

At least for as long as she would want it to be...

Shravan quietly opened the door and stepped in the room that looked dark and haunted, destroyed. The room was faintly lit by the light coming from the window and the side table lamp yet he could see the flowers that last night Vandy Bhabhi and Pushkar had placed around his room with teasing smiles, were now on the floor, wretched and broken under a touch of rage, no longer beautiful. He could guess what had happened to them...

And there she was, occupying the side of the bed he had always reserved for her for as long as he remembered. With the lamp on the side table illuminating her face beautifully, she was leaning her back on the headboard, her eyes closed. Assuming she was asleep, Shravan carefully closed the door behind him. Walking quietly towards her, he placed the box on her side table and retreated...

"Do you have any idea how much humiliation you are making me go through?" Suman suddenly asked in a whisper.

"Huh?" He asked with a gasp at finding her awake.

"Are you so heartless that you don't feel pity?" She asked in a broken voice.

And despite all, a part of his heart ached at the pain in her eyes, even if it was momentarily, and even if at the first sign of a complication or a better option she would leave him behind, but he didn't want her to feel pain...

He wasn't a sadist, just lost. He wasn't even angry anymore. At first, he had been angry, seething in rage, dizzy with pain, and had broken the silence he had maintained for years. He had always been too reserved to share his pain and demons, the pain he had endured for as long as he remembered due to his parents' broken marriage and then his mother's abandonment and the loss of his only friend, Sumo. He had never shared anything with any of them, not with anyone and he wouldn't have had ever, but the revelations brought by that dark night had wounded him enough to lose the tightly maintained control over him, he had lost his mind, uttered his deepest and darkest thoughts and insecurities, leaving him more vulnerable than he had ever been and with continued blows and attacks, he finally had been broken enough for his mind to start working on a defensive system to numb him.

But now he was too tired to even feel numbness. So he was quietly accepting whatever was happening, doing whatever he was told, so what else he had to do more? What else do they want him to do more?

"What do you want, Suman?" He simply asked her.

Suman...

He had called her Suman, not Sumo, not even Suman Tiwari as he had called her whenever he had been angry. No, now she was just Suman...

And she didn't know why that made her more angry than heartbroken, because now for him too she was just Suman, not any longer special enough to be called Sumo, no longer important enough to even feel angry at to be called Suman Tiwari, but just Suman and that made seeth in rage, angry at herself and him...

What did she want? He had asked her...

She wanted to make him angry, make him snap at her, show her his emotions, talk to her, fight with her, anything other than the prolonged silence he had kept on with ever since he had agreed to marry her. She wanted him to eliminate the formal distance he had placed between them ever since then. She wanted him to feel anything other than the broken willfulness that he had been showing, she wanted him to stop being someone else, to be her Shravan and not the distant formal absent-minded man standing in front of her.

"I want you to stop with your drama, I had enough of it," she yelled at him instead.

"Okay," he muttered simply, nodded at her before walking away from her.

As Suman saw him leaving her behind, she felt shocked at his strange behavior, and as she saw him retreating back, something within snapped, with her fists tight, she got up and followed him as he walked towards the closet.

"What's your problem, Shravan? What else do you want from me?" She asked as she forcefully pulled him back so he was facing her.

"If you have already forgotten, we got married today. I gave you the commitment you wanted for so long. I married you. I did everything I could to make up for the wrong I had done, to mend the situation, yet you are still the same," her voice hoarse and harsh.

"Can't you see I am trying, we all are, everyone has been trying to do anything that they could just make you content, but you are so self-absorbed that you can't see beyond yourself, can you now, Mr Shravan Malhotra?"

"You don't care, do you? Because you are too busy playing the victim. How long are you going to keep this up? For just how long do I have to suffer, huh? For how long are you going to be selfish and self-centered?" She yelled with a glare yet as he kept on with his silence, her rage evaporated and only heartbreak remained.

"While sitting there in the garden, you were crying, you are mourning, what are you even mourning, Shravan? How dare you mourn on your wedding night," Suman yelled in pain, before giving an unexpectedly stronger push and making him stumble.

