I opened my eyes slowly, the world coming into focus bit by bit. My head throbbed with a dull ache, a painful reminder of the chaos that had ensued. I was in a room, the walls of which seemed vaguely familiar, yet the surroundings were unfamiliar.
A wave of nausea washed over me as I tried to sit up, only to realize I couldn't. A cold dread filled me as I looked down to see myself restrained to the bed. The reality of the situation hit me hard, my heart pounding in my chest.
The fact that I was pregnant only heightened my fear. I had to get out, had to ensure the safety of my baby. But how? I was restrained, in an unknown place, with no idea of how I got here.
I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart. I had to stay calm, had to think. Panic wouldn't help me now. I had to figure out a way to escape, to get back to Nischay. For the sake of me and our unborn child.
As I struggled against the restraints, a noise from the doorway made me freeze. The door creaked open, and a man stepped inside. My heart pounded in my chest as I recognized him.
Rudra.
He was the last person I expected to see, and his presence filled me with a mix of surprise and anxiety. What was he doing here? Why was I here?
A whirlwind of emotions swept over me - surprise, fear, anger, and a strange sense of betrayal. He was the man who had left me at the altar, the man who had broken my heart. And now, he was here, in this unfamiliar room, acting as if nothing had happened.
My heart pounded in my chest as I took in his familiar features. His face was the same, yet different. There was a hardness in his eyes that I didn't remember, a coldness that sent a shiver down my spine.
"Are you feeling better now, Zoya?" Rudra said, as he moved closer, smiling. In his hands, he held a tray filled with food. He set it down on a table near the bed, his movements slow and deliberate.
"What are you doing here?" I grit my jaws, struggling to free myself with the ropes. "What am I doing here, you asshole?"
I felt a surge of anger, a burning resentment that made my blood boil. How dare he show up now, after all this time? How dare he act as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn't shattered my world into a million pieces?
"Calm down, princess. Stress is not good for our baby." He whispers, smiling and reaching out his hand to touch me as if he had a right to do so.
"Our baby?" I scoff, chuckling at his absurdness as I moved my face away from him. "It's not our baby, Rudra. Our baby died a long time ago, and the reason was nothing but you!"
"I know I've been a jerk to you, Zoya. But things can finally be right. I'll be a good father I promise." He reaches out his hand to touch my face again, but I move my face away.
"Dare to touch me and I swear I'll cut your hands off right now!" I clench my jaws, eyes darkening at him. "I'm not in any mood to talk to you. Untie me now or I'll make you regret it."
Rudra chuckled softly, "I really know how hurt you've been, Zoya." he says, "And I know I don't deserve you after what I've done."
I thought he had finally got it right, but then he looks at me smiling with determination. "But Nischay doesn't deserve you too, Zoya. You're hurting with him. You're not happy with him and you know it."
"Fuck yourself!" I spat at his face, putting efforts, futile efforts to free myself. "Let me go, you son of a bitch!" I shout. my body aching strangely with the empty efforts I make.
Rudra tears a bite of the chapati, dips it in the curry and brings it closer to my mouth. A small smile lingers on his face as he says, "Don't starve yourself and your baby for someone else."
I resist the urge to kick him in the balls, and clench my jaws at him, feeling a surge of anger coursing through me. "I don't know what's wrong with you but I'm sure you're going to regret it if you didn't free me now."
Rudra sighs, tired by my stubbornness. He puts the plate back and looks blankly at the wall. "Do you remember how you got here?"
As he reminded me, the memories came flooding back. I remembered Nischay leaving me alone in the hotel building, the panic that had set in as I realized I was trapped.
I remembered the smoke, the heat, the fear. I remembered running to the bathroom, to cry my heart out. I remembered the door slamming shut behind me, the realization that I was locked in, that someone had conspired it.
I remembered the terror, the desperation, the feeling of being trapped. I remembered the smoke filling the room, the heat becoming unbearable. I remembered struggling to breathe, my vision blurring, my consciousness fading.
And then, nothing.
I didn't remember how I got here, didn't remember anything after that. All I knew was that I woke up in this room, tied to a bed, with Rudra, this moron standing over me.
The memories were a jumbled mess, a confusing mix of fear, panic, and desperation.
"Someone had locked you in the bathroom. It was a plan, all conspired." Rudra says, somber coating his voice. "You had fainted in an attempt to escape the fire, but fortunately, I saved you."
