21. Fever, care and mystery

Author's POV

Ishika lay on the bed, her skin clammy and pale, her forehead burning with fever. Every breath she took felt heavy, her strength sapped entirely. The distant sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the grand corridors of the mansion, growing louder until the butler appeared at her door, a calm yet urgent expression on his face. Behind him was the doctor, his medical bag in hand.

The doctor approached her with measured steps, his face a mask of professionalism. He checked her pulse, shining a small light in her weary eyes before murmuring a diagnosis to the butler. "The fever is high, but manageable. She needs rest and these medicines. Ensure she doesn't exert herself."

The butler nodded, his face betraying a flicker of concern as he escorted the doctor out. Moments later, he returned, a tray in hand carrying the prescribed medicines and a glass of water. He placed it gently on her bedside table and waited for Ishika to sit up.

"Here you go, madam," he said, his voice steady. "This will bring your temperature down."

Ishika took the pills with trembling fingers, managing a faint, grateful smile. "Thank you..."

With that, he bowed slightly and left the room, leaving Ishika to drift into a deep, dreamless sleep.

****

When she woke, the room was bathed in a warm, golden glow. The soft hues of the setting sun filtered through the curtains, casting elongated shadows that danced lazily across the walls. The air felt cooler now, no longer suffused with the oppressive heat that had clung to her skin. Beads of sweat had dried on her brow, leaving behind a sense of relief. Her fever had reduced but a slight flush colored her cheeks, and her skin felt sensitive to the cool air brushing against it.

Her head pulsed with a dull ache, and a subtle fatigue weighed down her limbs, making each movement feel heavier than it should. Even breathing felt deliberate, as though her body was reminding her to take things slow. Still, she pushed forward, driven by the soft gnawing of hunger and the comforting thought of something warm to eat.

As she entered the kitchen, the scent of freshly sliced vegetables filled the air, mingling with the faint aroma of herbs from the nearby windowsill. The butler stood at the counter, meticulously arranging a tray of vegetables and salads-deep glistening under the soft kitchen light. His movements were precise, almost ritualistic, as though each piece had its rightful place. The faint clink of a knife against the cutting board was the only sound in the otherwise hushed space.

Her voice broke the quiet, soft but clear. "Could you prepare something light for me? Maybe some veggie soup ?" There was a pause, and then she added, with a gentle sincerity, "And... thank you for calling the doctor."

The butler stilled, his hand resting lightly on the knife. He turned to face her, his expression composed as always, but there was something in his gaze-an undercurrent of concern, perhaps, or something more difficult to place. His voice, when he spoke, was measured and calm, carrying a quiet strength. "Madam, there's no need for gratitude. Your well-being is my priority."

She blinked, caught off guard by the firmness in his tone. There was no trace of formality, no practiced politeness. Instead, his words felt genuine, almost protective. A flicker of surprise and curiosity crossed her face, but she quickly masked it with a polite smile.

"Thank you," she murmured, her voice softer now, and turned to leave.

As she made her way back through the quiet halls. The evening light had dimmed further, casting the corridor in shades of amber and shadow. Her footsteps echoed faintly against the polished floors, rhythmic but slightly uneven. She could feel the lingering weakness in her body, with each step requiring more effort than usual.

Gathering her strength, she continued toward the bedroom.

As she reached the door, she exhaled slowly, the weight of the day pressing gently against her shoulders.

After settling on the sofa, Ishika noticed a missed call from Aditi. She dialed back, and the phone barely rang twice before Aditi picked up.

"Ishika! Finally! I've been so worried," Aditi's voice was anxious, a mix of relief and concern. "How are you feeling now? Did the fever break?"

Ishika exhaled softly, leaning back into the cushions. "Yeah, the fever's gone. I'm better now, but... still feeling weak. And a little chilled," she admitted, her voice faint and tired.

Aditi's concern deepened. "You need to rest properly. Are you eating? Taking your medicine?"

"I'm trying," Ishika replied, a small smile tugging at her lips despite her exhaustion. "The butler brought soup. I'll have that soon."

"Good. Don't skip anything, okay? I need you back to full strength, or who else am I going to gossip with?" Aditi's attempt at humor was light, but the worry lingered beneath it.

Ishika chuckled softly, the sound weak but genuine. "I promise. Thanks, Aditi. I'll call you tomorrow."

"You better. And if you need anything, anything, you call me. Got it?"

"I got it."

"Take care of yourself, Ishi."

"I will. Good Night, Adi."

"Good Night."

As she ended the call, a knock at the door drew her attention. The butler entered quietly, carrying a tray with a steaming bowl of soup. He set it down on the table with careful precision. "Madam, do you need anything else?"

Ishika shook her head gently. "No, thank you. This is enough."

He nodded, placing her medicine and a glass of warm water beside the tray. "Your medicine is here, and the water is warm. Please let me know if you need anything during the night."

"Thank you," she said softly, watching as he gave a respectful bow and left the room.

****

At 10 pm,

Sahil returned home late in the evening, exhaustion etched on his face after a long day at the office. As he stepped into the quiet mansion, the butler approached him with his usual composed demeanor.

"Good evening, sir. Shall I serve dinner for you?" the butler asked, his voice steady and polite.

"Yes," Sahil replied curtly, shrugging off his coat. But as the butler turned to leave, Sahil paused, hesitating for a moment before asking, "Did Ishika eat ?"

The butler's lips curved into a faint, knowing smile. "Yes, sir. Madam had her dinner and took her medicines as well. She seemed to be feeling better."

Sahil nodded again, his face unreadable and Without another word, he climbed the grand staircase to the bedroom.

The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a bedside lamp casting shadows across the walls. His gaze immediately fell on Ishika, curled up on the foldable sofa by the window, her figure barely discernible under the blanket she had wrapped tightly around herself. She lay there, her breathing soft and steady, her hair falling messily across her face.

