Disha

I feel weightless as if there is a cool water beneath me is carrying away every ounce of tension from my body. Nothing is compared to this calm.  Last night i slept in the arms of my mother knowing no harm will come to me while blabbering about Arohi's wedding. It felt so normal as if nothing changed in my life. Now her fingers are gently working through my hair massaging warm coconut oil into my scalp, each movement melting away the heaviness I've been carrying.

I had arrived late last night completely exhausted from the long journey. On the train people were staring, whispering about my strange hair colour as if i was alien.  Even the apartment aunties asked me if i am really the same Disha they knew. I had already braced myself for my mother's reaction, half-expecting her to scold me, to insist that I dye my hair back to black. But instead she smiled, complimented me and said nothing about changing myself. That simple acceptance was enough to feel joy.

I have already made my mind. In these two days i plan to spend every moment with my mother. We will go to spa together, shop like we used to at every end of month, watch a movie and on the way back i will treat her to a candlelight dinner at an expensive restaurant. It may cost more than i can manage but for her happiness i can sacrifice everything without giving a second thought. 

And the most important task. I need her comfort without asking directly so it gives me strength. I need it to gather the courage to face Rudra and find out what he really wants from me. He knows so much about my life and my mother's.  He also didn't even explain me why he married me. This marriage mean nothing to me. Whatever it might be, it's nothing like the one normal people dreams of. It's something else entirely, something he needs to achieve. 

I have thousands of question regarding him. There is no one to answer them. Still Jessica and Vedant jiju were in my list. But i soon removed them as i know Jessica will never reveal anything to me. She is as cold and unreadable as Rudra himself. If i talk about Vedant jiju. He is newly married and already away on business trip. I can't burden him with my things. So i can't be dependent on anyone but myself only. 

And yet, that bastard had the audacity to call me and demand me to curse him with all the bad luck before he drives to work. I had started with thoughts of him hating it but he is just getting obsessed with me cursing him every morning. He is a full package, psycho. Who knows he became billionaire just by doing illegal things. 

"How's work going, Disha? And be honest this time." My mother's voice pulls me out of my thoughts like a splash of cold water. I sigh. Out of all the things she had to ask this one, the same one i have been trying to avoid since last night. But here we are, leaving me with no choice but to lie. 

I take a slow breath and whisper, "It's good, Mumma."

"Good?" Her fingers slow, pausing in my hair, as her attention sharpens. "And your colleagues? How are they treating you?"

My throat burns with the weight of words i can't say. I place my hand gently over hers, sliding it down until i am holding it. Turning to face her, i meet her eyes. Those deep black eyes that have carried pain and strength in equal measure stare back at me, trying to read me. Even after all these years, after everything life has stolen from her she remains the most beautiful woman i ever seen. People think beauty is a blessing but i know the truth. Sometimes, it's a curse. I have seen it tear her down and witnessed it become a weapon in the hands of others. 

"Dishu?" Her soft call drags me back from my spiraling thoughts. I quickly turn my face away, guiding her hand back into my hair. 

"It's good, Mumma," I murmur, closing my eyes so she won't see the cracks in me. "You know I don't like people. As long as they treat me well, I'm fine." I take calm breath in relief as my voice didn't cower and she resumed moving her fingers in my scalp, her touch soothing away every tangled knot in my nerves. 

"And your apartment? Does it have all the facilities you need?" she asks after a pause.

"Yes mumma. Its 2bhk beautiful cozy apartment. My employer is so good."

Another lie. Another sharp pang pressing into my chest. 

She hums softly, silence settling between us. The room is filled with the faint sounds from the world outside. The bustle from the street below, car passing, children playing in the colony park  and the birds that never seem to tire of chirping. Warm sunlight filters through the window, painting the white walls in gold. Across the room is the television where songs are playing one after another and the lyrics slipping past my ears unheard. 

And through it all, I cling to her touch, wishing this moment could last forever.

