34. Panic Attack

Author's POV

Yash and Ishika had helped Aditi move into her new apartment earlier that day. Now, as the evening settled, Ishika decided to stay the night to keep Aditi company. The two friends were engaged in lighthearted conversation, reminiscing about their college days. Aditi was in the kitchen washing utensils, while Ishika wiped down the dining table.

Their laughter echoed through the apartment as they recalled funny incidents from their past. Suddenly, Ishika began talking about her childhood, sharing snippets of her younger years.

Midway through, Aditi interrupted with a curious smile. "Hey, what do you think about Dhruv? That guy is really something."

Ishika froze for a moment before smiling wryly. "You figured it out?"

"Of course!" Aditi grinned. "And he's cute." She turned off the tap and dried her hands before adding, "You're divorced, Ishika. You deserve a second chance at love."

Ishika grabbed a bottle to fill it with water, avoiding Aditi's gaze. "I'm not interested," she said flatly.

Aditi stepped closer, leaning against the counter. "Come on, Sahil doesn't love you. You know that. It's better if you think about someone else."

Letting out a deep sigh, Ishika put the bottle aside. "See, I'm not interested in any romantic relationship. Not with Dhruv. Not with anyone. Right now, I just want to focus on my career." She said while walking toward the bedroom, leaving Aditi to follow.

Once in the room, Ishika picked up a bottle of lotion and began applying it to her hands. Aditi sat on the bed, watching her friend thoughtfully. "Hey," she started, her tone soft but insistent. "If it's not Dhruv, what about someone else? Could they replace Sahil in your life?"

Distracted, Ishika replied absentmindedly, "Who?"

Aditi's eyes sparkled mischievously as she leaned forward.

"Yuvraj Singh Chauhan."

Ishika's heart skipped a beat, and she glanced at Aditi. Aditi grinned as if it were a casual comment. " I wonder how he's doing now."

Ishika didn't say anything. Aditi gave her a sly smile, and took the lotion from the vanity.

Ishika went to bed and slid inside the comforter. She let out a deep sigh. Yuvraj Singh Chauhan. She hadn't heard that name in a long time. She could only pray for his safety every year on her birthday. Her bank transfers to him had stopped for a few months now, not that he had accepted them in the years before.

Next Day,

Ishika received a call from her uncle, Arjun Singh, stating that he needed to talk to her about something important regarding her brother. Concerned, she immediately went to meet him. As she entered the house, a sense of unease washed over her. She couldn't shake the feeling that whatever Arjun wanted to discuss wouldn't be good.

The butler greeted her at the door, bowing slightly. "Sir is waiting for you upstairs in his study room," he informed her.

Ishika nodded, thanked him softly, and ascended the staircase. Her heart pounded as she approached the study. When she opened the door, she found her uncle standing near the window, his back to her. The room was dimly lit, the shadows of the evening casting long shapes across the walls.

"Uncle-" she began, but before she could finish her sentence, Arjun turned abruptly and slapped her across the face.

The force of the blow sent her stumbling backward, and she leaned against the wall for support. Her cheek stung, but it was the emotional blow that hurt more. She looked up and caught sight of the photographs of her parents during their younger days, hanging on the wall. Her heart raced, her long-standing fear of her uncle reaching its peak.

But this time, something changed within her. Ishika clenched her teeth, her fear giving way to a newfound resolve. She couldn't back down now. She steadied herself, using the wall for support, and stood up straight.

"Uncle, why are you doing this?" she asked, her voice trembling but firm.

Arjun didn't respond. Instead, he raised his hand to strike her again. But this time, Ishika caught his wrist mid-air. Her grip was firm, her eyes blazing with defiance.

"Uncle, don't you dare," she said through gritted teeth. "I'm not the same Ishika anymore, the one who wouldn't fight back."

She pushed his hand away, her stance unwavering. Arjun stared at her, momentarily taken aback, before snorting in disdain. He turned and walked toward his desk, his movements slow and deliberate.