In an attempt to stop him from falling back, Shravan placed his hand on the dressing table to steady himself and as he did that he felt something sharp pricking his skin, pressing in it, unable to control himself, he hissed in pain.

And the yelling stopped. Frozen, Suman at first couldn't understand what had happened, and then when she did, her heart stopped. With the speed of light, she switched on the lights, and yes, she had guessed it right...

There was Shravan, holding his right hand up to investigate as blood poured out the wounds where the pieces of her broken bangles were sticking in his skin. The sight in front of her was enough to stop her heart; his blood was freely tripping on the floor as Shravan stood there with an almost fascinating expression on his face, frowning at his fresh wounds.

With her lips trembling and her eyes overflowing with tears, Suman stepped closer to him, her heart aching uncomfortably as she moved her hand above his, ghostly touching his wounds.

"Why do I always end up hurting you, Shravan? I didn't mean to, I never wanted to," she whispered, her voice breaking with her shaky breath.

"It's nothing," he muttered indifferently, before stepping back from her and turning his back to her one again.

Why?

Why must he always turn his back to her?

Why must he leave her behind?

She asked herself with hurt claiming her every thought.

With a move that seemed practiced hundred times before, Shravan moved to open the first draw of the dressing table and took out the first-aid box, snapping her out of her self inflicted misery.

"Let me," she stepped in with determination.

"There is no need," he refused formally.

"Yes, there is," she insisted forcefully and snatched the box from his hand and pulled his wounded hand towards her.

Her hurried movements jolted his wounded hand enough to make him hiss in pain once again - a sound that made her flinch and halt, and when she saw him clenching his jaw in an attempt to control the irritation and annoyance, with a sign of defeat, she handed him the first-aid box once again, too afraid to hurt him again.

Helplessly, Suman kept on looking at him as he with the help of tweezer pulled out the pieces of glass bangles from his palm and tending his wound with an expressionless face. And though she kept flinching and wincing at his pain, he remained unreasonably calm, detached.

And that's when she was hit by the realization, her will and determination to help him would never be fruitful if he wasn't ready to accept her help if he didn't want her help...

And as much as it hurt her ego to admit, she had to wait, even if she was too impatient to follow through her own realization...

She had to wait until he would accept that he needed her help...

She had to wait until he would come to her himself...

She had to wait until he would be ready for her help...

And that was why when after wrapping his wounded hand in a rag, he moved away from her and picked his pillow from the bed, she said nothing even if the rejection cut her from within. Suman remained standing there where he had left her. Nowadays, he kept leaving her behind, just staring at his retreating back, unable to stop him, incapable of making him stay back and never given the chance to follow him, never welcomed to walk along with him...

She kept on observing him as Shravan signed restlessly from the couch he had settled on, his arm moving to cover his eyes to stop the glaring light and to seek darkness, and his one movement snapped her out of her thoughts, her hand moving to the nearest switchboard to grant him the darkness he was seeking.

Soundlessly Suman moved to the side of the bed she had claimed as hers knowing he preferred the left side. And even though the sight of his six feet and something awkwardly bent to fit on the couch disturbed her, she willed herself to let him be, fearing that by saying or doing anything, she would probably mess up their situation more than it already was...

And that would be because she was incapable of communication, her impatience only knew how to push him and by doing that, she always ended up hurting him, she bitterly thought to herself...

And she refused to hurt him any more than she already had in the past, intentionally and unintentionally...

No more...

As Suman kept looking at his face, illuminated by the moonlight, her mind started to overwork, trying to come up with ways she could make him talk to her, to let her in and make him go back to be the Shravan she knew...

She didn't know when, but she ended falling asleep, suffering through a fitful, restless unconsciousness that had her tossing on the bed. The next morning, she opened her eyes with a new will, with a new determination...

Freshly changed into new clothes; a red and white saree she knew would attract his attention or at least would have attracted her Shravan's attention. She applied vermilion on the parting line of her forehead, and a blush automatically painted her cheeks in pink. With one last look around, she was about to walk out of the room when her eyes caught the sight of the box she knew Shravan had placed on her side table last night.