"Dishu?"

I hum pretending to be absorbed in the TV screen though the thudding of my heart in my ears gives me away. I know she's about to say something i won't like. 

"How about I come to delhi with you?"

 My head snaps towards her with eyes wide. Shock runs through me like a jolt from electricity. Where did that come from? She never ever once mentioned about going back, not since we moved here and built a new life away from the past.  

She swallows, then reaches out to tuck an oily strand of my hair behind my ear. Her fingers are warm soothing against my skin, yet the touch pierces me with guilt for every lie I've told her.

"Life is uncertain, And if this truly is my last phase, I want to spend every moment with my daughter."

Her words strike like an arrow, making goosebumps rise all over my skin. Fear claws at my chest. I clutch her hands tightly grounding myself in her presence reminding myself she's still here, still breathing beside me.

"Don't say things like that, Mumma," I whisper fiercely, shaking my head. "You'll live a long life. I won't let anything happen to you until I've given you all the happiness you deserve. I'd love to take you with me, but in Delhi, I'll be so busy with work. I won't be able to stay with you the way I want. Here, my employer arranged a nurse for you and who knows he might take it away later. Your medical reports are improving. So rest assured. And don't repeat this stupid thing again."

My voice cracks like a scolding child's, and when she laughs at me, the sound spreads warmth across the room. Her laughter, it's magic. It could make even barren land bloom into flowers. Watching her laugh, my own lips betray me curving into a small smile.

As her laughter fades, her eyes shine with a soft sparkle. 

"Since your best friend is married now," she says building the suspense, "what are your plans for settling down?"

"Of course I have plans," I reply quickly, maybe a little too brightly. "I'll work for another two years, save money, buy my own home. Maybe I'll bring you to Delhi or even come back here. Who knows?"

She playfully slaps the back of my head. "You're dodging the question. You know exactly what I meant. I'm talking about your marriage."

 I knew it. 

I wish I could tell her the truth that i am already married to a man who I stabbed on his shoulder and he didn't flinch, or showed any ounce of pain ever since. A man who has been drugging me with sleeping pills just to keep me silent in his mansion. I know if i told her she would break apart in fear and rage at the same time. I know she would fight against Rudra for me without hesitation. But i won't burden her with that. 

Besides. . . it can't be called a marriage. There was no nuptial chain, no vermillion in my hairline. I might be living in modern world but my heart will always cling to the traditions. To me, this cage i am trapped in is nothing more than a contract. 

"I'll think about marriage in five years," I say softly, forcing conviction into my tone. "Right now, I want to focus on both of us."

Her expression softens. She leans forward, presses a kiss to my forehead, and strokes my hair. "I hope you get every single wish your heart holds."

Her words sink into me, bittersweet, as I return her smile. I have already got a blood on my hands mumma. You taught me to be strong but also mentioned that one can't win with violence. But what could i have done when he himself had provoked me on the name of you when he probably had known you are my whole world. You are the reason i breath for. 

The moment shatters with a sharp knock on the door.

My mother frowns while my throat goes dry. I already know who it would be.  

"Mumma, it must be the people I called to clean the apartment with their devices," I say quickly, forcing a casual tone. I can't tell her that those are the people I called to scan our apartment for any cameras or hidden devices left by Rudra.

She turns to me, eyebrows raised in surprise. "Clean?"

I nod, my lips curving into a practiced smile. "Nothing big. They'll just use laser lights to sanitize things."

Another lie, Disha. Another weight pressing on my chest. I think I've broken my own record today of the highest number of lies spoken in just one day.

Without waiting for her reply, I hurry to the door.

Two men and a woman step inside. They're dressed in crisp professional clothes, their movements sharp and purposeful. Their eyes sweep across the walls, the corners, the ceiling as though reading the secrets buried in them i am want them to unleash, if any. Without a word, they pull out their devices and begin their work.

