Indian terms:-

Nana:- Maternal grandfather

Nani:- Maternal grandmother

Mama/Mamu:- Mom's brother

Mami:- Mom's brother's wife

~IRAANYA KASHYAP~

We reach the hospital, sharp ceiling lights hurting my eyes, the cold walls haunting me with echoes from the past year. I clutch the sleeve of papa's jacket tightly as he speaks to the receptionist about nanu's details.

We take the elevator to the floor receptionist mentioned. Nani is sitting slumped in a chair, her disheveled clothes, eyes dried with tears. Papa stops in the middle and looks at me, his eyes softening.

"Will you be okay, Aanya? Tell me the truth? The slightest discomfort you feel, I'm dropping you home." He says, a finality in his words yet gentleness in his tone.

I know he thinks that I won't be able to tolerate if Nani snapped at him once again or the trauma hospitals caused on me last year. But if he is still here for her even after the hatred she gave to him, then why should I leave papa alone?

"How can I hold grudges when my hero is like this?" I whisper, looking up at him. "You are still here for her when she hates you, without a second thought. You are the kindest and I love you for this."

I kiss his hand, his eyes shine brightly after hearing my words. "And I am fine, papa. With you, I am always fine," I say out loud. He caresses my hair gently and we walk over to the chair where Nani is sitting.

Papa kneels in front of nani, carefully wiping her tears. She looks at him startled, shocked and displeased before her face hardens. Before she can say anything I step forward, my words tumbling out, "Are you okay nani? How's nanu?"

Her eyes sweep over me, she takes in my appearance and after a long pause she open her arms for me. I hesitate, remembering her sharp words about the incident that happened last year but papa gives me a small nod. I go to her and she pulls me into her chest, clutching me tightly in her embrace breaking into tears.

The doctor arrives shortly after, papa stands up immediately, questioning her about nanu's condition. Most of the conversation blurs past me except for words like transplant and expensive surgery which stumbles on me.

"Please, start the procedure. I'll pay whatever amount is required," Papa says quickly to the doctor.

Last year he was struggling financially. I remember Mumma and him arguing over money, over bills that were overdue, over salaries he have to give his employees yet. I used to hear them whispering late at night on calls voices strained, wondering if they would ever manage and make it. Sometimes Mumma would cry softly, and I'd sit in my room, listening, wishing I could make it all better.

And now it's different. A few months before Mumma died, Papa's Tech Company in US started doing really well. Not just okay, but really good. Enough that he said we could move there, that Mumma wouldn't have to keep practicing medicine in India, that I could go to a new school without them worrying about anything. She started smiling again, talking about all the things we could do, imagining a life that didn't have to be long distance.

And now... everything he promised is already happening. Nanu's surgery bills, my moving abroad, paid, everything handled and done. Just... just not the way we planned, mumma couldn't live to see the moment. Both of them struggled to have a peaceful life together but when time came destiny took that chance away from them.

"We need his wife's consent before we proceed," Doctor replies looking behind papa where we are sitting.

Nani stands up and looks lividily at my father, her voice like ice. "We don't need your money, my son will be here in a few hours. We will start after he arrives."

Papa's shoulders stiffen at her words yet he continues, "Ma... ma'am we don't have that kind of time, that's what doctor just said."

"That's true ma'am," the doctor adds carefully.

I throw myself against nani's legs hugging her, "Nani, please just say yes. We can't lose one more family member," I say, sobbing against her stomach, holding her tightly.

Nanu has been the best man since mumma left us apart from papa. He was kind when others weren't. He never blamed me for living. He never cursed papa for not being there on time. He never turned his grief into hate, neither did he turn his back on us.

I don't want him to leave me or nani. Whatever problems she has with papa is never the reason she deserves to lose her best friend.

She looks at me, her gaze softening and then nods at the doctor, "Please, start the procedure."

"We need to do some paperwork, if you will come this way," doctors replies.

Hour pass in a blur, the formalities have been done and doctors have shifted nanu to another room, papa said it was an operation theater. Papa told me nanu needs a few injections and hours of rests to heal properly to get fit again.

