Falling Destiny

Episode 23 : "The Truth In Her Silence"

(Disha’s POV)

The room swayed.

Or maybe it was just me.

I couldn’t tell anymore.

My fingers fumbled along the counter, trying to steady myself, but the nausea was back again, worse this time. I hadn’t eaten much all day—couldn’t, really. Nothing stayed down for more than a few minutes. And my head throbbed like it held all the secrets I’d been hiding for weeks.

I poured a glass of water, trying to suppress the rising bile, when everything blurred.

The last thing I remember is the sound of glass shattering on the floor.

Then nothing.

Just a void.

Until I woke up to the sound of Neha's voice—shaking, terrified, repeating my name like a prayer she was too scared to finish.

“Disha? DISHA!”

She was kneeling beside me, her hands cupping my face. I could see the panic in her eyes, feel it vibrating through her touch.

“I’m okay,” I whispered, though even I didn’t believe it.

She helped me sit up slowly, brushing my damp hair off my forehead. I could feel her trembling as she held me, and for a moment, I wanted to tell her everything. About the threats. About the faceless shadow who’d whispered into my life and stolen my choices. About how every step I took closer to Sanchit brought danger closer to her and Sanchit.

But I stayed quiet.

Because if saying nothing kept her and him safe, then silence was the price I’d keep paying.

Even if it tore me apart inside.

---

(Neha’s POV)

I was still shaking as I sat at the edge of the bed, watching her sleep.

She’d fainted—just like that.

No warning. No explanation.

One moment she was standing by the sink, and the next, she was on the floor, unconscious.

I’d never felt fear like that before.

Not when I was attacked. Not even during the darkest days after Sanchit disappeared.

But this—watching Disha pale, fragile, lifeless—it broke something in me.

I called the doctor immediately. He came quickly, quietly, checked her vitals, took samples, and asked me to wait outside while he did a few tests.

I paced the hallway like a madwoman.

And when he stepped out, the expression on his face told me he hadn’t come with ordinary news.

“She’s about 12 weeks pregnant,” he said gently.

Pregnant?

I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t move.

Twelve weeks... that’s three months.

She doesn’t know.

Or maybe she does, and just doesn’t want to tell me. Maybe she’s scared.

But if she really doesn’t know...

How can I tell her?

And what about Sanchit?

It’s been six weeks.

Six weeks since he vanished from our lives like smoke in the wind. No calls. No texts. Not even a rumor about where he could be. Disha has tried everything—more than she tells me, I know—but nothing.

And now this?

A baby.

A baby she probably doesn’t even know is growing inside her.

And no father around to hold her hand.

My eyes filled with tears as I looked back toward the room, where she slept under layers of secrets and silence.

I don’t know what to do.

I don’t know how to tell her.

But I do know one thing—

She won’t face it alone.

______

(Disha’s POV)

The next morning came too early.

The soft knock on the bedroom door was gentle but persistent. I blinked against the light, my body still aching from yesterday’s collapse. Before I could sit up, the door creaked open and Neha stepped in, her face shadowed by something deeper than concern.

She sat beside me, fidgeting with the ends of her dupatta. “Disha… I need to tell you something.”

Her voice was unusually serious—low, careful, like she was choosing each word with a surgeon’s precision.

My heart started racing. “Is everything okay?” I asked, sitting upright despite the dizziness.

She reached for my hand and squeezed it tightly. “The doctor… she came yesterday after you fainted.”

I nodded slowly, uncertain.

Neha’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she whispered, “You’re pregnant, Disha. About three months along.”

The world stopped.

For a moment, there was only silence—the kind that echoes louder than any scream. My breath caught in my throat. My vision blurred, and every sound faded away into a hum of disbelief.

“What…?” I croaked. “That can’t be…”

Neha leaned in, her grip tightening. “I know you didn’t know. But… Disha, you need to hear this.”

And that’s when I broke.

Tears spilled from my eyes like a flood, and a choked sob escaped my lips. I couldn’t hide it anymore. The truth that had eaten away at me for weeks—like a silent fire—finally burst free.

“They said they’d kill you,” I whispered.

Neha looked stunned.

“I didn’t say no to Sanchit because I didn’t love him,” I said through the sobs. “I said no because someone was watching me… threatening me. They said if I got close to him, if I said yes… they’d kill you and him both. I couldn’t lose you, Neha. I couldn’t.”