I stand back as they move through the living room, the bedrooms, even the kitchen. I watch them check behind picture frames, beneath lamps, inside sockets and vents. My chest tighten with each passing second.

My mother's suspicious gaze doesn't leave them. She stands guard, her sharp eyes following every hand movement making sure they don't pocket even a pin.

When at last the team finishes, they gather near the door. The woman in the group meets my eyes and gives the faintest shake of her head. Nothing. No hidden cameras. No devices.

Relief rushes through me like air into drowning lungs.

The apartment falls into silence once all of them leave.

"I didn't know houses could be sanitized with laser," my mother says finally, her voice laced with doubt as though peeling at the edges of my lie.

"It can, Mumma. At the company where I work, they use laser cleaning to maintain hygiene." My words tumble out smoothly but inside I feel raw. I slip into my room before her questions can grow sharper, her watchful eyes still following me from the doorway.

Just then, my phone chimes.

My mother drifts into the kitchen to prepare the lunch. I unlock the phone.

You think I'd leave my footsteps behind when I already have you where I always wanted you.

My grip tightens. He knows I tried to check for his shadow?

I type back quickly, anger and fear twisting in my veins.

  Don't you have anything better to do than keep an eye on me?

The reply arrives instantly, as though he's been waiting for me.

You wouldn't like how free I can be when it comes to you.

I blink, reread the words. It's so like him, creepy, suffocating and unavoidable. 

God, when will I ever escape him?

I toss the phone onto the bed and collapse beside it, covering my face with my hands. For a moment, I want nothing more than to disappear into the mattress.

"Dishu!" my mother calls from the kitchen. "Don't lie down on the bed with your oily head. I just changed the sheets last night."

I roll my eyes but warmth creeps into my chest. Her voice and her fussing over to keep the cleanliness makes it feel like home. I've missed this. Missed it more than I can ever admit. 

Later at night....

The evening had been perfect in its own small way. Mumma and i went for a body spa, laughing while she told me the gossips i missed in our apartment. Then shopped a little, picking up the things we didn't really needed but still enjoyed buying because it caught our eyes. We even caught the 8 p.m. movie at the cinema. But since it was getting late, i tugged her out before the ending credits so we don't miss our dinner plans. 

It was beautiful with nothing so extravagant just a cozy meal we both needed. On the walk home, we talked about little nothings like her telling me quick recipes in case i come home tired or get late in morning to even cook a breakfast before work and some random jokes on whatever we saw on street. For those few hours, it felt like life had paused and allowed us to just be. 

But now i am lying in my bed staring at the ceiling for the past two hours without trace of sleep. It's already past three in the morning. My nerves feel restless, my body is strangely cold as if something vital is missing. I sigh deeply, finally giving up to prepare a midnight snack like Maggi or perhaps some chips in the drawer to help me.

I step out of my room quietly, pausing just when i notice a faint strip of light leaking through the gap beneath my mother's door. My steps still at the thought she's still up this late when she should be sleeping. 

With a hesitant movement, i reach for the knob, turning it slightly just enough to peek inside. The sight steals my breath away. Mumma has fallen asleep in half sitting position, her head leaning against the headpost. A large photo album resting in her lap.

 As i step further into the room with tip toe, i find more photographs scattered across the bed like fallen leaves, each one holding pieces of the past we both try to avoid or is it just me while my mother is still holding onto that part life her life depends on it. 

A knot twists painfully in my stomach as my gaze fall on one particular picture and my chest tightens until breathing becomes difficult for me. 

It's the picture of her, eyes closed in quiet peace, full blown smile at the corners of her mouth while a man. . .  him.... pressing a kiss against her forehead. She's holding me in her arms probably of one or two years and that man's protective hand rests on me. I am smiling in the photo, holding the same man's hand. 

The sight nearly shatters me. I turn to leave but while on my way i snatch the same photo with trembling fingers. Stealing a piece of my mother's memories.