But I'm not the kid he thinks I'm.

I know better. I pretend to be uncomprehending and innocent to blend into the environment.

And I know hospitals don't ask for signatures unless something bad has happened or something bad can happen.

Papa brings a cup of tea and places it in my hands, I'm shocked he is giving me tea by himself. I lift the cup towards my mouth but papa clears his throat, when I look at him, he frowns at me, signalling towards tea and then nani.

Oohh! Now, I understand. I was so lost in the situation that for a moment I thought it was for me. I bring the cup to her. She takes it, too exhausted to protest further.

The silence doesn't last when the sound of hurried footsteps fills the corridor, mamu storming in, behind him mami holding her baby girl in arms and Vansh strolling behind, fear on his face.

Nani clutches mamu like a lifeline, her voice breaking while narrating the incident to him. They sit there discussing the matter for good minutes. In between the conversation, he nods at papa, his eyes flicker to me and soften.

Nani's sharp words pass towards papa, "Leave now. Krish is here."

I blink, confused by her orders.

"But... papa was here first, he helped with everything. Why don't you want him here too, Nani?"

Nani's lips press into thin line. "You'll understand when you are older, Aanya."

"I am old enough," I shout, stubbornly, my voice echoing the hospital walls. "If we all love nanu, why can't papa sit with you and others for him?"

"Because this man ruins everything. My daughter wouldn't have died if he hadn't dragged her into his mess," Nani spits angrily. "Mere beti ko barbaad kar diya iss aadmi ne."

(This man ruined my daughter's life.)

My throat tighten, a lump of panic forming.

"He loved her more than-"

Papa's quiet voice break in from the corner, almost tentative. He flinches, pain etched in every line of his face.

"Ma'am... I lost my wife too. You think I don't wake up every night regretting that I couldn't do more?" His voice cracks. "I can't bring her back. But don't... don't let her death turn me and my daughter into enemies tonight."

"Enemies?" Nani scoffed, her voice breaking with grief. "You were an orphan. You had nothing. You dragged her into your nothing, and she... Khud anath tha, aur mere ghar ko bhi anath bana diya!"

(You're an orphan, and turned my home into one too!)

That word, anath, strike like a slap. I stand up, fists clenching, tears blurring my vision.

"Stop saying that! Stop calling him that like it's some curse! I lost my mother too... so am I anath as well?

Nani looked away, voice cold, almost trembling. "He passed on his curse to you."

I step towards nani when papa holds me by the arm. Pin drop silence falls in the hallway, not even a faraway beep of heart monitors or thunderstorm can be heard. Blood rush in my ears and I couldn't hear what mamu mami are saying to nani. My breaths comes out shallow, heart hammering like someone's punching my ribs.

Papa rubs my back before ushering me behind him, his gaze never wavering from nani once. He looks at her dead in the eyes.

"Anath woh hote hai jiske paas koi ho ke bhi koi na ho. Aur meri beti ke paas main hoon."

(An orphan is someone who has people yet still has no one. And my daughter has me.)

"Tell your daughter how you failed your wife and everyone. Or should I-"

I press my back to the wall, clutching the edge of my sleeves to hide the tremors of my cold hands trembling.

"Maybe I failed her. But I never made her beg for acceptance in her own home. I never made her choose between you and me." He exhaled, the restraint trembling through his voice. "And I'll spend the rest of my life protecting the only piece of her that's left."

Papa squeezes my hand, pulls me close. "Enough, bacha. Now let's go."

"It is not enough. I want to tell you one more thing." I say.

He squats down, cupping my cheeks, wiping tears with pads of his fingers. "First breathe. Take a deep breath. We can discuss this at home."

His brows furrow worriedly. His arms find me, one on my shoulder, firm enough to steady. The other slips to the back of my head, guiding it gently against his chest.

I shake my head and continue. "Wh- when the accident happened, s-she pressured nanu to perform last rites before you could reach India." My words come between sobs and anger.

