Chapter 24: The Silence That Broke Her
The first few days after Vansh left for his treatment, Niyati tried hard to remain calm. She told herself that distance was temporary, that hospitals were busy places, and that healing required patience. At first, his voice over the phone still carried traces of the man she knew — gentle, reassuring, familiar. But slowly, almost imperceptibly, something began to change.
His laughter faded. Conversations grew shorter. The warmth in his voice was replaced by pauses, strained breaths, and silences he tried to hide. Sometimes, he didn’t pick up her calls at all. Messages that once received instant replies now remained unread for hours… sometimes days. Each unanswered ring felt heavier than the last.
She tried to reason with her fear. He must be tired, she thought. The treatment is intense. He needs rest. She blamed the foreign hospital, the time difference, the unfamiliar routines — anything except the possibility she was most afraid to accept.
But worry has a way of seeping through even the strongest denial.
Every missed call felt like a tiny crack forming inside her chest. Nights became unbearable. She lay awake replaying their final moments together — his smile at the airport, the way he held her hand just a little longer, the way his eyes lingered on her face as if memorizing it. Every word he had spoken before leaving echoed endlessly in her mind, now carrying meanings she hadn’t understood then.
Finally, after a day weighed down by relentless anxiety, Vansh called.
The moment she heard his voice, relief flooded her like rain after a drought. For a while, everything felt normal again. They spoke softly, laughed lightly, avoided difficult questions. She reassured herself that he was fighting, that he was alive, that love was still connecting them across continents. When the call ended, she smiled — convincing herself that everything would be okay.
But it wasn’t.
Slowly, the calls became fewer. Then rarer. Days bled into weeks. Weeks slipped quietly into months. Niyati sent countless messages — words filled with love, concern, hope, and longing. Messages that said I miss you, Are you okay?, Please call me once. But none were read. None were answered.
The silence grew heavier with every passing day.
Nights turned restless. Sleep abandoned her. Meals remained untouched. Even the bustling city outside her window felt distant and unreal, like a world she no longer belonged to. Vansh’s absence had hollowed her life, turning it into an echoing emptiness where every heartbeat reminded her of what she was missing — and what she might be losing.
Eight months passed.
Eight long months of waiting, hoping, breaking, and rebuilding herself every single day.
One evening, unable to bear the anxiety any longer, Niyati found herself standing before Vansh’s wardrobe. It was a place she had never dared to open before — as if touching his belongings might confirm a truth she wasn’t ready to face. Her hands hesitated, then finally moved.
Behind neatly stacked files and carefully folded clothes, she noticed something unusual — a small envelope tucked away quietly. Her breath caught. It was addressed to her, written in Vansh’s unmistakable handwriting.
Her hands trembled as she opened it.
Each word on the page sliced through her heart like a blade.
“My dearest Niyati,
If you are reading this, it means I cannot come back right now. I have been diagnosed with an illness that has taken me to the edge — cancer. The treatment is harsh, and the days are long and painful. I fight every moment, but the truth is… my chances are uncertain. I may not return, my love.
I cannot bear the thought of you seeing me suffer, of you carrying the pain with me. I need you to stay strong, to live your life, to smile even if I am gone. Please… if I do not come back, do not search for me. Do not let your heart break in my place.
I love you more than anything, Niyati. You have been my strength, my joy, my everything. Please promise me — live for yourself, even if I am not there to witness it. Always remember me, but do not let my absence steal your happiness.
Yours forever,
Vansh”
Tears streamed down her face, hot, uncontrollable, unstoppable. Her legs gave way beneath her, and she collapsed onto the floor as the letter slipped from her trembling hands. Her chest felt tight, as if the air had been stolen from her lungs.
She couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t accept it.
Vansh — her strength, her heart, her everything — had been fighting alone. And now, through these words, he was asking her to let go… while confessing that he might never return.
For the first time in years, Niyati felt completely lost.
Broken by fate and overwhelmed by grief, she found herself unable to cry properly, unable to scream, unable even to understand the depth of what she had just read. All she could do was clutch the letter to her chest and whisper through trembling lips,
“No… I can’t accept this… I won’t…”
The room remained silent except for her quiet, shattered sobs.
In that unbearable stillness, Niyati realized something devastatingly clear — her greatest battle was no longer about surviving life’s challenges.
It was about surviving the heartbreak of losing the one person who had made her feel truly alive.
