The next day—or rather, afternoon—Aakash finally woke up to a strangely quiet house. He had skipped the gym that morning, something he rarely did, and had taken his shower at around noon. His wife was nowhere to be seen, but that didn’t concern him. He knew exactly where she was. Shashi was at the hospital, buried in her work as the dedicated doctor she was. So, for once, Aakash had no reason to worry. His day was quiet, almost peaceful, as he ate lunch in the comfort of his room while binge-watching some ridiculous reality television show. Today, there was no trace of the perfectly composed Doctor everyone knew. He was simply Aakash—the one who could still behave like a carefree twenty-two-year-old when he was alone.

Downstairs, everyone else was lost in their own little worlds. Aakriti and Sarthak sat with Aarav, helping him paint while he enthusiastically covered the pages in bright, uneven strokes. In the kitchen, Dadi Saa (grandmother) and Aparna were busy separating and sorting the vegetables that had arrived fresh from their own farm. Laughter occasionally drifted through the halls, mixing with the clatter of utensils and Aarav's excited little voice.

The family was happy.

The house was alive.

Until it wasn't.

Aakash's phone suddenly rang.

He glanced at the screen, expecting another insignificant call, but the moment he saw the hospital's name flashing across it, something inside him shifted. His brows furrowed as he answered.

"Hello?"

There was barely a second of silence before his entire expression changed.

His eyes widened. The colour drained from his face, and his fingers tightened around the phone until his knuckles turned white.

"Shashi?"

Whatever he heard on the other end made his heart drop.

He grabbed his car keys without another thought and bolted out of his room, taking the stairs two at a time.

"BHAAAIIII!" (Brother!)

Everyone downstairs turned toward him at once.

Aparna immediately got to her feet, an alarm flashing across her face. "K-kya hua, beta?" (What happened, son?)

"I... Ira..."

That was enough.

The moment Sarthak heard his daughter's name, he stood up so abruptly that the chair scraped against the floor. His face hardened with fear.

"Call security. Now."

Nobody questioned him.

Within minutes, the entire family was rushing toward the hospital, the cars speeding through the streets as panic settled heavily over them. Aakash barely noticed anything around him. His mind was filled with one thought and one thought alone.

Shashi.

When they finally reached the hospital, Aakash was out of the car before it had even come to a complete stop. He rushed inside, his eyes frantically scanning the corridors.

"Shashi!"

Nothing.

He pushed past people, searching every room, every corridor, every familiar face.

Then he stopped.

There was blood splattered across the hospital floor.

For a moment, the entire world seemed to freeze.

Aakash stared at it, his breathing becoming heavier with every passing second. His jaw clenched as something primal and terrifying took over his expression.

He turned sharply toward the nearest hospital staff member.

"Where the fuck is Abhishek?" Aakash roared.

His voice echoed through the corridor, making every person nearby flinch.

The man swallowed hard before answering, his voice trembling. "He... left after her."

Aakash's eyes narrowed.

"What the hell happened here?" Sarthak demanded, his voice carrying the same fear and fury that had consumed everyone else.

Nobody answered immediately.

And somehow, that silence was more terrifying than the blood staining the floor.

FLASHBACK — TWO HOURS EARLIER

Two hours earlier, Shashi was still inside the operating theatre.

The surgery had gone exceptionally well. She had been precise, focused, and composed throughout the entire procedure, just as she always was. But beneath the surgical mask and the controlled movements, her body was begging her to stop. She had been exhausted since morning. A dull ache had settled into her lower back hours ago, occasionally turning into a sharp sting whenever she moved. Her head had been spinning on and off, but she had managed it. She had taken some glucose solution earlier, stabilising her sugar levels enough to continue with the surgeries scheduled for the day. She hadn't broken protocol. She hadn't compromised her patients. She had simply pushed herself through the exhaustion because there were still people who needed her.

After the successful surgery, she changed out of her scrubs, washed her hands and face, and stepped into the corridor.

She barely made it three steps.

"DR. OBEROI!"

The shout tore through the corridor.

Shashi flinched violently.