He turned around to face me again as I was listening to him, "You know how?" He said and I looked at him perplexed. Rudra cups my cheek, smiling. "Because I knew your husband will leave you alone as always, that he'll not be there for you when needed. It's always like that isn't it?"
I tried to form words, to defend our love and my faith but suddenly all of it felt so unbearable.
"Nischay was—suffering."
Suffering.
It was the only word I could think of. He was in pain, undecipherable pain.
"And you?" Rudra says, gaining my attention to him. "Aren't you suffering too, Zoya? Only because of him aren't you drinking the poison too?"
"Stop creating conflicts between me and him, Rudra." I say, my gaze piercing in his. "Stop your little naive attempts because I'm not going to let my faith budge. I'll never leave him alone."
I had somehow managed to hide my tears.
"I see." Rudra laughs slowly. "Tumhe bhi pyaar ho gaya hai usse."
"Haan." I chuckle, my hair cascading a mess over my face. "Aur tumse behadh nafrat."
"Come on, Zoya. Please give me a second chance, I promise I'll be a good father."
"You mean nothing to me or my baby, Rudra!" I yell, my chest heaving with fury. "Stop playing with me now."
"It's not me who's playing with you, Zoya. It's your husband." Rudra says, gritting his teeth. "Does he even care about you? Did he even call you once? Did he pick up your phone ever? No. In fact, he didn't even search for you, Zoya. He assumed you are dead. That is his love. Bullshit."
"Dead?" I whisper, tears pooling into my eyes.
"Did he ever give you back the trust you've been putting on him?" Rudra mocks. "He didn't even search for you, Zoya. Because he didn't want to. He doesn't need you back anymore."
"No—
"And you haven't even told him about your baby, Zoya. Why? Do you not trust him enough?"
"I didn't want to—burden him or—or hurt him. He's dealing with all this—
"See?" Rudra mocks again, his eyes glittering with determination. "You. Are. A Burden. On. Him. Zoya."
My heart shatters.
"He needed you, loved you till he wanted to. But now when he has to fight, you're being a pressure to him, a burden. And there's no possibility he'd not refuse to accept his own baby—
"STOP IT, I SAID!" I shout, eyes ablaze with tears and anger.
Rudra slowly walks over and sits near me. He cups my cheek slowly and wipes my tears. "I am willing to be a better man for you, Zoya. Even If you don't want me, I'm there for you."
This stupid motherfucker doesn't know that I will never want anyone but Nischay.
"Stay here for a month, Zoya." Rudra says, before getting up from the bed. He straightens up his posture and picks up the tray in his hands. "If your husband comes searching for you, then congrats, your love has won. And if he doesn't, then I'll drop you back home myself. And I promise I wouldn't lay my hands on you without your consent."
A month has passed to the fire accident.......and Zoya has still not been home.
Nischay hasn't seen her for more than thirty days, but that doesn't convince him to believe she won't come back to me, to her home. Reya has been angry, cried an ocean of tears. She said she lost her best friend, and the blame was to be on Nischay, entirely.
Everyone thinks his wife has left the world, and they tell him to grief. They don't believe him when he tells them.
Zoya. Isn't. Dead.
One day as such, adrift in the sea of thoughts, only with his wife as the sole picture, Nischay opens the door, a grim expression coating his face.
The moment he pushed open the door, his heart pounded in his chest like a wild drum. The house, once filled with laughter and love, had been silent for a month, echoing the world's assumptions about his wife's fate. But Nischay, he had never lost faith.
"Nischay."
His heart leapt, a surge of relief washing over him like a tidal wave at the voice, the call of his name from the familiar touch after so long. His knees buckled, and he had to lean against the door frame to keep from collapsing. His eyes welled up, blurring his vision, but he didn't need to see clearly to know it was her.
"Zoya—
A gasp escaped his lips, a sound of disbelief and joy intertwined. He rushed forward, pulling her into his arms, his heart pounding against his ribcage. He held her close, as if afraid she would vanish if he let go. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions - relief, joy, disbelief, but above all, an overwhelming love. This was a moment he had dreamed of, prayed for, and now that it was here, it felt surreal. His Zoya, his love, was alive and in his arms again.
As he breaks away, cupping her face with his hands, making sure she was real, his eyes brimming with tears of joy and relief, something shifted.
