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ARMAAN

Yes it was better this way.

This is best for everyone.

' this is best for you' a small , tiny part of him sneaked into his thoughts.

"No." He shook his head , as if banishing the thought altogether , his hands on the steering wheel clenched tight.

After dropping Mausam home, he drove away, onto the road , he could not face her.

It was him , always him disappointing her !

He thought as he raced the car.

Everything sped by , and he felt like letting himself loose, but the picture of his family flashed in my mind.

His wife , his children, they had no one to depend on but him.

He eased on the exceletor.

His breath came hard and laboured.

He stopped on the roadside , and watched as the cars sped by , trucks , buses.

Why did she even want that?

A therapist?

The scene played his my mind , without break, as his mind went on a memory lane he did not want to think about.

Did she think they could be what they were before that incident happened.

Before he failed her.

He had not been enough for her , he had known that the moment he saw her, on their engagement she had that hope and intensity in her eyes , that hunger for a relationship so honest , the strength to give her heart completely , that he immediately knew , that he could never be enough for my wife.

Because he did not have those things in me, he did not have in me to give his heart to someone completely.

He could not give it , even if he wanted to.

He was not whole , hisblack , shriveled , coward of a self wasn't something he could bare to her.

He could not let her see the REAL HIM,

If she did ,

She would run.

And loosing her was not an option.

He breathed in torment.

To get to where he was ,

To provide for him family with the wealth and status they had , he had to dirty his hands , it did an irreparable damage to his soul that it was tarnished.

He could not give her hope of a relationship and then watch her eyes go dead as before.

He knew how that ended.

He could never see her like that , not again.

When in the early days of marriage he had not detered her , when he had been greedy for her merest glance.

The lights were off, still he.knew Mausam was awake , though she would not talk to him.now.

She did.that often. Not talking to him after she talking non stop,and he did not give any answer , it was odd that he missed her rambling.

Still, he looked down at the roses , maybe if he told her the truth she would understand? He dismissed the thought as soon as it came.

No he could not tell her,he could not tell anyone.

He won't be able to breathe if she looked at him with contempt , if she hated him, or if she left him.

His breathing become a bit laboured at the thought.

He rid of all the thoughts.

It will be okay, he will beg her forgiveness , she would forgive him, she trusted him, dare he say she felt as deeply as him! He thought with his cheeks warming.

Mausam has that effect on him, he grew warm all over , feeling something light up in his heart.

He stood outside his bedroom.door , remembering how he left this evening.

The argument replayed in his mind, every word Mausam had said laced with frustration and hurt.

"You don't care, Armaan! You're never here when I need you!"

"I can't be at your beck and call, Mausam. You need to stop clinging to me like this. I have responsibilities!"

The words had come out sharper than he intended, but he hadn't stopped to soften them. Instead, he had grabbed his keys and walked out the door, telling himself that she'd calm down and they'd talk later.

He slowly slid the door open.

"Mausam?" he called out, his voice tentative. No answer.

The room was dark , she liked to be in dark sometimes.

As he approached, a strange sense of dread curled in his stomach. He stopped short when he saw her.

She was lying on the cold marble floor, her body crumpled, a pool of dark red spreading beneath her. Her face was pale, her eyes closed, her lips slightly parted as if she had been calling for him.

"Mausam!" he shouted, his voice breaking. He dropped to his knees beside her, his hands trembling as he touched her face. "Mausam, wake up! Please, wake up!"

She didn't stir. His hands shook as he pressed them against her shoulders, gently shaking her. That's when he noticed the blood. So much blood. His vision blurred as panic gripped him.

"Oh God. Oh no. Mausam, stay with me," he whispered, his voice frantic.

He scrambled for his phone, his fingers fumbling as he dialed the emergency number. "I need an ambulance," he said, his voice shaking. "My wife... she's bleeding. Please hurry!"

He had her limp body into his arms. Her head lolled against his chest, her skin cold to the touch.

"Don't do this to me, Mausam," he murmured, his voice trembling. "Don't you dare leave me."

The ride to the hospital was a blur. Armaan drove like a man possessed, ignoring traffic lights and honking horns. His mind raced with prayers, desperate promises, and the overwhelming fear that he might lose her.

When they reached the hospital, he burst through the emergency room doors, shouting for help. "Somebody, please! My wife needs help!"

A team of doctors and nurses rushed forward, taking Mausam from his arms and placing her on a stretcher. Armaan stumbled after them, his hands still stained with her blood.