Her shoulders stiffened, and her eyes immediately burned with tears—not because the voice had frightened her, but because she had nothing left inside her to absorb another blow. She was exhausted. Her body hurt. Her head was still spinning. And now this.

She turned slowly.

A senior doctor was standing several feet away, furious.

"Have you fucking lost your mind, Shashi?"

She stared at him, confused.

"What?"

"Do you think you own this hospital?" he thundered. "Huh? Do you think because you're everyone's favourite little doctor, you can do whatever the hell you want?"

Shashi's lips parted, but no words came.

"You could have killed someone today!"

The accusation hit harder than the shouting.

"I—"

"Who the hell gave you the right to make that decision in the OT?"

"I made the decision because—"

"Because what?"

His voice became louder.

"Because you thought you were smarter than everyone else?"

People had begun to gather at a distance. Nurses stopped moving. A few doctors glanced toward them before quickly looking away.

Shashi could feel every pair of eyes on her.

She swallowed.

"I followed the patient's condition and—"

"Don't give me that bullshit."

His expression twisted with contempt.

"Girls like you are only experts at impressing men and seeking attention. God knows who handed you that degree, because you certainly don't deserve it."

Something inside Shashi went completely still.

The words didn't merely hurt.

They landed somewhere deeper.

Somewhere already bruised.

Her eyes filled completely, but she refused to let the tears fall.

The senior doctor continued.

"You should return that degree to whatever prestigious institute gave it to you. You aren't even worthy of being called a doctor."

Doctor.

The word echoed inside her head.

Doctor.

The title she had worked years for.

The title she had sacrificed sleep, comfort, friendships, pieces of herself for.

And suddenly, all she could hear was his voice telling her she wasn't worthy of it.

Her breathing became shallow.

Her fingers trembled.

Beside the senior doctor, a nurse stood frozen, holding a stainless-steel tray filled with surgical instruments.

Shashi's eyes drifted toward it.

For a second, she simply stared.

The corridor blurred around her.

The voices disappeared.

The lights above her seemed unbearably bright.

Something inside her cracked.

Not loudly.

Not dramatically.

Just enough.

"Doctor kehlane ke bhi layak nahi ho tum, ladki." (You're not even worthy of being called a doctor.)

Enough.

Shashi reached toward the tray.

The nurse's eyes widened.

"Ma'am—"

Too late.

What happened next unfolded so quickly that nobody had time to understand it.

There was a scream.

The tray crashed against the floor.

Metal instruments scattered across the tiles.

People froze.

And then the corridor erupted into chaos.

The senior doctor stumbled backward, clutching himself as panic overtook his face. Someone screamed for security. Another nurse ran toward the emergency station. Doctors rushed forward, only to stop when Shashi turned toward them.

There was blood on her face.

For several seconds, she simply stood there.

Breathing.

Staring.

Almost as though she herself couldn't understand what she had just done.

Then the senior doctor looked at her.

And Shashi looked back.

There was no fear in her eyes anymore.

Only exhaustion.

A terrifying, hollow calm.

"I hope you die," she whispered, her voice barely audible beneath the chaos. "And never blame me again."

She turned away.

Someone called her name.

"Dr. Oberoi!"

She didn't stop.

She stepped over the fallen equipment and walked down the corridor as alarms began ringing behind her.

"Stop her!"

Nobody moved quickly enough.

Shashi kept walking.

Past the nurses.

Past the doctors.

Past the patients and terrified attendants who stared at her in disbelief.

Her white coat followed behind her with every step.

The same white coat she had once been so proud to wear.

The same coat that, only minutes ago, had represented everything she had spent her life becoming.

Now it felt like a stranger's skin.

Behind her, Abhishek finally broke through the crowd.

"SHASHI!"

She didn't turn.

"Shashi, stop!"

She kept walking.

Abhishek ran after her.

And somewhere behind them, the hospital descended into absolute chaos.

FLASHBACK ENDS 

Aakash stood completely still as he listened to what had happened at the hospital. His mind refused to process anything beyond one desperate question.

Where was she?

Where was his wife?

Where was his Ira?

