IPK 2 - It Happened This Way ... part 7 pg 18

OS ... Waking Up

She heard the voices as though through a thick fog. Multiple voices, scrambling, jostling, pushing for space, fighting with each other ...

'She's hurt ... she's bleeding ...'

'Careful ... hold her carefully ...'

'Is she breathing ...?'

'Khushi ... Khushi!!! Wake up!!! Open your eyes ... look at me ... '

'Khushi, can you hear me?'

She was tired, and in pain ... she ached all over, all she wanted to do was to sleep. Why wouldn't they all keep quiet? Why didn't they go away and leave her in peace? She didn't want to wake up ... if she woke up, it hurt ... her arm, her chest, her ribs ... it hurt to move ...

'Khushi, open your eyes ... please ... just once ...'

'Shhh ... shhh ... she moved ...'

'Khushi, can you hear me? Move your hand if you can, move your fingers ...'

'Does it hurt?'

And a deeper, baritone voice, a note of unbearable anguish in it ...

'Khushi ... look at me ... Khushi, please ... just once, open your eyes ''

That voice called to her, she had to obey ... not the command, but the anguish it held. She opened her eyes briefly and moaned in protest as the bright light hit her painfully. She clenched them shut again and moved her left hand and moaned again as shards of unbearable pain shot through her left arm and hand, through her entire left side, leaving her breathless with the pain.

And heard the voices change to celebration.

'She's awake! She moved!'

'She's conscious! Doctor ... Doctor!!!'

A firm voice, with a note of authority ...

'Back off, please, give her some space, don't crowd her.'

Someone shone a light into her eyes, and she moaned again.

'Move your hand, Mrs Raizada? Can you hear me? Move your right hand?'

She obeyed feebly, closing her eyes again. Loud murmurs again ...

'She moved. She did move. Is she awake? Is she conscious?'

'Doctor, will she be all right now?'

The same baritone, pleading now ... 'Doctor, she will be all right now, won't she?'

'Yes, she will. Let her rest now. One family member can stay with her, no more. The rest of you, please go home.'

'I'll stay. You all go home. NK, send me a change of clothes.'

'Arnav bitwa ... you're tired, you're unwell, you've been locked up for days ... you go home and rest. I will stay with Phati sa ... Khushi.''

'Mamiji, please, don't argue ... I will stay. Don't tell Di ... make some excuse. We will have to figure out how to tell her.'

He was staying with her. The man with the baritone voice. She slept.

Index:

Parts II and III - below.

Part 4 - page 4 https://www.indiaforums.com/forum/fan-fictions/3524266/ipk-2-it-happened-this-way-part-7-pg-18?pn=4

Part 5 - page 7 https://www.indiaforums.com/forum/fan-fictions/3524266/ipk-2-it-happened-this-way-part-7-pg-18?pn=7 - The Whole Story

Part 6 - page 11 https://www.indiaforums.com/forum/fan-fictions/3524266/ipk-2-it-happened-this-way-part-7-pg-18?pn=11 - Arnav Khushi Talk

Part 7 - page 18 Loving and Leaving https://www.indiaforums.com/forum/fan-fictions/3524266/ipk-2-it-happened-this-way-part-7-pg-18

She woke to the feeling of warmth, comfort. Her left side was still sore and aching unbearably, and it hurt to move. But her right hand felt warm. Safe.

She moved the fingers of her right hand slightly, experimentally. She couldn't move them much. But not because it hurt. On the contrary. They were held fast, clasped in a firm grip in a hand larger than her own. That was what gave her that safe feeling, she realized slowly, fuzzily.

She managed to crack an eyelid open, although her brain shrieked in protest. The room was dim, the lights low, so the light didn't hurt so much this time, and she could take a quick look at her surroundings. She was lying in a strange bed, not her own. She wasn't in her own room either. Neither her room at Gupta house, nor the one at Shantivan. Then where was she?

She moved her head to one side. Her left side was covered in white. Bandages. They covered the upper half of her left arm and formed a thick shield over her chest and shoulder.

A shield. Funny she thought of that word. As though she needed protection.

The bandages were thick and soft. But it still hurt to move her arm, and after a painful half-hearted attempt, she gave up.

Her other hand felt all right. More than all right. She wiggled the fingers experimentally again, and immediately felt the clasp on them tighten. She heard a chair squeak, move forward.

'Khushi?'

It was the baritone voice again. She half-smiled and managed to turn her head to see his face. It was half-hidden, shadowed, in the dim light, but she could see haggard lines through the thick stubble. He hadn't shaved for a few days, she thought irrelevantly. It didn't suit him. And his hair was all disheveled. He didn't look like her smart suave sophisticated tycoon husband at all, more like a weather-roughened stranger.

'Arnavji?'