"You've got quite the audacity," he said, his voice cold.

Ishika crossed her arms, her voice steady. "If this is about the deal you had with Sahil, let me remind you-you were the one who pressured me to talk to him. You insisted on that deal. So don't blame me for your own decisions."

Arjun chuckled darkly, shaking his head. "It seems you've grown wings after all," he said, a cruel smirk playing on his lips.

Without another word, he pressed a button on the intercom. Moments later, his assistant entered the room.

"Lock her up in the storeroom," Arjun ordered coldly. "She can stay there until she figures out what she's done wrong. And if she can't think of anything, perhaps she should think about her brother."

Ishika's eyes widened in alarm. "Uncle, you can't-" she started, but before she could finish, she darted toward the door in an attempt to escape. The assistant, however, was quicker. He blocked her path and, despite her struggles, managed to drag her to the storeroom.

The heavy door slammed shut behind her, the sound reverberating through the small, dimly lit storeroom. The lock clicked into place, sealing her inside. Ishika pounded on the door, her breaths coming fast and uneven. She leaned against the cold wall, her chest heaving as panic began to set in.

The air felt thick and oppressive, pressing down on her like an invisible weight. Her heart pounded erratically, each beat echoing in her ears. Her breaths grew shallow and rapid, and her fists clenched tightly as her mind raced, desperately searching for a way out.

Memories from her childhood began flooding back-her uncle's harsh words, his cold glares, and the constant fear that had shadowed her every move. She had always tried to suppress those moments, burying them deep within herself. But now, locked away and helpless, the memories surged forward with a vengeance.

Her vision blurred, the walls of the storeroom seeming to close in on her. Her hands trembled uncontrollably as her knees buckled. She slid down to the floor, clutching her chest as her breathing grew ragged.

"No... not now... not again," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

The room spun around her, and the pounding in her ears drowned out every other sound. Tears streamed down her face as she fought against the overwhelming tide of fear and despair. Her childhood trauma had returned with full force, dragging her into its suffocating depths.

Her body felt heavy, her mind a chaotic whirlwind of pain and helplessness. She gasped for air, her vision darkening at the edges. The panic attack tightened its grip, and she felt herself slipping away.

With one final, desperate breath, Ishika lost consciousness, collapsing onto the cold, unforgiving floor of the storeroom.

***

As soon as Ishika collapsed, Sahil arrived and froze at the sight of her lifeless body sprawled on the cold floor. A wave of fear surged through him, tightening his chest. Kneeling beside her, he called her name, his voice filled with urgency. When she didn't respond, he grabbed her hands and rubbed them desperately.

Seeing no signs of movement, panic gripped him. Without wasting another moment, he carefully gathered her in his arms and carried her out to his car. Gently placing her in the backseat, he grabbed a bottle of water and sprinkled some on her face, softly calling her name.

After a few tense moments, Ishika stirred. Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked around in confusion before her gaze settled on Sahil. She seemed startled to see him.

Relief washed over Sahil as he exhaled deeply. "Thank God," he muttered under his breath. Turning to Yash, he ordered, "Drive to the hospital now!"

But Ishika weakly protested, her voice trembling. "No... no... I don't want to go to the hospital."

Sahil furrowed his brows, his expression darkening. "Do you have a death wish or something?" he snapped, his voice sharp with concern.

Just as the words left his mouth, Ishika clung to him tightly, her voice breaking as she pleaded, "Cold water... please, just give me cold water."

Sahil stared at her for a long moment, his jaw tightening. He could see the exhaustion in her eyes, but her determination was evident. Finally, he sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"Fine," he relented, turning to Yash. "Take us to the mansion-quickly!"

Yash drove recklessly, reaching the mansion in just ten minutes. Sahil carried Ishika upstairs, his heart pounding as he noticed her drenched in sweat, her hair sticking to her pale face. She appeared utterly lifeless, and doubt crept into his mind. Would cold water really save her?

