Siya POV:
Upon reaching home at 3 pm, I found the house wrapped in a calm atmosphere, with everyone seemingly occupied in their own pursuits. As I entered, Krish, with an earnest expression, approached me and said, "Bhabhi maa, it's fortunate that I found you here. I was planning to go out with my friends, but then I received a call from my brother. He mentioned that this file is very important, and he forgot to take it with him. He's asking if I could go to his office, but I have to go with friends. Can you please go and deliver the file? It's such a crucial document that he can't even send it with the driver. Bhabhi maa, please, will you take it for me? Please help me out, please."
His words carried a sense of urgency and responsibility, and I could sense the importance of the task at hand. With a gentle nod, I agreed, understanding the gravity of the situation. "Haan, Krish, main le jaaungi file." (Yes, Krish, I will take the file.), I replied, emphasizing the willingness to assist.
Krish expressed his gratitude, saying, "Bhabhi maa, aap bohot achhi hain. Thank you so much. I owe you one."
I smiled, assuring him, "Don't worry, Krish. It's family, and I'm here to help."
Feeling a mix of nervousness and determination, I arrived at Abhiram's office for the first time. Approaching the receptionist with politeness, I asked, "Excuse me, can you please tell me where Abhiram's office is?"
To my surprise, the receptionist's expression transformed into one of mild disgust. She retorted, "Who allowed you to call sir with his first name? No one is allowed to address him by name."
Taken aback by her response, I stammered, "I-I'm sorry, I didn't know. Could you please guide me to Mr. Abhiram's office?"
The receptionist, now wearing an expression of disdain, confronted me with a piercing gaze. She asked with palpable hatred, "Do you have an appointment? If not, please go. We don't allow unauthorized visitors."
Feeling a sense of unease and unwelcome, I tried to explain, "I'm here to deliver an important file for Mr. Abhiram. It's from his brother, Krish."
The receptionist remained unyielding, responding coldly, "Unless you have a scheduled appointment, you can't just barge in. Please leave immediately."
Understanding the strict policy but emphasizing the urgency of the matter, I tried to plead, "I understand your policy, but this is an important file for Mr. Abhiram. Please let me in. I know him, don't worry."
Undeterred by the receptionist's initial coldness, I took a deep breath and inquired, "Do you have an appointment? If not, please go. We don't allow visitors without one."
With a sense of urgency, I responded, "I don't have an appointment, but this is important. Could you please call him and let him know that Siya is here with a crucial file? If he allows me, I'll proceed. Otherwise, I'll quietly leave."
I tried one last attempt, "I understand your policy, but this is not a trivial matter. It's urgent, and Krish emphasized its importance. Can you please make an exception and inform him? I assure you it won't take much of his time."
The receptionist, with a mix of hatred and frustration, retorted, "Oh really? Everyone who comes here says so, and I am not here to entertain you. Go somewhere else. Maybe these tricks work on someone else. If you know sir, then call him; otherwise, I will call security."
The realization hit me that I couldn't reveal my relationship with Abhiram, as he had told me not to tell about our marriage to anyone. The receptionist's words stung, and a pang of frustration set in. I couldn't call him as I didn't have his number.
"Why didn't you ask for his number? Dammit, you are married to him," I scolded myself silently.
Despite my earnest pleas, the receptionist remained unmoved. Frustrated, she summoned security, and a stern guard appeared promptly. Nervously, I explained, "Sir, I just want to deliver an important file to Mr. Abhiram. It's from his brother, Krish."
The guard, unyielding, replied, "If you don't have permission or an appointment, you can't be here. Come with me."
As the guard throws me out, the situation took a painful turn. In the swift expulsion, my head hit the stone on the floor, and blood began to flow. The receptionist, showing no concern, coldly remarked, "Maybe this will teach you not to ignore our policies."
In distress and with blood still trickling from my head, I fumbled to call Krish, hoping for assistance. However, he didn't answer. Desperate, I attempted to reach out to Dadaji and Vihaan, but they too were unavailable, likely immersed in meetings. Feeling a sense of isolation.
The driver arrived promptly, concern etched on his face as he noticed the blood on my head. "What happened to your head, ma'am? Let me take out the car. We can go to the hospital," he suggested, his worry evident.