Zoya's strength seemed to falter, her body swaying slightly and her eyes falling close. His heart pounded in his chest, a sense of dread creeping in. Before he could fully wrap his arms around her, her knees buckled.
She collapsed, her body going limp in his arms. The joyous reunion was abruptly cut short, replaced by a wave of panic. His heart ached, the fear of losing her all over again threatening to consume him.
"Zoya?" He called out, patting her face as his voice filled with panic.
His arms instinctively tightened around her, holding her up. His tears, once of joy, now fell in fear and concern. The relief of finding her was quickly replaced by a new worry.
Nischay picks her up in his arms, his arms pressing her close to his chest.
The family's attention was driven from the household to Zoya, resting unconscious in Nischay's arms as he strides toward their bedroom.
Ahana, bewildered at the sight of Zoya being alive, and finding her in a state like this, she couldn't stop uttering. "Zoya? What happe—
"Ahana, please call the doctor." Nischay cuts her off, his own voice desperate and breathless.
He laid her on the bed, resting her head on the pillows, his heart pounding in his chest as he sat on the floor near her, his knees buckling to the cold tiled surface.
"Zoya?" Nischay's breathes, his fingers tapping her cheeks softly, wishing if she could open her eyes once. She was back, but she was suffering, in pain, and for him, it was his fault.
Tears welled up in his eyes, his chest heaving with worry. The doctor's arrival was an awaited ray of hope as the family gathered in the room, and the trance was broken by a hand on his shoulder, but he was beyond reasoning to even look at someone else.
"Pareshaan mat ho, Nischay." She whispered, stroking his shoulder tenderly.
"Pareshan na hu?" He mocks, his eyes sparkling with tears as he snapped at her. "Uske gale ka fanda ban chuka hu main, maa. Sirf meri wajah se chain se jee bhi nahi paa rhi hai meri Zoya."
"Aisa mat bol, beta.. Sab theek ho jayega—
"I don't need that bloody concern from anyone now, Maa." A decibel raised in his voice as he brawled, his voice tired and his eyes stuck at Zoya as he whispers. "Please leave me alone with my wife."
His mother knew the efforts were useless, and so she preferred to grant him what he wanted. Peace. His home.
The room was vacated, leaving the two trapped love birds alone. Nischay stayed on the floor, his knees scraping against the cold surface and his hand clutched in hers.
"Kab tak chalega aise, Zoya?" He whispered, his eyes, heavy with fatigue and worry, never left her face, his voice barely audible. His heart ached at the sight of her, so still and quiet. "Chain ka ek pal bhi kyun nhi bita sakte hum?" he asked, his voice choked with emotion.
Tears welled up in his eyes, blurring his vision. He blinked them away, his grip on Zoya's hand tightening. He felt helpless, drained from the constant worry and fear. He missed their laughter, their shared moments of joy and love. The weight of their current reality was overwhelming. He yearned for a moment of peace, a respite from the relentless worry. But he knew he had to stay strong, for both of them.
"Zoya?" The door creaked open, welcoming a vaguely familiar voice. Nischay snapped his head, a minute of relief washing over him as he witnessed Dr. Mehra making an attempt to step inside the room. "Can I come?" She asked, and Nischay immediately stood up.
"Please." he breathed, as Dr. Mehra walked inside.
Nischay stood still, his eyes focused on his wife's sublime figure lying sedated on the bed as the doctor took care of her.
"Stress." Dr. Mehra says, turning to Nischay as she exhaled a relaxed breath. "Starvation, dehydration, her glucose level was low too."
Nischay furrowed his brows, his face drawing pale, again blaming himself for her state. "Is she better now?" He managed to whisper, his eyes wandering onto Zoya, her eyes still serenely closed.
Dr. Mehra shrugs her shoulders, heaving a tiresome sigh. "I don't know what keeps happening with you guys, Nischay. This is how you take care of your wife? Even after knowing what has happened to her once?"
Nischay searched for answers but couldn't find one. So he only nodded his head, pressuring a fact to himself that he agreed he was to be blamed.
"Take care of her more, Nischay. Especially at a time like this when she needs you by her side. It's not about a single person now."
Confusion clouds Nischay's mind, "What—does that mean?"
"She didn't tell you yet, did she?" Dr. Mehra arched a brow, surprise coming into her mind as she parts her lips to utter her thoughts. "Zoya is going to be—
"Nischay!"
She wasn't rewarded to complete her words as the voice erupted through the silence, breaking their conversation in between.
