𝟏𝟎: 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐞

"mareez-e-ishq hoon main, karde dawa.

haath rakh de, tu dil pe zara."

My palms were bruised so badly that I couldn't do a simple task on my own. I hate the vulnerable state I'm in right now, plus, the doctor has given me loads of medicines to take.

The doctor also said I won't be able to walk or work like earlier, because my body went through a panic attack and my blood pressure is still low.

But what I can't stop thinking about is what Nirwan ji told me. Aryan bhaiya and Sakshi di aren't my real siblings?

How is it even possible? And if it is, why didn't papa tell me about this truth? Am I too worthless to be known to these things?

I was always told my mumma passed away giving birth to me, and Sakshi di always talked about her as if she was her own mother and she had spent her childhood with mumma until I was born.

Did she lie?

Did papa lie?

And only Nirwan ji is right?

How does Nirwan ji know the truth I don't know?

He may be assuming it all. It can't be true. Aryan bhaiya and Sakshi di are related to me by blood. I don't care if my mumma was papa's second wife, we are still related to each other by blood and we are siblings.

Yet Aryan bhaiya hates me so much that he wants me to die. He is ready to kill me with his own hands. I never looked at him with those hatred filled eyes ever, even when he always shrugged me off and ignored me like anything.

Still he was about to kill me.

Nobody in this world wants me to live. Nirwan ji saved me at the temple just because I'm his wife and he is a politician who cares about his reputation. It's obvious that he won't let anything happen to me because his first wife died as well.

I should end my life. I don't deserve to live. If hell is what I have to live in, I'd rather go to the actual hell.

I stood up slowly, walking towards the dressing table. I opened the drawer and took out the scissor lying inside, pointing the tip on my wrist.

Tears welled up in my eyes, while I shut them tightly, slowly digging in the tip of the scissor into my flesh.

I felt a stinging pain as my skin started tearing away from the pressure and sharpness, while I pressed my lips together to prevent myself from wincing in pain.

It was when I felt someone snatching the scissor from my hand suddenly, while I snapped my eyes open and turned around to find Nirwan ji glaring at me.

"Pagal ho gayi ho kya? Kya kar rahi thi yeh?" he asked, his voice slightly raised, sending shivers down my spine.

[Have you gone mad? What were you doing?]

"Nirwan ji, give it back! I don't deserve to live!" I cried out, trying to grab the scissor back from him.

"Aakriti!" he shouted, making me freeze at my spot, while I stared at him with my tear stained face, blood dripping from my wrist.

He grabbed my arm harshly and dragged me towards the bed, pushing me slightly to make me settle down.

I thought he would simply walk out of the room giving me a deadly look, but he instead knelt down and took my hands in his.

My bandaged palms started bleeding again because I held the scissor with pressure. He looked up at me with a weird look.

"The doctor asked you not to touch anything, right? Why don't you listen, Aakriti? You're not a kid!" he said, while I looked down.

"If nobody ever listened to me, why should I listen to everyone else? Who cares for me here? No one is even bothered to-"

"I do."

I looked up at him immediately when he cut me off with those words. My eyes widened slightly, while his expression hardened again.

"I do care about your well being. I haven't accepted you as my wife, but legally you are my wife and I have to make every effort to keep you safe from all the dangers that have nothing to do with you. Aryan Arora is only trying to attack you because he can't do anything to me. He knows it very well that I have taken your responsibility and that you're my wife now. If anything happens to you, my reputation will be at a loss and Aryan will win this battle."

I remained quiet while he spoke all that out in one go, making me feel a pang in my chest.

I've actually gone crazy. I'm dreaming of dying and Nirwan ji is making every effort to keep me safe and alive.

He sighed and stood up, bringing the first aid kit from the drawer. He settled down beside me and took my hands back on his lap, before starting to aid my bruises and also the one that I just got from the scissor.

He didn't speak a word throughout the minutes he aided my bruises.

