✨ Suffering ✨

Samantha

"Dad, you said he was a good man.

If he really was, then why did he leave me when I needed him the most?

Why did he fail to see my love, Dad?

I fell in love with him, but what did he do?

After making me feel so loved and like I belonged, he doesn't even care about my existence now.

He hates me, Dad. He hates me to the core.

Am I not worthy enough that everybody leaves me, Dad?

Sahi kehte the sab....

Abhimaan mera kabhi nahi ho sakta.

Woh mera kabhi tha hi nahi...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A solitary tear escaped, tracing a silent path down my cheek as I slowly turned the fragile pages of the letter I had written to my Dad just a month ago. Each word, meticulously penned during my darkest hours, echoed the grief and despair I once felt. That letter marked a time when I was utterly lost, a time when the world around me had crumbled into a haze of sorrow and disillusionment.

Today, I still wander through that same lane of despair, but now the colors have changed, and the path seems less undefined.

For the first time since our painful past, the man who once broke my heart, who shattered my trust and left me in ruins, has dared to confess his love for me. Abhimaan's confession comes wrapped in both vulnerability and regret, a clear contrast to the phase I have been through. But now, I am left with questions that claw at my soul.

Is it too late for forgiveness? Can love, however belated, ever mend the fractured pieces of my heart? Or is the echo of his confession merely a desperate plea-a last attempt to reclaim something that is left unsaid inside me.

My love for him, which is still alive....

I find myself caught in a quiet dilemma against the need for answers. Sometimes, when life bombards you with too many unanswerable questions, you choose instead to let the silence be.

Kabhi kabhi zindagi mein aap pe itne sawaal uthte hain, toh aap jawaab dhoondhna band kar dete ho....

In those moments, seeking answers seems unreasonable, the questions themselves become too heavy to bear.

Because the heart once shattered, will always be scared of the smile it brings us to.

No matter how much I love him, I'm scared of him more.

Yet even in this tangled web of emotions, and now that Abhimaan is unwell, I want him to be fine even on the last day of my life.

The doctor's stern words about his need for rest, for proper care, have forced me to confront the reality of his fragile state.

In the midst of my internal chaos, I realize I cannot let him continue his self-destructive habits, skipping meals, drowning in caffeine, and especially drenching in rain . Because at the end, I cannot bear the thought of watching him fade away into further oblivion.

I shifted some of my belongings into Dad's room and allowed Abhimaan to occupy my own. Ruhaan sent over some clothes of Abhimaan, though not before a mysterious chuckle escaped him.

Now, for two long days, Abhimaan has been staying at my apartment and like a storm cloud, his presence constant and his gaze unnervingly persistent. I've grown used to the way his eyes follow my every move, even if that silent scrutiny makes my skin look more transparent. If that makes sense.

Today, as the cafe reopens it's offline service, I return back to my apartment after a draining day of work. The familiar creak of the door suddenly interrupted by muffled laughter from the living room.

I stepped into the hall only to find Shaurya, Ruhaan, Amaira, and Abhimaan seated on the couch, their faces animated by a shared secret of jokes. Their laughter abruptly dies down as they notice my arrival.

"Hi, Bhabhi!", Amaira greets me with a tight hug. "How are you?", I cupped her cheeks as she nodded in acknowledgement, "I'm doing fine....

"We just came to check on you both....", Ruhaan said as I smiled back at him.

"We are good....", I responded causally, as I sat beside Shaurya not before passing a soft smile to him. I settle down on the couch, but I can't help noticing Abhimaan's unyielding stare at me. Let's be honest, his glance feels heavy to me as it is charged with an emotion that both unnerves and fascinates me, and also turns my cheeks turned into crimson red.

We were having our random conversation when Shaurya said in between, "Well....", he sat straight as he chirped at his lips.

"Every year, our Company hosts a gala and this year, I would like you guys to join me for it tomorrow evening....", he smiled back at us.

"What say, Abhimaan?", he raised his eyebrows at Abhimaan.