Life again flew through Nischay as he looked at Zoya, her eyes now open, looking at him dearly, and her lips parted, breathing shortly.
"Zoya." He reached out to her, relief crawling through him as he held her hand gently. "Are you fine? Is it hurting somewhere? Do you need something?
Zoya nods her head rapidly, her eyes locked with his as she clutched his hand. "Paani." she whispered, licking her lips that went intimately dry.
Nischay nodded, and immediately left the room, having a probable will to bring her an ocean full of water.
As he left, Zoya held Dr. Mehra hand, her eyes sparkling with tears, "Do not tell him." she whispered, her voice barely audible.
A silent plea flickered in her eyes, which didn't go unnoticed by the wise doctor. "Why is that, Zoya? I'm sure Nischay would be so happy to know about this—
"I know." Zoya cuts her off, her eyes wandering between hers searching for an answer. After several seconds, she was able to form one. "But I want to surprise him, and I don't want you to spoil it."
Stoic covered Dr. Mehra's expression, her eyes flickering a sense of doubt but Zoya's plea managed to flatter her heart, and eventually she agreed and smiled at her. "That's a great idea to be honest."
Zoya returned the gesture, but her grin faded with Nischay's steps inside the room. He walked straight to Zoya, kneeling down near her bed and extended the glass close to her mouth.
While Nischay didn't give shit about whoever was present in the room, Zoya felt her cheeks heating up with his demeanor.
Dr. Mehra chose to give the couple privacy, silently smiling at her before she left the room, vacating them in their own personal space.
Zoya now looked at her husband, a stoic, grim expression on his face, and the stern emotion in his eyes reminds her of the days she's spent without him, how much she's missed him.
"Yaad nahi aayi meri?" she whispers, her hand softly cupping his neck.
"Tumhari yaad ke siwa kuch aaya hi toh nahi."
"Toh dhundne kyun nahi aaye mujhe?"
The question sent a jolt of lightening through him, shattering the very last cell of his existence from within.
What would he tell her? What could a good for nothing man tell her? Could he tell her that he had no will to live further if all he was doing was hurt her? Could he tell her that he's sorry for he has failed her, failed himself, failed their love? How could he tell her he was ruined?
The grudge felt so heavy, Nischay rather chose to ignore what she asked, a question he doubted if he wanted to answer.
"Paani." He reminds, his eyes looking anywhere but her as he held the glass closer to mouth.
"NAHI CHAHIYE MUJHE PAANI!" Zoya raised her voice, snitching the glass from his hand and threw it on the floor. As Nischay looked at the broken glass, shattered into pieces, it reminded how they mirrored his heart, broken, jagged and sharp, beyond repair. One would bleed if he held it, and Zoya....she was the one, the one who was bleeding while holding his heart.
Her lips shuddered in an effort to breathe, while her chest thumped in ache. A lone tear escaped Zoya's eye as he moved her hand over his face, tracing all of his features against her fingers smoothly. "Tumhe sach mein meri yaad nahi aayi, Nischay?"
"Pata nahi." Nischay chuckled in a deliberate attempt, mocking his own helplessness. "Shayad kam ho gaya mera pyaar."
"Haan haan, jhoot bolne mein toh mahir ho na tum?" Zoya returns the gesture, laughing against his face as she cups his face. They were mocking their own fate, the misery of the situation they were in.
Zoya leans closer and brushes her nose against his, her hands caressing his face. "Mohabbat kabhi kam nahi hoti, Nischay. Badh jaati hai, ya toh sukoon ban kar, ya dard ban kar."
"Tumhe toh meri mohabbat mein sirf dard mila hai, Zoya. Aur diya hi kya hai maine tumhe aaj tak?" Nischay whispers, his breath shaken.
"Pata nahi." Zoya chuckles, tears rolling down her cheeks, and every drop ending on his lip. "Sab kuch? Ya shayad kuch bhi nahi? Mujhe fark nahi padta. Kuch nahi tha mere paas khone ko, ab tum mil gaye ho toh dar sa lagta hai."
"Mujhe khone ka dar?"
Zoya presses her lips together, nodding her head rapidly. "Sab kuch khone ka dar."
"Haina?" Nischay couldn't stop mocking their fate, and another chuckle escapes his lips, with another tear escaping his eye. "Jab kahani aage badhne lagti hai, toh dar lagta hai ki khatam ho jayegi."