Neha pulled me into a tight hug, her own tears falling silently against my shoulder.

Flashback – That Night

Here is the detailed flashback from Disha's POV, showing the emotional and intimate memory of that night with Sanchit:

---

(Flashback)

It was supposed to be just a simple evening—a short drive to get away from the chaos. But that day, the skies had other plans.

The rain had started without warning. Heavy, cold, and relentless.

Sanchit and I had been driving on the outskirts of the city, lost in conversation and laughter. I remember the soft music playing in the background, his hand resting casually on the steering wheel, and how peaceful everything had felt for once.

But soon, the roads were flooding, visibility dropped, and the windshield wipers worked in vain.

“We need to stop somewhere,” he said, concerned, his brows furrowed as he slowed down the car.

“Yeah, it’s getting dangerous out here,” I agreed.

After a few more minutes of slow driving, we found a small boutique hotel—one of those quiet places nestled off the main highway, surrounded by trees and silence. The receptionist gave us a room with a single bed, and we didn’t question it. We were both drenched, our clothes clinging to our skin, and all we wanted was to get dry and warm.

Inside the room, I stood shivering near the small heater as Sanchit rummaged through his overnight bag.

He turned to me with a sheepish smile. “I have an extra t-shirt, but I guess you’ll have to manage with this towel.”

I laughed despite the situation, holding the towel close. “Great. We’ll add this to our list of crazy memories.”

He smiled back but didn’t say anything. His eyes lingered on me a little longer than usual—soft, searching, as if trying to memorize the moment.

I turned away, nervous under his gaze, and went into the bathroom to change out of my wet clothes. The towel was barely enough, but I wrapped it tightly, trying to dry my hair with another smaller one.

When I stepped back into the room, Sanchit had changed into his t-shirt and joggers. He had laid out the blanket on the bed, his hair messy and damp, cheeks flushed from the cold.

His eyes met mine—and there was something in them. Something that made my breath hitch.

Neither of us spoke.

The room was quiet except for the sound of rain against the windows. I walked toward him slowly, the dim lamp casting a golden glow between us. I don’t remember who moved first. Maybe we both did—pulled by something unspoken.

He reached out, gently brushing a strand of wet hair from my face.

“Disha…” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone.”

My heart pounded.

“I love you,” he said softly, sincerely, like it was the only truth in the world.

“I love you too,” I whispered back, almost breathless.

And then he kissed me.

It was slow at first, hesitant, but deepened quickly—full of everything we’d been holding back for months. My arms wrapped around his neck as he pulled me closer. The towel slipped slightly from my shoulders, but I didn’t care. His hands were warm against my chilled skin, and in that moment, I felt safe. I felt whole.

We fell onto the bed together, tangled in each other, breathless and flushed.

There were no words—only soft gasps, touches, and promises made through glances. We moved like we already belonged to each other, like we’d done this dance a thousand times in dreams.

He was careful, asking if I was okay at every step, and I nodded, tears forming in my eyes not from fear, but from the overwhelming surge of love.

It wasn’t just physical. It was emotional. Raw. Vulnerable.

That night, we didn’t sleep much. We lay side by side, fingers entwined, his arm wrapped protectively around me as the rain continued to fall.

“I wish this night never ends,” he murmured against my hair.

But it did.

Morning came too fast. And life, with all its chaos and fear, came rushing back.

I held that night close, tucked away in the safest part of my heart—until I realized days later that something had changed inside me.

---

Present

I looked at Neha now, my tears fresh but steadier.

“I didn’t want to hide it from you. But I didn’t know what to do. I just wanted you both safe.”

Neha wiped my cheeks with trembling hands. “And now? What do you want?”

I placed my hand over my stomach, my eyes softening. “This baby… is mine and Sanchit’s. I don’t know what’s going to happen next. But I won’t give up. I’ll protect this baby. I’ll raise it, even if it means doing it alone.”

Neha shook her head, fiercely. “You won’t be alone, Disha. And we’re going to find Sanchit. He has a right to know. His baby needs him.”

I nodded, slowly, strength replacing my earlier fear.

No more hiding. No more silence.

It was time to fight back—with truth, with love, and with everything we had left.