He hurried into the bathroom, his heart racing. A familiar fear clawed at him, a fear he hadn't felt in years. He was drenched in sweat himself.

The bathroom was spacious, with a large bathtub that could easily fit several people. He quickly placed Ishika inside and activated the largest showerhead, which poured water over her like a torrential rainstorm.

Ishika lay shivering on the cold tiles, her body trembling momentarily before becoming still. Curling up, she murmured a single word, "Go out..."

Sahil's frustration flared. She looked ghostly, as if life had already left her. Did she really want to be left alone in this state? Did she want to die?

Before he could argue, she pleaded again, her voice trembling, "Please..."

His brows furrowed, but he relented, wiping water off his face. "Fine. I'll give you five minutes. After that, I'm coming in."

He opened the drain to ensure she wouldn't drown and stepped outside. Removing his soaked coat, he paced the room, his discomfort and worry growing.

One minute... two minutes... five minutes. As the seconds ticked by, unease clawed at his heart. The memory of her lifeless form on the floor earlier gnawed at him. Unable to bear it any longer, he returned to the bathroom.

His heart skipped a beat as he approached. The bathtub was half-filled with water, tinged red with blood. Ishika lay submerged. Almost instinctively, Sahil climbed into the tub, his panic mounting.

"Ishika!" he shouted, pulling her out of the water. Before he could say more, her eyes fluttered open, and she looked at him, dazed.

"What are you doing?!" he demanded, his voice a mix of anger and fear.

Ishika's body was freezing, her mind foggy. She didn't even remember what she had used to cut her arm, but the sharp pain had jolted her awake. Strangely, it felt liberating.

As Sahil held her, she felt his warmth and heard his heartbeat. For the first time in what felt like forever, she felt alive. Her cold hands reached up, touching his face as if trying to absorb his warmth. She shivered violently, her breaths coming in short, frantic gasps.

Sahil froze, the scene too shocking for words. After a moment, he said firmly, "I'm taking you out of here, and we're calling a doctor."

"No... no, please don't..." Ishika murmured weakly, repeating the words like a broken record. But Sahil didn't listen. He carried her out of the bathroom, both of them drenched and shivering. Their soaked clothes clung heavily to their bodies, but Ishika clung even tighter to him, desperately seeking his warmth.

When they reached the edge of the bed, Sahil tried to place her down, but she refused to let go. They tumbled onto the bed together, her grip unrelenting.

"Ishika, let go," he pleaded. He wanted to change her clothes, worried she might catch a fever. But she clung to him like a lifeline.

Frustrated, he began prying her fingers off one by one. Each time he freed one hand, the other would latch onto him again. Finally, he pinned her wrists above her head. His eyes fell on the bleeding wound on her arm, and his pupils constricted.

"Don't move!"

Ishika blinked up at him, a tear slipping down her cheek. When he saw her tears his grip loosened on her wrists unconsciously. Her vision blurred as she felt herself slipping further into an icy abyss. She couldn't tell if she was trapped in darkness or still tethered to the human world.

The room was steeped in silence, broken only by the soft, shallow breaths of Ishika. Sahil tried to move, but her fragile hands clung to him, refusing to let go. His chest tightened as he looked down at her, her vulnerability striking a chord deep within him. Without hesitation, he pulled her closer, wrapping her securely in his arms as if shielding her from the world.

After a moment, he gently helped her to her feet. Spotting a nearby blanket, he grabbed it and wrapped it around her trembling frame, ensuring she was warm. Just as he was about to speak, a soft knock echoed through the room.

"Come in," Sahil called out, his voice steady yet firm.

The door opened, and the doctor entered, followed by a few concerned faces. Sahil knew that Yash had called the doctor. Ishika's condition required medical attention, especially for the wound on her arm.

Ishika stiffened at the sight of so many people, her body trembling as she instinctively clung to Sahil for protection.

Sahil immediately tightened his embrace, lowering his head to whisper softly, "It's okay. I'm here. No one will hurt you."

