INAYAT

"I'll read through the accounts once I get back from work. You can talk to my father until then. I'm sure he will have solutions to your worries." I pick up my bag to step out.

"But he always brushes this off." And so I stop. After I came back and told my father to keep Akeeb away from here and to never tell him that I'm back, he threw a huge fit but then agreed on the condition that I take over my duties as his successor.

Being a princess was always supposed to be a burden. Especially in a time when your status only brings you work and no perks of being royalty at all. But I took over. Not completely but in small chunks.

Now there are issues with money. Apparently my father just brushes past them, but I'm not an idiot. I will see what the problem is. I look back at the distressed accountant. He is one of our oldest employees.

"Fine. I'll see." I have a bit of time on my hands anyway. We settle down in the living room before he opens his laptop and shows me the account. It's mostly normal, nothing askew at the first glance but once every three months there is a huge sum of money that is taken out.

It's not a payout. There is no account that this money is being sent to. That means money is being withdrawn. "Is my father the only one with access to this account?" Our accountant nods.

"The first time I asked him about this, he was surprised and said he didn't take the money and then decided to look into it. I don't know if he found something or not but he waved the whole instance off.

Since then every time I bring this issue up, he tells me he will handle it but nothing changes. In fact the amounts that are being withdrawn just keep on increasing."

"When did this first happen?" I ask. "When you left. At first I thought it was you. But it kept happening even after you came back." I never had access to these accounts either. There are business accounts. I get up to go talk to my father when it hits me.

It's him. My father was not happy when I told him to not tell Akeeb anything. He still wanted him and I to marry but Ammi convinced him otherwise. While he forced me to take over my responsibilities, he also talked Akeeb into not coming back for Eid.

He apparently didn't visit since I disappeared. My father trusts him so much I'm sure he has access to this money and he is taking it away. At first the amounts were low so Abbu probably didn't say anything but now he has started to drain the money out of his bank account.

Is this somehow deeper than what I believed?

I always thought he was just a disgusting monster but he is greedy too? Or is this some plot to ruin this family? But why?

Why did he fucking do anything?!

I knock on my father's door and walk in to find him busy with some papers. "Yes Inayat?"

"Why were you so persistent about me marrying Akeeb?" He pauses for a second before looking at me strangely. "I'm in his father's debt. He- I just cannot repay him in any way. I believed if I took care of his son, and maybe made him a part of my family, I would be able to take some responsibility off my shoulders."

So all I am, is property who can be thrown around to pay off debts. I wonder how much I cost too. "What kind of debt?"

He sighs and takes off his glasses before rubbing his eyes. "When their accident happened, I was with them. Akeeb's father tried to save me and succeeded even but he and his wife didn't survive. That loss, that has weighed heavy on my chest for ages.

You two grew up together and I believed that you would spend your life together too." Funnily enough, ten year old me used to think the same. She would be heartbroken to know what happened.

"But then you disappeared and Akeeb was so distraught. It reminded me of when he was five and asked me where his parents were. I couldn't give him an answer then and I couldn't give him an answer when he asked where you went."

"Is that why he keeps taking money out of your account? I remember you telling me he has his own business." My father nods. "He does. But after you disappeared he went into this sadness and his business faced a lot of losses because he wasn't paying attention to it.

So he asked me for help and I didn't want to refuse him, so I told him he can take the money." I slap the laptop on his desk. "Well, he has taken over seventy crores out of your account. And if you don't stop him soon, you'll be on the street."

I turn around and leave.

I'm not stupid. I've heard the same story my father told me from Akeeb's mouth. Only his was a little different and honestly more believable. And now I see it.

He is trying to bankrupt my family.

That fucking cunt.

I leave the house to drive to my destination. I haven't been a therapist in the last seven months. But I decided to see one.

I decided to talk. I decided to fix myself. I still haven't touched anyone but that thought doesn't scare me as much. I used to be terrified of touching anything with a pulse but I petted a dog a month ago.

That was the easy part though. I wasn't terrified of dogs. I just want to see my husband again and hopefully hold his hand. He is still not awake. His mother and I often talk on the phone and he has been in a coma for the last eleven months.

I almost boarded a flight to go see him once but I couldn't. I can't see him like that. It reminds me that I'm the reason he has lost so much time. I step out of my car and walk into the therapist's office.

She is a kind woman in her early forties. She welcomes me with a smile and discusses the weather and my day with me before we step into the real problems. "Has your family contacted that guy?" I nod.