Smiling softly, Suman opened the box and found a delicate bracelet inside it, and even though she liked emeralds best, as it was Shravan's gift - his first gift to her after their marriage - she decided to cherish it, always. With a hopeful smile, she put it on her right wrist, and with a new skip in her feet, she moved toward the door, only to step back when it opened unexpectedly. And in walked, Shravan Malhotra, her husband, and she smiled at him even though he had walked in the room with a bunch of files in his hands, yet he granted her just one hurried gaze and moved aside to let a cheery Kamini stepped in the room behind him. And suddenly Suman once again was reminded of what the elder woman had told her last night.

"Oh God, Suman, what have you done? No white saree, you are a new bride," Kamini gasped at her.

"Thank God, I came here and saw you before anyone else. Can you imagine what they would have said and thought of you wearing white saree just the next day after getting married?" She chided her with a frown and continued with whatnot.

Unable to say anything to the elder woman, Suman glared at her husband who had moved past them and was now sitting on the sofa, lost in his files, working, undisturbed by what was happening.

"Anyway, I don't have time for this," Kamini finally stopped her rant, "I came here so I could hand you this designer dress I had ordered for the wedding reception tonight."

And just when Suman thought the elder woman would stop, Kamini continued;

"You are a Malhotra bahu - daughter-in-law of Malhotras now," she reminded her, "no longer can you parade around with these low-quality Kurtas and sarees, especially not your useless phatichar car. Now that you finally have access to Malhotra's fortune, use it more openly,"

The insults being thrown her way in such a casual manner had Suman biting her lips to control herself from talking back. No, no. She couldn't lose her calm, no matter how much she was provoked by Kamini, she had to stay put with her pride intact.

"I didn't marry Shravan for money," she muttered.

"But you always liked the expensive things coming your way alright, didn't you?" Kamini asked with mirth as she got hold of Suman's right hand and looked at the diamond bracelet warped around her wrist.

"It's his gift," she muttered, her cheeks flaming red with humiliation.

"Ramnaath Bhai Sahab has an excellent choice in jewelry, doesn't he?" Kamini commented before letting her hand fall with a sudden jerk.

A revelation that was more powerful than a punch, her heart clenched in pain, and lips trembling as her eyes suddenly watered in humiliation. She was an unloved and unwanted bride, and everyone knew about it. Everyone seemed to be laughing behind her back, everyone was looking at her in pity or mirth, weren't they? Her love for Shravan Malhotra was making her a laughing stock, her marriage with him was only bringing her humiliation, she realized with her fists tight and her nails digging into her palms.

"Anyway, here is your dress and don't forget about the needed beauty parlor appointment," Kamini told her as she looked at her in distaste.

And before Suman could say something in her defense, with a reminder to be present on the breakfast table, Kamini jerked her hand in a dismissive manner before she walked out of their room as she kept humming to herself.

With tears of anger filling her eyes, Suman took in a deep breath to calm herself before suddenly fully realizing the implication of Kamnini's words when she looked down at her hand which was still burning from the forceful touch.

And when she did, the humiliation of Kamini's words along with the hurt made her feel dizzy, angered, she closed the door with a bang, snapping Shravan out of his musing over the case he had been preparing for. He frowned at her when she with a swift action removed the bracelet from her wrist and threw it on the file in front of him.

"I can't be bought by expensive gifts, Shravan Malhotra," she spat firmly as her entire frame shook with rage and pure hurt.

"I was wearing it because I thought it was from you, not because it's expensive," she blurted out the words she couldn't say in front of Kamini.

"How dare you? You made it seem like it was a gift from you while it was your father who bought it and everyone knew about it and I am so stupid for showing it off. Why must you make me a laughing stock in front of others?" She yelled as tears kept slipping from her eyes.

"I never told you I was the one you bought it," Shravan muttered before removing the offensive piece of jewelry from the file with a dismissive manner.

Seeing him so unexpectedly calm Suman once again felt irritated and deeply bothered by his lack of response. The Shravan she knew would have exploded, would have been seething in rage, hissing at her with a frown.

