39. Another Niharika

Niharika's fingers still lingered on the delicate chain of her mangalsutra, the weight of it feeling both grounding and oppressive at the same time. She could feel the warmth spreading through her chest, a familiar rush of emotions she had tried to suppress. Her heart raced, her breath shallow, as she thought back to the moment Shivaay had placed the sacred symbol around her neck. It had been overwhelming then—his hands steady, his gaze intense, and yet the emotions she had felt in that instant were not simple ones. She had wanted to be close to him, to believe in the sincerity of his actions, to trust in the bond they were forging. But even now, the thought of wearing this symbol filled her with a mixture of joy and confusion.

But as she stood there, staring at the intricate design of the mangalsutra in her hands, the warmth of her emotions turned into something more sinister. The room around her seemed to grow colder, and for a moment, everything felt out of place.

Suddenly, as if summoned by the chaotic mess of thoughts in her mind, the image of herself—dressed in the saree she had worn that fateful day when Shivaay had accused her—appeared before her in the mirror. She could barely recognize the woman in front of her, but the memories of the day came rushing back—the harsh words, the accusations, the betrayal.

Her reflection, her own face, but twisted with bitterness, stared back at her. The eyes that had once been full of hope and love now seemed to reflect something darker—something she didn’t recognize.

“Remember me, Niharika?” the version of herself in the mirror whispered, her voice soft, but it was filled with sharpness, with a cutting edge that made Niharika’s heart ache. “Or have you forgotten me? I am the Niharika from that day—the one who was torn apart, the one who you tried to bury deep inside.”

Niharika’s heart pounded in her chest as she watched the reflection, unable to look away. It was as though the woman in front of her was a version of herself she had tried to forget, a version of herself that represented all the pain, humiliation, and anguish she had suffered at the hands of the man she had once loved. The woman who had been broken, who had felt as if her very soul had been torn apart by the man who should have protected her.

The reflection stepped forward, and the taunting voice continued, now sharper, more insistent. "Don’t forget what he did to you. Don’t forget the way he crushed you without a second thought. Don’t fall for him again. You deserve better than this, Niharika. You deserve someone who will truly love you."

The words pierced through her, each one landing like a dagger in her heart. Her breath hitched, and she took an instinctive step back, almost as if trying to escape the reflection, trying to escape the pain it represented. But the image of herself didn’t fade. It stood there, unmoving, a constant reminder of everything that had happened.

"Don’t fall for the illusion," the voice in the mirror whispered once more. "You’re just a pawn in his game, Niharika. A tool to fix his broken image, nothing more."

Niharika’s hands trembled as she reached out to steady herself against the table. The room seemed to spin around her, her vision blurring with tears she hadn’t realized she had been holding back. Why was this happening? Why was this image of herself haunting her, reminding her of the very day she had wished to forget?

She closed her eyes, willing the image to go away, willing the pain to stop. But when she opened them again, the reflection was still there, staring back at her, its eyes unyielding and filled with judgment.

Her mind raced with questions. Could she trust Shivaay now? Could she trust him with her heart? Was it even worth it? Had she really been foolish enough to believe in the man who had once destroyed her without a second thought? She had been broken once, and the fear that it could happen again paralyzed her.

The voice in her head grew louder, drowning out her own thoughts. "You deserve better. Don’t be so naïve."

Her fingers brushed against the cold glass of the mirror as if trying to find some way to erase the reflection. She wanted to scream, to run away from the pain that these thoughts had caused her. But she couldn’t. Her reflection, her fears, her doubts—they were a part of her now. She couldn’t escape them.

The room felt cold, suffocating even, as if the walls were closing in on her. The weight of the mangalsutra on her neck felt heavier now. It was a symbol of everything she had hoped for and everything she had feared. It was supposed to represent love, but it felt like a burden, like a chain holding her down, reminding her of a future she wasn’t sure she wanted.

As her gaze lingered on her reflection, she realized that she had no clear answer to her questions. She didn’t know if she could trust Shivaay again, if their love could ever be the same after everything that had happened. But she also couldn’t shake the desire to believe in him. To believe that, maybe, just maybe, he had changed. That he wasn’t the man who had torn her apart before.

The reflection in the mirror seemed to laugh at her doubts, its cruel smile widening. "You’ll be broken again, Niharika. Just wait."

Her heart clenched at the thought. Was she really willing to take that risk? Could she really trust herself with him again?

The reflection’s voice faded into the background as Niharika slowly turned away from the mirror, her hands now tightly clutching the mangalsutra. Her chest was heavy with conflicting emotions, but in that moment, she made a decision. She couldn’t continue to let her past define her future. She had to find the strength to make her own choices, to choose what was best for her.

Her mind screamed for clarity, for reassurance, but deep down, she knew that it was up to her to decide what to do next. It was her life, her journey—and no one else could walk it for her.

