ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀɪɴ

Kunal slowly sank to the floor beside the bed.

The room felt unbearably silent.

He pulled Ridhima’s lifeless body into his arms, holding her tightly against his chest as if letting go would make everything real.

His fingers trembled as they brushed against her hair.

For a long moment, he just sat there… staring blankly.

Then the memories began to flood in.

Uninvited.

Relentless.

He remembered the first time he met her.

It was at a charity event hosted by one of his business partners. Everyone around him had been busy discussing money, deals, and investments.

But Ridhima had been standing near the balcony, arguing with a waiter because he refused to give food to a group of street children outside the gate.

Kunal had watched her from a distance.

Her anger.

Her stubbornness.

The way she crossed her arms and said firmly,

"If the food is meant for charity, then charity shouldn’t stop at the gate."

That was the moment he noticed her.

Really noticed her.

Another memory followed.

The day it rained heavily and she forced him to step out of his car.

Kunal had been irritated.

"Ridhima, I have an important meeting."

But she had grabbed his hand and dragged him into the rain anyway, laughing loudly as water soaked through their clothes.

"Meetings happen every day, Mr. Businessman," she had teased.

"But dancing in the rain with your wife doesn’t."

For the first time in years, Kunal had laughed like a carefree man.

Another memory.

Their wedding night.

Ridhima had been sitting nervously on the bed, playing with the edge of her dupatta.

When Kunal entered the room, she had looked up at him and said with a shy smile,

"You look less scary without your business face."

He had chuckled and replied,

"And you look like someone who’s going to control my entire life."

She had grinned proudly.

"Exactly."

And then—

The last memory before everything changed.

Ridhima standing at the door that morning, waving at him as he left for work.

"Come home early today," she had said.

"I made your favorite dinner."

He had nodded distractedly while checking emails on his phone.

"Sure."

But he never made it home early that day.

That was the day she was attacked.

The day she fell into the coma.

The memories shattered.

Kunal’s breathing became uneven.

His arms tightened around her body as if he was afraid someone might take her away.

"You said…" his voice cracked, barely a whisper.

"You said you’d wait for me."

His forehead rested against hers.

"I came back."

Silence filled the room again.

The powerful businessman who ruled industries and terrified competitors now sat helpless on the floor—

holding the woman who had once been the center of his world.

And for the first time since the attack…

a tear slipped down Kunal Avasthi’s face.

He took out his gun stating at it blankly as he remembered her words -

"Kunal, what's wrong with you? How many times did I told you not to bring this gun in front of me?."

To which he replied -

"Jaan, this gun is meant for our safety baccha."

He smiled weakly remembering her sweet voice and whispered -

"Baccha wake up, I won't bring this gun home again"

" i will leave my work Baccha, wake up.....WAKE UP! RIDHIMA! AAAAAHHHH! NO NO YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME HERE!"

He shouted, screamed hugging her tightly as tears rolled down his cheeks.

He sniffed as he raised his gun and put in on his forehead and whispered hugging her closely to his chest where his heart used to beat for her and whispered hoarsely -

"What should this madman do without his madness?"

"I will find you again, jaan and this time not even death could bring us apart"

The sound of gun shot echoed the room as his lifeless body laid there beside her, hugging her even after death.