"N-Nirwan ji, can I ask you something?" I asked, while he remained unresponsive, but I knew he wanted me to continue.

"What happened to your f-first wife?"

I never thought I would ask him this question this soon, but it has been eating me from inside since the start.

I really wanted to know what happened to his first wife and how she died. He might be annoyed, but maybe, just maybe, he would tell me now when I'm in this condition.

He stopped doing what he was doing, and shot his gaze up at my face. I bit my lip, trying to pull out the truth from him.

"She died."

"I know she d...I mean, I know that but what exactly happened to her?" I asked, my heart beating faster than ever.

"Why do you want to know? It has nothing to do with you," he scoffed, continuing to wrap the bandage around my palms.

"It has to. I'm just curious to know what happened to her and how a beautiful and happy woman like her had to give up on her life," I said, trying to sound only 'curious'.

"Stop being so curious and mind the business you should," he replied sarcastically, before standing up and walking away to keep the first aid kit back in the drawer.

I rolled my eyes at his behaviour; he is so difficult to understand. One moment, he is all surprisingly caring, and grumpy in the next.

My stomach growled in the already silent room, while pink colour flushed into my cheeks. The sound was loud enough for Nirwan ji to hear, and I couldn't help but look down at my hands in embarrassment.

"Have you eaten anything?" he asked, while I looked up with a pale look and shook my head.

I know I might be looking like a tomato, or maybe worse, like a toddler girl who applied loads of blush on her cheeks after stealing her mother's makeup.

But his expression remained hardened, while I thought he would probably laugh looking at me.

"I'll ask the servants to bring your lunch here," he said, while I stopped him.

"Nahi, hum khud chale jayenge," I said, while he glared at me again.

[No, I'll go on my own.]

"Haalat dekhi hai apni? Idiot," he taunted, before walking out of the room.

[Have you seen your condition? Idiot.]

Who does he think he is?

Neta honge apne ghar ke, humse baat toh theek se kar lete.

[He must be the politician of his house, at least he should have talked nicely to me.]

Grumpy.

I waited for a few minutes, when he walked back inside the room with two plates in his hands.

I wasn't so hungry that I would eat two plates.

He kept a plate on the nightstand, and sat down in front of me with one.

I turned towards the nightstand and reached out to try and hold the plate, when he stopped me.

"What are you doing?" he asked, making me frown.

"Taking the plate so that I can eat," I replied as a matter of fact, while he sighed.

"How will you eat? I'll make you."

My eyes widened, my heartbeat fastening at his words.

Did I hear him right?

First he made me drink water, and now he is going to feed me?

Nirwan Malhotra will feed ME?

"Ghoor kya rahi ho?" His voice snapped me out of my thoughts, while I shook my head multiple times.

[What are you staring at?]

He offered me the first morsel, while I opened my mouth and silently started eating.

I never thought he would have a soft side. Especially to me.

I slowly ate, while he continued to feed me without uttering a single word. I was really hungry, I didn't even bother to ask anyone to bring me food.

Is he going to feed me everyday?

"N-Nirwan ji...will you-"

"Don't talk while eating," he cut me off, while I fell silent again, eating quietly.

I finished eating in about ten minutes, while he made me drink water slowly. He set my plate aside and sat back down with his own, "What were you saying?"

"I was asking, will you feed me everything until my hands are alright?" I asked, while he nodded.

"I have to. There is no other way you can eat," he replied, starting to eat himself.

I suddenly felt a weird sensation in my stomach. I felt warmth everywhere inside my body; I was unaware about these sensations.

I never felt these things ever happen to me. I don't understand what is going so wrong with me that I am angry with Nirwan ji one moment, then I am melting at him in the other.

I didn't realise I was staring at him all the time while he was eating, and he looked up at me to meet my gaze.

I immediately looked away, staring around at the room as if I was new to this place. The situation cannot be any more awkward than it is right now.

