Page 7 of Mrs. Rathore

And now… I had to live with it.

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The doctor appeared with a nervous smile and a clipboard clutched in his trembling hands.

“Sir… the girl wants to see you.” His voice was soft, careful, like he was afraid it might ignite another explosion between father and son.

“We’re coming,” my father replied curtly. He glanced at me and nodded toward the room. A silent command.

Fuck. I didn’t want to face her.

I followed him reluctantly, my stomach churning. The guilt sat like a stone in my gut, heavy and unmoving. We stepped into theroom, and the harsh white lights made everything feel too real, too sharp. The moment we crossed the threshold, I winced.

There she was.

Lying in that hospital bed like a broken doll, her face devoid of life, her eyes fixed on the ceiling. I took a few slow steps closer. Her jaw tightened, her hands gripping the hospital sheets so fiercely her knuckles whitened. It wasn’t just pain but it was rage. If those fingers were on my neck instead of the sheets, I was sure she would strangle me on the spot.

Her father and brother had left an hour ago. They had broken down after seeing her state, her little brother couldn’t even look at her legs before he burst into sobs. My father insisted we stay, even as my phone buzzed again and again. Ira had called, her voice upbeat, oblivious. “Haldi’s starting in an hour, baby! Where are you?” I couldn’t even answer.

I was still tangled in this nightmare, caught in a web I spun myself the moment I got behind the wheel last night. If only I hadn’t drunk. If only I had left earlier. If only…

But fate doesn’t care for regrets. Fate threw me like a wrecking ball into Avni Parmar’s life and now all I could do was watch her world crumble.

Our eyes met.

And I froze.

There was nothing soft in her gaze. No fragility. No mercy. Just grief, burning fury, and something worse, disgust.

Shit. I shattered her dreams like glass under my tires.

“How are you feeling?” I asked, my voice stiff, clipped. It came out colder than I intended. My father shot me a warning glare and subtly squeezed my arm.

Then, like a switch had flipped, his expression softened entirely as he turned to her.

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” he asked gently, lowering himself onto the chair beside her bed. The softness in his voice was jarring. It was the same voice he used with my sister when she was in pain, the voice of a protector.

I knew that side of him well. My father had always held a deep reverence for women. He inspired hundreds to join the army, believing women were as powerful—if not more so than men. To him, they weren’t weaker. They were warriors.

Avni didn’t answer right away. Her lips trembled as she swallowed hard, her eyes glistening.

Then came the venom.

“Shit,” she spat, her voice brittle and broken. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. “I’m feeling like absolute shit, Mr. Rathore. Look at what your son has done to me.”

She turned her glare to me, and I had to steel myself not to flinch.

“He destroyed everything I worked for. My entire career. My body. My soul. I’ve always hated entitled rich sons but now,I fucking loathe them. His presence…” She jabbed a trembling finger at me.“...makes me feel sick.”

I dropped my gaze, jaw clenched tight, fingers digging into my palms until I felt skin give way. Her eyes didn’t just hate me but they made me hate myself more.

“You think people like you can ruin lives and fix it with a cheque?” she continued, voice cracking. “What do you know about living with nothing? About dancing for ten damn years, perfecting every spin, every step, hoping someday it would matter?”

My father reached for her hand, his eyes misty now. But I couldn’t take it anymore.

“The doctor said your knees will heal in a few months,” I said firmly, not meaning for it to sound as harsh as it did.

She snapped her head toward me, nostrils flaring. “A few months?” she whispered in disbelief. “I’m a dancer. I don’t just walk with those knees but I fly. You didn’t just break my legs. You clipped my wings.” Her voice rose like a scream tearing through her throat. “Get your damn son out of here!”

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