 I walk back to my room closing the door softly behind me. On my bed, i unfold the crumpled photograph and stare at it. My eyes blur as tears threaten to spill. The people smiling back at me seems so far away from the misery we live in today. Or worse, one is no more. 

Now, i understand why i couldn't sleep. 

Because earlier tonight, before falling asleep i had logged into my email and found an anonymous email sender which said.... 

He is gone. 

I couldn't believe that until i checked the social media of his wife and stared at my phone screen constantly for minutes in numbness and memories haunting me, fading away with passing time. 

 The very man who abandoned us, who ruined our lives and left us bleeding is no longer in this world. After years of vanishing and silence he has finally left this earth leaving nothing behind but wounds that still bleed. 

I can't tell mumma about this and can't crush her with this. She may seem unbreakable by the day but at night i know the truth. She is still a woman who once loved a man deeply. A woman who gave up everything for him, only to be betrayed. And yet, her heart never hated him truly. I have seen it. Night after night, watched her relive the past, clutching these photos like lifelines, as though staring long enough might heal her wounds. 

And me? Despite the hatred burning in me for my father, i still had questions. Questions to which i never get to ask now. They will always remain unanswered. 

If he was already belonged to someone else then why married my mother? Why bring me into this world if he had planned to abandon us? If he were destined to leave then why protected us at all? Why save us from evil only to become one himself? 

Why papa? 

How could you leave without seeing your own princess you always cared? How did you never try to approach me? 

Did we even ever matter? 

Next morning

The aroma of hot, crunchy aloo paranthas fills the kitchen, curling into the living room until my stomach growls in protest. I had decided to surprise Mumma with breakfast, something simple yet special. A bowl of tangy pickle already waits on the side and the tea is boiling, the air rich with the sharp and comforting fragrance of ginger. Of course, in the process of preparing this  I've managed to turn the kitchen upside down. Flour dust on the counter, oil splatters near the stove, plates piled in the sink. If I leave it like this, I know Mumma will swoop in and start scrubbing before even touching her food. She can't bear a messy kitchen. 

I quickly fold the paranthas in silver foil, set them neatly on the coffee table  and return to the kitchen to clean my battlefield. Humming a tune under my breath, I wipe the countertop, rinse the utensils, and dry my hands on the towel.

Finally, I make my way to her room. As I push the door open, she steps out of the bathroom fresh from her shower. 

"Good morning, Mumma. Breakfast is ready," I say brightly, forcing a huge smile that hides the restless thoughts clawing inside me.

Her lips curve in return, her steps leading her toward me. "I thought you'd sleeping till noon, like yesterday."

How can i  waste my time sleeping when I know my train to back Delhi is tonight? I shake my head with a smile. "Ab main sara din so kar waqt thodi na gawara karungi."

(Now I can't waste the whole day just sleeping.)

She chuckles, sliding her dupatta into place as we walk together towards the living room. "Itni samajhdari raaton raat kahan se aa gayi?"

(How did  you suddenly become this sensible overnight?)

"Main paida hi samajhdaar hui thi, notice toh ab kiya hai aapne," I tease, nudging her playfully.

(I was born sensible, you just happened to notice it now.)

She shakes her head with mock exasperation but her eyes gleam with pride. Sitting down at the couch, her gaze scans the breakfast, impressed. We eat quietly, sharing the paranthas while her favourite reality show plays on TV. This is how we always spent our weekends. A Sunday ritual where i prepared the breakfast, eating together, sometimes binge watching Netflix and walking in the park downstairs in evening. Today feels like a fragile attempt to hold on to that routine which is anything but same. 

Just as we finish the breakfast. I turn to her. Understanding my body language she turns to me with knowing look every mother gives when she already knows what's on your mind. 

"I have noticed you have gotten close with that nurse. You shouldn't be so friendly with that woman." i said. 

I can't trust any person related to Rudra. Who knows what schemes he might be hiding behind these gentle gestures of care. After all he is the same man who married me on the name of my mother. 