Abhimaan's eyes fell on me before he replied back, "Shaurya, I would be honoured...."

"Yeah, we would love to....", Ruhaan and Amaira said.

"Great, then. What about you, Samantha?", Shaurya asked back, I bit my lips not knowing what to say.

"C'mon, Samantha....", he persuaded me as I agreed to him.

Before I can muster a response, Abhimaan interjects, saying, "Samantha will join us too." The words, meant to be reassuring, reverberate through the room, sending a shiver down my spine. I look into his eyes, and for a fleeting moment, I see a mixture of determination, longing, and something darker, an intensity that both beckons and warns me.

"It's a gala, so you all have to bring your partners....", Shaurya said excitedly.

Before I could even notice Abhimaan's smirk, I added hastily, "Ruhaan and I will be a great duo...." I tried to regain control of the situation, though inside, my heart is contrary.

Ruhaan replied awkwardly, "Yes, Bhabhi....", I felt sorry to drag him but anyways.

"Then, I will join Bhai....", Amaira said, as Abhimaan nodded in return.

His gaze, steady and cold, never left my sight as it felt like every silent moment, every shared glance, is a negotiation of our unsaid emotions.

As the night deepened, everyone left one by one, and now, I am left alone with Abhimaan. The silence is thick, marked by my thoughts. I clean the table, trying to ignore the sound of his footsteps, a sound that makes my heart race even faster.

"Ruhaan doesn't know the theme dance for the gala," he called out, his voice unexpectedly light yet carrying a weight of unspoken words.

I replied in a causal tone as if I didn't understand his words, "No worries, we'll just watch the others dance."

"Are you jeal-?", I said but before that, he cuts it off in between. I felt his arms on me as he spun me around to face him, "I'm not jealous, Samantha," he said, his tone soft but laced with an undeniable intensity.

I offer a tentative smile, one that belies the storm inside, and the heavy breaths we exchanged, "Then it's all fine." I said but my answer felt hollow, and I wondered how much of our past has seeped into every corner of our present.

And holding everything back inside my locked heart, I went to sleep before asking him to take his medicines on time.

The next morning arrives with a flurry of activity. Amaira bursted into my room, her excitement palpable. "Bhabhi, wake up! The designer has sent us a new collection for the gala. Let's choose our outfits!" Her enthusiasm was so infectious and genuine, momentarily it pulled me out of my reverie. And despite the heaviness of my heart, I can't help but smile at her energy.

In the midst of selecting dresses, rich fabrics, elegant cuts, and colors that promise a night of glamour. I feel the weight of the gala invitation pressing on my mind.

The gala isn't just an event, it's a symbolic return to a life I once left behind, a world of expectations, public scrutiny, and painful memories. Business world.

Yet there is also the lure of transformation, a chance to reinvent myself in a moment of beauty and confidence so, it's better to live in the present.

After long moments of laughter, banter, and gentle teasing as we dismiss one dress after another, we finally settled on our choices. I select a shimmering silver gown with a daring side slit and puffy sleeves, an outfit that seems to capture the essence of a new beginning, even if only in appearance while Amaira chose a black full sleeves gown. Once we were done, she left to get some spa done, her words, not mine.

After placing every dress back to its hangers I remembered that it was time for Abhimaan's medication.

I walked toward his room, I knocked it gently, half-expecting him to be asleep, but silence answered me. A flicker of anxiety sparks in my chest....had he left? Was he already gone, abandoning the fragile stability we had built together?

Stop, Samantha. Stop your overthinking mind....

I pushed the door open as I entered inside only to find no one. I found his shirt placed neatly on the bed when his warmth on my skin caught me off guard.

"God, you scared me....", I said, as he caught me before I could fall.

At the moment, my hands rested on his bare chest when I realised he was just out of his shower. As he was just in his towel. The crisp, clean scent of his aftershave mingled with the faint aroma of my favorite body wash. Water droplets cling to his hair, sparkling like tiny stars in the soft light. In that charged moment, our eyes lock. His gaze, warm yet piercing, held me captive, and for an instant, I was lost in the intensity of his presence.