"If not nanu-" I look at my father's shocked face and continue "She would have burned her before you could see her face for the last time."

His thumb traces circles near my shoulder blade,

his breath grazes the top of my head when he exhales, slow and controlled, like he's fighting his own rage back down for my sake.

"Look at me," he whispers, tilting my chin up until I meet his eyes.

"Bas... shhh, meri jaan," he murmurs, his voice rough at the edges. "Main hoon yahan. Saans lo."

( I'm right here. Breathe.)

I try.

Once, twice, thrice and his heartbeat under my ear becomes a metronome that my lungs begin to follow. Warm, safe, achingly safe.

Nani stands up from her seat, coming near us. "Because your father didn't deserve to see her." Nani looks at me her face devoid of any softness. "Tell me girl, where was he when your mother was struggling in India with job and you?"

"He was struggling with his company as well in States." I shout, looking at her my anger reaching its limit. Papa tries to hush me silently but he knows better what happens when my mouth opens for good.

"But where were you Nani? Why didn't you help her if she was struggling. I remember nanu picking me up from classes with his fractured hand... why you never thought to help your daughter instead of blaming my father?"

"Because your mother chose-" she points angrily at papa. "-this orphan boy over me. See how you have become, just like him, orphan and mannerless."

Papa stands up abruptly, eyes cold, void of any emotion, dangerous calm oozing out of him. For a moment, the thunder outside paused, almost as if the world itself wanted to listen.

His voice harden, he let out deep exhale closer to a growl.

"Main chup tha... kyunki main aapka izzat karta tha. Lekin sammaan tab tak hota hai jab tak shabd insaniyat ke andar rehte hain."

( I stayed silent because I respected you. But respect only lasts while words stay within the bounds of humanity.)

He turns his head slightly looking at me, the edge of his jaw tightening.

"Let me remind you, she carries two names. Two legacies. Mine... and the one of my wife— her mother."

He pauses for a second. The thunder roared again, as if applauding him for standing up for himself for the first time.

His eyes are glassy, rimmed red, but his voice stays unshakable.

There's fury burning behind him, but all of it shields me, not scorches me.

"You mistake my silence for weakness. Lekin agar ek baar meri beti pe ungli uthai... toh main woh khamoshi bhi cheen loonga jisme aapne apne paap chhupaye hain."

(But if you ever point a finger at my daughter again, I'll strip even the silence you hide your sins behind.)

The storm outside mirrored the storm inside her, fury, grief, and pride all tangled together.

Her voice cracks, then harden, eyes, red and blazing, fixed on him."You don't scare me, Shaurya. Remember this, you may protect her today, you may silence me with that cold pride of yours, but time has a way of tipping scales. And the scales, they will not always favor the loudest voice."

His tone dropped, final, quiet enough to make the air tremble.

"Call her an orphan again, and I'll show you what true abandonment looks like. I'll erase every trace of everything you love so cleanly that history itself will forget that it existed. Don't make me burn my restraint next. I've buried love once. Don't force me to dig another grave."

"You- you..."

Papa lifts his finger, silencing nani, once again.

"Remember this, the next time you speak my daughter's name, you'll be doing it standing on the ashes of everything you've built And I will forget you're my love's mother."

"Let's leave, princess."

Papa leads me down the corridor, I look at Nani one last time while she's leaning into mami's shoulder.

"Did I say something wrong? Did I upset her?" I ask papa, my voice small. He brings his arm towards me, his arm clutching my shoulder protectively.

"No, bacha. You didn't do anything wrong. It's me. I have upsetted everyone, everytime for the reasons you are too young to carry. To them... I'll always be the villian who arrives when it's already too late."

"But even I would also choose you if it was between nani and you."

He glances at me briefly, then looks away. His thumb strokes the back of my hand. Then softer almost swallowed words whisper in the air, the doors shutting behind us, "All that matters is you. Even in a house that no longer wants me, if I still walk out holding the only hand that matters- of my daughter is enough for me."

Hope you guys liked the chapter.

Happy reading<3