Taking a deep breath, she wiped the tears from her eyes and placed the mangalsutra back in the jewelry box, carefully closing the lid. She had to focus on herself now. She had to find her own way.

Whatever happened next, she couldn’t let the past hold her hostage any longer.

Niharika shook her head, trying to clear the fog of confusion clouding her mind. "No, no, don't do this, Niharika," she muttered under her breath, her hands trembling as she gripped the edge of the table. The reflection of the past seemed to laugh at her from the depths of her memory, its taunting voice echoing in her ears. "This thing is a dump where you both will fall, but only you will be hurt."

Her heart squeezed painfully at the thought. Was it true? Was she setting herself up for heartbreak again? The last time she had allowed herself to hope, to love, it had all been shattered. Shivaay’s words, his accusations, everything he had thrown at her—it had all made her question her worth, made her question whether she was ever truly loved at all.

But then, a quiet part of her whispered, "He changed. Maybe he really did change."

Niharika squeezed her eyes shut, pushing the thought away. She couldn’t allow herself to be so naive again. Not after everything that had happened. The fear of falling into the same trap was overwhelming, and the warning that echoed in her mind was too strong to ignore.

"This is a dump. You will fall, and only you will be left broken."

She felt the weight of the mangalsutra in her hands again, and it seemed to grow heavier with every passing second. It was supposed to be a symbol of love, but to her now, it felt like a symbol of entrapment. A reminder of how love had once been twisted into something painful. Was she really ready to risk everything again, to expose herself to that kind of pain once more?

Her breath hitched in her throat as she looked down at the symbol of her marriage, a symbol of something that could have been beautiful, if only it hadn’t been shattered. She had been so hopeful once—believing in love, in their bond. But now, all she felt was a void, a deep fear that kept her from fully embracing what might still be there between them.

"Don't fall for him again, Niharika. Don’t let yourself be hurt again."

She slowly set the mangalsutra back in the box, closing it gently, but it felt as though she was closing the door to the life she had wanted with him. A life she had dreamed of. But now, it seemed too dangerous to walk that path again. Too painful.

She exhaled shakily, her hands curling into fists as she fought the tears that threatened to spill. She had to be strong. She had to stop thinking about him. She couldn’t let herself be weak. She had to remember the lesson she had learned—the hard lesson that love, especially the kind that had once broken her, wasn’t always worth the risk.

"Niharika," she whispered to herself, her voice trembling, "you deserve more than this. Don’t forget who you are. Don’t forget what you’ve been through. He might have changed, but you don’t have to forget who he was."

A silence settled over her as she stood there, staring at the closed box, her mind a whirlwind of emotions. The choice she had to make felt suffocating, but deep down, she knew that only time would tell whether or not she could truly forgive him, whether or not she could ever let go of the fear that clung to her heart.

But for now, all she could do was remind herself to stay strong. She had fought so hard to come this far, and she couldn’t let herself slip back into that place of uncertainty and hurt.

Niharika's phone buzzed again, and she hesitated for a moment before glancing at the screen. It was Shivaay. Her heart skipped a beat, but she quickly composed herself and answered.

"Hello?" Her voice was tentative, unsure of what to expect.

"Hey," Shivaay's voice came through, slightly uncertain. "I, uh... just wanted to check in. How are you?"

Niharika felt a strange mix of emotions stir inside her. His voice, familiar yet distant, caused her chest to tighten. She had been avoiding thinking about him, but hearing him now, so simply and kindly, made everything feel more complicated.

"I'm... fine," she replied, not knowing how else to respond. "Just... staying busy."

There was a long pause on the other end of the line, and she could hear him sigh quietly. "Niharika, I know things have been... difficult. And I understand if you don’t want to talk right now, but I just wanted you to know that... I’ve been thinking about you."

Niharika felt her heart beat faster, but she quickly shut down any thoughts that might start creeping in. She couldn’t let herself be swept up in this again. Not after everything that had happened.

"I don’t know what to say, Shivaay," she said softly, not wanting to sound too cold, but not wanting to sound too eager either. "I’m still figuring things out."

He was quiet for a moment before responding, his voice a little softer. "I understand. I just... I miss talking to you."

Niharika swallowed, her throat feeling tight. "I miss it too," she admitted before quickly adding, "but things are different now."

"Yeah," Shivaay said, sounding a little disappointed. "I get it. I just wanted to say... I’m here. If you ever need anything."

"Thanks," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "Take care of yourself, Shivaay."

There was a brief pause before he spoke again, as if unsure how to end the conversation. "You too, Niharika. Stay safe."

"Goodbye," Niharika said, cutting the call before the emotions could overwhelm her.

She placed her phone down on the table and let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. Her heart was racing, but she couldn't let herself think too much about it. It was just a call, nothing more. Yet the words still echoed in her mind: I miss talking to you.