"Can you not realize how much you are hurting me with your indifference?" She asked him with a helpless expression on her face.

"What do you want, Suman?" He asked in a tired sigh.

Again, Suman...

"You aren't my Shravan, I want him back," she whispered in a broken voice.

"Well, you aren't the only one," he muttered with an annoyed frown.

Right, Ramnaath Malhotra wanted him too, Suman thought before realizing that he probably would get his Shravan back before then she would...

Kamini's words from last night were already haunting her, and Suman realized that maybe she was right. Ramnaath Malhotra would get rid of her if he saw no improvement in Shravan's careless attitude. She was actually in a tricky situation. She had to make sure Ramnaath would always be on her side because knowing him, it was possible that he would do something to get rid of her. She just couldn't appear weak in front of him, unimportant and irrelevant in Shravan's life because then he would want her gone. She was walking on thin ice, and somehow, she had to throw Ramnaath off her back.

"There is something I actually want something from you," Suman said after hesitating for a bit.

"And what that would be?" Shravan asked without taking his eyes off from the file in front of him.

"You aren't going to let anyone know what happens between us, no longer you are going to do anything that would make anyone doubt me or in our marriage. For everyone, even your father, we are going to be a happily married couple, do you get what I am saying? You can't share anything with him from now on," she told him with a determinate finality.

"Do you want me to pretend, Suman? Are we going to put on a show?" Shravan asked her in disbelief as he finally looked up at her.

"Yes," she nodded firmly.

"I should have been expecting something like that from you, why didn't I?" He muttered to himself with a sigh.

"What?" She asked him, confused.

"Do you realize that it would only make things difficult when you will be looking for an out? If they know the truth, everything will be much easier," He told her, cryptically.

"What are you talking about? Looking for an out? What do you mean?" She asked, confused.

And before he could add anything, a knock on the door silent him.

"Breakfast is ready," Preeti informed them before dragging Suman towards the closet to get her changed into a proper 'Malhotra' worthy saree; an order given to her by Kamini Malhotra herself.

* * *

"What happened to your hand, Shravan?" Ramnaath asked his son as he handed him a glass of juice. A ritual he would have passed to Suman if she would have been present there.

"Nothing," Shravan muttered before looking down on his plate.

"Wait a minute, are you blushing, Shravan?" Vandy asked him a chirpy voice.

"Huh?" He asked, confused.

"Oh my God..." she exclaimed with her wide eyes before giggling as she looked at her husband, who reading her wife's thoughts asked;

"By any chance, this injury of yours is because of Suman's bangles, Shravan?"

There was sudden mirth in the atmosphere around the breakfast table, Shravan couldn't get why everyone was suddenly interested in his wounded hand. He had come home with wounded hands countless times, but never before they had found that intriguing.

"Yes, how did you guess?" He asked with a confused frown.

His question was met with only giggles and blushes from the ladies on the table, a teasing and smug smirks from the men and relief filled smile from his father.

Was it he who was losing himself to his inner confusion or the whole family sitting on the table had lost their minds?

"Naughty boy," even Kamini had muttered it with a bashful giggle before playfully whacking her husband once when he kept looking at her teasingly.

Was he missing something? Why all three couples on the table were suddenly lost in their own worlds with blushes painting their cheeks and cheeky smiles being exchanged?

Shravan kept looking at them with a confused frown before giving up as soon as he saw her descending from the stairs. The sight of her wrapped in red saree, with her hair open and her vermilion in the parting line near the end of her forehead, she looked like a vision his past self would have lost his mind for, yet as she moved towards him, he felt detached from the reality of them being married to each other, of her being present in Malhotra house, in his room, as his wife...

And even though the rest of the occupant of the table oh and ah at her, Vandy and Preeti complimenting her while the men tried to make her feel welcomed, Shravan knew how temporarily her presence was as his wife...

And when Suman came to sit next to him, claiming the unoccupied chair to his right, he could not respond to her smile with one of his even though he was told by her that they had to put an act of 'happily married' couple. He just kept looking at her as a million thoughts haunted him at once.

