The hospital room smelt of antiseptic and suffocating medicines. Shambhavi felt like her eyes were glued shut. 

They felt heavy, as if something was weighing them down. When she finally managed to open them, she saw a harsh white light, shutting them back again quickly.

She tried to move, but her body felt like lead. A sharp pain bloomed behind her eyes, making her groan softly.

"Shambhavi?"

She heard a deep, concern filled voice. She turned her head slowly toward the sound.

A man was sitting in a chair pulled close to her bed. He looked like he hadn't slept in days. His hair was dishevelled, and there was a dark shadow of stubble on his jaw.

His eyes, dark and intense, were fixed on her with a look of such raw emotion that it made her heart ache before she even knew who he was.

"Mai...mai kahan hu?"

(I…where am I?)

Shambhavi whispered in a hoarse voice.

"Aap...aap kaun ho?"

(You…who are you?)

The man froze. He reached out, his fingers hovering just inches from her hand before he pulled back, as if afraid he might break her.

"Tum hospital mai ho."

(You are in the hospital.)

He said softly.

"Tumhara accident hua tha."

(You had an accident.)

"Mera naam... Shambhavi hai?"

(My name…is Shambhavi?)

She tried recalling something. Anything. There was nothing. No memories of a home, a family, or even her own face.

"Mujhe kuch yaad nahi aa raha. Kuch bhi nahi."

(I don’t remember anything. Nothing.)

The man leaned forward, his face full of grief.

"I know. Doctors ne kaha tha ki aisa ho skta hai. Par tum daro mat. Mai hu na."

(Doctors told me this could happen. But don’t worry. I am here.)

He took her hand then. His grip was firm, warm, and strangely possessive.

"Mera naam Rudrang hai."

(My name is Rudrang.)

He said, his eyes locking onto hers.

"And I am your husband."

Shambhavi looked at him, searching for a spark of recognition. Nothing came. But she saw the way his hand trembled slightly, and the way his eyes seemed to worship her face.

"Husband?"

She repeated, the word feeling foreign on her tongue.

"Haan."

(Yes.)

Rudrang replied, a small, sad smile playing on his lips.

"We got married two years ago. You might not remember what we lived, but hum saath mai nayi yaadein banayenge. We will always be together."

(…but we will create new memories together.)

His voice was soothing the panic that was starting to rise in her chest. If this man was her husband, she was safe. She had someone to tell her who she was. She felt a strange pull toward him, not quite love, but a desperate, vulnerable need to trust.

A doctor entered shortly after, performing a series of tests. The diagnosis was delivered. Retrograde amnesia.

As the doctor left, Shambhavi leaned back against the pillows, exhausted. Rudrang was telling her about their supposed home, describing the colour of the walls and the way she liked her tea, when the heavy door to the room swung open with a violent bang.

A young man rushed in. He looked frantic, his clothes rumpled and his eyes wide with terror.

"Shambhavi! Thank God tum thik ho!"

(Thank God you’re fine!)

He cried, rushing toward the other side of the bed. Shambhavi flinched, shrinking back into the sheets.

"Aap kaun hain? Please... dur rahiye."

(Who are you? Please…stay away.)

The man stopped in his tracks, looking like he had been slapped.

"Shambhavi, main hu... Anirudh. Tumhara fiance. Kya bol rahi ho tum?"

(Shambhavi, it’s me…Anirudh. Your fiancé. What are you saying?)

"Fiance?"

Shambhavi looked at Rudrang, her eyes wide with confusion and fear.

"Rudrang, yeh kya keh rahe hain?"

(Rudrang what is he saying?)

Rudrang's entire demeanour changed in an instant. The warmth vanished, replaced by a cold, sharp edge. He stood up, towering over the bed, shielding Shambhavi from the intruder.

"Bahar niklo."

(Get out.)

Rudrang said, his voice a low, dangerous growl.

"Ho kaun tum?"

(Who are you?)

Anirudh shouted, his voice cracking with desperation.

"Shambhavi, meri baat suno. Humari shaadi hone wali thi. Tum meri car lekar gayi thi, yaad karo!"

(Shambhavi, listen to me. We were about to get married. You took my car, remember!)

"Nahi! Mujhe kuch yaad nahi!"

(No! I don’t remember anything!)

Shambhavi cried, covering her ears. The aggression in Anirudh's voice terrified her. He seemed so loud. Anirudh reached across the bed, trying to grab her hand.

