Nitya

I stagger back in shock, Prathamji's words repeating in my mind in a loop.

"For me, Nitya is only my responsibility. I won't ever be able to accept her as my wife."

Whirling away, I start walking, not knowing where I am going, but needing to get away from here.

"I'll never be able to forget Sandhya."

The crushing pain in my chest blossoms with each passing second, my whole body trembling as I try to figure out what I should be doing.

"What are you doing here? When did you arrive?"

Hearing Maaji's voice, I look at her, but she seems distant to me. Even her voice seems like it's coming from somewhere far away from me.

"Why are you staring at me like that?"

I open my mouth to answer her, but no words come out. My whole focus is on the piercing pain searing through my heart to every fiber of my being. So much so that I feel my whole body heating up, making it difficult to even draw a breath.

"I don't care why you are standing like a statue here. If it's your tactic to show how exhausted you are after the journey, let me tell you it won't work on me," she huffs. "Go to the kitchen now and start preparing lunch for everyone. Don't think you can shy away from your responsibility even now, after spending three days at your parents' house."

When I still do not respond to her, she glares at me for a few seconds and walks away, muttering something about me.

After Maaji leaves, I resume walking until I reach the far end of the corridor.

Opening the storeroom, I enter inside and close the door behind me.

"I'll never be able to forget Sandhya."

Covering my ears with my hands, I try to stop his voice from ringing in them, but it doesn't stop.

"For me, Nitya is only my responsibility, nothing else."

I slump to the floor, rubbing my chest when the piercing pain starts getting unbearable to the point that it slowly begins to numb me.

Raising my other hand to my face, I realize there are no tears there. I have not cried, although I feel too broken.

Is this how it is? The pain of a heartbreak?

Shaking my head, I let out a mirthless chuckle, unable to believe how stupid I had been.

Prathamji had been clear with me since the very start. He told me he was forced to marry me. He also told me he would never accept me as his wife.

And yet I hoped. Not only did I hope but I let it blossom to the point that I allowed myself to fall for him. The false hope within me encouraging me to take the flight, to have an impossible dream.

But now, when I am plunging headfirst to the ground, there is no hope left. Only dark abyss surrounding me.

Gathering my knees to my chest, I stare ahead, not really knowing how to go on like this.

Prathamji saying that I would forever remain his responsibility has hurt me. But what has pierced more is him saying he won't ever be able to forget Sandhya.

He loves someone else. He is pining for someone else.

The numbing pain rises again, making me bleed. I look down at my chest, wondering if the blood has seeped out, but there is none.

Sandhya. Even saying her name in my mind causes the pain to double down.

Is that why he remained indifferent with me in the beginning days of our marriage? Did he hate me for being the reason behind separating him from his love?

Squeezing my eyes shut, I remember it all. His harsh behavior, his anger, his indifference.

But it had changed. He had changed. He supported me, cared for me.

Why did he do it?

"Even though I have not accepted you as my wife, you are still my responsibility. I won't shy away from fulfilling it anymore."

That was what he had said to me when I thanked him for supporting me that day when Maaji decided to throw me out of the house after I talked back with Chachiji.

It had been the beginning of the change in our relationship. The beginning of my hope for a happy married life with him where we would both love each other.

I was so naive. How could I think he would love me? How?

"He loves someone else. Sandhya is the one who rules his heart. Not me. Never me."

Those words bring another bout of pain within my chest and I feel like crying out.

Yet, no tears come.

Most of my dreams have been crushed since my childhood. Sometimes by my father, sometimes due to the expectations of the society, and sometimes simply because I am girl.

To that long list, the other crushed dream has been added.

And this broken dream is the one that hurts the most of them all.

*****

Pratham

Getting Nitya's suitcases inside the room, I frown, wondering where she has gone leaving all her bags at the door.

Uday just walked out of my room, and both of us were surprised seeing the suitcases outside the room.

I figured Nitya must have returned from her parents' house because I recognized her suitcases, but could not understand why she didn't enter the room.

Since she left three days back, I have been waiting for her return. The room seemed too empty without her in it. And the bed seemed to cold without her warmth beside me.

The way I missed her surprised me. It was as if I had become bereft without her presence.

Not only did I miss seeing her and talking with her, but I also missed her during the nights, when I could not sleep without her lying next to me, wrapped in my arms.

It confused me at first, but now, after talking with Uday I have realized it was because I had gotten used to living with her.

Yes. That's the only reason.

Although my heart pounds furiously, I try my best to silence it, not wanting to even consider the other reason.

No. There is no other reason at all. It can't be the reason. It can't be.

"Prathamji."

Hearing Nitya call me, I immediately turn to the door, my lips automatically curling into a smile when I see her.

I take her in as she walks toward me. Already knowing she will hug me once she reaches me.

Those hugs from her are also something that I have gotten used to. The way her whole face glows with smile when she is happy, the way she launches herself at me sharing how excited she is about something, and the way blush creeps up on her cheeks after she breaks the hug—it all makes me.... feel something.

It's nothing special. The hugs are also something I have gotten used to, nothing else.

I frown when instead of hugging me, Nitya, after reaching me, looks at me in such a way that causes a pinch in my heart.

"How have you been, Prathamji?" She asks, and her voice is such that it tugs at my heart.

"I have been fine," I answer, carefully regarding her. "Are you fine? Do you feel tired from the journey?"

She shakes her head. "No, not tired at all. I am fine too."

Her words and expression do not match because she looks anything but fine.

"Has something happened?" I ask her, wanting to know.

A wry smile curves her lips. The kind of smile that does not reach her eyes.

"Main bas 3 din ke liye gayi thi, par wapas aane ke baad aisa lag raha hai ke sab kuch badal gaya hai," she says.

("I was gone just for three days, but after returning, I feel like everything has changed.")

"Nothing has changed, Nitya. Everything is as it is." I look around the room, knowing I have not made any changes since she left.

Maybe she saw the new painting that I bought. I realize, looking at the painting on the wall right beside the door.

I am about to tell her that I bought it a day back, but she speaks before I can.

"I know nothing has changed for you, but everything has changed for me, Prathamji," she says, her voice hoarse.

"Nitya, what are yo—"

"Perhaps I am tired from the journey," she says, interrupting me. "May I rest for a bit, Prathamji? I don't think I'll be able to prepare lunch for everyone."

"It's okay. You take rest. Do you want me to stay with you?" I ask, remembering she had been the same way last time when we returned from the city. But after that journey, she seemed anxious. Today, she seems sad and lost.

"You must have many things to do. I have realized I can't keep forcing you to be with me."

The way she looks at me when she says that, causes a jolt in my heart.

I open my mouth to ask her what she meant by that, but she shakes her head, seeming as if she does not want to talk anymore.

As I watch, she walks to the bed and lies down, facing away from me.