A soft knock pulls me back to reality. I open my eyes to see the older woman I’ve come to know as Sunita Aunty, the one who’s been caring for me all this time, step into the room with a bouquet of flowers. Her green sari is neatly pleated, and her silver-streaked hair is tied back.
“How are you feeling, beta?” she asks gently, placing the flowers on the bedside table.
I try to smile, but it falters before it can reach my lips. My voice comes out as a broken whisper. “I… I don’t know.”
She pulls the chair closer and sits beside me, brushing a strand of hair from my face with the kind of tenderness only a mother would show.
“I know it feels like everything’s changed,” she says softly. “And in many ways, it has. But you’re still here, Nisha. That means something. You fought your way back.”
Tears sting my eyes, blurring the kind lines of her face. I want to believe her. I really do. I want to believe that it’s all over, that I am safe now, that I can just pick up the broken pieces and move forward.
But I can’t. Because all I can feel is the crushing weight of guilt pressing down on my chest like a boulder. I can’t just turn a blind eye to the truth that I am the reason it all fell apart.
My parents.
My best friend.
I lost them… and it’s all my fault.
Sunita Aunty checks the IV line connected to my hand, then gently lifts the blanket and tucks it carefully around my chestbefore smoothing it back over my stomach. There’s something in the tenderness of her movements that makes my throat tighten. How many days had she done this, patiently, while I just… lay there, lost to the world?
“Aunty, what about Kavya? Is she okay?” I ask, my voice still a little hoarse from disuse. It was the first thing I asked the doctors when I regained consciousness, and even though they and Inspector Viraj assured me she’s fine, I need to hear it again. It’s become a compulsion now, like I have to ask everyone who walks through that door, just to breathe a little easier.
She gives me a warm smile. “She’s fine, beta. Just a little too worried about you.”
I exhale slowly, some of the tightness in my chest easing.
“She wanted to be here,” Sunita Aunty informs me, her fingers threading gently through my hair. “But Reyansh wouldn’t let her leave the hospital bed. Not until the doctor gives her a proper green signal.”
I can’t help the small smile that tugs at my lips. It’s the first bit of good news I’ve heard since waking from the coma… that my sister found her forever in Reyansh, and not that lying, cheating Deepak I always hated.
And even though my heart swells, overflowing with happiness for her, there’s still an ache buried beneath the joy. A pang of missing out. I wasn’t there when it all happened. I wasn’t by her side. But then, I push that ache aside. Life has handed me a second chance, and I am going to make it count. I’ll be there for her now.
“He loves her that much?” I ask, even though I already know the answer. I saw it in his eyes when he came to check on me. The way he spoke about my sister, the warmth and care shining through his eyes, told me all that I needed to know. It was clear how much she means to him, and what a gem of a person he truly is.
Sunita Aunty chuckles, a sparkle lighting up her eyes. “More than anything, beta. You should’ve seen him, arguing with the nurse about checking on Kavya every twenty minutes, like he thought he could do a better job himself. Pregnancy has made him more protective than ever.”
“She’s… she’s really going to be a mom?” I ask, barely able to get the words out as emotion swells in my throat.
Aunty nods. “Yes. And you can’t imagine how happy and thrilled she is.”
I let that sink in. A baby. My big sister, who always worried too much, cried too easily, and held my hand like I might vanish if she let go… she’s bringing a new life into this world. And somewhere, deep within the storm of everything I’ve lost, something warm begins to stir.
I smile again. “She always wanted a house full of kids.”
Sunita Aunty squeezes my hand. “She still wants the same.”
We sit in silence for a few moments before she speaks again, her voice softer than before.
“Nisha, I know everything feels overwhelming right now, but all you need to focus on is that you still have people who love you. Once you’re out of this hospital, you’ll see it for yourself that you’re not alone. Not even close.”
I blink back the sting in my eyes and cling to the edges of my control, afraid that if I even let one tear fall, I won’t be able to stop.
“When will I be discharged, Aunty?” I ask quietly.
“In two days,” Sunita Aunty replies, still holding my hand, her thumb tracing slow, soothing circles over my knuckles, as if trying to comfort me. “The doctors just want to run a few more routine tests. Then you’ll be home.”
I look into her eyes when she says the wordhome. Too many emotions rise at once—grief, longing, guilt, all crashing over me like a tide I can’t outrun.