"They talk often because he is like a son to them but they don't mention me." She nods. "Do you truly want to stay hidden? If he is like son to them, do you not think he would want to visit some time?"

"I'm sure he would. But I truly don't want to see him. It's probably because I cannot give him back the same pain he caused me. I know we talked about moving on and letting go and I truly want to do it but there is this part of me, a big part of me that wants revenge.

That little girl who believed the world of this person, she wants revenge. I never knew how horrible a person can be until he put his hands on me. It killed something in me. Something that was never revived."

My therapist sighs before nodding. "Some times, revenge is what feeds our broken selves. That is what fixes us." I say. "It's not always the right answer but it isn't always wrong. I want him to suffer. I want him to feel pain, to feel agony.

I want him to scream in his pillow the same way I used to. I want his bones to ache from the weight of carrying his troubles. I don't think he is capable of guilt, so I want him to feel the pain. I want him to rot."

My therapist forwards a glass of water to me but I refuse. "You know I loved wearing white as a kid. I had so many white dresses and shirts that you could barely see any other colour in my wardrobe.

He loved it. He said he likes me in white because it shows him how innocent I am. He said he liked the sight of blood on my white dress.

I want justice for the little girl who is scared of wearing white because she thinks the monster would come back. I didn't even wear white on my wedding day while marrying a Christian man because I am terrified of that colour.

He hated red because it signified power so now that is all I wear." I point towards my dark red kurta and pants, telling her why I favour the colour.

She listens without judgement. She doesn't belittle my beliefs, my aversion to white or my need for revenge. I still can't understand why I ever believed that I cannot share.

I was a therapist myself. I-

A new wave of agony washes me off the shore. While I did send out apologies and received positive messages, I know I abandoned my patients too. They understand my problems but I still feel horrible.

Even as I step out of my therapist's office and drive to a restaurant, I don't particularly feel happy about meeting my best friend, or the only friend I have.

Ananya smiles and waves at me from her seat as I enter. She visits Hyderabad often as she is working on an ancient site here. This time, she even brought her twin sons.

I smile as I sit opposite her, and her son, Vihaan gives me a huge smile. "Hi." He say with a full blown smile.

"Hey!" I smile back. Ridhaan is beside him and he has always been a bit shy. I met Ananya's whole family. I've met all four of her children more times than I can count but I've only met her husband twice.

He is a busy man. He is also tall and a bit grumpy sometimes but he is kind. "So?" Ananya asks. "How is the birthday girl?"

"I'm okay. Older I guess. But okay." She rolls her eyes. "Come on! You're the only friend I have Inayat, be excited about your birthday so I can be excited about birthdays that don't contain Spider-Man or Barbie."

I laugh. "I'm sure Faisal likes something other than Barbie and Spider-Man." She gives me a mischievous smile. "What he likes is what brought us to Spider-Man and Barbie." Oh god.

The kids seem busy drawing on the napkins so their mother has turned rowdy. "You're shameless." I tell her. She smiles. "That's what you need right now."

We order our food and talk about trivial things until she asks about Harold. "Did you talk to him?" She doesn't know he is in a coma. She doesn't know why I came back or who my husband is.

She believes I came back because the two of us separated but that I'm still in love with him. I am. I still love him. Still miss him but knowing he is still unconscious because I'm a traumatised individual has left a bigger scar than anything else.

I shake my head. She sighs. "You know Inayat, Faisal and I fight all the time. We used to hate each other at one point but the fight never lasts. We know hurting each other is no different than stabbing at our own hearts.

You love him. I can see it. Then stop hurting yourself and him. Just call him. It's been months. Your relationship isn't broken beyond repair. You two just need to talk-"

"It's not that simple." I say. "It is." She responds but all I give her is a shake of my head. "I wasn't honest with you earlier. I'm sorry but I didn't know how to tell you that."

"What happened?" She asks, food all forgotten and her sons are full and getting sleepy.

"Him and I did have a fight. On top of the stairs." I look her for a reaction but she only nudges me, to talk more, with her eyes.

"He fell." Her jaw drops. "And I didn't reach out to catch him because I'm terrified of touching anyone. He fell and there were so many complications. He has been in a coma since.

I can't face him Ananya. He is still unconscious but even when he wakes up I don't know if he would want to see me. If he even thinks of me.”

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HAROLD

“Joëlle.”

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