"Anything else?" she says mockingly.

I sigh and sit down beside her, leaning into her warmth, resting my head on her shoulder. She pats my cheek gently before her hand slips to rest on my thigh. I entwine my fingers with hers, clinging to her like a lifeline.

"Mumma, call me anytime. Even if it's midnight, I'll answer no matter what. Don't miss any of your medical appointments, and don't worry about expenses, I'll take care of everything. Today, some people will come to install cameras in the apartment. So even if I'm not here, I'll still be watching you. You won't be able to hide from me. If you lie, I'll know immediately. Just... take care of yourself. I don't want to live if you're not with me. Others might find love in their partners, but my love and everything lies in you."

My eyes close as i say it. She inhales deeply, her thumb stroking the back of my hand with silent understanding. "I am not going anywhere until you are finally settled in your life. Don't worry so much about me Dishu. Focus on your career. I can manage everything myself."

I bite my lip, humming softly in reply, my eyes squeezed shut to keep the flood of dark thoughts at bay.

The rest of the day slips by in a blur of quiet routine. I pack my clothes into a large suitcase, carefully fold my laptop inside, gathering all the little essentials I'll need back in Delhi. Each item feels like a piece of home I'm carrying away, yet never enough to fill the void of leaving her behind.

By afternoon, two men arrive to install the CCTV cameras. I watch them work, guiding them around the apartment until every corner is secured, then sync the live feed to my phone. The sight of my mother's home on a small glowing screen brings me a strange comfort. 

Afterwards, I make all the grocery arrangement while telling the shopkeeper downstairs who supply grocery to all the people living in our apartment, ignoring my mothers nagging that she doesn't need me as much as I need her. She is right. She doesn't need me as much as I need her. That's the truth I can't swallow. People rarely care for themselves until the one who loves them has no choice but to step in. That's why I'm doing this not because she's helpless, but because I am.

By evening, I make a quick stop at my company to hand over my resignation letter. I gathered my stationary, few books lost in thoughts until i bumped into him. 

The nerdy colleague who i always looked at with a childish crush just to keep the things off my mind. Today he looked at me with something unspoken in his eyes. And then i finally understood. Regret. Maybe he also had feelings and wanted to say something all the while i flirted with him and looked forward to work with him. But now it's too late. My life has already spiraled into a mess and i have bigger demons to face. Who knows if fate circle us back someday after i have settled the war with my own dear husband i might come back to him and propose him myself. 

Finally the time to leave comes. Night falls quicker than i expected. My mother insisted on accompanying me to the railway station. Her stubbornness left me with no choice but to call the nurse and arrange for her to bring my mother back once i have boarded the train. 

So here we are. Me dragging my heavy suitcase across the bustling platform. The air buzzes with life, vendors are shouting, trains are hissing, children are crying, coolies rushing and the chaotic chorus of a place where thousands of goodbyes and reunions collide. Amid the chaos, my chest feels unbearably heavy. My bones tremble with silent fear as i cling to my mother's hand, each step towards the platform is like a dragging myself closer to a cliff. 

A sharp whistle cuts through the noise, the approaching train announcing my time is up.

I turn to her with thousand thoughts spiraling in my head. "Mumma, remember what I said. Don't trust anyone too much." I said while glancing at the nurse who smiles at me clearly understanding I mean her. 

I turn to my mother again, "Call me if you need me anytime and anywhere. And don't skip a single checkup. Please."

She smiles bravely. "I'll be fine. You take care of yourself there."

Fine. The word feels like a lie, but I nod anyway. I pull her into a hug, breathing in her familiar scent. The warmth of her skin, the faint fragrance of soap in her hair. I hold it inside me, desperate to keep it alive like a talisman against the loneliness waiting for me in Delhi. 

I turn to the nurse and hug her which means no warm. "I will be watching over you. If anything happened to my mother, you will be held accountable." I whisper and force a smile and head towards the waiting train.

