Author's pov-
Those eyes,
The same eyes that were filled with lust when he raped her but she was not able to do anything..not even scream.
A jolt of recognition sent shivers down her spine, making her stomach churn. It was like the world shifted beneath her feet. Time slowed, the laughter and conversations around her fading into a muffled hum. Her breath hitched. She froze mid-step, her posture stiffening as though struck by an invisible force.
Her mind went blank.
No, not blank-flooded. Memories she had buried deep, memories she swore she would never revisit, came crashing down like a tidal wave. The air around her felt suffocating, her vision narrowing until all she could see were those hauntingly familiar eyes.
Her hands started shaking.
She couldn't move, couldn't think beyond the realization clawing its way through her chest.
It wasn't just the eyes-it was the jagged scar on his wrist, a mark she had seen in a moment of agonizing clarity that night. Her gaze locked onto it, disbelief and horror intertwining in a storm within her.
Her chest felt heavy, the weight of the past crushing her all over again. She had worked so hard to bury the pain, to seal it behind the icy walls she had built around herself. And now, it was as if those walls were cracking, splintering with every passing second.
She gritted her teeth, trying to steady herself, but her body betrayed her. A cold sweat broke out on her forehead. Her nails dug into her palms, grounding herself in the physical pain to keep from collapsing under the emotional one.
She was trapped in that moment, her gaze locked onto him as if looking away would make her lose her grip on the truth.
The surroundings around her faded, replaced by flashes of dim light, the suffocating weight of fear, and the taunting echoes of cruel laughter.
"Didn't think someone like you could break so easily, huh?"
The voice was low, mocking, dripping with venom.
Her nails dug deeper into her palms, the sharp pain grounding her, but the words kept coming.
"Such a fighter... and look at you now."
The tone was chilling, the kind of voice that burrows into your soul, refusing to leave.
"Beg. Let's see if you're good at that, too. Ohh my bad, you can't even move, let alone beg "
Her breath hitched as the memory clawed at her, jagged and relentless.
Siara's mind spiraled further into the abyss as the vile comments from that night replayed in broken fragments, like jagged glass cutting through her soul.
" Aahh You're nothing now. Just a toy for us to break. I think she wants me to go faster guys"
The voice had been laced with cruelty, the kind of tone that wasn't just meant to hurt-it was meant to destroy.
"Struggling? Go on, it's more fun for us."
Her breath hitched as the memory seared through her like fire.
"You'll never forget us. You'll never be the same. Ohh she is bleeding bro, well looks like she'll feel me for days."
The laugh that followed was cold, merciless, echoing in her head as if they were standing right behind her now.
Siara's jaw tightened, her breath coming in shallow gasps. Her body felt frozen, her mind screaming at her to do something, anything, but all she could feel was the weight of those words crushing her.
Her knees buckled slightly, but she forced herself upright, biting down hard on the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood.
But the voices wouldn't stop.
"More? You want more baby? Don't worry, we are four. You'll be thoroughly satisfied. No, not satisfied, Hospitalised"
Her chest tightened as the words echoed endlessly in her mind. The shame, the fear, the helplessness-it all came crashing back with a force she couldn't fight.
"Take pictures from some better angle, afterall she is a hot piece of art"
The cruelty in their tone was meant to strip her of everything, leaving her bare and broken.
The words echoed louder, the cruel verdict of her tormentors wrapping around her like suffocating smoke.
Siara recognised him. She recognised the first monster. This was why she had spent sleepless nights learning to fight, why she had poured herself into boxing, martial arts, anything that would make her stronger. She had prepared for this day, replaying countless scenarios in her mind where she would face them, unflinching, unafraid.
But now, standing in the luxurious hall with her family just steps away, she felt like that helpless girl again, trapped in a nightmare she could never wake from.
The confident neurologist, who could calm panicked patients with her steady hands and sharp mind, now felt utterly unraveled. Her trauma surged to the surface, clawing at her, reminding her that no amount of training could ever truly prepare her for this moment. The neurologist who could mend minds now couldn't control her own. For the first time in years, Dr. Siara felt powerless.
She couldn't do anything. She was not in her senses anymore. She was not even aware of her surroundings anymore. She just turned and left.
Mahir had been talking to a group of investors when he noticed Siara leaving the grand hall. Her poised demeanor, which had been unwavering the entire night, now seemed rushed, almost frantic. He paused mid-sentence, his brows furrowing as she disappeared through the double doors. Something was wrong.
Excusing himself hastily, Mahir followed her, his heart pounding with unease.
He called out, "Siara! Siaraa, stop!" but she didn't stop, didn't even turn back. The way she was walking-fast, almost stumbling-made his concern deepen.
By the time he reached the parking lot, it was eerily silent. The dim glow of the overhead lights illuminated the empty space, the echoes of the party muffled behind the heavy venue doors. And then he saw her.
Near their car, Siara collapsed, her back sliding down the door until she was sitting on the cold asphalt. Her body trembled uncontrollably, her hands gripping her chest as if she were struggling to breathe.
"Siara!" Mahir called again, his voice sharper this time as panic settled in. He ran to her, crouching down beside her.
"Siara, look at me! What's wrong?" he asked, his hands lightly gripping her shoulders. But she didn't respond. Her head was lowered, her breaths shallow and rapid, and her entire frame shuddered with every inhale.
Mahir had seen her cold, indifferent, and unshakable, but never like this. This wasn't the Dr. Siara he knew-the one who could freeze an entire room with a single glare. This was someone broken, someone drowning in a storm he couldn't understand.
He gently placed his hands on either side of her face, trying to get her to meet his gaze. "Siara, it's me, Mahir. Look at me. What's happening?" he pleaded, his own voice trembling slightly.