"Did you think I was gone?", he teased, his voice low and husky, as he stepped closer. His hand reached out, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from my face. I feel a rush of warmth that battles the lingering coldness of my fear, a dangerous, intoxicating feeling that I can neither fully embrace nor completely resist.

I pushed him back with a nervous laugh. "Take your medicine, Abhimaan, and rest", I say, my voice trembled despite my attempt at composure. The moment slipped away, leaving me with a heart pounding in my ears and a mind swirling with questions I'm not yet ready to answer.

For the rest of the day, I move through the motions of my routine, packing orders at the cafe, tidying up the apartment, yet every thought circles back to him. The memory of his lingering smile, the echo of his whispered challenge, and the undeniable pull between us haunt me with every breath.

It is as if every step I take brings me closer to a dive into the depth from which there is no turning back, a delicate balance between past wounds and a future shrouded in uncertainty.

And so, as the night fell, I was laying down but awake with thoughts racing inside my mind. In the soft solitude of my room, I confront the truth and it is simple.

I am trapped by fear, by memories, and by an undeniable connection that refuses to let go. I wonder if I will ever have the strength to break free from the webs of distrust, to embrace love without the constant fear of being shattered all over again.

Where I can love Abhimaan, with no fears.

Party Evening

I blow dried my hair once I was out of my shower. It's gala time and I'm getting ready for it. After our last encounter, I probably chose to ignore having any conversation with Abhimaan. The more we talk, the more tangled I'm.

I was skeptical about wearing the dress I chose in the morning. Although I like it but still, there are double thoughts. But as I didn't have any other option, I rather chose to go with it. I wore the silver side cut dress, it perfectly fit to my curves exposing my legs. To be honest, the more I was having double thoughts wearing it, it literally disappeared after I saw my reflection in the mirror.

Amaira was right, it really looked pretty on me. I added a simple earrings with a bracelet on my wrist. I applied a soft glam makeup, more than I usually apply and then I wore my heels, which is normally not so high, just the way I wear them. Amaira said the designer sent all the accessories but I was amazed how it fitted me so well and everything was as per my taste.

I applied my favourite perfume and shuffled my fingers in the soft curls I did on my hair. "Not bad, Samantha....", I muttered under my breath.

I took a pouch which also the designer sent me as I carried all my essentials inside it, including my phone. I left the room once I was ready as I didn't find Abhimaan anywhere. "Should I go and check on him? Is he ready by now?", I thought to myself when my eyes fell on him already.

He was dressed up in a black and white Armani suit as his hair was well groomed. His well sculpted face, sharply featured nose and an aura of power and professionalism dripping over him, making him look like a walking Greek God. From top to bottom, he looked extremely...., ummm.... Yeah, he looked nice. Anyways.

I found him stepping towards me as his eyes fixed on me. I tried smiling to kill the silence between us, "Ummmm....", I bit my lips when I heard him saying.

"You look.... breathtakingly hot, Samantha. You are just a dream to watch....", and I couldn't stop blushing over his compliment. Did he just say that?

Fine, it's just a compliment, Sam.

My cheeks turned into crimson red as he moved closer to me. His eyes fell on my exposed legs and suddenly I felt shy under his hovering body. I felt my breath hitched somewhere as he leaned into my direction, I closed my eyes, clutching my fingers into my clutch. "Your heels....", I heard him saying,

I opened my eyes as I realised the strap of my heels was unlocked. Embarrassment celebrated me as I found him bent on his knees to fix it. He got straight only to be hovering over me, again.

A chill ran down my spine when he whispered in my ears, "Are you sure you want to go to this party, Samantha?", his voice was enough to break every inch of my self control.

I need something. I really need something to distract.

And there we go, my eyes fell on his shirt as I grabbed him by his collar, he was taken aback for a moment before I said, "Your tie....", I fixed it as it was loosened a bit.

Shit, did I really do that?