"Which magical spell did you cast over him, Suman, he can't even take his eyes off you for a second?" Lalaji teased them with a laugh.

'If only they knew,' Suman thought with bitterness yet forced her lips to curve into a smile.

And as the conversation moved towards the upcoming reception in the evening, Shravan walked out with the excuse to attend an important call, leaving her behind to deal with his family and their concern with the quality of the upcoming function. While Vandy reminded Suman of her parlor appointment, Preeti kept fusing over her as Kamini kept telling her how to behave like a proper Malhotra daughter-in-law...

And when everyone walked out, busy with the responsibilities of preparing for the reception, the two other Malhotra daughters-in-law turned to Suman to tease her mercilessly for the unintentional implications of Shravan's hand injury.

"I didn't know Shravan had it in him, he didn't even shy away and admitted it so shamelessly," Preeti commented on the matter with a laugh.

"Oh, come on now, Suman, don't just blush, give us details," Vandy told her with a giggle.

After suffering a session of teasing with her lying through her teeth, Suman was finally released from the torture and told to get ready to go to the parlor. With hurried steps, she entered in the room and found Shravan once again bent over his files.

"God, Shravan, I told you that we have to appear as a happily married couple, but I didn't mean that you could do this," she said, whining in embarrassment.

And when he kept looking at her with a lost expression, she sighed and reminded him of his crime;

"You told them your hand got injured because of my bangles," she muttered, shyly.

"I don't understand why it's such a big deal," Shravan muttered, once again confused at the reactions his revelation got from everyone else.

"Do you really not know what that implies?" She asked with her eyes wide open in shock.

"No, I don't," he said with a confused frown.

Of course, he didn't. Why did she think that he would know? He had been an innocent nerd in their teens and then for a decade had been on away from Indian to know the significance of broken bangles into the first night after the wedding - Suhagraat, probably didn't even watch Indian movies, the old ones that had the visual of two flowers and broken bangles on Suhagraat to imply the intimacy between the couple.

"What does that imply?" he asked her out of curiosity when he saw her standing there and blushing like the rest of the females had.

"Why don't you find the answer in these files and law books of yours, you workaholic man?" She hurriedly blurted before walking away as she kept muttering something to herself.

'Strange...' Shravan thought before shrugging and once again getting lost in the files.

* * * *

"Coffee isn't working anymore, right?" The young office boy asked the man in front of him who had already drunk umpteen cups of coffee since the morning and had asked him to bring him one more.

"Seems like it isn't," Shravan said as he smiled apologetically, thanking him before turning to the intern with whom he had been discussing the case.

He didn't remember the last time he had a night of proper sleep, at first he had been insomniac, sleep had been a million miles away from his eyes, and at times even though his body had gone to sleep his brain had been active, always reliving the past memories, immersed in pain and never letting him rest.

And then ever since he had walked out of Nana Ji's room after refusing to care about who Suman would get married to, nightmares had taken over, and he had been visited by the same nightmare again and again, each time more detailed, more vivid, always ending with him outside of the closed door of the room which caged her inside with her faceless tormentor, that was it until he gave in and agreed to marry her...

And even though after that, the nightmares should have stopped, but they only took more intense and disturbing shapes as if making sure he wouldn't back off and he almost had lost his mind during the preparation of their wedding, finding an escape in work, trying to not sleep, overworking himself, anything to escape his nightmares and her...

But now it seemed like finally, his brain was shutting itself randomly, and sometimes he didn't even realize it. He was suffering from sleeping spells that had him blacking out suddenly ever since the morning, he had been told servals time he was nodding off and there had been times when he had blacked out in the middle of something he had been doing, his hands shaking, and his sight blacking out randomly, he had been falling asleep even standing, yet there were few things he had to do before evening; an obligation he had put on himself to avoid home. He must stay out, out of the house which was full of people who were in the mood for celebration, out of the room which was hers too now...

"Shravan Bhaiya, please at least now get ready, we only have an hour to reach the venue," Pushkar barged in his office and dragged him out.