My eyes scanned the photo frames of him with his first wife on the walls for the thousandth time.

Every time I made fantasies of winning his heart, all of those fantasies shatter in a second when I look at these frames.

He didn't take them off the walls, and I know he will never do it too. I am nowhere around the place in his heart where his first wife lived.

☆

A month had passed since that incident. My health was alright, including the bruises on my palms. I was like earlier now, and the doctor told me I can stop the medicines now.

Thank God I got rid of those. But the only thing I missed was Nirwan ji's special treatment.

He used to help me eat, drink, visit the bathroom, and he even arranged for a few servants who helped me to bathe and get ready when my palms were bruised.

I thought he might soften a bit towards me, but once I was told I'm ready to do my things on my own again, he switched back to the same Nirwan Malhotra he was.

Maybe my expectations from him were a bit too much.

He has been outside home a lot these days. He barely comes home early, he's always late when he enters the bedroom and silently goes to bed.

Bed, yes. He has started sleeping on the same bed as me, only because the bed is extra large and we can maintain comfortable distance while sleeping.

He keeps a line of pillows between us because I sometimes ended up hugging him like a koala while sleeping, and that embarrassed the shit out of me.

It's ten in the night, while I sit beside the window, staring outside at the road getting wet from the rain.

It's been raining for no reason, however rain in the summers is just as relaxing as anything else in this world.

My phone buzzed while I received the incoming call of Surbhi. It's been days since we last spoke over the call.

"Hey, babe. What's up?" her bubbly voice echoed from the other side, while I chuckled.

"Alright, babe. What about you?" I asked, trying to sound as flirtatious as her.

She chuckled at my tone, "I'm alright too. How's your health? Is jiju taking care?"

"Hm, he took really good care of me when I was not well. However, he is the same now when he got to know I was alright," I replied, while she hummed in response.

"He probably cares for you. He may not show it, but deep down, he does," she said, convincingly. She has been saying this since the day I told her about the treatment I received from Nirwan ji.

"I don't know, maybe. But he never stays at home these days either. He leaves early in the morning and returns late at night. I have barely seen him interact with his family too in the past week," I said, while she hummed again.

"Maybe he is busy finding Aryan bhaiya? He would surely not want to be blamed again if anything happens to you, aka his second wife," she said, making me frown.

"Why will he be blamed if anything happens to me?" I asked, trying to process her words.

"Because he was accused to murder his first wife."

My heart skipped a beat at the new information I just received from her. What is she saying?

"What?" I asked, not wanting her to repeat her words, just processing if what she said was heard right by me.

"You don't know? Come on, you're his second wife and you don't know about his first wife?" she asked, while I shook my head, knowing really well she wouldn't be able to see it.

"No."

"She was brutally murdered. The case went on for three years, and at the end, Nirwan Malhotra was accused to murder her. But I don't feel he would have done it, because his supporters even said the police didn't find any proof of him to be the murderer in the journal his wife wrote."

I blankly listened to her words. Nirwan ji murdered his wife? But why would he do that?

I know he is ruthless, but I would never imagine him murdering his wife. It's so evident from these photo frames inside his room that he loved her more than his own life.

But why was he accused even if his wife's journals didn't have his name?

Wait, journals?

"His wife used to write journals?" I asked, while she hummed as usual.

"Not many, she wrote only one journal which she started writing about three months before her murder," she replied, while my eyes widened at the new information.

She is my best friend, and I never ever knew any of this even after being a politician's daughter. I was always so busy with my stuff that I never paid attention to the outer world.

Journal. If his first wife has written everything in a so-called journal, I am very much curious to read it.

Now I know why Nirwan ji didn't tell me anything about his wife. He himself doesn't know who murdered her, and is scared that I would accuse him as the murderer too.

But all I wanna do is to know what exactly she wrote in the journal.

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Love y'all,

Ayra Roy