He didn't waste another second. He traced her location, and the entire family followed him. Even at full speed, it took nearly an hour to reach the outskirts of the city. The roads gradually grew emptier until the buildings disappeared altogether, replaced by abandoned stretches of land and an eerie silence that seemed to swallow every sound.

When Aakash stepped out of the car, he froze.

The scene in front of him shattered something inside his chest.

There she was.

Shashi.

His wife. His everything.

She stood in the middle of the empty ground, gripping a metal rod in her trembling hands as she smashed the windows of her car again and again. Whatever rage had been trapped inside her for years seemed to be pouring out with every strike. Broken glass lay scattered around her feet, and pieces of it had embedded themselves in her palm. Blood ran down her fingers, dripping onto the ground, but she didn't seem to notice.

"AAARGHH!"

Her scream tore through the silence.

Several members of the Oberoi security team stood around her, their heads lowered respectfully, not daring to move closer.

"I FUCKING HATE THIS LIFE!" she screamed, striking the car again. "I HATE IT!"

Another violent swing.

Another crash.

"Don't come near me!" she suddenly screamed when one of the guards instinctively stepped forward. "I swear, if anyone takes another step, I'll—I'll kill you with my bare hands! Go away! Just fucking go away!"

Aakash couldn't move.

He had seen Shashi angry.

He had seen her stubborn.

He had seen her cry.

But this?

This was different.

This was a woman who didn't know where her pain ended and her rage began.

"Iraa..." His voice cracked.

She didn't hear him.

Aakash's eyes dropped to her hand.

A sharp piece of glass was lodged in her palm, and when she tightened her grip around the rod, it cut deeper. Blood immediately ran down her wrist.

That was enough.

Whatever restraint he had left disappeared.

"Iraaa!"

Aakash ran toward her.

He reached her before anyone could stop him and pulled the rod from her hands, throwing it aside. Shashi immediately tried to reach for it again, but Aakash caught both her wrists.

"IRAAA," he whispered, his voice breaking.

"GO AWAY!"

She struggled against him, tears streaming down her face.

"Aakash, go away! You don't know anything about me! You don't know any of this! Leave me alone!"

"I won't."

"Please!"

"I won't leave you."

"Don't make me say something I don't mean!"

"Then don't say anything."

She stared at him through tear-filled eyes.

Aakash's breathing was uneven, his own eyes burning.

"Never," he whispered. "Never in my entire life will I leave you. Even if I wanted to, I wouldn't know how. I don't know how to breathe without you anymore."

Something inside Shashi finally gave way.

Her knees buckled.

She sank onto the ground.

Aakash immediately dropped down beside her.

"Please, Aakash..." she sobbed. "I might say something in anger..."

"Then say it."

She looked at him.

"You have every right to be angry. You have every right to scream. You have every right to hate what happened. But don't hurt yourself because of it."

Her lips trembled.

And then she broke.

Aakash pulled her into his arms, and she collapsed against his chest, sobbing so violently that her entire body shook. He wrapped both arms around her, holding her as though letting go wasn't an option.

His palm moved gently over her back.

"Aapko zara bhi taras nahi aata khud par?" he whispered, his own voice trembling. "Kya haalat bana li hai apni? Khud ka nahi, toh ek baar mera hi socha hota. Aapko dard mein nahi dekh sakta main. Bohot takleef hoti hai mujhe."

(Do you have even a little mercy for yourself? Look at what you've done to yourself. If you couldn't think about yourself, you could have thought about me once. I can't bear seeing you in pain. It hurts me too much.)

Shashi slowly lifted her face from his chest.

Aakash gently wiped the tears beneath her eyes.

"Dekhiye..." he whispered. "Aapki aankhein kaise laal ho gayi hain. Itni sundar aankhon mein aansu achhe nahi lagte mujhe."

(Look at you... your eyes have turned so red. I don't like seeing tears in such beautiful eyes.)

His voice cracked.

"Ek ajeeb sa dard ho raha hai. Please rona band kardo. Please."

(There's this strange pain in my chest. Please stop crying. Please.)