I reassured him, "It's nothing, driver uncle. Actually, I need your help. Can you please give this file to Abhiram? I have something urgent. Can you please give it to him?" I requested, emphasizing the urgency of the matter and hoping he could assist me in delivering the crucial document to Abhiram.
The driver, with a nod of understanding, took the file from me. "Of course, ma'am. I'll make sure to give it to sir immediately," he assured, displaying a sense of responsibility that mirrored his trustworthiness.
I observed the driver making his way towards Abhiram's office, my eyes fixed on the entrance as the significance of the file heightened the tension. Waiting anxiously, I couldn't help but be surprised when I saw the receptionist allowing him to enter without raising any objections.
A sense of relief washed over me as I realized that the driver's presence and credibility had paved the way for the safe delivery of the crucial document. I waited patiently, hopeful that Abhiram would soon receive the file.
After what felt like a suspenseful wait, I saw the driver emerging from Abhiram's office. My heart raced with anticipation as he approached, handing back the file to me. "Ma'am, I gave the file to sir, but he looked angry and asked why I brought a file and not Krish sir," the driver informed me, revealing Abhiram's unexpected reaction.
Gratitude filled me as I thanked him, relieved that the important document had reached Abhiram's hands.
As I stood in the parking lot, the weight of the day's events pressed on me. The driver, still concerned about my well-being, suggested, "Ma'am, should I take you to the hospital now? Your head is bleeding."
I appreciated his concern but insisted, "No, driver uncle, I'll be fine. Thank you for your help. You can go back to your duties."
He nodded and returned to the driver's seat, leaving me to reflect on the unexpected twists and turns of the day.
I decided to address my own well-being and headed to a nearby pharmacy. With a determined mindset, I purchased a bandage and Dettol to clean up the wound on my head. Finding a quiet spot, I carefully tended to the injury, cleaning it as best as I could. The stinging sensation was a harsh reminder of the earlier events.
I got home, luckily finding no one around. No curious questions about my injury came my way. Silently, I slipped into my room, appreciating the quiet where I could process the day's surprises without external scrutiny.
I immersed myself in work on my laptop, and as the clock neared 7 pm, I decided to head downstairs to prepare dinner. To my surprise, Abhiram had come home early, but his face was clouded with anger. Concerned, I asked, "What happened?" The rest of the family had also gathered, and Papa inquired, "What happened, Abhiram?"
In a burst of frustration, Abhiram exclaimed, "Krish, I asked you to bring the file yourself, but you sent it with the driver. You know how important it is. If you couldn't come, you could have sent some other family member." Krish defended himself, "But I gave it to Bhabhi maa, as I had to go somewhere."
In the heat of the moment, Abhiram's anger escalated, and he lashed out with even more harsh words. "Why can't you understand simple things? You always complicate everything! Krish specifically asked you to give it to me, and you still managed to mess it up!" His frustration seemed to amplify with each word.
The barrage of Abhiram's anger continued as he berated me for not utilizing the phone to inform him. His words, laden with frustration, cut through the room, and I found myself at the receiving end of his disappointment. "You could have called me! What's so difficult about that?" he snapped, his tone filled with irritation.
Attempting to maintain composure, I explained, "I didn't have your number that's why I didn't call you."
Abhiram's tirade continued, each word a verbal blow that left me reeling. "You always find excuses. I can't rely on you for anything important. Giving a simple file, and you make a mess of it! You're utterly useless!"
Feeling the weight of his words, I tried to maintain composure. "I understand it didn't go as planned, but I genuinely tried my best to deliver the file. The receptionist didn't allow me, and I thought sending the driver was a quick solution."
Abhiram, however, was relentless in his anger. "Quick solution? You never think about the consequences of your actions. You're a burden, always causing trouble!"
Tears welled up in my eyes, but I quickly wiped them away, trying to maintain composure. With a shaky voice, I suggested, "Let's talk inside the room," hoping that a more private setting might diffuse some of the tension.
As we entered the room, Abhiram's verbal assault persisted, the room became suffused with tension. His anger seemed unyielding, and every word felt like a searing indictment. "You ruin everything you touch. Can't even handle a simple task. Why am I even surprised?" he spat out, his frustration unabated.
Frustration and hurt evident in my voice, I finally spoke up, "The file reached you, right? Why are you making such a big deal out of it?" I hoped to convey that despite the initial challenges, the intended result had been achieved – the crucial document had made its way to Abhiram.