Told you, Samantha-nervousness-Abhimaan. A deadly combo.

"Hey!!!!!", we heard a sound as we drifted apart. Ruhaan and Amaira entered inside the hall as their eyes fixed on us. A wave of embarrassment took over me as I tried ignoring their smirk, "You both are looking extremely hot....", Amaira complimented.

"You too....", se said in unison, totally ignoring the existence of the intensity formed a minute ago."Let's go, bhai, bhabhi....", Amaira said and we nodded back.

"Sure....", I tried fixing my already fixed hair when Abhimaan said, "Are you comfortable in this dress, Samantha?", I looked at his soft gaze.

A soft chuckle left the room when Amaira said, "Someone is being possessive, huh?"

"I'm not being possessive", Abhimaan stated straight forwardly.

"It's fine, Mr. Malhotra", I wasn't sure but I said it anyways. Wearing the dress and looking at your own reflection in front of your mirror and then, carrying it in front of the whole world is different.

"C'mon, Bhabhi....", Ruhaan accompanied me as we left for the party. Abhimaan drove with Ruhaan sitting in the passenger seat. Meanwhile me and Amaira was at the back seat, "Bhabhi, you look adorable. That's the reason Bhai can't stop looking at you", Amaira said when my eyes fell on Abhimaan who was staring at me from the front mirror.

He immediately looked at the roadside as I blushed under his hidden gaze. Meanwhile Ruhaan and Amaira fought over some random shortcut street, we didn't realise when we reached at the venue.

Once we were helped out of the car, Ruhaan offered me his arm as Abhimaan did the same to Amaira. It was the moment I realised we were with different partners.

Was that giving you a pinch? Of course, not.

Ruhaan is better at dancing.

We were faced with few cameras although it was limited yet too much for a common girl like me. We managed to walk through the flashy lights and once we entered inside the hall, we sighed in relief. Shaurya greeted us as we were welcomed with so much grace and respect by him. "I was waiting for you guys", he said before we all started chatting with each other.

After having a chit chat, everyone started scattering around as Amaira and Ruhaan met with the other few people. Me being an introvert was fixed at one side of the table when I noticed Abhimaan meeting with a few businessmen. There was one thing in common they all were having and that was, respect and appreciation they had for Abhimaan. And no doubt, why Abhimaan is the leading business man of our country.

A shine of pride appeared on my face when he was having random eye contacts with me. As if his one eye is fixed at me already. A flame of heat rushed inside my organs as his gaze felt piercing every barrier of my soul. I roamed my eyes around to keep down the heat erupting inside me when a man probably in his late 50s came to my table.

"Hello, beautiful lady.... Can I have your attention, please?", even his voice was creep. And no sorry for that instant judgement. It was straight from my sixth sense. You know what I mean.

I chose to be polite as I maintained my professional smile, "Hello...."

He offered me to give my hand to him when I smiled awkwardly. I calmed down myself in my mind before giving my hand to him which he took it anyways. "It's Samantha Si.....", before I could complete my introduction, he already bent his head down to kiss on the back of my palm.

A disgusting face plastered over my skin when the next sight shocked me more. Before his lips could touch my hands, his mouth was already covered with the tissue as if someone glued it on him. I followed the direction and every organ of my body screamed one name, "Abhimaan....", trust me, he literally did that. He literally put tissue on this man's mouth which was in a pout pose as he was about to kiss my hands.

"Mr. Sehgal, Meet Samantha Singh Malhotra, my wife", Abhimaan's voice echoed as he said if that's a matter of pride for him. The man straighten up his position absolutely ignoring Abhimaan's not so sweet gesture.

"Nice meeting you, Mrs. Malhotra", a forced smile appeared on his face as he left immediately.

"What was that?", I crossed my arms across my chest as I faced Abhimaan.

"He was about to kiss your...."

"My hands", I completed.

"He can't", he replied coldly.

I raised my eyebrows at him, "In a professional way", I tried finishing my sentence when he interrupted carefreely.