Shashi shook her head.

"Main bohot buri aulad hoon, Aakash."

Her voice was barely audible.

"Har kisi ko sirf takleef hi di hai maine. Mujhe sirf dard dena hi aata hai. Main kabhi bhi kisi ki pasand nahi ban sakti. Mere apno ko bhi mujhse takleef hoti hai, Aakash."

(I'm a terrible daughter, Aakash. I've only ever caused pain to everyone. I only know how to hurt people. I'll never be someone's favourite. Even the people who love me end up getting hurt because of me.)

Aakash stared at her.

Then he gently held her face between his hands.

"Meri aankhon mein dekhiye."

(Look into my eyes.)

She hesitated.

"Please."

Her eyes met his.

"Kya dikh raha hai?"

(What do you see?)

She didn't answer.

"Yeh aansu kis ke liye hain?" he asked softly. "Yeh dard kis ke liye hai? Humare poore parivaar ko dekhiye. Sab yahan kisliye khade hain?"

(Whose tears are these? Who is this pain for? Look at our entire family. Why do you think everyone is standing here?)

He brushed another tear from her cheek.

"Aapko kisne keh diya ki aapko koi nahi chahta? Kahan se aaya yeh saara kachra aapke dimaag mein?"

(Who told you that nobody loves you? Where did all this poison in your head come from?)

His voice softened.

"My whole family adores you, Shashi. You are loved here. You're wanted here. And you don't have to earn that."

She looked away.

"Nahi, Aakash..."

Her voice trembled.

"Har kisi ke paas koi na koi hota hai. Har koi mujhse behtar hai. Meri kisi ko zarurat nahi hai..."

She swallowed hard.

"Main... agar na rahun toh..."

Aakash's expression changed immediately.

He gently but firmly made her look at him again.

"Meri aankhon mein dekhiye."

She did.

"Yeh baat dobara kabhi mat kehna."

(Look into my eyes. Never say that again.)

His voice was low now, but every word carried absolute certainty.

"Aapko pata hai na, main kab se keh raha hoon shant ho jao? Lekin aap roye ja rahi hain. Dekhiye meri haalat. Aapko sach mein nahi dikh raha main kis haal mein hoon?"

(Do you know how long I've been asking you to calm down? But you keep crying. Look at me. Can't you see what this is doing to me?)

His thumb brushed beneath her eye.

"Kaise keh sakti hain aap ki aapki kisi ko zarurat nahi?"

(How can you say that nobody needs you?)

He pulled her back against his chest.

"Please, calm down. Aur agar rona hai... toh meri baahon mein royiye."

(Please calm down. And if you need to cry, then cry in my arms.)

Shashi closed her eyes.

"Khudko meri aadat mat banne do..." she whispered. "Tumhe takleef hogi, Aakash."

(Don't let yourself get used to me. You'll only get hurt, Aakash.)

Aakash held her tighter.

"Agar takleef hogi bhi..." he murmured against her hair, "toh yeh meri zindagi ki sabse khoobsurat takleef hogi, mera bachcha."

(Even if it hurts... this will be the most beautiful pain of my life, my love.)

For the first time since they had arrived, Shashi stopped fighting.

She simply let herself be held.

After a while, Aakash slowly helped her to her feet.

Shashi looked around.

Her family stood there in silence.

Ashamed, exhausted, frightened—but still there.

Her eyes filled again.

"I'm sorry."

Aparna immediately walked toward her.

"Maa hoon main teri."

(I'm your mother.)

Shashi's lips trembled.

"Teri takleef samajhti hoon, beta. Par gusse mein aakar khudko takleef mat dena kabhi."

(I'm your mother, Shashi. I understand your pain, beta. But never hurt yourself in anger again.)

Aparna pulled her into a hug.

"I'm so sorry, Mumma," Shashi whispered.

Aparna froze.

Mumma.

The word seemed to hit somewhere deep inside her.

She slowly cupped Shashi's face and kissed both her cheeks.

"Tu ne mujhe apni maa ki jagah rakha hai... wahi mere liye kaafi hai, beta."