Her eyes remained unfocused, her mind clearly elsewhere. Her hands clawed at her chest as if she were trying to tear something invisible away. Mahir could feel his heart sink.
He spoke again, his tone softer but firm. "Siara, I'm here. Breathe with me. In and out. Slow. Please."
For a moment, it was as if she didn't even hear him, lost in whatever nightmare had taken over her mind.
Mahir cursed under his breath, unsure of what to do. He pulled her gently into his arms, cradling her as he whispered, "You're okay. You're safe. I promise, I'm not leaving you. Just breathe. Please, Siara. Look nothing is happening, we are going home then you can read your medical journals in silence, I swear I'll make sure, that circus will not disturb you but please just try to breathe."
His hand stroked her back gently, trying to steady her trembling. "You know what? If it helps, I'll apologize to Avi for leaving you earlier. Hell, I'll even let him glare at me for a full minute if that's what you need. Not just that, I'll-" He hesitated, looking down at her pale face, still lost in her panic, and blurted out, "I'll throw those cartoons-Kabir, Shivay, all of them-out of the house. They and their fucking Icy jokes will be gone, Siara. Just... just breathe."
His voice broke as her shaking worsened. "FUCKING BREATHE, SIARA!" he yelled, his fear exploding in frustration.
And for a moment, everything was still. The sudden silence after his outburst seemed to cut through the haze of her panic. Her breathing hitched, and though her chest still heaved, her trembling started to slow, her grip on his shirt tightening as if anchoring herself. But she was still having difficulty in breathing.
Her breathing remained ragged, her chest heaving as she struggled to speak.
Siara's hand trembled as she pointed weakly toward the car. "P-p-purse..." she managed to stutter, her voice barely audible. "I-inj...e-ection...inside."
Mahir frowned, his brain racing to make sense of her broken words. "Purse? Injection?" he repeated, looking at her pale face for confirmation. She nodded faintly, her trembling finger still pointing toward the car.
"Alright, Siara. I'm getting it, please just stay with me." he said, his voice firm despite his racing pulse. He gently lowered her against the car door, making sure she wouldn't fall over.
He bolted toward the car, pulling the door open with force and diving for her bag," Where the hell is it?" he muttered to himself, his hands rifling through the back seat. He finally spotted it, a sleek black bag tucked near the passenger seat. Grabbing it, he rushed back to her side, kneeling down as he unzipped the purse with shaking hands.
His hands moved frantically, shoving aside papers and small medical tools until he spotted the injection she had mentioned and a small vial.
He sprinted back, dropping to his knees beside her. "Is this the one?" he asked, holding it up for confirmation. Siara gave the faintest nod, her head barely moving as she continued to gasp for air.
Mahir's hands fumbled as he prepared the injection, his mind screaming at him to stay calm. "I'm not a doctor, damn it, I am a doctor's husband" he muttered, his voice shaking as he loaded the syringe. "I can do it, of course I can do it. I'm no ordinary man, I'm The Mahir Sehgal, husband of this queen of Antarctica" he motivated himself
Siara's lips twitched at his nervousness. She was out of the trauma but she was still having difficulty in breathing.
"You're a doctor, Siara. You'll hate me forever if I mess this up," he muttered under his breath, trying to focus. He gently administered the injection, his movements careful but swift.
As the medication began to take effect, Siara's breathing slowly steadied. The gasping subsided, her chest rising and falling at a more even pace. Her trembling hands relaxed slightly, though the lingering traces of fear still danced in her wide, unfocused eyes.
Mahir let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He gently placed a hand on her shoulder, his touch careful and grounding. "Siara," he said softly, leaning closer to meet her gaze. "You're okay. Just keep breathing. That's it. Nice and slow."
She blinked, her vision beginning to clear as the tightness in her chest eased. Her hand moved instinctively to her throat, her fingertips brushing against her skin as if confirming she could finally breathe again.
"Don't... say anything," she muttered hoarsely, her voice cracking but firm enough to convey she didn't want pity.
"I wasn't planning to," he replied, his tone softer than ever. But his eyes betrayed him, filled with concern he couldn't mask. "Just tell me.... What was that?"
"Anxiety attack," she said while looking at him.
Mahir didn't press. He stayed crouched beside her, his presence a silent reassurance as she steadied herself. "Whenever you're ready," he said quietly, knowing this wasn't the time to force answers.
After a moment, she exhaled deeply, her usual cold demeanor beginning to slip back into place. "Help me up," she said, her tone more composed now but still laced with exhaustion.
"Biwi, this is the third time you're asking me to help you get up, what are your intentions?" Mahir smirked trying to lighten up her mood.
"Don't get used to it Mr. sehgal. Also, are you really going to do all those things you mentioned earlier?" Siara asked him with a faint smirk.
Mahir chuckled softly, trying to mask the immense relief flooding through him. She, for the first time almost smiled at him and that faint smirk didn't go unnoticed by him. He replied her,"If you want me to, then yes"
"Then do all that, except that circus and cartoon thing," she told him.
Mahir nodded without hesitation, extending his hand to her. "Let's get you home," he said softly, his voice steady yet laced with an undercurrent of concern. As his fingers wrapped gently around hers, he carefully helped her to her feet, keeping a watchful eye on her every movement.
Siara's silence was deafening, her expression guarded and unreadable. Yet, the tremor in her hand hadn't completely disappeared, and Mahir felt a pang of unease twist in his chest.
Questions swirled relentlessly in his mind, unanswered and maddening. What had triggered her so suddenly? Why had she, the ever-unshakable Dr. Siara, broken down like that? What was she hiding behind that carefully constructed mask?
But the question that lingered in his mind, louder than all the rest, was this: "Is she this broken, or what he saw was just the surface of something far deeper?"
But one thing was clear, That night, did change things for them.
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From Author,
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