Zoya shakes her head, her fingers brushing against his chest now, and she brushes her lips against his. "Manzilein asaani se milti toh kahaniyan nahi banai jaati, Nischay. Aur humari kahani abhi puri nahi hui."
"Humari kahani?" Nischay whispers, his breath mingling with hers as he shakes his head. He slowly cups her face and makes her look into his eyes. "Humari kahani kabhi likhi hi kahan gayi thi, Zoya? Maine toh bas pyaar kiya tha tumse, beintehaan pyaar. Aur aaj vahi pyaar tumhari aakhon mein aansu ki wajah ban chuka hai, tumhare dard ki wajah ban chuka hai."
Bound by her vulnerability, Zoya shakes her head, continuous tears leaving her eyes as she stares at him.
"Tumhe pata hai?" Nischay brushes a strand of hair from her face, tugging it behind her ear softly, and her eyes fall close from the sweet sensation. "Saara jahan bhi agar mere khilaaf ho jaata phir bhi mujhe koi fark nhi padta, Zoya. Kyunki meri duniya tumhare kadmo mein hai. Log lakh baatein sunate sun leta main, par tumhare khilaf ek shabd bhi sunta hu toh khoon khaul jaata hai mera. Tumhari god mein sir rakh ke ro lunga par tumhari aankhon mein ek aansu bhi dekhta hu na toh dhadkan ruk jaati hai meri."
"Aise nhi chalta, Nischay." Zoya whispers, wiping his tears, let alone hers. "Phere liye the tab tumne khud kaha na? Zindagi ke har ache bure vakt mein ek dusre ka sath nibhayenge? Shuru se lekar aaj tak agar tum mere saath the, toh mujhse kyun ye ummeed rakhte ho ki main tumhe akela chhod du? Sirf isliye kyunki tum dard mein ho? Ye kahan ka pyaar hai?"
Nischay stares at her and something resembling a small faint smile lingers upon his lips, but fades before it fully blooms into something real, his eyes a mix of surprise and admiration, perhaps wondering how in the world did this woman fall in love with him, and that too this deep.
But he still couldn't rely upon his heart, knowing his addiction, and his present, ruining slowly. He didn't know if he could really let his wife rely upon him, beknown of what he was into.
"Tumhe pata hai maine tumhe kyun nhi dhunda?"
"Haan, tumne socha main mar gyi. Soch rhe the ki finally chutkara mil gaya haina?"
Nischay chuckles, letting the weight of his pain hide behind his smile as he shakes his head. He cups her face in his palms, and leans closer, grazing his nose against hers softly. "I thought you finally escaped the knot that you were forcefully tied to. I never believed you died in the fire, only assumed that you escaped from this painful, and loveless marriage—
"Loveless?" Zoya mocks, a chuckle escaping her lips. "After my dad, Nischay, you're the first and last person to love me, more than anything else. You've loved me to an extent that I didn't know was possible. You're loved me so much that even if it's the day we're parting and you tell me you never did, I wouldn't believe it. I would rather die than to believe that all of this—all that happened between us was—was fake. Because I know it's not. I know that you love me, I knew it the day you—
Her breathe hitches, tears lining in the corner of her eyes as she stared at him, her chest heaving.
"The day I?" Nischay whispers, urging her to complete her words.
"The day you kissed me!"
Nischay falls froze, his heart pounding in his chest.
"I'm never going to leave you, husband, so don't let that thought penetrate your mind." Zoya whispers, pressing her forehead against his. "I'll never leave you, unless it's what you desire."
"I'm afraid I'd never want it."
Zoya smiles, her eyes weary and sleepy.
She wraps her arms around his neck, leaning her weight over him eventually. A sharp pain penetrates through Nischay's heart, as Zoya planted her lips at his cheek, burying her face into his neck. The guilt hit him like a wave.
"I've missed you so much." Zoya whispers, her voice a sad melody to him.
Nischay fastened his arms around her pulling her deeper into his embrace. Zoya clung to him like a koala as he brushed his hand over her head gently, running his fingers through her long raven hair.
"Sleep with me, Nischay, please." Zoya whispers, cupping his cheek. Her eyes sparkled, a silent plea as she pouted innocently. "Please, or else I'll demand for ice-cream."
Nischay looked at her bewildered, admiring how adorable she was.