I place my suitcase on entrance and get on. 

I glance one last time at her. She gives me the smile which means world to me. 

The whistle blows again longer this time and the train lurches forward. The platform slides away, her figure shrinking with each passing second. A stab of pain pierces through me, the distance mocking me, whispering of the future that waits ahead.

And in that hollow ache, I realize something bitter clear that this is the last day I will ever have that belongs only to me. Journey ahead is uncertain just like she said life is uncertain. But still no matter what life throws at me i will protect myself and my mother. 

I jerk my head back when her figure finally disappears from the sight, swallowed by the shrinking platform. My chest caves in, but I bite down hard on my lip tasting iron forcing myself to stay strong. My suitcase rattles as I drag it down the silent, hollow corridor of the compartment, tears welling in my eyes threatening to spill with every uneven step.

Relief strikes me when I realize, this entire bogey is empty. No strangers or witnesses. Just me and the heavy ache pressing against my ribs. I find my seat, slide the suitcase under it, and sink down. The loneliness of the next few hours spreads over me like a storm cloud.

I turn to the window, darkness rushing past. My tears blur the view but I don't let them fall. I can't cry. It  would make the emptiness real. I didn't let myself cry last night, neither now. 

Then, the silence shifts by a rustle of a presence. Someone slides into the seat across from me.  Quickly, I wipe the corners of my eyes, unwilling to let anyone catch me breaking.

And when I lift my head, my eyes meet those eyes. Darker, deeper, a molten honey-brown that glimmers under the silver wash of moonlight from the window.

My heart stumbles. The words escape before I can cage them.
"Why does your presence always bring pain and tears to me?"

The corner of his mouth curves, that familiar smirk slicing through me sharper than any blade. My gaze sticks there before I force it back to his eyes.
"Maybe, I'm the only one who could make your heart feel at ease, resulting in pouring out all your pain into me. " 

A bitter laugh escapes me. "More like stabbing me deeper into the abyss of pain i am trying to avoid."

He chuckles softly, leaning back with infuriating ease, his hand pressing deliberately against his shoulder, the very place I wounded him. "If anyone got stabbed, little one... it was me."

The words coil inside me, too heavy. I can't bear the pull of his gaze anymore. My chest constricts, tears burning again, and I shove myself up, intent on moving to another seat in the deserted coach.

But his hand catches me first. His fingers clamp around my wrist, firm, immovable. With one powerful jerk, he pulls me down, straight onto his lap. My body collides with his, his arms locking tight around me before I can even blink. 

"Let me go, Rudra!" I hiss, digging my nails into his wound, desperate to push him away. My face hovers a breath away from his, my pulse racing wild, while his breathing stays maddeningly calm, like it always does.

He tucks a stray strand of my platinum-blonde hair behind my ear, his hand lingering at the side of my face. And damn me, my skin betrays me, leaning into his touch even as hatred simmers in my chest.

His voice drops, steady, quiet, unbearably intimate. "I don't plan to force myself on you. Not then. Not now. Not ever." His thumb brushes my cheek, his eyes holding me captive. "Just hold on to me tonight. We can hate each other in morning."

And then, he pulls me against him. My head tucks beneath his chin, his warmth seeping into every frozen corner of me. His sudden softness slices through my defenses, catching me off guard. Against my will, his broad frame cocoons me, a shelter I never asked for but can't seem to escape.

For the first time in days, the walls inside me crack. His arms—strong and unyielding—becomes  the only place I can collapse when he is the same person i want to escape from. But the grief I've been swallowing claws its way out—the truth that my father, the man who once treated me like a princess, is gone forever. That my mother still clings to memories of a man who betrayed her, and I can't bear to tell her he's no longer breathing. That he left us once, but now he's left us for good.

The sob catches in my chest, raw and merciless. It break free with every murmur escaping from me. 

He's no more. No more. No more.