The day I walked away
1042 Words
Chapter 6 — The Day Aarohi Walked Away
Aarohi Sharma’s head was still spinning.
The fever hadn’t gone down since the previous day. If anything, it had worsened.
Her body felt unbearably heavy, each step requiring more strength than she had left. Her vision blurred at the edges, the world around her slightly unstable.
She shouldn’t have gone.
She knew that.
But when Armaan said it was a family dinner—
She didn’t have the strength to refuse.
Or maybe…
She never had the right to.
---
The car ride felt longer than usual.
Aarohi sat quietly, her fingers gripping the edge of her dress as she tried to steady herself.
The world outside the window moved too fast.
Or maybe she was just too slow.
---
“Sit properly.”
Armaan Malhotra’s voice cut through the silence.
---
She straightened immediately, ignoring the wave of dizziness that followed.
“…Sorry.”
---
He didn’t respond.
Of course he didn’t.
---
By the time they arrived, the house was already filled with voices.
Laughter echoed through the halls.
Warmth surrounded the space.
---
But none of it reached her.
---
The moment Aarohi stepped inside—
She felt it.
---
Their eyes.
---
Judging.
Measuring.
Rejecting.
---
“There you are.”
---
Armaan’s mother approached, her gaze sharp, calculating.
---
Her eyes landed on Aarohi, scanning her slowly from head to toe.
“This is what you decided to wear?”
---
Aarohi swallowed, her throat dry.
“I thought it was appropriate—”
---
“You thought wrong.”
---
A few quiet laughs followed.
Soft.
But loud enough to sting.
---
A dull ache pulsed through Aarohi’s head.
She lowered her gaze, forcing herself to remain steady.
---
Don’t react.
Just stay quiet.
---
They moved to the dining table.
Aarohi sat beside Armaan, her posture stiff, her trembling hands hidden in her lap.
---
The food was served.
Plates filled.
Voices continued.
---
“And you?” his mother asked suddenly, her attention shifting back to Aarohi. “What exactly do you do all day?”
---
Aarohi’s thoughts felt slow.
Heavy.
“…I take care of the house.”
---
“That’s all?” she said, almost amused.
---
“I suppose that’s expected,” someone added casually. “Considering where she comes from.”
---
A faint ringing filled Aarohi’s ears.
She blinked slowly, trying to stay focused.
---
“She doesn’t even fit in this family,” his mother continued. “I still don’t understand why this marriage was necessary.”
---
The words echoed.
Louder than they should have.
---
And without realizing it—
Aarohi waited.
---
Waited for him.
---
For Armaan to say something.
Anything.
A single word.
A simple correction.
---
But he didn’t.
---
He picked up his glass calmly.
Took a sip.
---
Completely unaffected.
---
And something inside her—
Broke.
---
Her hand slipped slightly against the table.
The room felt too warm.
Too tight.
---
She couldn’t breathe properly.
---
“I’ll… excuse myself.”
Her voice came out barely steady.
---
No one stopped her.
---
Aarohi stood carefully, but the moment she did, the room tilted violently.
For a second—
She thought she might fall.
---
Her hand shot out, gripping the chair tightly until the dizziness passed.
---
No one noticed.
---
Of course.
---
She walked out slowly, each step heavier than the last.
The hallway stretched endlessly before her.
---
But she didn’t stop.
---
Not until she reached the balcony.
---
Cold night air hit her face, making her shiver.
But it helped.
Just a little.
---
Aarohi held onto the railing, her fingers tightening as she tried to steady her uneven breathing.
Her chest felt heavy.
Too heavy.
---
This isn’t my place.
---
The thought came clearly this time.
No hesitation.
No doubt.
---
It never was.
---
Tears blurred her vision, but she didn’t wipe them away.
She didn’t have the energy.
---
Footsteps approached behind her.
Slow.
Familiar.
---
“You’re overreacting.”
---
Armaan’s voice.
Cold.
Detached.
---
A weak laugh escaped her lips.
“…Am I?”
---
“They were just talking,” he said. “You don’t need to take everything seriously.”
---
Aarohi turned slowly to face him.
Even that small movement made her head spin.
---
“I was sick yesterday,” she said quietly.
---
No reaction.
---
“I asked you for help.”
---
Still nothing.
---
“I could barely stand… and you told me to call the driver.”
---
Her voice didn’t shake.
Not anymore.
---
“And today…” she exhaled slowly, tightening her grip on the railing.
“You brought me here… knowing I wasn’t well.”
---
Armaan frowned slightly, as if this conversation itself was an inconvenience.
---
“You’re making this bigger than it is.”
---
And just like that—
Something inside her went completely still.
---
“I see.”
---
For the first time—
Aarohi didn’t feel hurt.
Didn’t feel angry.
---
Didn’t feel anything at all.
---
“I think I understand now,” she said softly.
---
“There’s nothing to understand,” he replied.
---
“No,” she shook her head slightly. “There is.”
---
She stepped back.
Unsteady.
But certain.
---
“I was never meant to stay here.”
---
Silence followed.
---
But it didn’t matter anymore.
---
Because the decision had already been made.
---
That night—
While the house slept—
Aarohi packed her things.
Slowly.
Quietly.
---
Each movement careful, even though her body felt like it might give out at any moment.
---
She paused once, pressing her hand against her forehead as the dizziness returned.
---
But she didn’t stop.
---
Not this time.
---
When she reached the door—
She hesitated.
Just for a second.
---
Not because she wanted to stay.
---
But because she wanted to remember.
---
“I tried,” she whispered.
---
And then—
She opened the door.
---
And walked away.
---
Weak.
Unsteady.
Alone.
---
But for the first time—
Aarohi Sharma was free.
- Writer