However, Abhiram, still simmering with anger, dismissed my attempt to downplay the situation. "It's not just about the file. It's about your constant incompetence, about never thinking before you act. I can't deal with this anymore."
Abhiram, still seething with anger, countered my attempt to downplay the situation. "And the file you're talking about is crucial! What if the driver misplaced it? What if he sold it to someone else? Have you even thought about the consequences?" His anger flared, emphasizing the gravity of the situation.
I tried to reason, "You trusted the driver; he's been with us for a long time. I thought it was a quick solution. Besides, I am outside, keeping an eye until he comes back."
Abhiram's harsh words continued to rain down, each one more cutting than the last. "You're a burden, utterly useless. Nobody loves you, and why would they? All you do is create problems," he spat out in a barrage of hurtful remarks.
The weight of his words hung heavily in the room, and the emotional toll became increasingly apparent. I fought back tears, trying to find the strength to weather the storm of his anger and hurtful declarations. The air was thick with tension, and the wounds from his verbal assault seemed to deepen with every passing moment.
Abhiram's verbal assault escalated further, his words growing even more hurtful and demeaning. "You're a failure, incapable of handling even the simplest tasks. No wonder nobody values you. Your existence is nothing but a burden on everyone around you," he declared with a cold, cutting tone.
I stood there, absorbing the blows of his harsh words, feeling a profound sense of isolation and despair. The room echoed with the weight of his accusations, and the emotional toll of his relentless criticism became increasingly difficult to bear.
I stood there, absorbing the blows of his harsh words, feeling a profound sense of isolation and despair. The room echoed with the weight of his accusations, and the emotional toll of his relentless criticism became increasingly difficult to bear.
As Abhiram's barrage of harsh words continued, each statement felt like a dagger to the heart. "I should have never married you. You bring nothing but misery into my life. I can't stand being around you," he uttered with a cold and unrelenting demeanor.
The weight of his words bore down on me, leaving me emotionally shattered and vulnerable. In the midst of this verbal storm, I tried to maintain my composure, but the relentless criticism took its toll. The room became a battleground of emotions, with the wounds of his words cutting deep into the core of our relationship.
As the torrent of Abhiram's harsh words persisted, the emotional turmoil within me intensified. "You're a constant source of disappointment. I regret the day I met you. I don't know why I ever thought this marriage could work," he declared, his words laced with resentment and disdain.
He continued to unleash a torrent of negativity. "You're a burden on our family. Everyone would be better off without you. I can't fathom why I'm stuck with someone so useless," he spat out with a cruelty that cut deep.
Abhiram angrily left, slamming the door shut. My hands began to sweat, and they trembled uncontrollably. Breathing became a struggle as tears streamed down my face. My heart hurt, and my head throbbed relentlessly. The overwhelming onslaught of emotions triggered a panic attack.
In a desperate attempt to quell the rising panic, I rushed to the drawer, retrieving a handful of pills. I hastily gulped down three or four, hoping for relief. In the midst of my distressed state, I accidentally knocked over a glass, and it shattered, a shard piercing through my leg and hand and blood coming out. Still upset, I took a couple more pills, and everything around me started to blur.
My inner demons seemed to join the chorus, replaying my mother's hurtful words: "Nobody loves you. You are a burden. You are a bad omen." The convergence of these haunting sentiments became overwhelming.
Unable to bear the weight of this emotional onslaught, I clutched my head tight, as if trying to silence the cacophony of negative voices. The intensity reached a breaking point, and with a primal scream, I unleashed the pent-up anguish, a desperate attempt to release the suffocating pain within. The room echoed with the haunting resonance of my cry, a manifestation of the deep-seated emotional turmoil engulfing me.
Seeking solace, I stumbled towards the balcony for fresh air, my body wracked with sobs. There, under the night sky, I lay down, crying bitterly until the weight of exhaustion overcame me, and I succumbed to a restless sleep, the events of the evening haunting my troubled dreams.
This is how Siya Birthday ends and nobody in the family knows it's her birthday.
How much Siya can endure is she keep listening to his harsh word and kill her self respect or she stand for herself?
I know Abhiram is very harsh towards her but he has his own reason which you get to know in another chapter.
I know right now you hate him well me too and i also know no reason can justify his reaction but everyone has own way to deal with their own problems and Abhiram way is lashing out at everyone.