Silent Whispers

Chapter 35: Train Wreck

Lavanya had finished her story with a nonchalance tone. "Whatever it is, I'm not complaining. He can figure out his stuff all by himself if he wants to. We have enough on our plates as it is!"

Khushi knew they were empty words, said to keep her from falling further down into her pit of misery. The truth was Lavanya was deeply hurt; Akash had royally ignored her calls of concern, holding her partly accountable for the mess his relationship had become. She was paying the price for being on both of their sides, instead of just one.

Nonetheless, Khushi was thankful for Lavanya's show of indifference. Even though she was far from acknowledging it, her best friend was perhaps the only thing that still kept her anchored to reality. And she would forever be grateful for that.

"Madamji?" Jaya strode into the living room, holding an umbrella in one hand and a reusable bag in the other. "I'm going to the market. Do you want anything?"

Khushi didn't reply. She found it silly that she was still being asked questions; three weeks of nothing but silence was as obvious as it was going to get: she didn't want to talk.

Jaya shuffled her feet awkwardly. "Well, I should be back soon. Bhaiyyaji is upstairs if you need anything while I'm gone."

This time she didn't wait for an answer.

Khushi continued to look out the window, suddenly wondering if it was her brother's plan to corner her alone in the house. After all, he had been trying relentlessly to talk to her, to tell her that everything, miraculously, was going to be okay.

For the first time in her life, Khushi couldn't connect to her brother. She couldn't shelve her grief and just smile back in answer to his endless requests to simply talk. And the reason was simple: he wasn't in her position and he could never be either.

He wasn't the one who ignored Garima all his life, he wasn't the one who treated her worse than an enemy and he definitely wasn't the one who saw her go limp on that bed. He knew nothing about the prison she was thrown into, so there was nothing he could say to fix it. If only he understood that.

The morning began to slip into the afternoon and Khushi once again settled into an endless emptiness.  It was a routine for her now; sitting in her favorite spot beside the window was the only thing she could do without feeling the weight pressing down on her chest.

The doorbell suddenly broke through her haze. Realizing no one was there to answer it, she stood up, stiff from sitting in the same position, and opened the door.

Dressed in denim and a loose white button-up shirt, Arnav Singh Raizada stood in front of her, his hands tucked casually into his pockets. But judging by the serious expression on his clean-shaven face, she knew there was nothing casual about his visit.

Not that she cared.

Without thinking twice, Khushi closed the door just like she opened it, without any contempt or disappointment. It was almost as if no one stood at the doorstep. She began to walk back to her seat near the window, when the doorbell rang again.

"MEETI?" came the voice of her brother; she had almost forgotten he was home. "Can you get the door? I'm on the phone!"

Having no other choice, she opened the door for a second time.

Arnav looked at her tensely. "Please just listen to me," he said, hurriedly in case she decided to slam the door on his face once again. "We need to talk."

Khushi didn't answer.

Taking that as a good sign, he continued. "How about we go for a walk? It will be short – I promise."