Key To Their Hearts

56- Flat Number Sixteen

Typed On – 15/12/2019

Chapter 56- Flat Number Sixteen

It was an hour later that her phone's light shone into the dark bedroom, indicating it's fully charged. Siya waited until it's full so she could talk to her brother for hours without having to worry about her phone dying. Rushing to the phone, she snatches it out of the plug and calls her brother's number.

It rings to it's full extend but he doesn't pick up. "Pick up. Pick up. Pick up." She anxiously cries, harshly punches the call button again. Making herself believe he doesn't want to speak to her she decides on texting him;

Please pick my phone. I need to speak to you. Please, it's urgent. I need to talk to you. Please Bhaiya. Sending the message she hugs her knees on the bed, wiping away her sticky tears. A couple of minutes later—when she imagined he's read her text—she tries again.

"Bhaiya," Siya cries when he picks up. "Bhaiya," he doesn't reply. "Please. I beg your forgiveness but just say something. Something. An-anything," She sobs.

"Why did you do that, Siya?" The broken throbbing voice comes.

She listens motionless. It wasn't her brother. It was perhaps the one person she hurt the most. No measurements could describe how bitterly broken the voice sounded and how awful she felt. "Raghav," she pleaded. Pleaded for him to stop. Stop opening old wounds.

"Why? Why? WHY?" He shouts so loudly that she flinches over the phone, her body shudders in ache. The ache in her heart not just her body.

"Raghav, please, list—"

"You're in no position to be heard, Siya. What? New York gave you wings? Maybe we should have chopped it off before you learnt how to fl—"

"Stop it!" She screams. He was pointing at her dignity. Nobody had the right to do that. Not when they knew nothing about her. "Talk to me. Me. Not my background or education."

"I told you're your baba to not allow you to go but he didn't listen. He set you free because of your brother. And now look, now look! Now look where we're standing. In the edge of the cliff." He loathes out all his hidden anger he kept from everyone for the past eight months.

"I di-di-didn't want it, Raghav. I didn't want us." She chokes out, biting her lips. But maybe I would be safer if I was home. As your wife. As your home. "I'm sorry for everything."

"Sorry doesn't change anything." He snaps. His anger is acceptable, which is why she's listening to it all, swallowing it all like bitter medicine. "It doesn't change how rejected and devastated I felt finding out my bride—who I imagined my future with—ran away." His voice lowers, it breaks and then it's angrier.

"But I didn't imagine my future with you. We are different." She weeps like salt was sprinkled on her raw wounds.

"I bet you though it was too uneducated for you." She cringes at the rough voice. Dread fills her stomach. "Found some much more educated and richer gu—"

"It's your thinking!" Siya screams, her throat scratchy and dry, it hurts to talk. "It's you downside thinking that I hate! Not your education. It's your opinions I hate. It's not you! It's you upbr—" she covers her mouth from crying out too loudly. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm just so fucken sorry. It's al—"

Unable to pick the correct word to describe how miserable she feels about her deed she hangs up and cries the whole night. Craving to go back in time and just get married to Raghav. Least her parent's would be happy. And her brother would be talking to her. And she wouldn't feel so unsafe.