"Shambhavi, please! Meri taraf dekho. Main tumse pyaar karta hoon!"

(Look at me. I love you!)

"Chhodo mujhe!"

(Leave me!)

She shrieked, pulling her arm away. In her panic, she turned to the only person who had spoken to her with gentleness since she woke up.

She lunged toward Rudrang, grabbing his shirt and hiding her face against his chest. She could hear his heartbeat, steady, slow, and calm.

"Rudrang, please... usey jaane ko kahiye. Mujhe darr lag raha hai."

(Rudrang please…ask him to leave. I am scared.)

She sobbed into his chest. Rudrang wrapped his arms around her, his chin resting on top of her head.

He looked over her shoulder at Anirudh, and for a split second, the mask of the grieving husband slipped. A look of pure, malicious triumph flashed in his dark eyes.

"Suna tumne?"

(Did you hear?)

Rudrang said softly to Anirudh.

"Tum usey dara rahe ho. Chale jao yahan se, isse pehle ki main security ko bulaun."

(You are scaring her. Go away, before I call the security.)

Anirudh stood there, his hands shaking, hot tears of frustration and helplessness fell down his eyes. He looked at Shambhavi, who was trembling in the arms of a man he did not even know.

"Main jaa raha hu."

(I am leaving.)

Anirudh whispered, his voice thick with pain.

"Lekin Shambhavi, main wapas aaunga."

(But Shambhavi, I will come back.)

With one last, lingering look of longing, Anirudh turned and stumbled out of the room.

Shambhavi gradually stopped shaking, but she didn't pull away from Rudrang. He felt like an anchor to her.

"Aap mujhe chhod kar toh nahi jaoge na?"

(You won’t leave me, right?)

She asked in a small voice. Rudrang stroked her hair, his touch light but firm.

"Kabhi nahi, Shambhavi. Ab tum sirf meri ho. Hamesha ke liye."

(Never. You are only mine now. Forever.)

A few minutes later, Rudrang stepped out of the room, saying he needed to speak with the nurse about her discharge. He found Anirudh leaning against the wall in the corridor, his face buried in his hands.

Rudrang walked up to him, his footsteps silent on the floor. He leaned in close, his voice a mere whisper that carried the weight of a death sentence.

"Himmat kaise hui tumhari yahan aane ki?"

(How dare you come here?)

Anirudh looked up, his eyes burning with rage.

"Woh meri mangetar hai! Tumne usey kya patti padhayi hai? Aur ho kaun tum?"

(She is my fiancée! What did you say to her? And who even are you?)

Rudrang chuckled evilly. He grabbed Anirudh by the collar, slamming him against the wall with surprising strength.

"Ab woh sirf wahi jaanti hai jo main usey batata hu."

(She only knows what I tell her now.)

Rudrang hissed.

"She is a blank book. Aur ab uss kitaab ke har ek panne pr sirf wahi likha jaayega jo mai chahunga. Tujhe kya laga? Tu khush rahega aur main dekhta rahunga?"

(And only what I want will be written on the blank pages of her book. What did you think? You will stay happy and I will keep on watching?)

"Tum pagal ho?"

(Are you mad?)

Anirudh gasped, struggling against Rudrang's grip. Rudrang leaned closer, his eyes cold and devoid of any warmth.

"Yaad rakhna, Anirudh... main tumse tumhari har cheez chheen lunga. Tumhari naukri, tumhari izzat, aur ab... tumhari Shambhavi bhi. Usey bhool jao. Kyunki aaj ke baad, woh tumhare liye mar chuki hai."

(Remember, Anirudh…I will snatch everything from you. Your job, your respect, and now…your Shambhavi also. Forget her. Because after now, she is dead for you.)

He released Anirudh with a forceful shove. Rudrang straightened his shirt, his expression returning to one of calm, professional indifference.

"Ab dafa ho jaao yaha se."

(Now get lost.)

Rudrang said, turning his back towards Anirudh.

"Mere paas time nhi hai. Mujhe meri patni ka khayal rakhna hai."

(I don’t have time. I have to take care of my wife.)

As Rudrang walked back into the room, a shadow of a smile touched his lips. Inside, Shambhavi was waiting for him, her memory a blank slate, ready for him to paint whatever lies he desired.

He didn't just want her, he wanted to own the very essence of who she was.