She felt, rather than heard his deep sigh. It seemed to be torn out from the depths of his body.

'Khushi? Are you awake? Are you feeling better? Let me call the doc- ...'

He got up swiftly and released her hand. She felt sudden, absurd panic cloud her chest, almost choking her.

'No! Don't go!'

He came back and bent over her, and she saw his face more clearly. The deep chocolate brown eyes bored into hers, shining with some strong emotion ... and with ... tears?

Nonsense. Arnavji never cried. Except when it was for his Di.

'I'm not going anywhere, Khushi. I'm right here. I'll just call the doctor and be back ...'

'No!' she said again, more strongly this time, and fumbled for his hand with her working right one. Why was it so important that he not go? She grabbed it and looked up at him pleadingly.

'No. please don't go. Don't leave me. Give me one chance. Just one last chance. I'll show you that I didn't ... I wasn't ...'

He drew in a sharp breath.

'Khushi?'

She clutched his hand tighter, and he tried to detach it very gently. His tone, when he spoke, was soft, unbearably gentle.

'Khushi, relax. Everything is all right. You don't have to show me anything, prove anything. It's okay. I'm not going anywhere. I just need to call the doctor to see that you're all right ...'

'Please. I'm all right. Hum theek hain. I don't need the doctor. Don't go to London, please, Arnavji.'

He sat down by the bedside and held her hand tightly. One hand dashed across his eyes quickly, and then came back to hold hers. And when he spoke, she thought his voice sounded thicker than usual, as though he was choking on something in his throat.

'I'm not going to London, Khushi. I never went. I ...'

'You never went?' she asked softly, and a small smile curved her cracked dry lips. 'You listened to me? You came back? Thank you, Arnavji ...'

She saw him swallow.

'Yes, Khushi,' he said softly. 'I came back. You brought me back, Khushi.'

OS – Part III

'Amnesia?! What do you mean, amnesia?! Khushi doesn't have amnesia, doctor. She recognized me, she knew my name, knew I'm her husband. She knew about my … London trip … she asked about Di, Payal, Mami … everyone. Her memory is perfectly all right.'

"I didn't say amnesia, Mr. Raizada. I said post traumatic memory loss. Short term. It happens very often after trauma especially to the head. The patient forgets the incidents leading up to the accident. Usually they just forget the last few minutes, but your wife seems to have forgotten about a week or so. Also, usually they recover slowly if that is the case. She will probably remember most of the week little by little, but might not remember the events immediately preceding the incident."

"The shooting, you mean," said Arnav through gritted teeth. "Stop calling it an incident, dammit! It was a murderous attack, and that man is not going to get away with it! Even if she doesn't remember enough to testify!"

The doctor remained silent. Mr Arnav Singh Raizada was a dangerous man, and in a foul mood, even more so.

Arnav looked at him again.

'The bullet hit her arm. How did she lose her memory then? You said it happens with trauma to the head. She never got hit on the head, did she?'

The doctor shook his head.

'She did when she fell. And she fell on an old bruise, a tender spot. She must have gotten it in the last few days, it was a new injury. She fell on the exact same spot, so the impact was worse. She sustained a severe concussion from that.'

An injury she had sustained during the last few days. The one he had given her when he hit her to knock her out.

Arnav felt sick. Another thing to add to the long list of wrongs he had done her. Great. As though the list wasn't long enough already.

He looked at the doctor questioningly.

'You said most patients recover their memory slowly. So do you think she will remember what happened in the last week or ten days slowly?'

The doctor nodded cautiously, still wary of the other man's temper. 'Medical science is never exact, Mr. Raizada. I can't say it with certainty, I can only say that it's very likely, based on what I have seen happen with the majority of patients.'

Arnav stayed silent, contemplative. The doctor looked at him cautiously.

'In the meantime, it's important to take care of her, and look after her. The criminal process will take its own time, and she might recover by then. But there are other witnesses as well, you included, and your cousin. So it's not of critical importance that she remember everything. Your testimony will be enough to put the scoundrels behind bars.'

Not of critical importance that she remember everything, Arnav thought.

Memories flashed through his mind … Khushi in a white sari in a small abandoned hut, Khushi's face alight with joy over the light of three fireflies … Khushi in his arms … Khushi smiling through her tears when he blasted at her through the grill … her fingers clutching his through the grill, clutching desperately, as though scared to lose the physical contact for an instant … the way she had flown into his arms as though she belonged there … her silent sobs when he said those three words over the phone … sobs that he could sense even before he heard them …

What if she never remembered any of those things? What if she never remembered that he had ever said those words? Could he say them again? Could he drum up the courage again?

Arnav swallowed, the pain in the area of his heart a physical thing.

He nodded at the doctor, his face grim.

"Thank you, doctor. When can I take her home?'