“Speak up.” She urges me to speak, tightening her hold on my chin.
“Y-Yes,” I manage to let out a choking whisper.
“Good. Do it then,” she mutters and leaves the room, closing the door behind her.
“You’ve started talking back,” my father nears me and comments, blowing smoke into my face.
I cough as I take in the disgusting smell of the cigarette.
“You’re not afraid?” He asks and frowns as he tuts, “You should be, Shivani.” He walks to the table, mixes a tablet into a glass of water, and places it down.
“Drink it. It’ll help with the pain.” He moves to the door, but before stepping out of the room, he stops but doesn't turn around.
“And yeah—this was your last warning. Breathe a word, and your husband will be dead. Maybe his brakes fail. Maybe an electrical short circuit? I’ll let you choose.”
He pauses, looking back at me. Threats lay clear in his words and tone.
“So stop trying to be brave. You’re not. And you’re not beautiful either.” He walks out, and I crumble, breaking into pieces as I cry. Like always, that's all I ever do.
I remember the number of times this has happened—them torturing me and leaving me to cry.
34
RUDRAKSH
I hate it when Shivani goes to her house. Every time she comes back from there, she becomes reserved. Quiet and distant. She doesn’t share much. Doesn’t talk much. But I’ve had enough. Earlier, I used to drop the topic because I couldn't pry—we weren’t close, and honestly, I didn’t care that much. But I do now. More than before. More than I care about anyone else.
This time too, she came back reserved, with no shine in her eyes.
She’s standing on the balcony, looking at the moon, lost in her own world. Moonlight falls on her face; she looks like a dream. "You have to tell me, Shivani." I hug her from behind, urging her to tell me the truth.
"What?" She asks slowly. I turn her around to face me.
"You're hiding something." I look at her intensely. Her eyes widen only slightly, but she hides her shock and shakes her head. She's too easy to read; I don't know who told her that she could hide anything.
"Shivani, please. I’m your husband. I don't want any secrets between us, baby." As I tell her, I can feel her tensing up in my arms. It’s confirmed now—she’s hiding something, but shestill won’t admit it. I have to be careful. I don’t want to push too hard and make her withdraw even more.
I take a deep breath and try again. "Please, baby. Talk to me. You can trust me. I'm on your side, always." I hold her tighter, hoping to convey my sincerity through my touch. But she just shakes her head in denial.
"There’s nothing to share," she says, her voice wobbling. I take another breath, frustrated and upset.
I thought I was one step closer, with the way she's comfortable with my touch, with eating in front of me. I really thought we were getting somewhere. I want her to talk to me so badly. To let me in. To let me help her. But she just stands there, shutting me out. It’s maddening—to have the person I care most about in the world standing right in front of me and yet feel so far away from her.
I’m tempted to grab her and shake her, demanding she tell me what’s going on. But I know that won’t help. She needs me to be gentle. Patient. Understanding. So I kiss her forehead, slowly trailing down to her cheekbones. Her breath quickens at my actions, and I peck her lips softly.
"Come on, baby," I whisper against her mouth, my hand roaming over her back as I pull her tightly into me.
She winces, arching her back as I have hurt her. "Aah."
I step back immediately, looking at her with concern. "What happened?" I ask, my voice rising in concern.
"Nothing," she replies quickly as she tries to hide her discomfort, or more, something like pain. She avoids meeting my eyes as she wriggles in my grip. I look at her for a moment.Why? Anger surges through me. Did I do something to hurt her? I don't think so; I just hugged her.
"Are you in pain?" I ask again, breathing heavily.
She shakes her head furiously. "No," she says. "Nothing is wrong. I am not in pain. Please stop asking me that." Her eyes are wide, shimmering with unshed tears.
She’s furious.