"Doesn't matter. Nobody can touch you without your permission", he said, grabbing my hands, as he intertwined his fingers with mine.

I gazed at him, "That's ironical", I said looking at our hands.

"So, you don't want me to touch you or hold your hand, Samantha?", he asked immediately.

A bitter smile appeared on my face, "Now, that's something better", I snapped back after he left my hand.

No matter how much tantrums I threw, his hands leaving mine, didn't feel good to my heart. "Fine....", he said turning around and disappeared. Then, Amaira and Ruhaan joined me as they started talking back but my eyes screamed for the man I snapped at, minutes ago.

He literally disappeared after our encounter, "Excuse me....", I said to them and started roaming around the hall. My eyes searched for him but among the crowd of people, I could find him.

I matched towards the next corner of the hall when I heard muffling voices as I lifted my eyes to see few girls smiling around. As if they were watching something and gossiping to each other in excitement, "You should approach him. He looks so hot", I heard one of them saying to another as the girl marched ahead.

I noticed her steps and my eyes fell on the tall figure, standing across the bar counter. Abhimaan Malhotra, the charmer. The girl moved to his side, and the heat started burning inside me. What if I scream at the top of my lungs, 'Stay away from my man....', and won't be in the newspaper headlines tomorrow? Is it possible?

Wait, why the hell is she around him? What if she used a better perfume than me?

Are you for serious, Samantha?

Do something.

Kindly blame it to my subconscious as they provoked me to no extent. I moved to Abhimaan's side and his eyes fell on me, I immediately held his arms, pulling him towards me as he looked at me with a surprise on his face. The girl looked at me in disbelief and her expression satisfied the core of my soul as I started chanting, while my eyes fixed at her, "Bhoot pisaach nikat nahi aawe. Mahavir jab naam sunawe....", and then I heard a stomping foot not before she gave me a bitchy glare as she left. As if I care....

I smirked back at her reaction when I felt a silence across my soul. 'Lagta hai maine kuch kaand kiya hai', I thought before I felt a hand pulling me.

("I think I have done something wrong again")

I realised it was Abhimaan but it was too late as I was already inside a big room. With the surroundings, it felt like it was a study room or something. Scattered papers, bundle of giles, a chair and a big desk place at the centre of the hall. Although the room was big yet I felt captivated under his arms, "Mr. Malhotra....", I whispered resting my hands on his chest as he pinned me to the nearest wall.

His tall figure hovered over me enough for me to break my breath, "Are you jealous, Samantha?", he said in a teasing voice.

I snapped back at him, "Of course, not. Why would I be jealous, Mr. Malhotra?", I shrugged off my shoulders.

His eyes softened when he leaned his face closer to me, "Samantha....", I looked down as he lifted up my face by pointing it at my chin.

"Your perfume is the only addiction I ever had, Samantha. You don't have to worry about anyone. I belong to you and only you", he said softly.

Was I too loud? How did he know that?

"I know it Samantha. I can read your eyes....", he said in a soft voice as I gazed at him.

I think I'm.

Yet his words sent shivers down my spine as my heart flattered in ways I fail to understand, "I should go, Mr. Malhotra....", I tried ignoring an eye contact with him when he pulled me back, closer to him.

He rested his forehead on mine as he whispered softly, "Samantha...."

I felt to deprive everything into words, the storm he was bringing inside me when I closed my eyes to gulp the proximity between us, "Hmmm....", my hands clutched onto his blazer tightly.

His breath fell on my face and I was melting with every second, as I heard him saying, "Pata hi nahi chala.... Itna pyar kab hua tumse....", my world moved upside down as the drop of tear fell down my cheeks but my cheeks felt wet way before then it. Gulping the lump in my throat, I opened my eyes only to see him, crying.

("I didn't realise when I fell for you this hardly")

Yes, only to see Abhimaan Malhotra crying....

The cold, ruthless Abhimaan Malhotra crying in my arms.

***************************************

I feel like Abhimaan is suffering silently. 🥺

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