She pressed herself further into him, her face buried in his chest. Sahil raised a protective hand to shield her eyes from the others, his tone sharp as he addressed the doctor. "Be gentle with her."

The doctor nodded, his movements careful and deliberate. As he approached, Ishika began to shrink away, her voice trembling with fear. "I don't want to see the doctor... I won't... I won't!" Her repeated protests startled even the doctor, her panic palpable in the room.

Sahil remained composed, his voice a soothing balm against her rising anxiety. "Ishika," he murmured, his hand gently stroking her back, "the doctor is only here to check your wound. He'll be quick, I promise. Please... trust me."

Hearing the familiar voice, Ishika hesitated. Slowly, she nestled deeper into his arms, her trembling subsiding ever so slightly. Sahil held her firmly, his steady presence grounding her. He then pulled her arm away to allow the doctor to quickly bandage it.

The room fell silent again, save for the faint, careful movements of the doctor as he cleaned and dressed her wound. Sahil never once let go, his gaze fixed on Ishika, silently willing her to stay calm.

Minutes later, the doctor finished, stepping back with a quiet nod. But Ishika remained motionless, her body limp in Sahil's arms. A sudden wave of panic surged through him as he noticed her pale face and closed eyes.

"Ishika?" he called softly, his voice trembling. When she didn't respond, his heart raced. "Doctor!"

The doctor quickly stepped forward, checking her pulse and vitals. After a moment, he gestured toward the living room. "Let's talk outside," he said in a low voice.

Sahil's brows furrowed, his expression darkening with worry. Reluctantly, he nodded and watched as the doctor and Yash left the room.

Turning his attention back to Ishika, Sahil's heart ached at the sight of her fragile form. The room was a mess-wet blankets and sheets were strewn everywhere, the aftermath of their earlier chaos. She lay curled up, her body still and pale, her damp clothes clinging to her.

"She's going to catch a fever like this," he muttered to himself, urgency driving his actions.

Carefully, he removed her wet clothes, averting his gaze out of respect. He wrapped her in a warm, dry blanket, ensuring she was snug and protected.

Sitting beside her, Sahil reached for the hair dryer from the nearby table. He plugged it in and switched it on, the soft hum filling the room. Carefully, he ran his fingers through her damp hair, guiding the warm air over the strands with tender precision.

As he worked, his movements slowed. The image of her trembling in his arms and her broken whispers echoed in his mind, haunting him. A deep pang of guilt settled in his chest.

The warmth from the dryer seemed to bring a faint color back to her pale cheeks, but it did little to ease the storm brewing in Sahil's heart. Sahil gently brushed a damp strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering on her cheek. His gaze fell on the faint redness marring her delicate skin-a clear mark of a slap. A surge of anger ignited within him, his jaw tightening as he fought to suppress the fury bubbling inside.

He exhaled slowly, forcing himself to focus on the present. Leaning closer, his voice softened, thick with emotion. "You're safe now," he whispered, his eyes never leaving her face. "I won't let anything happen to you, Ishika. Not anymore."

His words were both a promise and a silent vow to protect her from whoever had hurt her.

He continued drying her hair until it was soft and dry, his hands never faltering in their careful touch. Once finished, he placed the dryer aside and pulled the blanket tighter around her.

***

Sahil, still in his soaked clothes, sat on the sofa, his eyes fixed on the door of the room where Ishika was sleeping. His voice was low and heavy with concern as he asked, "How is she?"

The doctor adjusted his bag and replied, "The wound on her arm isn't severe. With regular dressing changes, it should heal quickly. However..." He hesitated, his tone growing more serious. "For her mental state, it's best to have a specialist evaluate her. I can't say for certain, but she may need professional help to recover fully."

Sahil's jaw tightened as he absorbed the doctor's words. His gaze flickered back to the closed door, a mix of worry and determination etched across his face. "I'll take care of her," he said firmly, his voice resolute.

________________________________

End of the Chapter.

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