Sahil stood there for a moment, unmoving, his eyes fixed on her. Something about the sight tugged at him-a mix of frustration and an emotion he refused to name. Slowly, he walked over, kneeling by her side. He placed the back of his hand against her forehead, his touch careful, almost hesitant.

The fever had subsided, and her skin felt cooler now. Relief washed over him, but it was quickly replaced by exasperation as he looked at her more closely. Her face was pale, her delicate features appearing almost fragile, and yet there was a stubbornness in her posture, even in her sleep.

But as he stood and glanced at the massive, unoccupied bed just a few steps away, his brow furrowed, he muttered under his breath, "Even when she's sick, her stubbornness knows no bounds. Who in their right mind chooses that sofa over a king-sized bed?"

His voice was low, tinged with frustration, Shaking his head, he let out a small sigh, his expression caught somewhere between annoyance and resignation. He turned away and headed to the washroom, already loosening his tie.

As he closed the door behind him, the sound of water running filled the room, but Sahil's thoughts remained on the woman sleeping in the room.

Next Day,

Ishika stirred awake, her body feeling lighter than it had the day before.The fever had broken, leaving behind a strange sense of clarity. She stretched, her muscles easing as she let out a soft sigh. The first thing her bleary eyes noticed was the pale light streaming in through the curtains. Sitting up slowly, her eyes darted to the clock on the nightstand. 6:00 a.m. Relief washed over her-she had enough time to prepare for school.

Reaching for her phone, Ishika froze. She wasn't on the couch where she had fallen asleep last night. Instead, she was lying in bed. Confusion clouded her mind. She distinctly remembered dozing off on the couch. How did I end up here?

Her eyes drifted down, noticing the thick blanket draped over her, tucked neatly as if someone had carefully placed it. A chill ran through her. Slowly, she turned her gaze to the other side of the bed. It was empty. A wave of relief washed over her, and she quickly pushed herself upright.

Her thoughts spiraled. Did I unknowingly move in my sleep? Or worse, did he carry me here? The very idea made her stomach churn. She shot a wary glance back at the bed, its sheets too perfectly arranged for comfort.

Shaking off the unsettling feeling, Ishika stormed into the bathroom to freshen up, desperate to shake the lingering unease clinging to her.

She got ready for school and headed downstairs for breakfast. The butler greeted her politely, asking about her health. Ishika smiled warmly and replied, "I'm fine."

After finishing her meal, she grabbed her things and made her way to school. However, the question of how she had ended up on the bed still lingered at the back of her mind, though she was too afraid to seek the answer.

At Aditi's Apartment,

She was talking with Aditi about everything-the arguments, the heartbreak, and the pain. After hearing the whole story, Aditi cursed Sahil in every language she knew. She also asked her, "How could you love a man like him all these years? He doesn't deserve you at all!"

Ishika just gave her a simple answer. "Sometimes, when we are in love with someone, we put that person on a pedestal and overlook all their shortcomings. For us, that person is perfect. That's exactly what happened to me. I've liked him since my childhood.

"I first saw him at my parents' anniversary party," she began, her voice soft, almost wistful. "He looked so handsome that night, standing there well-dressed. He was only twelve at the time, but his effortless confidence captivated everyone in the room. His smile-charming, easy-made him the center of attention. It was impossible not to notice him. He wasn't just attractive, there was something about him that drew people in, like a magnet. The way he carried himself... it was as if he belonged in the spotlight."

She paused, her fingers absently tracing the edge of her glass. Her gaze became distant, and the memory seemed to hang in the air between them. "The second time I saw him was at his brother's birthday party. Everyone was having a good time, laughing, talking, but there he was... sitting alone on the staircase, away from the crowd. He wasn't engaging with anyone. He looked so out of place, so distant. He looked... sad. It was as if the weight of the world was pressing down on him, and for a moment, all I wanted to do was walk up to him, sit beside him, and make him feel better. But I couldn't gather the courage. I couldn't find the words."

Her eyes closed for a moment, as if trying to capture the feeling, but when she opened them again, there was a bitterness that crept into her voice. "Every time my eyes found him in a room, it was like I couldn't process anything else. The noise, the laughter-it all faded away. I was so drawn to him, like I had to know more, had to be near him. Back then, all I wanted was to be his friend. Just someone he could talk to, someone he could lean on. I never imagined it would turn into... this."

A hollow chuckle escaped her lips, and she shook her head, the sound laced with frustration. "But look at me now. I'm married to that same man-and I'm not happy. I should've known. I should've seen the signs, but I was too blinded by whatever it was that pulled me toward him. All I wanted was to be close to him, and now..." Her voice faltered, and she let out a shaky breath, trying to steady herself.

"I want to leave him behind in my life," she continued, her words coming faster now, like the floodgates had been opened. "But I can't. How could he do this to me? How could he play with my feelings like this? We were supposed to build a life together, but now, everything feels like a lie. Even after marrying me, he..." She paused, her chest tightening as the words choked her. "...he impregnated another woman. How could he do that? How could he betray me like this?"

Her eyes welled up, but she quickly blinked them away. Anger, hurt, and disbelief twisted in her expression as she leaned back, as though physically distancing herself from the emotions threatening to consume her.

"Now," she whispered, her voice thick with disgust, "the very sight of him disgusts me. I don't even know who he is anymore. He's nothing like the man I thought he was... nothing like the man I once wanted to be close to."

The silence that followed was heavy, the weight of her words lingering in the air.

Aditi didn't say anything. She knew Ishika didn't need advice or judgment-she just needed someone to listen to all the pain and grief she couldn't share with anyone else.

________________________________

End of the Chapter.

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