Nitya

As I sit across from Prathamji, waiting for him to tell me everything about Sandhya and his relationship, I can feel my heart pounding, a mix of dread and curiosity churning in my stomach.

I try to steady my breath, but I can't stop the nervous energy from making my fingers tremble. I clutch them together in my lap, bracing myself for what he's about to say when I see him open his mouth.

"Sandhya and I met at the university in London. She was my batchmate," he starts, his eyes distant as if he's looking back into another time. "I was fascinated by her when we first met. She was smart, beautiful, confident, and I was charmed by her."

His words sting, and I can't help but feel a pang of jealousy. Yet, I nod a him, urging him to continue.

"Our bond blossomed quickly, the beginning of our relationship intense and passionate," he pauses, taking a deep breath before continuing, "But as time went on, I started to see things I hadn't noticed before. Perhaps I didn't see them in the beginning because I was too enamored by her personality, or should I say the personality she pretended to show me. Because when I got to know her closely, I realized she was nothing like how she had portrayed herself to me in the beginning.

"Her controlling and manipulating behavior started to suffocate me. I tried to talk with her, tried to work through it in the beginning because I really didn't want to give up on our relationship without fighting for it even once. But when she didn't make any effort to understand what was bothering me, I felt like I was the only one carrying the weight of our relationship. That I was the only one trying to save it. I gave it my all until I could, but then I had to let go when I finally realized she was not worth it."

I could feel the tension in his words, the frustration that still lingered from the past.

"Soon after that realization, I broke up with her. It was too messy, and she didn't take it well." He runs a hand through his hair. "She kept shouting I can't leave her because I had promised to never leave her. I tried to reason with her, but when she didn't listen, I walked away from her.

"She also followed me, crossing the road blindly to get to me. But before she could reach me, she was hit by a car. I hurriedly got to her and rushed her to the hospital, but it was already too late. The doctors there gave me the news of her death."

I gasp loudly, shocked by the revelation. "Sandhya died? How? I had seen her with you that day. How is it possible?"

Prathamji sighs. "I too was unable to believe it, Nitya. When she returned suddenly, I had hard time believing it was really her. But she told me things about her that only she knew and also the things about us which no other person knew except the two of us.

"I don't know why she was announced dead all those months back and how she came back alive, and I don't want to know too." Standing up, he walks to me and sits beside me on the sofa. "I no longer want to live in the past. I want to move on with you."

I swallow hard, trying to process everything he's saying. "That day, when you told me you were going through so much grief when you were forced to marry me, did you mean you were dealing with Sandhya's death?"

"Yes, I was devastated by her death because I felt I was responsible for it," he replies. "It was because she was trying to reach me that she was blindly crossing the road and got hit by the car." He shakes his head, leaning forward and putting his head in his hands. "I was so distraught by her death that, on her funeral, I promised I would repent by not letting anyone else come to my life. That she would only be the girl in my life even though she was no longer alive."

"You mean to say you promised forever to her after her death because you felt guilty?" I ask, wanting to confirm if what I've understood is correct. "You no longer had feelings for Sandhya, yet you vowed you would not let anyone else come into your life because you thought that car accident which killed her was your fault?"

He nods at me, and although I find it to be a bit bizarre, I nod back at him, hoping I'll understand it better after he'll open up more with me.

"What did she tell you after she came back? How was she alive when she was already declared dead after that accident?"

"She says she was in a coma for almost ten months, after which she regained consciousness and came to the village to meet me once she was allowed to travel by her doctor."

"Why didn't you tell me about her before, Prathamji? Why did you hide it from me?"

"Because I didn't want to burden you with my past. I have realized now it was wrong of me to do so, but I had no intention of hiding it from you forever, Nitya. I had thought I would deal with her first, make her go away from our lives, and then tell you," he tells me, his voice heavy and full of regret.

"You've been carrying this with you all this time, and I had no idea," I say, my voice breaking. "You hid something so significant from me."

His face falls, and he reaches out to take my hand in his. "I'm sorry. I should have told you."

I look into his eyes, searching for the truth in them. "What will happen now? You say you want to start anew with me, but your past has returned, Prathamji."

"That's exactly what she is, Nitya. Sandhya is my past, and she will always remain in the past," he says, his voice firm. "You are my present and my future. I've told Sandhya to get away from our lives and stay away."

His words are sincere, but I feel I still need some time to think it through. To process everything he told me.

"I was heartbroken when I first found out about Sandhya," I tell him, taking a deep breath to calm the storm of emotions swirling within me. "It was right after I had realized my love for you and I was crushed on finding out you would never love me because someone else was in your heart.

"Still, I tried to be strong. I left you because I thought that was the right thing to do. After all, you were forced to marry me. That's why I thought getting out of your life would be the right thing to do, so you could be with Sandhya.

"But when I left, everything went downhill." A shudder passes through me as the memory of that dark room and Uday's evil face swims in my mind. Shaking my head, I push those memories away, not wanting to plunge myself into the depth of it's darkness.

