meet me in the afterglow

Chapter Three

Riddhima stepped into Sanjeevani with a determined look on her face. The last two days had been a welcome change from her now dreadful life. They'd helped her realize that there was so much more to her than just the accusations that seemed to floating in the Sanjeevani air. Yes, she'd accused Sid of rape. Yes, she'd understood that she had been wrong. She'd even apologized to him. And not just privately, she'd talked to him at the nurse station, in front of the entire hospital and begged him to forgive. She'd explained her side of the story - how she didn't have proper recollection of the previous night, how she'd seen him asleep beside her, taken in their disheveled state and just assumed the worst. She agreed that she shouldn't have done that. But, she reminded him, that she couldn't help thinking that way after the way he'd snuck into her room to click compromising pictures of the two of them without her knowledge. Yet, she realized she was wrong. And for that she was regretful. Sid had just stood there like a statue, not saying anything.

Even after that, the whispers followed her to every nook and corner of the hospital. People talked. They badmouthed her. Things were said about her character, her parents, even her marriage. After witnessing the entire debacle, she'd heard several people saying that her husband was smart, leaving when he did. That he must have understood her foul intentions. They said he was lucky to have understood her motives so quickly, only a week into their marriage. Otherwise, who knows, she might have accused him also.

More than anything, those comments hurt her the most. Her relationship with Armaan, their marriage, was the most important part of her life. It meant more to her than anything else in the world. It was tangible proof of her love for him, and his undying and unyielding love for her. These small minded people failed to understand the complexity and purity of her relationship with her husband. And that, hurt her most. She could bear anything in the world, but when people started pointing fingers at her marriage, she was unable to handle it.

She wished Armaan was still here with her. If he would have been, no one would be able to say a single word to her. He would have protected her from everything, just like he always had. Since waking up from her coma, there had been many days that Riddhima desperately needed the safety and comfort of her husband's arms, but since this scandal with Sid, those times had increased in ferocity and number. Armaan's absence from her life was really hitting her hard these days. She just wished that he would get better soon and come home to her as soon as possible. Yes, her parents had been tight-lipped on the issue, never telling her exactly why Armaan had left, just that he had. But, she knew her husband better than anyone else. She knew he must have left only because he felt unworthy. Her friends had wasted no time in assuming it was because the doctor had diagnosed her with a possibility of paralysis. Her diagnosis had been shared with the gang shortly before Armaan had disappeared into the wind and people just connected the dots, assuming it to be the reason. But, she knew better. She knew much, much better.

She smiled when she felt an arm on her shoulder. "Good morning, Ridz," Atul greeted her, kissing the top of her head.

"Morning, Atul," she replied, taking comfort in his brotherly embrace. In the past few days, Atul had been her rock. He'd understood her, even better than her parents. She would forever be grateful to him for everything he'd done for her. He was such a gem of a person and Riddhima was lucky to have him as a friend.

"So, aaj ke liye ready?" Atul asked her as he steered her into the direction of the entrance.

Riddhima gave a noncommittal shrug.

"Tension mat le, Ridz. Sab achcha hoga," he tried to assure her.

As Riddhima took one step inside the hospital, she stopped short. He's here, she thought. She could feel him. He was near. How? She wondered. Why now? Where had he been for so long?