He couldn't help but nod to her, his own eyes falling close with weariness. For a long time after, he could feel home, in her arms. Even if it was just for a moment, he thought, her joy meant the most to him.
Nischay smiles as he reclines slowly, and she wraps her arms around him, enveloping him into her embrace until he lies on the bed with her over him.
I don't know what day is today, but it definitely is something special. Because Nischay is here to take me home. He rarely does this, I repeat, rarely. So now I wonder what has made him come over to my hospital to pick me.
"Would you not tell me?" I ask for the nth time, tired of the same response from Nischay. He's silent, not even saying if it's a surprise and I'd know once we reach there.
"Please tell me, Nischay. Before I go insane out of anxiety." I brawl, nearly throwing my hands over him if only he hadn't confined me into this goddamn seatbelt.
Nischay tilts his head to look over me, his eyes lingering at my face for a short second before he tore his gaze away, as if he couldn't brace himself to look into my eyes.
"Have you robbed a bank?" I supposed, but even that didn't make him snap back at me. He had his gaze focused on the road, driving god knows where.
"Is everything really okay, Nischay?" I hold my nerve and gently place my hand over his, squeezing it tenderly in an attempt to give him comfort.
He looked somewhere feared, and the look that I saw in his eyes relayed that it was me—the cause of his fear.
I stay silent when Nischay chose to do the same, relying on the same sentence from the past twenty minutes. 'Some thinks better be revealed when it's the time, Zoya'
"Where are we going?" I growl, gritting my teeth when I notice him turning left to the road—the way to my house. Fear gnaws at my insides, cold and sharp, my eyes welling up with tears. "For real now, Nischay, before I kill you."
Nischay looks at me, his fear filled eyes meeting mine, my lashes drenched with tears, but I blinked them away.
"I thought you'd like to meet your dad." He whispers, his voice barely audible over the loud downpour.
My heart stops beating for a moment, when the words spilled out of his throat, and the world seemed to spin around me.
"What did you—say?" I uttered, grasping upon the hard material of the seat, my nails tearing part the leather.
Nischay stays silent, driving unbothered as he has been.
All the while I've been unable to even breathe.
"Stop the car." I whisper, my voice numb over the rain.
Nischay looks at me, a look of fear and concern in his eyes but he's a cheater. A goddamn cheater. "Zoya—
"I said stop the car, Nischay!" A cry spills out of my throat, making me doubt if my vocal cords were even fine or not.
Nischay pulls the brake, the journey coming to a halt. I try opening the door of the car, my fingers trembling as my breathe hitches. Nischay tries to hold me but I avoid him, push him away.
This was his surprise?
This was what he said had to be revealed at the right time?
Fucking asshole. A goddamn cheater.
"Don't lose it anywhere, am I clear?" My stepmom said as she pinned one more hairclip into my hair. "I promise." I replied immediately without any second thought. My mother then continued on the makeup, as she picked up the little bowl of black paste in it, and a very tiny brush.
It was presumed to be the kajal, and mascara. Most of the girls were getting ready in the school itself, but my dad has sternly said, "I don't want my daughter to get her beautiful soft skin ruined by using those nasty makeup brands."
My dad was a botanist. And just for I don't get my precious skin ruined by the chemicals makeup brands used in their cosmetic products, my dad has prepared herbal makeup for me in his lab.
I was so fascinated when I saw him preparing the various colorful pastes in his lab. He had that much flowers, fruits, and plants which I have never even witnessed before.
I saw him using the reddest flower as he made blush for me. The shade was something so dark that I haven't seen one like this ever. When I asked him about his origin, he said, "This flower is rarely found in the jungles of tropical Amazonia."
And he went to those ferocious jungles just to get this miniscule flower?
I was curious all the time, as I watched him dumbfoundedly. He had a big paper kind of something that has too many pictures of different plants and something written under them. My school has always taught me about great philosophers, and scientists. I knew about John Dalton, Albert Einstein, Issac newton.....oh those are not related to biology. They just made useless discoveries. I hate them from my heart, and I swear I would never regret killing them again if they were alive.
But I know those too, the great grand scientists of biology. I knew Aristotle, Louis fucking Pasteur, Charles fucking Darwin, Ernst fucking Mayer, R.H fucking Whittaker, Rudolf fucking Virchow, and Melvin fucking Calvin.
Oh my god, I never cursed but I'm getting influenced by the kids in my school. Dad won't be happy if I became a bad girl. Nischay would laugh at me if I proved him right.