(You placed me in your mother's place... and that alone is enough for me, beta.)

Sarthak stepped closer, trying to bring some warmth back into the unbearable silence.

"Come home now. Your pie must be waiting for his cupcake."

A faint, broken smile appeared on his face.

Shashi looked at him.

"Bhai..."

Sarthak's expression softened.

"Haan, beta?"

(I’m here, beta.)

She hesitated.

"I... I want to say something."

Everyone went quiet.

Shashi looked down at her bloodied hands.

"Main bohot buri hoon."

(I know I'm a terrible person.)

Her voice cracked.

"Par main aisi nahi banna chahti thi, bhai."

(But I never wanted to become like this.)

She took a shaky breath.

"Us aadmi ne... usne bohot kuch kaha. Aisi baatein kahi jo..." Her voice faltered. "Mere dimaag ne kaam karna band kar diya. Aur maine..."

She couldn't finish the sentence.

Sarthak didn't make her.

Shashi finally whispered, "Maine us par hamla kar diya."

(I attacked him.)

She looked up at him, tears spilling again.

"But bhai..."

Her voice was small.

"Is baar... maine kuch galat nahi kiya tha."

Sarthak's heart broke at the confession.

He stepped forward and pulled his sister into his arms.

"You don't have to explain yourself to anyone, beta."

He held her tighter.

"Not anymore."

And for the first time that day, Shashi allowed herself to believe that perhaps she didn't have to carry everything alone.

The night had grown quiet by the time they returned home. The mansion, which usually carried the sounds of conversations, laughter, footsteps and the occasional argument over something insignificant, seemed to have fallen into an unnatural silence. Everyone had returned from the lawn, but nobody had really gone to their rooms. They were scattered around the sitting area, pretending to do something while keeping their attention fixed on Shashi.

She sat outside in the lawn, away from everyone.

The bandages around her palms were still fresh, and her fingers trembled occasionally despite her best efforts to keep them still. Aakash sat a little distance away, giving her the space she needed but never taking his eyes off her. He had learned by now that sometimes loving Shashi meant knowing when to hold her and when to simply stay close enough for her to know that she wasn't alone.

Aparna finally walked toward her and sat beside her on the garden bench.

"Beta..."

Shashi didn't look at her.

For a few seconds, she simply stared at the flowers in front of her.

Then she whispered, "Mujhe kuch kehna hai." (I need to say something.)

Everyone became still.

Aakash straightened slightly.

Shashi took a deep breath, but it wasn't enough. Her lungs already felt strangely heavy.

"I don't know how to say it," she admitted. "I've spent so many years pretending that none of it affected me that now I don't even know where the pretending ends and the real me begins."

Aparna's eyes immediately filled with tears.

"Shashi, you don't have to—"

"I do, Mumma."

The word came out softly.

Mumma.

Aparna stopped.

Shashi looked down at her hands.

"I think... maybe everyone deserves to know why I'm like this. Why I get angry so easily. Why I can't handle being compared to someone. Why one small mistake feels like the end of the world to me. Why sometimes I react to things that other people don't even understand."

She swallowed.

"Because for me, those things have never been small."

The lawn remained silent.

"I was eight," she began.

Her voice was distant, almost as though she were speaking about another little girl.

"I was only eight years old when I first understood that something was wrong in my house. I didn't understand what was happening between my parents. I didn't understand the words they used or why they hated each other so much. I just knew that whenever Papa came home angry, the entire house changed."

She looked toward the dark windows of the mansion.

"I remember lying in bed one afternoon. Mumma had given me medicine and told me to sleep. I couldn't. I heard Papa come home, and then I heard them fighting. I didn't even know what they were fighting about. I only knew that Mumma was crying."

Her lips trembled.

"And I remember thinking that if I stayed very quiet, maybe they wouldn't know I was awake. Maybe the fighting would stop."

She gave a faint, broken laugh.

"It didn't."

Aakash's jaw tightened.

"The fights never stopped."

Her eyes slowly moved toward him.