"Please, save her," he begged, his voice breaking. "Save my wife"

The doctors didn't respond, their faces grim as they wheeled her into the emergency ward. A nurse stopped him at the doorway, blocking his path.

"You can't go in, sir. Please wait here," she said firmly.

"But—"

"We'll do everything we can. Please, take a seat."

He didn't sit. He couldn't. He paced the length of the waiting room, his thoughts a chaotic swirl of panic and guilt. Every minute felt like an eternity.

Finally, after what felt like hours, a doctor emerged. His expression was grave.

"Mr. Armaan?"

"Yes," Armaan said, rushing toward him. "How is she? Is she okay? "

The doctor hesitated.

"Your wife is stable," the doctor said carefully. "But I'm sorry. We couldn't save the baby."

Armaan felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. He stumbled backward, his legs hitting a chair, forcing him to sit. The doctor's words repeated in his mind, echoing like a cruel mantra.

" Baby !"

She was pregnant!

Is that what she wanted to tell me!

That he was going to be a father !

"We couldn't save the baby."

His hands trembled as he buried his face in them, hot tears streaming down his cheeks.

Hours later, Armaan sat by Mausam's bedside. She was still unconscious, her face pale against the stark white of the hospital pillow. Her hands lay limp by her sides, hooked up to IV drips and monitors that beeped softly in the background.

He stared at her, his vision blurred with tears that refused to stop.

"This is all my fault," he whispered, his voice cracking.

The memory of their argument played in his mind again, each word cutting deeper than the last. She had been right. He hadn't been there for her. When she needed him the most, he had walked out the door, leaving her alone.

He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. The pain grounded him, but it didn't ease the suffocating guilt in his chest.

"I should have been here," he said, his voice barely audible. "I should have stayed. Maybe... maybe if I had been here, this wouldn't have happened. Maybe our baby would still be alive."

A sob tore from his throat, and he buried his face in his hands.

"I'm sorry, Mausam," he choked out. "I'm so, so sorry."

His mind spiraled, dragging him into the darkest corners of his thoughts.

"I failed you. I failed our child. What kind of husband am I? What kind of father could I ever hope to be?"

He thought of all the moments he had put his work above her—late nights at the office, missed dinners, broken promises. He had told himself it was for their future, that everything he did was to give them a better life. But what was the point of a better life if he wasn't there to share it with her?

He reached for her hand, his fingers trembling as they wrapped around hers. Her hand was cold, too cold, and it sent a shiver down his spine.

"I don't deserve you," he whispered, tears streaming down his face. "I don't deserve to be your husband. I don't deserve to be a father."

The weight of his failure crushed him, pulling him deeper into despair. He had always prided himself on being strong, on being in control. But now, sitting by Mausam's bedside, he felt utterly broken.

"I'll never forgive myself for this," he said, his voice barely audible.

The hours passed slowly, the soft beeping of the monitors the only sound in the room. Armaan didn't move from his spot, his hand still clutching Mausam's. He stared at her face, willing her to wake up, to open her eyes and tell him it was okay—that she didn't blame him.

But deep down, he knew he didn't deserve her forgiveness.

When Mausam finally stirred, it was the faintest movement—a flutter of her eyelids, a small twitch of her fingers. Armaan sat up, his heart leaping in his chest.

"Mausam?" he said softly, leaning closer.

Her eyes opened slowly, unfocused and glassy. She looked around the room, confusion clouding her face.

"Where... where am I?" she whispered, her voice hoarse.

"You're in the hospital," Armaan said gently, his voice trembling. "You... you had a miscarriage."

Her eyes widened slightly, and then they filled with tears.

"No," she whispered, shaking her head weakly. "No, no, no..."

"I'm so sorry," Armaan said, his voice breaking. "I'm so sorry, Mausam. This is all my fault."

She turned her head away from him, her tears streaming silently onto the pillow. Armaan reached for her hand, but she didn't respond.

"I should have been here," he said desperately. "I should have stayed. I should have—"

"Stop," she said, her voice trembling.

He froze, his hand hovering over hers.

"I don't want to hear it," she whispered.

Her words cut deeper than anything else, but he nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"I'll do whatever you need, Mausam," he said softly. "Just... please let me make this right. Please."

She didn't respond, her silent tears the only answer he got. And as he sat there, watching the woman he loved grieve the loss of their child, Armaan realized just how much he had broken her—and himself.

Update on - 26/12/24