I still haven't forgot that Mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell, and Photosynthesis is the process by which plants produced glucose using sunlight, water, and carbon dioxide, and also that male and female gamete fuse up to make a zygote, which later forms an embryo in the female uterus.
I remember ever concept, every fucking scientist.....oh no I cursed again. But what hurts me is that My father was so genius, yet he was in no theory and no book of botany.
No matter how many fucking genius scientist come....Sorry for cursing. My father will always be my hero, and he's the best in the world for me.
Dad is wearing his glasses. Sometimes I played around with him and annoyed him by hiding his glasses somewhere, and he kept searching in the whole house while I laughed.
Dad looks through the big sheet of paper and I watched as he teared a little of a plant part. I rarely know any of the plants here in the lab. Every of them is a rare species. Dad used the scalpel to tear out every inner part of the plant, and then he examined it.
"What are you searching for? It's a plant, dad. It doesn't have any chemical." I was an idiot to argue with a botanist. Dad smiled at me. "Plants do have chemicals, princess."
And to my surprise when dad asked me to look through the microscope, I found a lot of little cells scattering. They were eating each other. Oh my goddddddd it was terrifying to see cells eating each other inside a plant. They were pale blue in color, and weird the plant was green.
I was so scared yet fascinated.
"Everything in this world contains a little poison, Zoya. You just need to examine everything before you decide to keep it to yourself."
My dad, my dear, only dad.
"Zoya—
Nischay reaches out for me, but I don't listen to him.
I push open the door of the car and step outside, the rain soaking me from head to toe within a minute. The world is spinning around me, and tears deny falling. Yet even the very last cell of my body is shuddering, just at the image of dad not being there in my house if I go there now.
My dad.
"Zoya." Nischay steps out of the car, the rain drenching him completely within a minute. The plain white shirt allows me to see through the fabric, and notice his peeking abs.
Cheater. He didn't tell me my dad was—
"Zoya, listen to me—
"Stay away!" I push him with my hands as he tries to hold me, his own eyes softening. My whole body shudders, as I barely hold my knees buckling with the shock.
"You lied again, Nischay." I whisper, taking steps toward him, giving him a clear sense of another betrayal from him. I grab his collar, fisting the material of his white chiffon shirt as my eyes met his, blazing and drenched with the pouring rain. "But I'll still forgive you once—you tell me whatever I'm assuming is— is wrong."
Nischay stares at me, silent. He had no answer for this, he didn't want to be forgiven.
"I'm sorry, Zoya." He cups my cheek with his warm, the rain drenching my face and I wonder if my tears remain hidden from his eyes.
"No." I shake my head, withdrawing my steps from him as my heart clenches with every useless beat. "Tell me you're lying, Nischay. Please, I promise I—I will forgive you."
"You've to be strong, Zoya. I'm here for you." Nischay reassures me, his hands insanely reaching out to hold my trembling set of bones. I avoid him every time he touches me. "Dad is at a better place now, Zoya."
He's making me believe something absurd, something that'—that's not even real.
"You're—you're being absurd, Nischay. You need therapy." I chuckle insanely, laughing through my tears. He lacks brains, the case and all—everything has made him lose his mind.
"Dad is fine, you know?" I smile, "I'll call him. He'll pick up right away seeing my number and then you'll believe me."
"Zoya—
Nischay calls me again, but I ignore him and reach my hand out to take my phone out of the car. He needs to know he's being insane. Even dad needs to examine him and give him medicines so he can finally get some—
"Dad is not here with us anymore!"
I'm baffled when a grip comes hard and calloused on my arm and I'm slammed against the door of the car, with Nischay towering over me, his eyes dark and his hand roughly cupping my cheek.
"He's gone, Zoya."
The words, the realization, the truth......all real felt like an arrow to my chest.
My dad, my dear dad, my superhero. He's gone, too.
"No." I clutch upon his shoulder, shaking my head undeniably, refusing to accept the truth. The sense of reality seemed to fog this time, when the only shelter upon my head was told to be gone.
Nischay nods his head slowly, each nod a contrasting grim realization to my denial. His arms are tight around me, and he's pressing my body close to his chest as I break into cries, the rain providing a shelter to my melancholy now.
"Let it out love," Nischay whispers, pulling me closer and tighter in his embrace. "I'm here for you, I promise."