C36 The Weight of Silence

The room stayed quiet for a long time after Aisha finished speaking.

The sunlight had shifted across the floor, creeping closer to the bed, but neither of them noticed.

Arjun hadn’t moved.

His elbows were still resting on his knees, hands loosely clasped together, eyes fixed somewhere on the floor.

But his mind was nowhere near that room.

Aisha watched him carefully.

For someone who usually looked so calm and controlled, his silence felt… heavy.

Like a storm building behind a locked door.

She tried to lighten the moment slightly.

“So,” she said softly, “that was the dramatic backstory.”

A faint smile appeared.

“Not very glamorous, right?”

He didn’t smile.

Instead he slowly lifted his gaze toward her.

His eyes looked darker now.

Sharper.

“What happened to him?”

The question came out quiet.

But the tension behind it was unmistakable.

Aisha blinked.

“You mean Atul?”

Arjun nodded once.

She shrugged.

“He graduated.”

“That’s it?”

His voice had hardened slightly.

“Yeah.”

She leaned her head back against the wall again.

“That’s kind of how these stories end most of the time.”

His jaw tightened.

“He just… continued his life?” Arjun asked.

“Pretty much.”

“And nobody did anything?”

“Nope.”

The calmness in her voice made it worse somehow.

Arjun ran a hand slowly across his face.

The controlled soldier expression was slipping now.

“He should’ve been arrested,” he muttered.

Aisha gave a small smile.

“You’re applying military justice to college politics.”

“That wasn’t politics,” he said sharply.

“That was a crime.”

She didn’t argue.

She simply watched him quietly.

“You fought him,” Arjun said after a moment.

She nodded.

“Hard.”

“And he still walks around free.”

“That’s life sometimes,” she replied softly.

His hands clenched again.

“Did he ever try again after that night?”

Aisha shook her head.

“No.”

That answer made him pause.

“Why?”

She thought for a moment.

“Probably because I fought back.”

“Or maybe he got bored.”

The idea made Arjun’s jaw tighten even more.

“You said you had panic attacks,” he said carefully.

“Yeah.”

“How bad were they?”

She exhaled slowly.

“They feel like you’re dying.”

His eyes lifted.

“Your chest tightens.”

“You can’t breathe properly.”

“Your brain starts screaming that something terrible is about to happen.”

She tapped her temple lightly.

“Even when nothing actually is.”

Arjun’s expression softened slightly.

“How often?”

“Back then?”

She gave a small shrug.

“Almost daily.”

He swallowed quietly.

“And the nightmares?”

She nodded slowly.

“Those stayed for a long time.”

His voice lowered.

“You never told your parents the full story?”

She laughed faintly.

“They would have blamed me.”

The answer came too quickly.

Too naturally.

That made something twist inside Arjun’s chest.

“So you just… carried it alone?”

“Mostly.”

“What about Golu?”

She smiled softly.

“He tried.”

“But I never told him everything either.”

“Why?”

She looked down at her hands.

“Because people start looking at you differently once they know.”

Arjun frowned.

“Like you’re fragile.”

“Or broken.”

Her voice softened.

“And I didn’t want to become someone people pity.”

For a moment neither of them spoke.

Then Arjun asked quietly,

“And the self harm?”

She didn’t answer immediately.

Instead she stared at the floor.

“It started small,” she said eventually.

“Just scratching my arms.”

His stomach tightened.

“Then it got worse.”

He forced himself to ask,

“How long?”

“About a year.”

His breathing slowed carefully.

“And the suicidal thoughts?”

She looked at him honestly.

“They were there.”

The bluntness of the answer hit him harder than anything else she had said.

“But you didn’t act on them.”

She shook her head gently.

“No.”

“Why?”

Her lips curved into a small, thoughtful smile.

“Because even when I hated my life…”

She looked up at him.

“…I still liked living.”

That answer surprised him.

“I liked sunsets.”

She gestured toward the window.

“And music.”

“And stupid late night food cravings.”

A soft laugh escaped her.

“So I stayed.”

The simplicity of that statement made something shift inside Arjun.

He studied her quietly.

The messy hair.

The sleepy eyes.

The girl who looked so lighthearted on the surface.

But who had survived storms most people never even saw.

After a moment he asked another question.

“Do you still see that psychiatrist?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

She shrugged.

“Different city.”

“And therapy?”

She shook her head again.

“Too expensive.”

Arjun leaned back slightly.

Thinking.

Processing everything she had just told him.

Aisha watched him carefully.

“You look like you’re planning something.”

He didn’t deny it.

“I might be.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“Relax, soldier,” she teased gently.

“I’ve survived this long.”

His gaze locked onto hers.

“That’s exactly why I’m concerned.”

The seriousness in his voice made her pause.

For a moment neither of them spoke.

Just looking at each other.

Then Aisha stretched her arms lazily and flopped backward onto the bed again.

“Well,” she sighed.

“That was my tragic life story.”

She peeked at him upside down from the pillow.

“Your turn now.”

Arjun blinked.

“My turn?”

She nodded.

“You’ve been listening to my trauma for an hour.”

Her eyes sparkled mischievously.

“Seems fair that I get some secrets too.”

He leaned back slowly in the chair.

A faint smile finally appearing.

“Trust me,” he said quietly.

“My stories aren’t as easy to tell.”

Aisha grinned.

“Good.”

She pulled the blanket over herself again.

“I like complicated stories.”