"They became normal. That's the worst part. When you're a child, you think everything your family does is normal because you don't know anything else. I thought every child woke up because their parents were screaming at each other. I thought every child knew how to tell from someone's footsteps whether they were angry. I thought every child knew when to stay in their room and when to pretend they hadn't heard anything."

She paused, her breathing already becoming uneven.

"Didu knew too."

Her expression softened for a moment.

"She was older than me. She understood more than I did. She tried to protect me whenever she could, but she was a child too. What could she have done?"

Shashi looked down again.

"We grew up watching them fight. We grew up watching things we shouldn't have seen. We learned how to become invisible in our own home."

Aparna covered her mouth, fighting her tears.

"And then came the comparisons."

Shashi's expression changed.

That word alone seemed to carry years of resentment.

"Laksha."

She said the name quietly.

"I don't hate her."

She immediately clarified, as if afraid someone might misunderstand.

"I never hated her. She was my sister. She was never the problem."

Her eyes hardened.

"The problem was what everyone made me feel whenever she was around."

She took a slow breath.

"She was the good daughter. The responsible daughter. The daughter who knew how to behave. The daughter who made everyone proud."

Her fingers tightened around the edge of her dress.

"And I was... what?"

Nobody answered.

"The difficult one."

She smiled bitterly.

"The stubborn one. The emotional one. The daughter who argued too much. The daughter who never knew how to behave properly. The daughter who always had some problem."

She laughed under her breath.

"I could get ninety-eight and they would ask why I didn't get a hundred. Laksha could get something less and they would say she had done well."

Aparna whispered, "Shashi..."

"But it wasn't just marks."

Her voice grew heavier.

"It was everything."

She looked at Aparna.

"If Laksha wanted something, it was considered a necessity. If I wanted the same thing, I was being demanding. If she made a mistake, someone would explain it to her. If I made one..."

She stopped.

Her eyes became distant.

"If I made one, they made sure I remembered it."

The words came slowly now.

"They would bring it up again and again. Weeks later. Months later. Sometimes years later. One mistake became my identity. If I forgot something, I was careless. If I defended myself, I was disrespectful. If I cried, I was dramatic. If I stayed quiet, I was arrogant."

Her voice cracked.

"I couldn't win."

Aakash's eyes had become wet.

"I started believing that there was something fundamentally wrong with me."

She pressed her palm against her chest.

"Do you know what that does to a child?"

Nobody spoke.

"You stop trusting yourself."

She looked at her family.

"You start thinking that every decision you make is probably wrong. You start apologising before anyone even tells you what you did. You start looking at people's faces before speaking because you're trying to figure out whether they're going to be angry."

Her breathing became slightly quicker.

"I became scared of making mistakes."

She smiled sadly.

"And then I became even more scared of being seen making them."

Aakash slowly moved closer.

Shashi noticed but didn't stop him.

"There were days when I would sit alone in my room and rehearse what I wanted to say because I was terrified that if I said it the wrong way, someone would shout at me."

She wiped the corner of her eye.

"I started keeping things to myself. My problems. My anger. My sadness. Everything."

She looked at Aakash.

"Because I learned that talking about pain only gave people another thing they could use against me."

Aakash's expression broke.

"And then when I became a teenager, I started fighting back."

Her voice changed.

"I couldn't stay quiet anymore."

She shook her head.

"Maybe that was my biggest mistake."

"You spoke up because you were hurting," Sarthak said quietly.

Shashi looked at him.

"But nobody saw the hurting part."

Her eyes filled again.

"They only saw the anger."

She looked down at the grass.

"I became the villain the moment I stopped accepting everything silently."

A long silence followed.

"Do you know what they used to tell me?"

Nobody answered.

"That I was becoming just like my father."

Her face crumpled slightly.

"I hated hearing that."

She pressed her hands against her temples.

"Because I was terrified of becoming him."

Her breathing became noticeably faster.

"I didn't want to hurt people. I didn't want to scream. I didn't    want to become angry. I didn't want to carry hatred around with me."

She looked at her trembling hands.

"But what happens when you're angry for years and nobody lets you talk about it?"

Aakash whispered, "Shashi..."                                 

