“Don’t bother to explain. All you need to know is that I’ve figured out how to survive without anyone swooping in. I don’t need you playing protector. So please, just leave.”
Time to play my dirty card.
I step in, close enough that she has to tilt her head to look up at me. My voice drops to a low whisper. “You know what?I’ve got a better idea than leaving.” I pause just long enough to watch her eyes narrow. “I’ll call Kavya. Tell her how her lovely sister is arguing with me again about taking a cab alone to physiotherapy.”
Her nostrils flare. “That’s low, even for you. Dragging Kavya into this.”
I shrug, completely unapologetic. “You left me no choice. You don’t listen to reason, so yeah, I’ll do whatever it takes.”
“You’re a devil in human form,” she hisses.
“Meh,” I shrug with a lopsided grin. “I’ve been called worse. You’re still being kind.”
That earns me a full-on glare. I just gesture towards my car.
“Let’s go, warrior. Today’s battlefield is physiotherapy, not me.”
“I hate you,” she mutters.
“No, you don’t.”
She stands there for a moment, arms crossed, probably weighing whether she can still win this one. Then, with a dramatic groan of defeat, she brushes past me, walks to the car, and slides into the passenger seat, slamming the door shut.
“Don’t you dare try to make conversation with me,” she warns, fastening her seatbelt with unnecessary aggression, just as I settle into the driver’s seat.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I say with a smirk, as I fasten my own seatbelt. “I was planning to blast Punjabi rap all the way anyway.”
She shoots me a sideways glare. “I swear to God, Sidharth, you are insufferable.”
“And yet, here you are,” I say, putting the car in gear. “Riding shotgun.”
She shakes her head and stares out the window, muttering something under her breath that I’m sure isn’t a compliment. But a grin tugs at my lips anyway, because to me, it’s anotherbattle won. Not that I’m keeping score. Okay, maybe I’m. But only because each win brings me a step closer to her. To the walls she keeps up. To the heart she’s still protecting.
Chapter 9
Nisha
“You did really well today, Nisha,” Dr. Tanushree says with a warm smile. “This was your last physiotherapy session, and I have to say, I’m proud of how far you’ve come.”
I fidget in the seat across from her and glance up at the elderly woman. Dr. Tanushree has always been kind, patient, and supportive in a way that comforted me and gave me strength. But now, hearing her say I’m physically fine and no longer need therapy, doesn’t feel like the victory it should. There’s a strange heaviness in my chest I can’t seem to shake.
How I wish there were a machine that could detect the kind of scars that don’t show up on X-rays or in reports. Because the real damage isn’t in my body anymore, it’s inside me. Quiet, but deep. And the truth is, I don’t even know how to begin healing that… or if I ever really will.
I glance up at her, my eyes suddenly teary.
“It’s just…” My fingers knot together in my lap as I speak, my voice faltering. “I know I’m better. But inside, I’m not sure I’m healed.” I swallow hard, my eyes fixed on the edge of her desk, struggling to put words to something I can barely understand myself. “There’s this voice in my head thatkeeps taunting me, telling me I’ll never be normal again. The nightmares, the panic attacks… they’re always there, lurking in the background, waiting to pull me back every time I try to move forward.”
When I don’t hear her reply, I glance up to find Dr. Tanushree watching me in silence, her expression softened by something that looks achingly close to motherly concern.
She leans forward slightly and folds her hands on the desk.
“Nisha, I may be your physiotherapist, but over these past weeks, I’ve come to care about more than just your physical recovery.”
My throat tightens as she offers a reassuring smile and continues.
“I get it that sometimes, the hardest wounds to heal are the ones no one else can see. What you’re feeling… it’s understandable. And that’s why I want you to consider talking to Dr. Malhotra, the psychiatrist on our team. He’s kind, patient, and more importantly, he helps people fight the battles no one else sees. The ones inside.”
She reaches out and places her hand over mine. “You’ve come this far, Nisha. Let’s not stop now. Healing doesn’t end just because the body stops hurting. And it’s okay to admit that we still need help.”
