My heartless devil

✨✨The untold pain of Khushi ✨✨

Khushi had just finished her conversation with Mr. Singhania and was heading towards her apartment. Within fifteen minutes, she arrived at the place where she lived with Vani.

In Khushi’s Room

Khushi opened the door to her room, walking in without a glance towards Vani, who silently followed behind. Vani knew exactly what was going on in Khushi’s heart. Her silence, her rigidity—there was only one meaning behind it: she would never share her pain with anyone. Vani understood that the wound Khushi carried was buried deep, maybe never to be revealed, but she was the only one who could sense its weight.

"Are you okay, ma’am?" Vani asked softly, but Khushi didn’t answer. She opened the trolley bag she’d placed aside and pulled out her guitar. This guitar was always by her side—it was her voice, her world. Music was the only thing that connected her to herself, the only thing that gave her strength to fight the deep scars within.

Vani watched as Khushi lightly strummed the guitar strings, as though giving someone a chance to connect with her emotions. But Vani knew that Khushi’s heart was closed off completely.

"Do you ever think, Vani," Khushi spoke as she gently plucked the guitar strings, her voice carrying a bitter edge, "that we are with someone, and then suddenly, our whole world changes?"

There was something in her voice, a c***k she couldn't quite hide, though she tried.

Vani replied softly, "Do you really think it’s all over? That you've been left alone?"

Khushi kept the guitar close to her and took a deep breath, her eyes distant as if she were in another world. "Nothing has changed, Vani. Nothing will. I have no relationship with the Singhania family. For me, they are just a name, once part of my life."

Vani paused, her voice thoughtful. "What happened to you was wrong, ma’am. But don’t you understand that they are still your family, whether you accept them or not?"

A deep sadness crept into Khushi’s eyes. "Is family just about blood relations? Do relationships only matter because we’re someone's son or daughter?" There was a mix of anger and pain in her words, questions she had never been able to face and answers she could never find.

Vani remained silent, her eyes fixed on Khushi's face. She understood that Khushi wasn’t ready to accept the truth. Her heart was closed off, unwilling to accept anything that might heal her.

At that moment, Khushi’s phone rang. Without even glancing at it, she picked it up. It was Mr. Singhania.

"What is it?" Khushi’s voice was cold and firm.

"Khushi, why haven’t you come home?" Mr. Singhania asked, his tone sharp.

"Your home? Or your office?" Khushi replied quickly, her voice laced with disdain.

"You need to answer me," he said, his voice growing sterner. "You are responsible for my house. The way you're speaking right now is unacceptable."

"Do you really expect me to listen to you?" Khushi retorted, her sarcasm biting. "Even if I die, it wouldn't make a difference to you. I am just a presence in that house. Nothing more. So, I don’t owe you any explanation about anything that concerns me."

Mr. Singhania was taken aback, his anger flaring. There was a brief silence before he spoke again. "What do you think you’re doing, Khushi? Do you think you can do whatever you want? Everything you have—the talent, the strength—is the result of our effort."

"Effort?" Khushi’s voice was mocking. "Do you really believe I’ve ever lived a moment of my life thinking about you? What am I, and what have you made me? Everything I have is the result of my own hard work and struggle, not your charity."

"Your voice echoes in my ears, Khushi," Mr. Singhania retorted angrily. "But what do you know about the truth? You’re just pretending."

Khushi took a deep breath and hung up the phone. She picked up her guitar once again and began to play softly. Her voice carried the anger, the pain, that she could never let out, but in the music, every emotional storm found its release.

Vani stood by, watching. In Khushi's eyes, there was a silence that spoke volumes, a silence that told the story of deep, hidden wounds. She knew Khushi had never fully accepted her past. The Singhania family, to her, was not a family. It was a constant battle, one Khushi fought every moment of her life.

"When will you stop doing this, Khushi?" Vani asked quietly.

Khushi gently strummed the last chord on her guitar and replied, "Until I find peace within myself."

Vani knew that Khushi's path would be full of struggles, but she had decided—she would never let Khushi face them alone. Perhaps, one day, Khushi would have to face her truth, and then, she would be able to give her life a new direction.

For now, though, this was all. The next chapter would reveal even more.

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