"I tried to become better."

Her voice was beginning to shake.

"I tried so hard."

She looked at him desperately.

"I studied. I worked. I became a doctor. I thought maybe then they would finally be proud of me."

A tear rolled down her cheek.

"I thought if I became successful enough, maybe I could finally prove that I wasn't useless."

She laughed through her tears.

"But even then..."

She shook her head.

"It never felt like enough."

Her chest tightened.

"I left for Delhi because Didu sent me away. I thought distance would help. And for a while, it did. I learned to live alone. I learned to take care of myself. I learned not to expect anyone to come when I needed them."

She looked toward the house.

"But there was always this stupid little part of me..."

Her voice softened.

"...that still wanted my mother."

Aparna's tears finally fell.

"I wanted to come home after a bad day and put my head in her lap. I wanted to complain about everything. I wanted to tell her that college was difficult. That people judged me. That I was lonely."

Her lips trembled.

"I wanted her to tell me that I was doing okay."

Aparna lowered her head.

"I wanted Papa to tell me he was proud of me."

The silence that followed was unbearable.

Shashi inhaled sharply.

"But I never asked."

"Why?" Aakash asked softly.

"Because..."

She looked at him.

"...I already taught myself not to expect it."

"But today..."

Her voice broke.

"Today that doctor said all those things, and suddenly I was eight again."

Everyone froze.

"I wasn't standing in that hospital anymore."

She swallowed painfully.

"I was back at home."

Her eyes became unfocused.

"I could hear them."

Aakash squeezed her hand.

"I could hear every word. Every comparison. Every insult. Every time someone told me I wasn't good enough."

Her breaths came faster.

"Every time I was told that I had ruined something."

"Shashi, breathe."

"I tried."

She pressed her palm against her chest.

"I tried, Aakash."

Her voice became frantic.

"But I couldn't."

She looked around, suddenly frightened.

"I couldn't hear him anymore. I could only hear them."

Her breathing was now shallow and rapid.

"I couldn't stop it."

Aakash immediately moved in front of her.

"Look at me."

"I can't breathe."

"You're okay."

"I can't."

"You're here with me."

"No, no, no..."

Her hands began trembling violently.

"I don't want to go back."

Aakash held her face.

"You aren't there."

"I don't want to be that little girl anymore."

"You're not."

"I don't want to be the bad daughter."

"You're not."

"I don't want to be compared anymore."

"You won't be."

"I don't want to be alone."

Aakash's voice broke.

"You aren't alone."

She clutched his shirt.

"Please don't leave me."

"Never."

Her eyes squeezed shut.

"I tried to be good."

"You are good."

"I tried so hard."

"I know."

"I just wanted them to love me."

Aakash pulled her against his chest.

"They do."

She shook her head against him.

"No..."

"They do."

"No one..."

"They do, Shashi."

Her body suddenly went rigid.

Aakash felt her weight change.

"Ira?"

She blinked slowly.

Her face had gone pale.

"Aakash..."

"I'm here."

"I feel..."

Her voice faded.

"Shashi?"

Her fingers loosened from his shirt.

Aakash caught her just as her body gave out.

"Shashi!"

Aparna rushed forward.

"Beta!"

Sarthak immediately called for help while Aakash lowered her carefully onto the grass, panic flashing across his face.

"Shashi, open your eyes."

Nothing.

"Baby, please."

Still nothing.

Aakash held her hand between both of his.

The same hands that had been trembling with rage only hours ago were now completely limp in his.

He looked at her pale face and felt something inside him collapse.

For years, Shashi had carried the belief that she was the difficult daughter, the lesser daughter, the one who was never enough.

And tonight, for the first time, they had finally understood something.

She hadn't been born angry.

She had been hurt until anger became the only language she knew.

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ATLEAST SHOW SOME EMPATHY FOR HER IN THE COMMENT SECTION DEAR READERS.

HOPE YOU LIKED IT.

NOTE- THIS IS NOT DONE YET YOU HAVEN'T SEEN HER ENTIRE PAST NOW, IT'S WAY MORE BRUTUAL THAN THAT