𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐃 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌 (on-hold)

40: His love is rough

With each ring, as I held the phone close to my ear, I wished him to pick up at once, and tell me that he was fine and coming home. That whatever nightmare was piercing the fog of my mind wouldn't be true.

"Bhabhi, I'll find him. Calm yourself, please." Tanmay is whispering, his hand stroking mine tenderly. My tears are continual, rolling down my cheeks unstoppably as I look at him, his eyes so full of reassurance. 

"I don't need your reassurance. I need my Nischay back!" I spat, pulling my hand away from his hold. "Safe and fine, without any scratch as he was, you hear me?"

Tanmay stays silent, his face pitying my state as he stares at me.

My upheaval gains a slightest of relief when the call connects fortunately, and I immediately breathe, "Nischay?" his name lingered on my lips, a gasp, a flicker of life to my unending hell. "How could you leave without telling me? Where are you?"

Tanmay looks at me, his eyes hopeful. All the while hoping that a sound could come from his side, I wished. 

After a few seconds of agonizing silence, a faint chuckle is heard from Nischay's side.

 "Zoya." 

My name escaped his mouth as if a shard scraping against his own throat, yet the pain shot right through my heart. 

He's in pain.

"Are you alright?" The question came unheralded from his mouth, pushing me to think if he was even fine. Of course, he's not. 

"It's for me to ask you, Nischay." I whisper, my hand clenching my chest hard. "Kahan ho tum? Theek bhi ho nahi?"

(where are you? are you even fine or not?)

A chuckle escapes his lips, perhaps trembling from the vodka he's consuming. "Mere theek hone se ya na hone se kya fark padta hai, Zoya?"  

(It doesn't matter if I'm fine or not, Zoya.)

"Padta hai. Bohot fark padta hai, samjhe."  I raise my voice desperately, nearly thinking as If I could break into the phone and hug him. "Khud ne liye nahi toh mere liye socho, Nischay. Apne liye na sahi, apni Zoya ke liye, Ghar aa jao please, or at least tell me kahan ho tum, I'm coming for you."

(It does, a lot, you hear me? Think about me, Nischay. Please come home, not for yourself but for me, for your Zoya. Or at least tell me where you are, I'm coming for you.)

Silence descends, painful and weary, and Nischay only chuckles. "Look at you." He whispers, my eyes portraying the image of him laughing with tears rolling down his cheeks as he speaks, "The girl who was afraid to fall in love, now fears losing the man she madly is in love with. What and irony."

A pang of ache danced into my chest as few more seconds faded into past, with me unable to pull up a word and eyes shedding rivers.

"I love you, Zoya." I heard him say. "Main bohot pyaar karta hu tumse."

(I love you so much.)

My heart breaks as Nischay breaks into cries. 

"Maine bohot dard diya hai tumhe, bohot aansu laaye hain in badi badi aankhon mein. And I know I'm extremely drunk par, tumhari aankhon mein ek aansu bhi dekhta hu na, toh dhadkan ruk jaati hai meri. Tumhe dard hota hai toh, jee karta hai jisne dard diya hai usko bhi mita du aur....khudko bhi." 

( I've hurt you a lot, made you beautiful eyes shed an ocean of tears. And I know I'm extremely drunk but, my heart stops when I witness even a tear in your eyes. Seeing you hurt makes me want to end the one who hurt you, and myself too.)