After being handed his clothes, Shravan was pushed in the bathroom and when he got out, he found her standing there, wearing gold and royal blue, and understood the reason why he had a royal blue Tuxedo on. As he stepped closer, she looked at him from where she was standing and smiled, if it would have been before she had told him to pretend, he wouldn't have found it irritating, but the smile she was forcing her lips to curve into now burnt him. Her forced giggles as Preeti and Vandy teased her felt like nails scratching a hard surface just near his ears...

It was ridiculous. The expectations of them being happy and blissful just after a night of being married were so ridiculous. Why did they have to suddenly put an act of happily married couple in front of others? Why?

Why he had to stand there by her side, on display for others, smile and show his gratefulness to them for being present on such an important event of his live and fake laugh at their stupid marriage jokes as he suffered from sleeping spells and a massive headache that never went away. Why?

Why?

His itching eyes were closed at their own accord, his head heavy and the veins on his temple pulsing painfully. He wanted everything to end already...

"Shravan," she hissed in his ear as she grabbed his elbow to direct him towards the guests.

And something snapped within him. Suddenly it was too much, everything was too much. He couldn't breathe as he shivered by the sudden hot white currents of rage passing through his body and before he could stop himself, he was hissing back at her.

"You don't get to tell me what I should or shouldn't do," he told her with a glare.

"Shravan, behave," a voice commanded him, and without a second delay, his body responded.

And when he realized his reaction, he felt an uncontrollable urge to destroy everything he could get his hands on. Why? Why even now his father had so much power over him? Why did both of them still have to ask him things to do? Why?

But Shravan knew that wasn't the time to act on his anger, he would regret lashing out. He would feel immensely guilty if he ended up snapping at neither of the two. He already had so much to regret, so many things he felt guilty for. So much he wished he hadn't let out, so much he wished he had kept to himself, so many wounds and secrets he wished he had kept hidden because letting out had only made things worse for him than they already were, hadn't it?

And what he had done that for anyway?

What had he gained by letting them know?

By displaying the darkest of his secrets, the deepest wounds of his, what he had changed?

Nothing...

Closing his eyes, he took in a breath, molding his shaking hands into fists, and when the currents of rage still kept passing through him, he let out a shaky breath.

"I just need some fresh air," he muttered to no one and walked out in a hurried pace.

He was shortsighted, there was nothing he could see and walked in the first door he came across. Going by the white light and the mirror in front of him, he could guess where he was. Spiraled against the tile, breathing harshly, with his nails busy in their attempt to dig into the marble sink, Shravan suddenly realized he's a half-step away from beating his knuckles against the mirror in front of him, that he was ready to hit anything, anyone and he wouldn't much care what or who...

He took in a deep breath, and then another. He counted to ten in the slowest rhythm he could. But it didn't work because his hand suddenly raised to hit the mirror repeatedly before he could even stop himself, again and again. And when he finally was able to stop, he lowered his hand under the running water in the sink. And as the blood kept mixing with the water, he was reminded of that one time in particular when his father had warped his bleeding hand in a rag, so carefully and had told him to stop hurting himself.

But even that memory was tainted now, wasn't it?

Because now he knew, he knew how even then when he was at his most vulnerable, trusting his father blindly, the man had tried to redirect him into the direction he had wanted him to go by instigating him to cut Suman out of his life...

And he had done that, was guilty of doing that, he had been a fool, a fool to trust his father so blindly, love them so deeply, expect so much from them, selfishly. He had been a fool, a cruel fool to do what he had done then; running to Suman and blurting most hurtful things, a fool to think that telling her all of that could extinguish the burning hell inside his chest...

It hadn't...

Nothing has ever extinguished it...

And it seemed like nothing ever will...

He was meant to burn to the ground, so he would keep burning until eternity...

As he once again was admitting his truth to himself, the helplessness he felt took his rage and turned it into underwater, bell-like grief that consumed everything...

'And that's how the cycle continues', he thought before taking a deep breath and looking around at the destruction he had caused in the fit of his rage.