"When you rescued me, brought me back with you, cared for me, and told me you wanted to start fresh with me, I begun to hope and dream of our happy life together. This is the reason why I was completely shattered on seeing you with her that day.

"Without any hope of getting your love or of us being together, I was broken. Yes, the pain of the heartbreak was there, but it was tolerable. But you gave me hope by telling me you wanted to build something real with me. It even made me dream. And when that dream was so brutally snatched, the hope so mercilessly crushed, I felt too shattered, Prathamji. Just too shattered."

Tears well up in my eyes, but I blink them back, not wanting to break down. At least not until I finish what I want to tell him.

As I gaze at Prathamji, I see his face contorting in pain and I also see the guilt in his eyes. The way his shoulders have slumped as if the weight of my words is crushing him.

"This is the reason why I need some time to process what you told me, Prathamji. I love you, yes, but I feel it will take some time to rebuild the trust between us."

He nods and cups my face. "Take all the time you need. I love you and will be right beside you, waiting for you."

Leaning to his touch, I gaze deeply into his eyes. "If we are to move forward from this, if we are to give our relationship a chance, I want one thing, Prathamji."

"What do you want?" He asks.

"You," I answer. "I want all of you. Even the broken pieces of you that you hide from everyone else. I want you to treat me as your equal, not as someone weak you need to protect all the time. I want your complete honesty, not the hidden secrets from you because you didn't want to burden me with them. Can you give me that?"

Prathamji leans toward me, his lips hovering over mine. "Yes, I can, and I will. I promise you, Nitya."

Feeling my breath hitch due to his nearness, I stay in his embrace. He leans even closer, our lips almost touching—so much so that I can feel them lightly brushing against mine.

"Nitya," he whispers. "Is it—"

Our moment is interrupted when the apartment's door suddenly swings open and Yash bhaiyya enters inside.

I immediately scoot away from Prathamji on the sofa, putting some distance between us.

"You are still here?" Bhaiyya asks Prathamji, a mocking edge to his voice.

"I'll leave once Nitya agrees to come with me."

Bhaiyya crosses his arms, leaning against the doorframe. "Nitya won't go anywhere tonight. It's already too late and it's raining heavily right now. As for you, did you bring your car?" He asks Prathamji.

"I had brought it, but it broke down a few blocks away. That's why I had to—"

"I'm not at all interested to hear that," Bhaiyya interrupts. "Anyway, your apartment is only fifteen minutes away from here. I'm sure you can manage to make it up there on your feet. I could have given you umbrella for the rain, but I don't want to."

Prathamji shoots him a look. "I told you. I'll leave only after Nitya agrees to come with me."

Bhaiyya uncrosses his arms and steps further inside the living room, looking as if whatever he's going to say will spark argument between them.

So, I intervene before that can happen.

"Is it okay if Prathamji stays here with us tonight, Bhaiyya?" I ask. "It's already night, his car is broken, and it's raining too."

Bhaiyya hesitates, his gaze darting between Prathamji and me before he sighs loudly. "Fine. He can stay," he says, his voice laced with reluctance.

*****

Pratham

After dinner, Nitya and I retire to her room.

As we reach the bed, I can sense the hesitation in her demeanor. She looks conflicted, and it tears at me because I know I am the reason for it.

"Nitya," I call softly. "I know you need some space. I can sleep on the couch tonight."

She hesitates, biting her lip. "You can take the bed. I'll sleep on the cou—"

"No," I interrupt her. "Take the bed." I grab a pillow from the bed and walk to the couch at the corner of the room.

Thankfully, she doesn't argue further about it. As I settle onto the couch, I listen to the soft rustling of the sheets as she gets into the bed. And when she turns off the lights, the silence that follows feels heavy.

I close my eyes, trying to force myself to sleep, but soon, I realize it's useless. My mind is racing, filled with the thoughts of Nitya, of us, of everything I did that caused this distance between us.

Minutes turn into what feel like hours, and sleep remains elusive.

The couch is uncomfortable, yes, but that's not causing the sleeplessness. It's the thought of Nitya being in the same room, just a few feet away, and the fact that I can't hold her.

I wait for few minutes more, trying hard to sleep, but when I can't take it anymore, I finally climb down from the couch and make my way over to the bed.

Standing beside the bed for a moment, I watch her sleep, feeling an overwhelming mix of emotions—regret, longing, and a deep love that I didn't know I could feel so intensely.

Then, I kneel down, my heart aching as I reach out and gently take her hand. She stirs lightly, but thankfully, doesn't wake up.

I hold on to her hand, feeling a small measure of comfort just from the simple contact.

"I'm sorry, Nitya," I whisper, leaning down and pressing my forehead against her knuckles. "I know I messed up, but I promise I'll make things right now."

Saying that, I lean my head against the edge of the bed, still holding her hand, and close my eyes.

As the minutes tick by, the tension in my body slowly starts to ease. The sound of her breathing is calming, and I find myself beginning to relax. Yes, it isn't the same as holding her in my arms while sleeping, but for now, just being here with her and being able to hold her hand is enough for me.