CHAPTER XXXIX
Slowly… I opened my eyes.
The world came into view in blurred shapes and softened light, and the first face I saw—hovering right in front of me—was my mother's. Her eyes were swollen, her face pale with worry, and the moment our eyes met, a wave of emotion crashed into me like a tide I hadn't expected.
Tears welled up in my eyes.
Not from pain.
But from disbelief.
From the overwhelming realization that I was still alive.
"Mom…" My voice cracked as I spoke. "I'm… alive. I'm really alive. I didn't think I would be."
The words tumbled from my lips like a whispered confession, raw and fragile. And in that instant, something inside me broke—something heavy I hadn't realized I'd been carrying.
I cried.
Because I had been sure I wouldn't open my eyes again.
But I had.
And my mother—my strength, my comfort—was right here, holding my hand as if she never let go.
"Samriddhi…" she said gently, her voice trembling with love and fear, "Don't say anything more right now. Just rest. Please, sweetheart… just rest."
I blinked through the tears, trying to hold on to the moment—her face, her warmth, the reality of being safe again.
"Is Papa here?" I whispered, a sudden need swelling in my chest.
She nodded quickly, brushing a hand through my hair. "Yes, yes, he is. He's just outside. I'll call him in right now."
She gave my hand a soft squeeze, then stood up and stepped outside the room.
A few seconds later, the door opened again.
And my father walked in.
The man I had always seen as strong… unshakable… like stone.
But today—
Today his eyes were filled with tears.
Tears I had never, ever imagined I would see in his eyes.
He rushed to my bedside and sat down without a word. His hands trembled as he took mine. His lips quivered as he looked at me—not with anger, not with disappointment… but with fear. The kind that comes only when you almost lose someone you love more than life itself.
"Samriddhi…" he breathed, his voice thick, broken. "You scared me. You really scared me."
His words weren't loud. They weren't dramatic.
But they pierced through me like lightning.
"No one… no one should ever do something like that. Not to themselves. Not to their family."
I looked at him, guilt tightening around my heart.
"I'm sorry, Papa," I whispered. "I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I… I just… I didn't know how to keep going."
He leaned in, resting his forehead against our joined hands, his shoulders shaking.
"Promise me, Samriddhi… promise me you'll never do this again."
I nodded through the tears, my voice barely a breath.
"I promise. I swear. I'll never do this again."
He looked up at me, and for a long moment, we just stared at each other—no more walls, no more masks. Just a father and daughter, both carrying invisible wounds.
And in that quiet hospital room…
Something began to heal.
Not completely. Not all at once.
But a beginning.
A second chance.
A breath I didn't know I still had.
And this time—I wasn't going to waste it.
As I lay on the hospital bed, my strength slowly returning, my father sat beside me, gently stroking my hair. His presence had become a quiet comfort, a reminder that no matter how low I had fallen, I wasn't alone.
Then, in a soft voice, he said, "Samriddhi… Malvika has been sitting outside for a while now, waiting to see you."
I blinked. "Malvika?"
He chuckled slightly, as if remembering something fond. "Yes… your Dixit."
A flicker of recognition passed through me. Mon.
I nodded, and he smiled before stepping out of the room.
A few moments later, the door creaked open again.
And then… she walked in.
Mon.
The moment her eyes landed on me, her composure shattered. She rushed to my bedside, dropped her bag without a second thought, and wrapped her arms around me—tight, desperate, trembling.
She broke down completely, her voice shaking as she whispered, "Sam… please. Don't ever lie to me again and just disappear like that. Do you even know how terrified I was when I saw you in that swimming pool? I didn't even have time to call for help. I—I saw you like that, and I… I just reacted. Somehow… somehow I got you out. But only I know what it took."
I sat there frozen, letting her words crash into me like waves. I had imagined this moment—our reunion—but not like this.
"Wait," I said, gently pulling back from her embrace. "Are you saying… you saved me, Mon?"
She sniffled, wiping her face quickly. "I'm not saying it to boast. I'm telling you because I want to share what I felt, Sam. I was terrified. I was—" she paused, trying to steady her breath, "—I was so scared of losing you."
But something inside me had shifted since that day. Something had grown cold.
I looked at her, my voice quieter now, heavier. "It doesn't feel like you're just sharing, Mon. It feels like you want me to owe you something."
She stepped back, blinking in confusion. "What? Sam… why would I want that? What's gotten into you?"
I turned my face away. "Nothing. Just… leave it, okay?"
"No," she said, her voice breaking a little. "I won't leave it. What's wrong? Why are you speaking like this?"
I closed my eyes and sighed. "Mon… I don't want to go anywhere with you. Not now. Maybe not ever. Please… just step outside. I'm feeling suffocated."
I didn't shout.
I didn't cry.
But those words were enough.
Enough to twist a knife between us—sharper than any blade.
There was a silence. Heavy. Crippling.
When I glanced up, I couldn't even meet her eyes.
But I knew what I'd find there.
Tears.
The same eyes that once held spark and mischief now filled with pain—tears forming at the corners, her lips quivering, trying to stay strong.
And then she whispered the words that sliced through the quiet:
"I can bear your cold gaze, Sam. But your bitter truth… I can't endure that."
I didn't reply.
I couldn't.
I turned my face away… slowly lying back down on the bed, letting the silence stretch between us like a wall.
Mon stood there for a moment longer.
Waiting.
Hoping.
But I gave her nothing.
No glance. No apology. No explanation.
And then… without another word, she turned and walked out of the room.
The door clicked shut behind her.
And just like that, I felt the weight of something precious slipping through my fingers.
But I was too lost to stop it.
Too uncertain to pull her back.
And too afraid… that maybe Ashwin was right about her all along.
Whatever this was between Mon and me—it had cracked.
And I didn't know if it could ever be whole again.
To be continued…