He wished his brain would stop, just stop taking him on these trips down memory lane to point out how many things he had done wrong, how many things had gone wrong because he had been ignorant. He desperately wanted his brain to stop reminding him of the memories he wanted to forget, stop torturing him by reshaping his every memory according to what he had learned in the past few months, to stop destroying and then rebuilding his past with the knowledge of the revelations of the secrets he had gotten to know since that night...

But it seemed like nothing could stop his brain from torturing him...

It was as if his brain had been completely unaware of everything that had been happening around him, to him and now that it knew, he had to go through everything with it as his brain realized, processed, and memorized everything based on the collected data to estimate the damage...

Walking out of the restroom, Shravan tried to find the staff nearby and let them know about the broken mirror, signing a check to cover the cost of repairing the damage, requesting them to not mention it to whomever from his family was overlooking the event. Nodding, muttering words of gratitude, and after all the required formalities, he walked out towards the spacious gardens, uncaring of the blood that kept tripping from his hand as it left a trail behind him.

As Shravan breathed in the rose-scented air, closing his eyes, he willed himself to absorb some of its sweetness so he could stop being so bitter. Slowly he shrugged off his coat to feel the chillness of the winter in hope that it would be able to slow down the burning hell that he has been carrying within himself for so long, wishing that the stillness of the night would calm down the rage that has been consuming his soul for what seemed an eternity...

He was tired, so tired. He wanted to go back to being in control of himself as he had been before, he had been able to put on a mask and hide away his true self. Hide away his pain, his wounds, and his insecurities. He had been able to do it for ever since he remembered and had perfected it in the past decade, but now the mask had been shattered, in pieces, crumbled down on the ground and his emotions and wounds were bare, naked, on display for everyone else, now even a stranger could read him, and he hated it...

He hated the pity, the mirth in strangers' eyes, and the frustration, the confusion in the eyes of the people who claimed to think of him as family. And the ones who claimed to have loved him were hurting him the most with their complete inability to understand him and accept him in his broken form...

He had always been broken from within, he had hidden it well, for more than a decade, and what had happened within the past six months - from the preparations of Pushkar and Preeti's wedding to Suman's and what had happened on that night and the following events - all of it had cracked the mask bit by bit, revealing his true broken self that he had been hiding. And now that they knew how ugly his wounds were, how deep-rooted his pain was, they wanted him to put back his mask and hideaway once again because they couldn't recognize him without it...

'I want my Shravan back,' his father had been pleading to him, again and again.

'You aren't my Shravan, I want him back,' she had said in the morning, something her eyes had been telling him for longer.

And he wished he could give them their Shravan, yet he was nowhere to be found. He had searched for him everywhere within, he no longer was there. He wished he had that Shravan's will and his strength, his determination and his undying hope...

Because now he felt nothing but emptiness, a black hole like emptiness that could suck in the whole universe yet still remain empty. He wished he knew how to put back his broken mask in place and, pretending that he was the Shravan that others thought they knew and claimed to love. Yet no matter how much he tried to glue his broken mask back together to put it on, it kept cracking in pieces...

"Is putting on a mask getting difficult?"

A voice asked him, snapping him out of his thought, and when he realized the meaning of the words, he turned around sharply and took in a shaky breath, gasping at the one who had just voiced his inner struggle...

* * * * *

A/N:- Finally, ahh, finally I updated, finally, I am done...T_____T

This chapter was too long and took way too long to complete, and I had been editing and correcting it for weeks, and still am unsure, so I hope you all liked the update and it was worth the wait... :)

I actually faced a very strange writer block during this chapter. I had planned the chapter for so long, knew what I wanted to write, but I couldn't write down the broken words and half-formed sentences that were roaming around in my mind. While writing this chapter, I constantly felt like I no longer know English, so apologies for the grammar mistakes. I really hope you all liked this chapter and are liking how the story is progressing...

Readers' feedback is important and helps in writing the following chapters better, so I am hoping you all would leave comments to let me know your thoughts, feelings, and if there is any confusion, or if there is something you are curious about, please let me know... :)

Thank you for waiting and for always being patient, sweet and generous, and thank you for everything that you guys do, for all the love and all the compliments, I am truly grateful and appreciate everything you guys do, thank you! :)

Thank you! :)

* * *